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luvdsc · 4 years ago

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august.

Bad habits are hard to break, and you’ve made a terrible one of loving him.

pairing :: liu yangyang x reader genre :: fluff, angst ⋮ best friend + college au word count :: 10,500 words warnings :: none. playlist :: time lapse (taeyeon) ⋆ 2 kids (taemin) ⋆ daydreams (exes) ⋆ sharing you (lany) ⋆ august (taylor swift) ⋆ too close to love (will hyde) ⋆ sad stripped (lany) ⋆ strangers (taemin) ⋆ the 1 (taylor swift) author’s note :: can you believe that i literally wrote this entire 10k fic in one day aka today ??? whew this gave me the same rush that i got when i wrote my research paper in the class it was due for the day of, printed it out during break, and handed it in at the end of class :’) ↳ part of the almost collaboration series.

Liu Yangyang is jumping fences to escape late night parties, shared laughter over childhood favorite cartoons on February mornings, midnight dancing in the refrigerator light, and November kisses stolen in between the shelves of the nearby 7-Eleven. He is obscure doodles in the margins of your physics notes, good intentions laced in December’s mistakes, strawberry lemonade and broken truths wrapped in summer bliss, and September endings with honest lies.

He is your August, he is your everything, but he isn’t yours.

AUGUST 2018.

August has barely begun to fade away.

You’re eighteen years old, and you’re drunk off of your first taste of freedom, one toe already dipping into the shiny pleasures of adulthood. Your new roommate, Karina, has excitedly told you about the famous beach night themed frat party that kick starts every school year at your university. Everybody who’s anybody would be there, and your heart already races at the thought of going to your very first college party.

“Coral or blue?” Karina holds up a solid colored neon blue bikini and a striped, bright pink one for you to choose between.

“Blue.” You nod towards the first option, and she discards the other one back into the open drawer. You pull out a marigold yellow one and a black one lined with white strings, wordlessly gesturing towards them, and she immediately points to the latter.

“That one is gonna look so cute on you. Well, both would, but I love that one.”

You grin at her, silently thanking whoever decided to pair the two of you together for the random dorming. “Perfect, thanks. Do you know any of the guys hosting the party?”

“Yeah, Dejun? He’s really sweet and a year above us. I met him in the music elective I’m taking.” She turns to take off her shirt and tosses it to the side, pulling on her bikini and wriggling into a pair of ripped jean shorts. “You?”

“Kind of? Jaemin is in my project group in Intro to Engineering. He’s rushing for that frat.” You quickly change out of your outfit and into your chosen swim top and daisy dukes. You make sure to grab a pair of black flip flops from your closet. The bundle of nerves in your stomach grows as you step out of your dorm with your new friend, a bit anxious but also excited to attend your very first party.

Thank goodness for summer weather. It’s still a nice, warm 75 degrees Fahrenheit according to your weather app when you and Karina finally make your way to the frat house. The sun barely begins to set, but the party slash dayger had started earlier and is in full swing. There’s a DJ set up out front, blasting some sort of EDM music, and the lawn is absolutely covered in foam. You see the source of it shakily set up on the roof of the patio along with a couple of boys sitting up there, Hawaiian shirts barely covering their figures. You catch the eye of Jaemin, who happily waves at you from his vantage point, and you wave back at him.

“Oh my god, I love college,” Karina says, grabbing your arm excitedly as the two of you step into the foam. You reach down to pick up some of it before flicking it towards your roommate, who squeals before scooping some up and throwing it in your direction as well.

“Ready for our first shitty college drink?” You pull her through the mass of other students and towards the horribly decorated tiki bar stationed in the corner of the patio.

“Hell yeah, let’s do it.”

The two of you stumble over, still throwing handfuls of foam at each other amidst giggles before making a full stop in front of the bar. The older boy behind the makeshift counter lazily grins at you both, a shell necklace hanging loosely around his neck, and his unbuttoned orange Hawaiian shirt gives you a nice flash of his toned abs.

“Hey, I’m Johnny. What can I get for you two?”

“Two vodka shots, please.”

“Alright, ID?”

You freeze, and Karina’s grip on your arm tightens, and then Johnny laughs, eyes crinkling in the corners. “Relax, I’m just messing with you, freshie. Two vodka shots coming right up.”

He pulls out two small plastic cups and pours out the drinks for you. “How many do you want?”

“This is good for now, thanks.” You and Karina pick up the drinks, smiling a little nervously at him. He flashes another amused smile at you. “Alright, come back anytime if you want another.”

You move away from the patio, and Karina follows close behind. The two of you throw back the drinks and dispose of the empty cups quickly. The burning sensation in your throat disappears after a few seconds, and you turn to your roommate. “Should we find our friends?”

“I think I see Dejun back there! Let’s go say hi, I can introduce you to him.” Karina drags you through the rising foam, the bubbles clinging to your skin, and when you go past the DJ stand, you feel the pounding bass reverberating in your chest harder than ever. You trek past the gate and into the backyard where the foam has risen to your waist, thanks to the enclosed fences. She taps on the shoulder of a boy with the prettiest almond eyes you have ever seen, and you shyly smile at him when he greets you.

“Hey, I’m Dejun.”

Oh my god, even his voice sounds pretty. Older college boys are definitely better and hotter than high school boys. Heck, they’re better than freshman boys. Nobody wants to date a freshman dude, not even the freshman girls.

“Hi, I’m Y/N.” You extend your hand, but then realize how stupid that must be. You hastily start to retract your hand, but he laughs and warmly grasps your hand. Smiling at you, he shakes it firmly, squeezing your hand gently before letting go.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.”

The butterflies in your stomach grow in volume as the conversation goes on, and you’re positively enamored by the end of the night. Karina had given you a look earlier before walking off with Dejun’s friend and joining the dancing crowd. With the addition of his phone number in your pocket and a promise to show you a new song he’s working on with his guitar next Friday, you’re walking on cloud nine.

“Do you want something to drink? I need a refill, and I can go grab you one,” he asks, and you’re about to offer to go with him, but then you remember the teasing upperclassman and simply agree, asking for another shot of vodka.

After he disappears, you look around, eyeing the crowd and wondering if you can spot your roommate anywhere. You bump into someone lightly and turn around to apologize. Your eyes meet a pair of curiously bright ones.

“Sorry about that, I’m looking for my roomie.”

The boy gives you a Cheshire Cat grin. He’s wearing one of those dumb Hawaiian shirts, too, and it’s unbuttoned, but he has a white T-shirt layered underneath it. “No biggie, it’s a massive party and it’s crowded. Who are you looking for?”

“Ah, I don’t know if you know her, but Karina? She went off with this dude, Kunhang, I think?”

His eyes light up at that name. “Oh, I know him! I saw him earlier by the keg stands inside. Your friend might be there, too. I can—”

“THE COPS ARE COMING!” A loud voice bellows, and you freeze up. Suddenly, the music is shut off as everyone starts running away. You start to panic, the terror rising in your chest, and the boy in front of you grabs your hand and pulls you with him. “What are you doing?! Don’t just stand there! We gotta go!”

“Wait, but Kar—” You start to object, but cut yourself off when you bump into his back as he abruptly stops. He scans the backyard, quickly assessing the situation before turning to you.

“There’s way too many people trapped in here, we’re not gonna make it to the gate. We need to climb over the fence. I’ll hoist you up, and you can help me up from there.”

“I don’t even know you,” you protest, and he throws you a look.

“Hi, I’m Yangyang, nice to meet you, I don’t want to get my ass hauled out by the police and continue the icebreakers in jail, so let’s move now. We good?”

“Yeah, okay, we’re good,” you say faintly, mind still whirling around as you try to grasp the situation. “I’m Y/N.”

“Great, now up you go.”

He immediately picks you up without any warning, and you almost fall backwards, arms flailing before you grasp the top of the fence and pull yourself up. Balancing precariously on top of it, you grab his arm, tugging him up until he’s sitting right next to you, too. The both of you swing your legs over the fence and jump down to the other side. You let out a sigh of relief, squatting down as you clutch your heart.

“Oh my god, we made it. I didn’t get arrested at my first party.”

“What an amazing accomplishment.” Yangyang brushes off the back of his shorts. “We aren’t going to jail. Freshman year is gonna be a breeze if your bar is set this low.”

“Hey!” You frown at him, standing up and crossing your arms over your chest. “How do you know I’m a freshman?”

“It’s written all over your face.” You give him a look, and he relents. “Only a freshman would be this scared of getting caught.”

“So are you an upperclassman?”

“Nah, this is my first party, too. I’m rushing for Nu Chi. Hold on, wait here.” He sneaks around the edge of the fence, peering around for a few seconds before jogging back towards you. “Okay, the police are over there. I’m gonna have to wait a while before going back in.”

“You have to go back?”

“Part of tonight’s rush process,” he sighs before turning to you. “Do you live on campus?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna walk back now,” you answer, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “It’s late, and I’m not in a partying mood anymore.”

“I can walk you back,” he offers, and you shoot him a grateful smile.

“That’d be great, thanks.”

The two of you start the trek back, an awkward lull in the conversation making itself known. You wrap your arms around yourself, shivering slightly when a soft breeze picks up. There’s a light rustling noise, and you pay no mind to it until a soft cloth is draped over your shoulders. Eyes widening, you notice the colorful, palm tree-printed button down shirt wrapped around you and the boy next to you, looking straight ahead with his hands shoved into his pockets. Smiling to yourself, you slip on the shirt, loosely buttoning the front of it.

“So, Yangyang,” you casually begin, testing his name on your tongue for the first time. You decide you like it. It’s cute. He turns to you, raising an eyebrow, and you continue, “Since our lives are no longer in jeopardy, we can continue the icebreakers, right?”

His lips curve into a smile. “Alright, shoot. What’s your first question?”

“Captain America or Iron Man?”

“Oh, Iron Man, hands down. He’s so…”

You meet him in August.

FEBRUARY 2019.

“Hey, where’s your cereal? The Reese’s one?”

February marks six months of your relationship with Dejun. It also marks six months of your friendship with Yangyang. It is time for your weekly Sunday rituals of watching old cartoons and eating breakfast, and you could’ve sworn that box was still half full last week. You rummage through the top drawer Yangyang had designated for snacks and other foods in his dorm as he takes out the milk from his mini fridge and carries it over to his desk.

“I ran out a few days ago. There’s Cinnamon Toast Crunch somewhere in there though.”

With a victorious cry, you manage to pull out the slightly crushed box of the aforementioned cereal from underneath the packages of flamin’ hot Cheetos and spicy nacho Doritos and triumphantly bring it over to your best friend. He already pulls out two bowls (which were stolen from the dining hall) and hands over the plastic spoons in his grasp (which was also taken from the dining hall).

“Thanks.” After dropping a spoon into each bowl, you shake out the sugary cereal squares before pouring the milk because you’re not an absolute heathen who puts milk in first, like Sicheng. Yangyang clambers up to his top bunk bed, and you carefully pass over the two bowls of cereal, milk sloshing precariously near the edges. You climb up afterwards, and he gives you your bowl once you settle down.

“So, Scooby Doo or Pokémon?”

“Mm, we watched Pokémon last Sunday already, so let’s do Scooby Doo this time.” He nods in agreement, pulling up the cartoon from the queue in Netflix, and the two of you lean back against the ginormous mound of pillows and stuffed animals of his that occupy nearly half of his bed.

You’re shoveling a spoonful of cereal into your mouth when he casually asks, “So how’re you and Dejun doing?”

Choking slightly, you quickly swallow. “We’re doing good. I think he booked a table at the Italian restaurant down the street for Valentine’s Day. Are you doing anything for Valentine’s?”

“I’m forcing Renjun to come watch that “‘Happy Death Day’ movie with me.” The faint sounds of the Scooby Doo theme song plays in the background as you hum in acknowledgement, mouth twisting into a mischievous smirk.

“That’s so sweet. So who confessed to who? Not gonna lie, I thought you had a crush on Hyuck, not Jun.”

“... I would shove you right now, but I just did my laundry, and rewashing my comforter is expensive and I’m out of quarters.”

You stick your tongue out at him, and he rolls his eyes before lifting his bowl up to sip the best part of having Cinnamon Toast Crunch: the milk infused with all the cinnamony, sugary goodness. You let your spoon fall back into your bowl with a soft clink, a sudden worrying thought popping into your head.

“I bought him some customized guitar picks and a pretty composition book. Do you think he’ll like it?”

“That’s a pretty basic gift, isn’t it? It feels like something Kun would get him,” he teases, but his heart falls when he notices you chewing on your bottom lip, spoon held limply in your hand.

“Hey, I’m just joking, of course he would like it. He’s completely whipped. He’ll love anything from you.” Yangyang’s voice grows softer, and he fiddles with a stray thread on his comforter, avoiding eye contact with you. “I know I would.”

He looks up slightly and sees you smiling gratefully at him, eyes shining bright. He quickly ducks his head, turning away slightly to hide the hues of pink blooming on his cheeks. He feels you leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder with a quiet sigh, and his breath hitches in his throat.

“Thanks, Yang.”

Replaying the sight of your smile in his mind makes his stomach flip flop, and he resists the overwhelming urge to tell you you’re pretty, pushing it back into the farthest crevice of his mind. Your head on his shoulder makes him feel like he’s carrying the entire world, and he doesn’t know what to do. He paints on a tight smile of his own, silently hoping you can’t hear the way his heart nearly pounds out of his chest.

Yangyang knows that having feelings for his best friend, specifically one of his good friends’ girlfriends, is something he absolutely should not be doing, but he can’t help it. His stupid heart refuses to listen to his brain. For now, all he can do is desperately hope that this dumb crush of his goes away soon because while 99% of his friends are oblivious (including you), Ten and Donghyuck are not. They’ll be able to spot his feelings from a mile away, like how Kun always knows when there’s a good sale going on at the Asian supermarket downtown (This week, it was the 50% off bean sprouts and chili paste).

Letting out an inaudible sigh, Yangyang carefully rests his head on top of yours. Clutching the empty bowl with one hand, he shoves his other one under his thigh to stop himself from reaching over and tangling his fingers with yours. He stares at the screen, watching until the bright colors blur together.

“Anytime.”

He likes you in February.

AUGUST 2019.

The earth spins around the sun for another time, and August makes its presence known once again. It’s Thursday night, and you’re sitting on the countertop in Nu Chi Theta’s kitchen, swinging your legs back and forth as Yangyang struggles to make some scrambled eggs because the half filled carton of eggs the two of you managed to find is the only thing that isn’t expired (besides Jeno’s protein shakes, but neither of you are gonna touch that cardboard tasting monstrosity).

“Maybe I should make it.” You peer over at the frying pan, wincing when you see the full damage of your future meal. “Did you use oil?”

“Of course I did!” he exclaims indignantly before pitifully pushing around the nearly charred mess of yolk and whites around with his spatula. “I’m not Mark.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you mutter, waving your hand around to dissipate the acrid burning smell, and Yangyang throws you a dirty look. He grabs a fork and stabs a small chunk of the eggs. Picking it up, he brings it closer to his mouth before hesitating. His eyes dart to you, and you raise your eyebrows at him, a silent challenge in your gaze. The sad piece of egg hovers in the air for a few more seconds before he defeatedly drops it back into the pan.

“Okay, what if we just Uber Eats some McDonald’s?” Turning off the stove, he then tosses the remnants of his cooking into the trash and drops the pan into the sink.

“Stellar plan. Best idea you’ve had all night.” You hop off the counter to stand next to him, propping your chin on his shoulder to see him pull up the app. He immediately puts in your usual order along with his before holding it up for you to see it better.

“Looks good?”

“Looks perfect.”

He clicks the confirmation button, and the delivery is set to come in 30 minutes. You’re suddenly hyper aware of how close you are with your chest pressed against his back and hastily move away, warmth spreading across your cheeks.

Glancing over at your best friend, you don't miss the way Yangyang smiles down at something on his phone before his fingers fly across the screen. When he looks up, you immediately turn away, focusing your eyes on anything but him.

“Hey, you’re going to the Alpha Sig formal, right?” Yangyang calls out, and you throw on a teasing grin.

“You mean Alpha Sigma Psi, also known as the sorority I’m in?”

“Ah, right, yeah.” He flushes, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “But you’re going, right?”

You nod, the sudden realization creeping up on you. “Oh yeah, I am, thanks for reminding me. I completely forgot to ask, but do you want t—”

“Ningning just asked me to go with her,” Yangyang blurts out, and you freeze, failing to hide your shock for a split second before you regain your composure.

“Oh wow, that’s great, Yang! I’ll see you there then.” You try to give him a convincing smile. He wrings his hands, biting his bottom lip. Something is on his mind. You can tell. He’s not someone to hold back with his words, but this time, he is.

“I… I don’t know if I’m gonna go,” he says at last. Your heart picks up a little at that. Does that mean he doesn’t want to go to the dance at all? Or does he not want to go with Ningning? If you asked him now, would it make a difference?

“I’ve never slow danced,” he confesses, leaning against the opposite counter, and your heart drops. So that was it. Of course, he wouldn’t reject Ningning. She’s an absolute goddess, heck, you wouldn’t say no if she asked you either. You stamp out that last flicker of hope.

“What if I suck at it?” he continues, absentmindedly carding his fingers through his hair. “Oh god, I bet Yukhei and Kunhang are never gonna let me live it down. I can do choreographed dances, but I’m gonna mess up over a stupid slow dance. But where am I supposed to put my hands?! Like on her shoulders? Her waist? Do I hold her hand?”

Your eyes follow the way his hair ruffles slightly, and you wonder if it’s as soft as it looks. You swallow hard before saying quietly, “I can teach you?”

His hand pauses mid-movement, and your eyes fly down to meet his. His eyes widen, and he contemplates your offer for a split second before nodding excitedly. “Yeah, that’d be great! Can you teach me right now? While we wait for our food to come!”

“S-sure,” you stammer, flustered at the sudden acceptance and his eagerness. “Um, here? In the kitchen?”

“Yeah, why not?” He shrugs before straightening up. “The lights should be dimmed, right? We can kind of mimic that here to set the mood or whatever.”

He goes over and fiddles with the light switch, flicking it on and off, and you laugh, walking over and placing your hand over his. “What are you doing? Some kind of Kevin Nguyen mating call to look for a rave bae?”

“First off, I’m offended that you think I’d be one of them,” Yangyang narrows his eyes at you. “Secondly, I’m trying to make this feel more formal dance-y. Oh, wait!”

He turns off the lights for the last time and reaches over to pull open the refrigerator doors, the artificial fluorescent light pouring out and mixing with the faint beams coming in through the window from the street lamps outside. He grins at you, satisfied. “Romantic, huh?”

You roll your eyes, but the amused smile on your face gives away your true feelings. “Wow, Romeo, you swept me off my feet. The food is gonna go bad, and Kun is gonna kill you for the high electricity bill.”

“What food? Jeno’s protein shakes probably never expire.” He snorts before standing closer to you, his hands resting on either side of you on the counter. You can see the pretty gold flecks in his irises, and your breath gets caught in your throat. “And I guess this means you gotta teach me fast before we waste more electricity, right?”

You place your hands on his chest and lightly push him away, and he laughs, stepping back. You let out a shaky breath, remembering that your lungs need oxygen in order to, you know, continue living.

“Okay,” you clear your throat before pulling out your phone and putting on a slow song. “Ready?”

“You chose Ed Sheeran? Thinking Out Loud? Really?”

You raise your hands up defensively. “Hey, he’s the king of sappy slow songs that all girls want to be played at their weddings for their first dance.”

When your legs don't work like they used to before,

And I can't sweep you off of your feet,

Will your mouth still remember the taste of my love?

Will your eyes still smile from your cheeks?

“Is this the song you want played at your wedding?” He raises an eyebrow at you, and your face grows warm. You ignore the question, and this time, you’re the one taking a bold step forward, a few centimeters now separating you and your best friend. You see his Adam’s apple bob as he gulps lightly before meeting your eyes.

And darling, I will be loving you 'til we're seventy,

And baby, my heart could still fall as hard at twenty-three,

And I'm thinking 'bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways.

“So, your hands go here.” You take his hands and place them on either side of your waist. His arms freeze up. “Relax, Yang. Precious cargo here.”

He lets out a chuckle, loosening his grip as he starts to relax. You reach up and slide your arms around his neck, interlocking your fingers. You gaze back at him, saying softly, “Now pull me closer.”

He does so.

Maybe just the touch of a hand,

Oh me I fall in love with you every single day,

And I just wanna tell you I am.

“And now follow my lead. We’re going to take one step. And then another. We’re just slowly turning in a circle.”

After a few spins and steps, you stop leading and let yourself be led. Yangyang continues to hold onto you carefully, and you can hear him muttering a 1, 2, 3, 4 count under his breath until he finally gets the hang of it. He grows a little braver, pulling you even closer.

So honey now,

Take me into your loving arms,

Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars.

“Are you going with Dejun?” he asks quietly, and you stiffen at the mention at him before shaking your head.

“No, we broke up in July.”

Yangyang falters in his step before recovering. “Oh. You never told me.”

“Yeah.” You struggle to keep your voice level. “I just… he’s your friend, and I didn’t want to make it weird.”

“You’re my best friend though,” he says firmly, looking you directly in the eyes. His grip on your waist tightens. “It’s his loss. That dumbass just lost the best person who’ll ever come into his life.”

You give him a tired half smile, one that doesn’t quite meet your eyes. He hugs you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your waist and securing you against his chest. You rest your head in the crook of his neck and hope that he doesn’t feel how quickly your heart beats in your chest.

Place your head on my beating heart,

I'm thinking out loud,

Maybe we found love right where we are.

“Thanks, Yang,” you whisper, your breath tickling his skin. He envelops you tightly, and the two of you continue to spin in slow circles, quietly dancing in the refrigerator light as the remaining verses of the song warble in the background.

You think you finally understand what Dejun meant when he said he’s breaking up with you because your heart was already occupied by someone else.

You fall in love with him in August.

NOVEMBER 2019.

[ 12:54 a.m. ] yang 🐏🤪: hey you up?

[ 12:54 a.m. ] yang 🐏🤪: 7/11 in ten mins?

Tiredly rubbing your eyes, you stumble out of your dorm building, one of Jeno’s sweaters draped over your figure. November nights are cold, but this one seems chillier than usual. Yangyang stands near the front steps, and he stiffens up when he notices whose hoodie you’re wearing. He makes no mention of it though when you join him.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” He glances over to you as the two of you walk side by side to the small convenience store just on the edge of campus. You shake your head, shoving your hands into the front pocket of your sweater.

“I was up cramming for midterms. I could use a break anyway,” you shrug. A wisp of your hair falls in your face, and Yangyang starts to reach out to fix it, but forces himself to keep his hand by his side. You reach out to carelessly brush it away, tucking it behind your ear.

“What about you?” You look over at him, noting the bags under his eyes. “Rough night?”

He smiles tiredly at you, shoving his hands into his pockets as he kicks a stray pebble along the sidewalk. “More like rough week. Two more midterms left, and they’re for electromagnetic theory and linear systems.”

“Oh god, good luck. I took linear systems today, and it was absolutely brutal.” You wince, brightening up when you see the familiar neon orange, red, and green lights up ahead.

“Maybe I should just withdraw and take it again next quarter,” your best friend grumbles, kicking the stone as far as he possibly can.

“You really want another quarter with Hwang?”

“You’re right,” he sighs, “I just need to get a C+ to maintain my GPA. C if I’m pushing it.”

The two of you hurry over to the 7-Eleven, quickening your pace, until you reach the store doors, and you pull them open. Entering quickly, you push the door open slightly wider, and Yangyang slips in behind you. The cashier doesn’t even look up, texting away on his phone. You make a beeline towards the chips aisle, grabbing a bag of flamin’ hot Cheetos and a pack of sour gummy worms.

“What are you getting, Yang?” You call out over your shoulder, eyes zeroing in on the Red Bull stand at the end of the aisle. When you hear no response, you halt in your steps, turning around. Yangyang stands in the middle of the aisle, looking dazed under the fluorescent lights.

Putting your items back on the shelf, you approach him, reaching out and touching his arm gently. “Yangyang, what’s wrong?”

He jerks back before silently holding up his phone for you to see. There’s a slew of text messages from Ningning a few hours ago, and a quick scan tells you all you need to know. Your heart weighs heavily in your chest when you look back at him, a forlorn expression on his face.

“She dumped me,” he says quietly, shoving the phone back into his pocket. “She said our relationship was like a friendship. She didn’t feel anything. She said we could still be friends if I wanted to be though.”

He jabs a large bag of Lays potato chips angrily as his voice raises slightly higher. “But I don’t get it. Do friends take each other on dates? Do friends spend the night? Do friends hug each other and hold hands walking to class? Do friends spend three hundred dollars to do a surprise weekend trip for their birthday?”

He whirls around to face you, and he’s so close that you can see those pretty golden sparkles in his eyes again. Suddenly, his hands are cupping your face, and the next thing you know, he’s kissing you. Your eyes widen for a fraction of a second before they flutter shut, and you press your lips against his. The 90s pop station music playing overhead seems to fade away, and all you can focus on is that your best friend tastes like spearmint gum and grape soju. He pulls away abruptly, the realization of what he’s done finally hitting him as his chest heaves up and down.

“Do friends kiss like this?”

His voice is barely a whisper, but it cuts through the silence. You feel like you’re spinning out of control, a split second from careening and crashing.

“No, we—they don’t,” you mumble, and Yangyang sees the starstruck look in your eyes, and he wants to apologize: to say sorry for kissing you. But he doesn’t. Because for some reason, he doesn’t feel sorry. He closes his eyes, curling his hands into fists before exhaling slowly. He sees you looking back at him this time, and he wonders if you feel as equally lost as he does.

Because you’re right. Friends don’t kiss each other like that. Friends don’t feel like this about each other.

He kisses you in November.

AUGUST 2020.

The sun still shines bright late into the day, and August greets you like an old friend. You’re absentmindedly doodling in the margins of your notebook designated for Quantum Mechanics. Yangyang sits next to you in the lecture hall, making a bunch of origami cranes before tossing them at Renjun’s head right in front of him. When the bird reaches its target for the sixth time in a row, the annoyed boy whirls around in his seat, glaring at your best friend.

“Stop that,” he hisses, and Yangyang innocently raises his hands in the air. Renjun angrily frowns at him before turning back around in his seat. After a few minutes, Yangyang flicks another crane towards his friend. If this was a cartoon, you would see steam blowing out of your friend’s ears. You silently watch as he wordlessly picks up his phone, seething as he presses on a particular number.

Suddenly, Travis Scott’s SICKO MODE starts blasting, amplified by the large auditorium-like room. The professor goes silent, and everyone turns to see Yangyang scrambling to pick up his phone. He fumbles around for a few seconds with it before finally shutting it off and putting it on vibrate mode. Cheeks burning red, he meekly puts his phone back in his bag and squeaks out a “sorry” before sinking down in his chair (You can see the culprit grinning like the cat ate the canary right in front of him. Karma’s a bitch who also goes by the name of Renjun).

You pat his arm consolingly as he sulks next to you for a few minutes, mouth jutting out into a pout. You decide to take pity on him and lean closer to him, whispering quietly, “Would it make you feel better if I bought you boba after class?”

Immediately, he brightens up. “One oolong milk tea, half sugar with white pearls and coconut jelly?”

“Yes, I’ll pay for your overpriced drink,” you huff, thinking about how his one seven dollar drink could buy you a whole rotisserie chicken that’ll last you a week. At least the fluffy dog at Cloudy with a Chance of Boba is cute and fun to play with. “I’ll even get the honey waffle fries.”

“Heck yeah!” he whisper-yells, fist pumping quietly before he suddenly deflates. “Wait, I can’t. I promised Lia I’d get lunch with her.”

Ah, right, there’s Lia now. Yangyang’s new girlfriend: the only other student who went to Düsseldorf, Germany to study abroad over the summer, and inevitably, the two of them became close. All you really know about her is that she’s pretty, she’s in Iota Theta Zeta, and she followed you on Instagram a few weeks ago (of course, you followed her back because of the unspoken best friend and girlfriend policy).

Her page looks carefully curated, and there’s a common pink tinted theme going on throughout her feed. She has over a thousand followers, and it seems like Yangyang fits perfectly in her magazine curated life, judging by how he occupies nearly every picture taken in the summer with her or how he’s tagged as the photographer. You can’t deny that they look good together, pointedly shoving the green eyed monster back under the bed.

You take a peek at your messy Instagram page where you only post pictures when you’re half drunk, so there’s no semblance of uniformity anywhere. You shrug at him, pocketing your phone.

“No biggie. I’ll see if Karina is up for some boba. She’s been holed up in the dance studio already, and it’s only week two of classes, can you believe it?”

“I remember Ten was the same way,” Yangyang hums, eyes fixated on his phone and fingers tapping away. He laughs quietly, lips curling into a pretty smile, and you glance over curiously.

“What’s so funny?”

“Hmm?” Yangyang finally tears his eyes away from his screen for a split second to look at you before another buzz takes his attention away. He’s distracted, lovestruck, and you wistfully smile before turning back to your notes.

“Sorry, what’d you say earlier?” he loudly whispers a few minutes later, and you barely glance up from the large bulbasaur doodle you’re in the progress of completing right next to the chart marking the wave functions for a bouncing ball that you had copied down from the blackboard.

“Oh, I just asked what was so funny,” you murmur, coloring in the flowers you drew around the Pokémon with your blue ballpoint pen.

He looks confused for a moment before lighting up. “Oh! It was just a German joke. It’s not really funny if I translate it though.”

“Got it, no worries.” You notice the professor starting a new example problem, and you abandon your drawing, focusing on the formulas rapidly filling up the chalkboards in front of you. A quiet chuckle echoes in your ears, and you pause in your note taking to look over and see your best friend still typing on his phone. You make a mental reminder to create a copy of your notes for him later on when you pass the library on the way to the dining hall.

“Hey, Y/N.” Yangyang nudges you gently. “Rain check on the boba?”

You offer him a soft smile. “Of course. Anytime.”

He gives you a quick grin in return before his attention returns to the device in his hand—or rather, the pretty girl behind those texts. Your best friend is sitting right next to you, but you’ve never felt so far away. You know distance makes the heart grow fonder, but you don’t think it’s possible to be even fonder of him than you are now. Bad habits are hard to break, and you’ve made a terrible one of loving him. No wonder it’s beginning to hurt so much.

You lose him in August.

DECEMBER 2020.

December is the coldest month of the year, yet it is also simultaneously the warmest with all the holiday festivities it brings. If Yangyang were to choose a month to describe you, it’d be this one. You are a walking paradox, a conundrum he might never solve, an oxymoron come to life. He doesn’t understand how you can be his best friend, yet feel like a stranger; a friend who he wants as a lover; someone who has created such an impact in his life, but disappears seamlessly here and there.

He wonders when you’ve gotten so distant. He wonders why he never noticed the way you seemed to slip away through the cracks until it’s now nearing the end of the year, and the last time he’s seen you in person was before the November autumn break.

But you’re here.

You’re standing right next to the punch bowl filled with spiked eggnog, wearing a garish knitted button down jumper with brightly colored Christmas lights decorating it. It’s perfectly in theme with the Ugly Christmas Sweater party Nu Chi is holding, and Yangyang is beyond ecstatic to know that you’re attending. He had texted you an invite two weeks ago, and you merely reacted with a thumbs up.

Yangyang swears he was going to follow up with you on that, but he got so caught up with midterms, then meeting Lia’s family for Thanksgiving, then studying for finals, and then finally, preparing for this party. Buying enough beer for twenty-three keg stands is a lot more difficult than it seems (Donghyuck’s car broke down halfway during one trip, and they all had to carry back the packs of beers to the house in 40 degree weather in their Sperry boat shoes and Patagonia long sleeves that definitely weren’t cut out for this kind of weather).

His girlfriend is somewhere in the room, wearing the other half of the reindeer sweater she forced him to put on, but all he can focus on is you. He hurriedly makes his way over, skidding to a stop in front of you, and you’re startled before a smile spreads across your face.

“Hey, you, I haven’t seen you in a while.” You grin at him, reaching out to poke the reindeer tail sticking out from the front of his itchy sweater (Lia got to wear the head half of the reindeer, while he was stuck with the behind).

“Yeah, how have you been?” He reaches around you to pick up a cup and pour himself some eggnog. He offers you one, but you decline with a small shake of your head.

“I’ve been doing good, a bit tired with finals coming up, but what’s new?” You joke, grabbing one of the sugar cookies from the table. You’re secretly surprised that they actually have real food (No, Hyuck, Jell-O shots do not count as real food). You suspect Jaemin has something to do with it. He always contributes to the annual Greek row bake sale.

“Are you here with someone? Did Karina come?” he asks, curiosity coating every word. He looks around for your roommate, but she’s nowhere to be found.

You shake your head. “No, I actually came with—”

“Me!”

Yukhei bounds over, slipping an arm over your shoulder. He hands you a new cup of apple cider, which you accept gratefully. He grins happily at Yangyang, who freezes up at the sight of his tall friend. “I asked her to be my date for the party, and she agreed. She also made our sweaters! Aren’t they so cool? There’s even lights that spell my name and play Christmas songs. She did a bunch of cool programming tricks to make them work.”

Yangyang realizes with a start that the two of you are indeed wearing matching sweaters, and that leaves a rather sour taste in his mouth (and it definitely wasn’t because of expired eggnog). The corners of his lips tilt downward as he presses his lips together tightly.

“So… you two are together?” He gestures between you and Yukhei with a forced laugh. Jealousy never did look good on anybody, and unfortunately, he’s not an exception.

“We’re just seeing each other and seeing how it goes for now,” you answer quietly, noting the way your best friend reacts. You have always been good at reading him, and you tread carefully now, not wanting to make a scene. Drunk Yangyang never holds anything back, and he’s had quite a few pre-game shots already (It definitely doesn’t help that he’s a lightweight, too).

“I see. How did you guys meet? Or I guess, start talking?” He attempts to look intimidating, staring down at Yukhei, but it’s a difficult feat to accomplish, especially when he’s trying to stare down a six foot guy who’s more like an overgrown puppy and his friend.

“Oh, she came by for one of your boba runs, but you were still out with Lia. So I asked if I could go with her.” Yukhei flashes his pearly whites at you, and you chuckle, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“I said yes, and we hit it off, I guess.”

“You guess? And you took him on our boba runs?”

“You were out with Lia,” you say defensively, and he blanches when he hears his girlfriend’s name come out of your mouth.

“You could’ve waited,” he mutters, but you still hear it, and you give him a scathing look, finally too tired of this push and pull game that’s been going on behind the scenes for nearly three years now.

“I did. I waited over an hour here for you, but you didn’t show up or even text me that you were gonna be late. Yukhei was nice enough to offer to go with me.”

He stays silent, and you gnaw on your bottom lip, unsure of what to say next. Yukhei looks at you in concern, but you reach up and squeeze his hand reassuringly, which your best friend doesn’t fail to notice, his lips pressing into an even thinner line.

“I don’t understand what the deal is,” you finally burst out, startling both boys. “What’s the big deal about me and Yukhei going out?”

Something inside of him finally snaps. “The big deal is that you’re basically sleeping through my list of friends and then breaking up with them! First Dejun, then Jeno, now Yukhei? Who’s next? Should I give Renjun a heads up? Pencil you into his planner? Or Sicheng? Sungchan? You have a class with him, so you’re bound to flirt with him, too, right? When are you gonna stop fucking around with my frien—”

He gasps, stopping mid-outburst as he stares at you in disbelief. Apple cider slides down from his hair, dripping onto his face and soaking into his sweater, the sticky juice clinging to his skin uncomfortably. You’re absolutely seething, the empty cup crackling in your clenched fist. Shocked, Yukhei carefully tugs the plastic away from you and places it on the table before replacing it with his own hand, his thumb caressing circles on the back of your hand soothingly. Yangyang doesn’t dare to meet his furious gaze, lifting his chin to look at you instead. The entire room has hushed down by now, all eyes staring directly at the three of you in a mixture of surprise and slight terror.

“Screw you, Yangyang,” you say lowly, voice shaking with anger. Tears form on the edge of your waterline, but you blink them away before hastily brushing a stray droplet from your cheek. “They asked me out. I said yes. We went out. It didn’t work out. We move on. Just like how you’ve gone out with my friends. And they didn’t work out, so you moved on. So what’s so wrong about that? What’s so wrong about trying again to find love?”

He can’t answer you, curling his hands into fists until his fingernails indent miniature crescents in his palms—until the pain overtakes the feelings that are threatening to spill from his heart. Yangyang may not be yours, but he doesn’t like the fact that he can’t call you his either.

Love. That’s what you want, that’s what you crave, but not if it’s from him. So what is he supposed to do with love that’s unwanted? It’s bursting at the seams, and he has nowhere to hide it anymore.

He loves you in December.

AUGUST 2021.

August sneaks up on you this time around, and you find yourself in Kunhang’s apartment. All of your close friends are here, starting the last year of youth with one final first day party. You think back to that day three years ago: when your eyes met a pair of equally bright ones for the first time.

Curled up next to Yukhei on the couch, you look across the room and meet those very same eyes, although they seem hazier this time around. Lia is wrapped around his arm, and you think it’s quite ironic how both your and his relationships remain the same after all this time. Perhaps you both were bad luck for each other, leading to the other’s demise with short lived relationships. He looks away from you.

The rules of truth or dare are simple. You cannot ask the same person again until three other people have been asked first, and no one can be asked more than three times in each round. And, for reasons you can’t understand, everyone seems to take the code of truth seriously.

“I’ll start,” Kunhang announces, leaning back in one of the several beanbags he has in his place. “Goeun, truth or dare?”

Goeun sighs, leaning back on the palms of her hands. “Dare.”

“You and Mark, seven minutes in heaven.” Hendery points towards the coat closet, and the immediate reaction of hoots and wolf whistles has the girl rolling her eyes. With an exasperated huff, she stands up and pulls a red faced Mark along with her.

“Wait, you gotta pick the next person!” Donghyuck calls out, and she stops in her tracks, throwing open the closet door and shrugging. “You can choose for me.”

With that, she and Mark disappear behind the door, and Donghyuck turns toward the rest of the group, eyes glimmering mischievously. You pay no attention to him, absentmindedly playing with Yukhei’s fingers. You tug one of his rings off his finger, and he smiles, plucking it from your grasp carefully before holding your hand. He carefully slides it onto your right ring finger, but it falls off. Grinning, he pretends to try it on every single one of your fingers until finally settling on your thumb. The ring fits snugly there, and you admire it, wriggling your thumb around.

“Well, look at that. It fits you. I think that means we’re meant to be,” Yukhei says, smiling broadly, and you laugh, interlocking your fingers with his again before glancing down at the silver engraved band resting on your finger. The weight of the metal feels heavy resting against your knuckle.

“Yangyang, truth or dare.”

Donghyuck’s voice cuts through your thoughts, and you instinctively perk up in your seat at the sound of his name before freezing up in your spot. Yukhei squeezes your hand softly, and you tighten your grip around his fingers.

“Truth.”

“You’re no fun,” Donghyuck sighs, slouching back against the armrest. Yukhei leans over and whispers something in his ear before settling back next to you, shifting slightly to wrap his arm around you. Donghyuck lifts an eyebrow at your boyfriend before shrugging. “Okay, here’s an easy one. Are you in love…”

“Yes.” is his immediate response, and you notice how Lia absolutely preens next to him.

“… with Y/N?”

Your breath hitches in your throat, and you immediately turn your head to look at Yukhei, your eyes growing wide in horror. He looks apologetic, shoulders drooping. “I’m sorry, but just the way he looks at you, it’s so obvious, and I had to know.”

You whip around to face the boy in question. With bated breath, you look at him, but Yangyang stares at the center of the floor, struggling internally. Everyone is quiet, and it reminds you of the calm before a storm. At last, he looks up, gazing right at you, and you can almost swear that you see those pretty little gold flecks in his irises from here.

“Yes,” Yangyang confesses quietly.

There’s almost a collective gasp rippling through the room, and Yukhei lets out an inaudible swear under his breath. Your grip on his hand grows slack as you fumble to get a grasp on the entire situation.

He loves you. He loves you. He loves you.

The words echo in your mind like a mantra until it grows so loud that you can’t hear any of your own thoughts anymore. Lia is in absolute hysterics, demanding an explanation from him, but he merely shrugs her off. Standing up, he quickly moves to leave the room, glancing at you one more time before disappearing out the front door.

It’s like your body is on auto-pilot after this. You drop Yukhei’s hand, immediately standing up and rushing after your best friend, paying no mind to the hushed whispers that only seem to increase in volume once you leave. You step out onto the porch, and there he is, sitting on the steps.

You quietly stand behind him, contemplating what to say and carefully choosing your next words. But there’s only one question on your mind.

“Why did you say that?”

He stays silent for a moment, staring out at the moon shining brightly ahead. “Because I meant it.”

Your heart wrenches in your chest. “You shouldn’t.”

He finally turns to look at you, an indescribable look in his eyes. It reminds you of heartbreak. “But I do. And I tried not to for the past three fucking years, but I can’t anymore.”

“Since freshman year?” You feel the tears well up in your eyes, and this time, you let them go. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Yangyang grips onto the edge of the stairs tightly, frustration ringing with every word that falls from his mouth. “Because I was scared. And I thought you never felt the same way. You’re my best friend, and I didn’t want to lose you.”

“Yang…” You whisper, hand reaching out as you let it hover over his shoulder for a few seconds. Then, you pull back, curling your fingers into fists, pressing crescent indentations into the palms of your hands.

He stands up, whirling around to look at you, desperate. “Tell me I’m not too late. Please, Y/N.”

Something inside of you breaks. You open your mouth and start to say something when the door opens behind you. Turning around, you see Yukhei. His eyes widen when he sees the two of you standing there.

You know this is it. This is the moment. This is where you have to decide.

“I, I was just looking for you. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.” Yukhei awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, taking a step back. “I’m sorry, I’m gonna go back in and—”

“No, wait, it’s okay,” you gently interrupt him. You reach out and slip your hand into his, and he relaxes, giving you a relieved smile. You smile softly back at your boyfriend before turning to face him, eyes apologetic.

“I’m sorry, Yangyang.”

He and you are asymptotes: two lines curving towards each other, but never touching; two hands reaching towards each other, but never interlocking; two people tangling their red strings of fate, but never tying.

You give him one last glance before going back inside with Yukhei.

You break his heart in August.

SEPTEMBER 2021.

September is supposed to be a new beginning: the transition from summer to autumn. Yangyang doesn’t think he can let go of you as easily as the trees shed their green for gold and red. Wherever he goes, wherever he looks, little reminders of you bloom in every crevice. You’re absolutely everywhere and nowhere, and it drives him crazy.

He thinks he’s gone completely insane when he hears your laugh while he’s walking to the laundromat one day. He shoves his airpods in and continues on his way until he sees you. Walking across the street, there you are. You’re on the phone with someone, and he contemplates going over to say hello. But suddenly, you’re hanging up the phone and waving eagerly at someone. When he turns his head to look, his heart drops and gets buried six feet under. He hurriedly ducks into a nearby bookstore and watches as you run up to Yukhei, slipping your hand into his like it’s second nature to you now. The two of you walk off together, and Yangyang is left standing at the window of the store until the shop owner politely asks if there’s anything he needs.

He doubts a time machine is something they have in stock, so he silently shakes his head and steps out onto the street once again. It is now silent and empty.

He loses you in September.

AUGUST 2022.

A lot can change in eleven months.

You’re twenty two years old, but you feel like you’re eighteen again. You know you’re going to see him for the first time since September at Kun’s housewarming. You had repeatedly assured Yukhei that you’d be fine. After all, life goes on; the world doesn’t stop just because you had a falling out with your best friend, even if it may have been a little more than that. Nevertheless, a year has nearly passed. Time is known to be the best healer, and perhaps your heart has shed its old skin and habits.

Your hand is safely enveloped in Yukhei’s, and the two of you walk towards your older friend’s new apartment. He playfully swings your interlocked hands back and forth, and you giggle, tightening your grip around his fingers. You stop in front of the door, the muffled sounds of a party slipping through the cracks. You suck in a breath, shoulders tensed. He’s in there.

“Are you okay?”

Yukhei squeezes your hand gently, voice laced with concern. You remember to breathe, exhaling slowly and relaxing before nodding. You smile up at him. “I’m okay.”

“If you want, we can go back home now, have another NCIS marathon, and drink this by ourselves.” Yukhei waves around the nice bottle of wine the two of you had brought for Kun. “We can even stop by the convenience store and get some ramen.”

You laugh quietly, the corners of your lips upturning with mirth. “It’s okay, I’m fine, Yukhei, I promise. Plus, I have you, right?”

He brightens up at that, practically beaming at you, and your heart skips a beat. “Right!”

You reach out and knock on the door. Kun greets the two of you, and you enter his apartment. Yukhei still doesn’t let go of your hand, and you follow behind him as you weave your way through the living room, greeting some of your friends. You hear Kunhang calling out to your boyfriend from the kitchen and feel him hesitate next to you. You squeeze his hand gently before letting go and nudging him in the direction of his friend. Yukhei gives you one last look, but you wave him off, smiling goodnaturedly and silently assuring that you’re okay. He swoops down and leaves behind a soft kiss for you before going.

You walk over to the alcohol table, pouring yourself something to drink. Leaning against the wall, you take a sip of your drink, your eyes flitting over the rim of your cup and slowly scanning the room. It feels like forever, like everything is moving in slow motion, like the world is submerged underwater, but it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds.

You find him easily. After all, it’s hard to forget someone whose features you’ve memorized over the past four years. Your eyes map the delicate outline of his face once more, and for a moment, you wonder if red is still his favorite color, or who he shares a carton of Ben and Jerry’s with nowadays. You wonder if he thinks of you sometimes, too.

But then, you wonder where Yukhei is. You search around until you see your boyfriend still standing in the kitchen, laughing at something your mutual friend said. Your eyes soften when you see him grab your favorite snack. You turn back around, your heart swelling in your chest tenfold, and your lips curl upwards, an endeared expression on your face.

That’s when you notice that he’s looking at you.

You brace yourself, waiting for the tidal wave of emotions to wash over you and the quickening of your heart rate to greet you like an old friend. Because that’s what always happens when you’re around him. After all, he is the biggest what-if in your life. He is someone you almost loved forever, someone you almost stayed for.

And yet, nothing happens. You wait a little longer. The world still goes round, and you’re still breathing. There’s no shortness of breath, no erratic heart palpitations, no sweaty palms, absolutely nothing. Liu Yangyang is a stranger in a familiar body, and your heart remains still.

You give Yangyang a faint smile, nodding towards him, and it feels like a sudden jolt in his heart. Time stops, and all he can see is you. You look beautiful. You have always been beautiful. This is his chance. Whatever higher entity out there has taken pity on him and given him a second try to make it right. He finally takes a step towards you, and the tender, encouraging expression in your eyes gives him the strength to take another one. After all, the eyes are the windows to the soul. Clutching his drink in hand, he pushes his way through the crowd. He’s only eight, seven, six, five steps away from you now. A smile grows on his face as relief curls around his heart like a bandage. You’re standing there, waiting for him, smiling at him.

And suddenly, you’re no longer looking at him.

You stopped looking at him.

Yukhei makes his presence known next to you, excitedly chattering about something and gesturing towards the kitchen as he hands you something to eat. It’s a snickerdoodle cookie. Your favorite. Your eyes are fixated on the tall boy, positively sparkling as you beam at him.

Yangyang feels like he can’t breathe. The bandage is ripped off, and all he can feel is excruciating pain like a thousand pinpricks into his heart before the numbness hits. He freezes, rooting himself in that spot on the scratched hardwood floor as his colleagues and friends continue to jostle around him. As his world crumbles around him, he can’t tear his eyes away from you. They stay on you, the barest traces of nostalgia lingering in the dimmed golden flecks of his irises that you had still admired all those months ago. It’s like he’s trapped in a silent film, stuck in a fish bowl and swimming in circles, and he watches in horror as you outstretch your hand and intertwine your fingers around Yukhei’s, leaning up to press your lips against his tenderly. Your boyfriend looks at you like you hung the stars in the night sky yourself (He would believe it if you said you did).

You don’t look at him like that anymore.

Yangyang remembers when you used to. When you used to love him. When you were almost his. He feels something inside of him break for a second time.

The world continues to spin, and yet, he’s still not moving. He’s stuck in quicksand, sinking deeper and deeper as everyone around him moves on—as you move on. He desperately tries to keep you in his view, and his feet finally pick up as he lurches forward. He’s not fast enough. You’re slipping away, walking away from him, hand in hand with Yukhei, disappearing around the corner of the hallway, and he can’t do anything about it. It’s too late. He’s too late. The sticky remnants of cheap beer run down his wrist, and it finally registers in his mind that he had crushed the flimsy plastic cup in his hand sometime in between now and then. In a crowded room full of people, he’s left standing there, alone and lonely.

Almost is the worst way to love someone, Yangyang bitterly realizes. It hurts to lose someone you almost love. No, it was never an ‘almost’. He most certainly loved—loves—you. And it should be impossible to lose someone who was never his to begin with, yet he has. All this time, he thought he had you, but it had always been the other way around.

He was your August, he was your everything, and he is yours.

But you will never be his.

You let go of him in August.

1K notes · View notes

notsowrites · 3 years ago

Text

Untitled 3x08 Malex Coda #3

Last one before tonight! Why I get inspired to write about these two first thing in the morning when I’m drinking my coffee is beyond me, but here’s some more soft Malex with a bit of fluff.

Enjoy! <3

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They head back inside not long after, the cold winter air nipping at Alex's skin. Maria is sitting up near the pool tables, cell phone pressed to her ear, and Alex focuses on the smile on her face, the absolute happiness he can see radiating off her. She looks up as they walk in, waving at them, but their presence is not enough to get her to end the call.

Michael is already back at the bar, leaning against it, knocking shoulders with Isobel, Liz sitting just on her other side. There's a bottle of wine between them, and two half-filled glasses.

"She's on the phone with your brother," Liz supplies as he joins them.

He nods. It's not new, this thing between his brother and Maria. But the two of them acting on the looks that he's known they've shared since high school certainly is.

Sliding into the open seat to Michael's right is easy enough, and it does wonders to get the weight off his hip for now. His fingers dig into the muscle of his leg, gently massaging it as he watches Michael slide another beer in front of him.

"You okay?"

Michael's voice is quiet, almost a whisper in the already quiet bar. The only other people here are people he loves, people he trusts. He nods.

"Just sore."

He goes for honesty, which seems to be the theme of the day for them, and watches as Michael's eyes dart to his leg and further down to where his prosthetic is beneath his jeans. There's nothing he can do right now, not until he's home and can take it off, remove the lining, and possibly soak in the bathtub to ease the tension in it. But that can wait, because being here, with the people he loves and cares about is more important.

It's the most important thing.

"We can leave," Michael replies, as if reading his thoughts, but Alex reaches out, slipping his hand into Michael's, and shaking his head.

Liz speaks up first, her eyes going from Michael to him, and back again. "You don't have to stay. Max is safe, thanks to you. We should take the win and enjoy tonight."

The fight leaves him at Liz's words, and he acquiesces, sliding off the stool, and stretching his leg, one hand on the back of the bar stool for balance. He can feel Michael's eyes on him, watching him, and for once he loves how it feels. It's so easy to reach out, to grab Michael's hand in his own and give it a reassuring squeeze, before he crosses the floor towards Maria.

"So your I guess it's our time vibes were only a couple weeks off, eh?" He hears Isobel ask behind him, but doesn't turn around to look at how Michael reacts, only hearing Liz's shocked gasp instead.

"Greg, hold on, hold on, Alex is here-" Maria turns towards him, pulling the phone away from her ear and wrapping her arms around him. He stumbles a bit, expecting the weight but miscalculating for how tired he is. She immediately pulls back, looking him up and down, assessing.

He presses a kiss to her cheek. "I'm fine, just tired. Michael and I are heading out, but I didn't want to leave without telling you."

She raises an eyebrow at him.

"I'll call you tomorrow." He feels his cheeks go warm, and shifts on his feet, not out of the soreness in his hip this time.

"You better," Maria laughs as she puts the phone back up to her ear, and Alex can immediately hear his brother, just can't make out the words. He watches as Maria smiles, a laugh escaping her lips as she looks back at him.

"Greg says it's about damn time."

With a bit of an eyeroll, he leaves the two of them to their conversation and turns back to the bar, surprised to find Michael is standing near the doorway. There's a feeling that blossoms in his chest, seeing Michael standing there, waiting, for him. And after spending the day together, Alex isn't ready for it to end.

"Can you take me home?"

The car ride is quiet, but not awkward. Alex pushes himself up against the passenger door, and shifts himself so he's staring at Michael as he drives. Something he hasn't done since they were teenagers when they'd get in Michael's truck and drive out to the desert - the only way after the toolshed they could find some time for themselves.

Michael's hat is sitting on the seat between them, and Alex brushes his fingers along the rim. He loves the cowboy look, even if it covers up Michael's curls. Because he really is in love with Michael Guerin any way you slice it.

His house is on a quiet side street outside town, the yard lights on thanks to their automatic timer, illuminating the terrace and the front door. He and Maria had strung them up one Saturday afternoon a few weeks after he'd bought the house, her claiming it needed some ambiance. She'd been the one to help him pick out the patio furniture, and start making the house into some place he could call home.

Michael pulls the truck into the driveway next to his SUV, and Alex reaches for the door handle, before he realizes the engine is idling.

Does he want Michael to leave? He doesn't know. Today was a whirlwind for them - working together, talking, and Michael kissing him. As he'd pressed his face into Michael's shoulder earlier, he'd realized how much he missed this - missed Michael. There had always been something about the way it felt around him, when they weren't fighting, when they had a moment of quiet - an unexplainable calm that would fall over him. For the first time in years, he'd felt it again that morning, and then again later in the truck when Michael had touched his cheek.

He wouldn't label it an understanding, because it felt much deeper than that.

"Michael?"

"Yeah?"

But Michael makes no move to turn off the engine, so Alex tugs on that courage he'd used all day to tell Michael what he wanted. He'd never felt the need to put into words his every day actions - and perhaps part of that was his years in the Air Force, and the work he'd done that required a level of secrecy. But keeping Michael out of the loop recently hadn't done them, or their relationship, any favors. And he hated to see Michael so angry at him.

"Shut the engine off and come inside."

He watches Michael turn to him, eyes soft and beautiful, and Alex doesn't know sometimes, what to do with the way Michael makes him feel. He never has. If he was younger, if he was more agile than he is these days, he'd climb over onto Michael's lap and kiss him here in the truck. So instead he reaches over the cowboy hat, and slips his fingers under Michael's, tightening his grip.

"You sure?"

Alex nods.

But Michael's hesitance doesn't end there, and follows him into the house. Alex coaxes him out of his jacket, his boots, and watches as he slowly walks into the living room, glancing around as if unsure of himself. And Michael has been here before, Michael's been here a lot over the years.

"You got rid of the cameras," he says, nodding up where the one above his bedroom door used to be.

The cameras were something he'd installed under the belief that he couldn't trust his father. There had always been that residual fear he would break in and try something to get one up on Alex. So the cameras had made him feel like he was being proactive, like his father couldn't sneak up on him if he had a system in place.

"Yeah, don't need them anymore." He doesn't want to talk about his dad. Not now. It's not that he wants to brush it under the rug and never speak of it, because he knows there are a lot of things they need to talk about. But Liz's words echo in his mind about taking the win today for what it is, and doing that means not focusing on something like his father.

"That's good," Michael says, his voice low, and Alex doesn't move, just stands still as Michael walks over to him, a smile pushing up on his lips. He feels Michael's hands on his face, palms against his cheeks and lets Michael kiss him.

He feels the scratch of Michael's beard and the soft press of his lips and Alex presses forward just a little, his hands moving to Michael's hips, bracing himself. The kiss is slow and gentle, and Alex feels like he's falling. There's no rush in either of their actions, Michael's fingertips lightly scratching at the nape of his neck, their noses bumping, and their foreheads end up pressed together as their lips separate.

"I want-" He pauses, pushing back just far enough so he can look up at Michael. He doesn't want to not be looking at him when he speaks. But he thinks of Michael's reluctance to come inside, and he thinks of the words Michael had once expressed to him about going where Alex wants, and he needs to make sure this is what Michael wants too. "Will you stay the night?"

----------

In the morning, he wakes up tangled up in Michael. There's no panic that sets in, no worry about one of them leaving, even if they haven't talked about the future yet. Because there's time for that now. And Alex knows, believes, they both want one together.

He opens his eyes to find Michael already awake, eyes open and watching him. It should be creepy, but instead all Alex feels is love.

"Morning," Michael says, leaning in and gently kissing his lips.

"Been awake long?"

Michael shakes his head. "I've never watched you sleep before. You always-" He cuts himself off and Alex can fill in the rest himself. He knows this story too.

Last night had been different though, from anything they'd ever done in the past. It felt like a new beginning for them, the way the whole day had. Michael had drawn the bath while Alex had gone through his nightly routine, finally getting the chance to remove his prosthetic. And as Alex had laid back in the tub, letting the hot water soothe his sore muscles, Michael had sat on the floor next to the tub, resting his head on his arm, and they'd just… talked.

Talked in a way they never had before. Alex had listened as Michael had finally told him everything he'd learned from Jones - from the white lies to the discovery of his own origins. He'd been unable to stop himself from taking Michael's hand as he talked about his mother, the way he'd started to doubt his own feelings about her, and the things she had done. Most shocking of all was when Michael asked to show him something, and Alex had just nodded before he was watching as Michael pulled a lighter out of his jeans and held the flame to the skin of his palm.

Instinct had him snatching Michael's hand, pulling it away from the flame - but his skin was perfect. The flame hadn't harmed him.

"I want to make you breakfast," Michael says instead.

Alex laughs, immediately burying his face into Michael's shoulder, because while a great idea, he doesn't exactly keep a fully stocked kitchen. Especially since he's a terrible cook himself, and restocking the fridge after his year spent cleaning up Project Shepherd messes hasn't been a huge priority.

"I'd like that except…" he lets his voice trail off, but leans up and kisses Michael. "I'm not sure there's much in the fridge to cook with."

Michael shakes his head, laughing, and Alex kisses him again, pulling himself up so he's leaning over Michael, his fingers stroking Michael's curls, gently tugging on the ends and watching as they spring back into place.

"Another time then."

Alex leans forward, their lips almost touching as he smiles. Because another time is a future they now have together. It's tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that. "Tomorrow."

"Yeah?"

"I don't want - I meant what I said all those months ago. About starting over. And-" He pauses, thinking about every night he's spent with Michael that ended with one of them leaving, the other never staying. "We've never had breakfast before."

They trade lazy kisses, neither of them able to stop smiling, and it's slow and perfect, and Alex thinks he could stay wrapped up in Michael Guerin forever. But he gets an idea, and it's a good one. And he knows Michael will be okay with it, that Michael will agree to it. Because now he knows Michael feels the same, that Michael wants the same things for them.

"Let's go to the Crashdown," he says against Michael's lips.

Michael pushes back, not away but enough so he's looking at Alex. And there's a flicker of something on his eyes, an old hurt resurfacing that Alex can see. Another thing they need to talk about.

"Like a date?"

Alex rolls his eyes, but kisses Michael again. "Like a date. Like two people having breakfast. I just - I want to do these things with you. I want us to be able to do these things."

"Okay, Manes," Michael replies, pushing up quickly and kissing Alex, like he can't get enough. "Let's go have pancakes."

#roswell new mexico #malex #alex manes #michael guerin #malex fic #notso writes fanfic #ummm have some soft malex this morning #before the episode tonight #because my brain has been nonstop

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obeymeluv · 4 years ago

Text

The Baby Assignment [Lucifer]

I have a list of actual headcanons for demon baby behaviors, but this is not that post.

You and the boys have a baby! (sort of).

You should’ve never told Diavolo about how high schools used to have practice baby classes.

Note: most of the genders and children come from “The Bros as Dads” post.

Cut me some slack on the names. I didn’t really have them planned, haha.

Lucifer:

Extremely skeptical. This whole assignment depends on you two standing in a summoning circle and--in a flash of light there’s a KID in the middle of the floor.

It’s a GIRL!

This triggers his demon form on reflex because he’s startled and can’t help but have flashbacks of Lilith. You’re cooing to the little girl and Lucifer feels breathless as he takes in her hair (it’s his) and those big eyes (they’re yours)

His wings flap a few times before pressing close to his body. This has caught the baby’s attention and she’s staring at him with more intelligence than a child should have.

The professor says the child will grow exponentially over the next week or so and she should be able to deliver a report on how competent you are as parents. Their developmental age will be assessed and factored in as part of the grade.

You walk carefully over to Lucifer, eyes shining and a tiny fist in your hand and oh Diavolo, he wants this child to be real right then and there!

The naming doesn’t happen until you’re back at the House of Lamentation with a massive magical trunk that will spawn child necessities. You sit in his study as the baby looks around and points to things. You name them off.

You’re in the middle of walking her over to look at his records and watching her slap things on the shelf, trying to feel them with her fingers, when he gets the idea to name her after one of the human composers he knows (”Marianna.”)

You honestly thought the addition of a literal child would throw Lucifer off but he’s prepared. It’s only then you realize he’s been alive for thousands of years and helped raise the other six people in the house

Enjoy your view of Lucifer wearing a baby sling for the first three days because unless you have a real kid together, this is the only time you’ll see it

The two of you work on a schedule and carve out time to teach the child on top of your other duties. Sometimes you’re hooked up to the sling, sometimes it’s him. He gets a kick out of seeing you tote the kid around and usually catches you tickling her feet.

Diavolo graciously lightens up on Lucifer’s paperwork load (BY A LOT!) in exchange for seeing the child and playing with them

Most of her facial expressions take after Lucifer’s and Diavolo is BEYOND amused

After day 3, Marianna gets distressed seeing Lucifer sit so long, so she’ll toddle you to Lucifer and just points until you do something about it

100% a daddy’s girl and Lucifer has a hard time keeping his pride in check. It’s coming off of him in waves

She says her first words between day 4 and day 5 and Lucifer wants to cry (he does) because the first one is “daddy”

From day 5 on it’s a constant fight to keep her close because the bros want to smother her for being so cute and are bugging her to say their names

Marianna is partial to Satan and Lucifer is secretly glad. Satan acts all smug about it.

She has Lucifer’s insistency for perfection. Mammon was messing with her tea party set up and she bit him for moving her plate in the wrong spot. That was day 6 and she had her pointy baby demon teeth. Marianna got a little whisper scolding that Mammon would’ve died for BECAUSE SHE GETS KISSES WHILE SHE’S GETTING SCOLDED? FOR REAL?! HE GETS STRUNG UPSIDE DOWN!

Marianna hates being fussed over and likes to dress herself. Whatever you or Lucifer fix, she undoes when your back is turned.

One of her favorite hobbies is sitting on Lucifer’s lap and practicing her handwriting. She also likes to brush his feathers. Marianna asks to sleep in them and will try to hide from you in them. The giggles give her away.

By day 7 she has the intelligence of (at least) a 6 year old and has velvety nubs for horns. You learned that demons like to rub their horns against hard surfaces (or loved ones) as scenting and for their growth.

She accidentally scratches you up, not quite understanding you’re human, and goes into an absolute meltdown. She didn’t mean to hurt you.

Goes into a freaking rage when anyone tries to fix you up. Wants to do it herself. This kid is a literal puddle of apologies, please hold her.

She cuddles you for the rest of that day and officially gets her own little desk beside Lucifer on day 8. Marianna pretends to write her own letters but mostly draws. Bugs Lucifer with the random stuff Satan and Levi teaches her but he doesn’t mind.

You’d bring them snacks every now and then and sometimes you’d hear them singing together (ever so quietly). You didn’t know Lucifer could sing.

Lucifer has woken up with a fist in his face, accidentally been punched in the eye, and has been kicked away at least once since she was big enough to sleep in the bed. She takes after Lucifer in the way that she needs you behind closed doors. Marianna doesn’t sleep unless she can feel both of you next to her.

Lucifer officially has bragging rights about sleeping with you (even if he won’t pull that). Secretly gets the best sleep of his life. Really starting to feel the parent thing. A kid with you would be nice.

Marianna gets little fluffs for wings on day 9 and they “air box” when she’s angry. She demands back scratches for how dry and itchy the feel and you figure out she purrs like Lucifer.

She doesn’t always prank Lucifer but when she does, she hides his pens and makes him play hide and seek with her to get them back

Marianna likes to help out in the kitchen and loves setting the table. She gets mad if anyone messes with the napkin folds you guys practice. She makes a tiny Lucifer screech when Asmo gets obnoxious with taking pictures for Devilgram and Mammon nearly breaks his chair trying to run out of it. She laughs like you.

Around day 10 she insists on a family day and Lucifer has this sinking feeling in his gut that she knows she won’t be around much longer. Maybe it’s a side effect of the spell. The two of you spend the day running around the Devildom taking lots of pictures. Diavolo crashes a few of those pictures.

She spends day 11 burning the midnight oil with Lucifer. Around 9 PM he’s trying to send her to bed. Marianna just drags a blanket back into his study and snuggles down. He notices all her old pictures and some new ones she’s drawn. “It’s my book,” she tells him.

“Your book?”

“Yep.” she colors in the lines carefully, the finished pages pushed away and much better than her older ones. “It’s for you guys, for when I go away. And for your school.”

On day 12 you bring her back into the class, she’s dressed in similar colors to Lucifer. She wanted to look good for her presentation and she said ‘dad always looks nice’.

Marianna talks through her book, calling back memories of building blocks and playing hide and seek. She’s very proud of the pictures from two days ago. They’re her favorite. She shows off her horns and the “dad roar”.

You and Lucifer walk her to the circle. She stands in it as the spell determines her final age. She’s about 10, pushing the limits for growth as determined by the spell.

“I wasn’t here a long time, but I had fun.” she hands him the book and gives you a much longer hug than Lucifer. You wonder if it’s her way of apologizing for having a favorite even though she was good to both of you. “Maybe I’ll see you again sometime.” she looks up at Lucifer as she hugs him, her chin pressed into his stomach.

“Perhaps.” Lucifer takes on his demon form as the circle starts to glow, flapping one wing at her. She “air boxes” back before disappearing in a puff of smoke.

It’s a quiet, lonely silence. Very cold. There’s a subtle warmth in Lucifer’s embrace as he guides you back to your desk. It was brief, but you see why she likes his hugs.

#Obey me!#Obey me! x Reader #Lucifer x Reader

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jamespotterthefirst · 4 years ago

Text

Knowing Me, Knowing You

Book: Open Heart, Book 2

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende)

Words: 1K

Premise: AU where she is dating someone else upon his return from the Amazon.

Author’s Note: Once upon a time, I posted “War of the Roses” where I mentioned a CEO ex of my MC. I said his FC was the glorious Henry Cavill. I spiraled from there. @ashiiknees had the brilliant idea of this AU angst fic. Thank you so much, darling! Also, thank you to @aestheticartsx for pre-reading!

A smile so charming and sharp illuminates his features as he studies her, pinning her like a butterfly with a single look. It is so reminiscent of something familiar, something that once felt like home. Lilac feels her throat tighten.

“You could give me a run for my money at the negotiation table,” Malcolm laughs, his breath brushing her lips moments before his mouth does.

After only a millisecond of hesitation, Lilac kisses him back, the dread in her stomach easing at his touch. The guilt this inspires is almost suffocating. Yet, she kisses him fully, allowing herself to get lost in his scent. When they pull apart, she summons an easy smile.

“Thank you,” she murmurs.

Those steel, grey eyes assess her with such intensity that she almost jerks back in response. Before she can help it, she is tormented by the memory of a different pair—blue, intense, and so piercing that every time they fell on her, she felt bare before him.

Your professional development is too important to jeopardize it with whatever… whatever it is we had.

Had.

The single word still feels like the twist of a knife.

“No thanks necessary,” Malcolm assures her, cupping her chin gently. “I’m really glad we were able to talk. To try and make this work.”

Lilac nods once in acknowledgement, unsure how else to respond. Luckily, she is spared from elaborating further by the everpresent ringing of his phone. Malcolm glances at the screen and sighs heavily.

“Duty calls,” he tells her. “Meet you at my place tonight?”

“See you there.”

With one last kiss, he brings the phone to his ear and moves past Lilac on his way to the exit. Now alone in the tiny hospital break room, she lets out a shuddering breath.

With a tiny wave of determination, she turns to watch him go.

And freezes when her eyes fall on a different figure standing at the door.

Ethan is rooted on the spot, unable to move, as though his stomach sinking like a stone is weighing him down.

“... the numbers of the Tokyo account.”

The tall, suit-clad man doesn’t even glance at Ethan as he rushes past him, too rapt in his phone call to take notice of anything. As soon as he vanishes around the bend of the hallway, Ethan's eyes fall on the lonesome figure in the desolate room.

Lilac stands with her back to him, all but shriveling inward as she hugs her arms around herself. With a steadying breath, she finds composure, becoming the Lilac everyone knows, standing tall and determined.

Then, she turns and her eyes find his.

It's like a torrent, hitting him at full force, threatening to knock him off balance.

The inconsequential noise of the hospital falls away to leave room for a long, almost stifling silence between them. Neither of them makes an effort to look away or move, suspended in that moment, desperately hoping to prolong it as long as they could look at each other.

Ethan’s eyes take her in, feasting on her after two months of starving, so far away from her. For a moment, he thinks he can see the same longing reflected in her eyes. Then, an invisible mask clasps into place and she raises her chin higher with dignity.

“Doctor Ramsey,” she says at last, her voice as cool and collected as her expression.

It stings more than it should.

“This lounge is for employees only,” he says in response. The words are out before he can stop them.

“Understood, Doctor,” she says at once though Ethan can hear the edge of sarcasm in her tone. “I’ll make sure to meet with him elsewhere in the future.”

Something coils in his stomach at the words, bitter and as agonizing as an open wound. Before he can allow himself to react, however, he remembers this is what he wanted when he left for Brazil. He wanted her to move on, even if he knew from the moment he boarded that plane that such an alternative might never be a reality for him.

“Be sure that you do,” he says, keeping his voice even.

To his surprise, Lilac laughs at this, a dark, humorless sound that is uncharacteristic to her.

“Don't pretend you're this concerned about a minor breach in the employee handbook.”

“I don't know what you could be refer—”

“You have no right to pull the jealousy card.”

He says nothing. Even after a year of knowing her, the accuracy with which she could call him out still surprised him. Despite the steel wall he tried to build, she always found her way in, right to the center of his true nature.

“You're right. I don't.”

This seems to infuriate her even more. The color rises to her cheeks, her nostrils flaring as she takes in an uneven breath. Her bottom lip quivers for a brief moment and with a pang, he realizes her anger is her desperate attempt to cover the hurt.

“You left.”

Silence.

The only sound is Ethan's heart pounding furiously at his ears, valiantly trying to keep itself from crumbling to pieces.

“You left without a word goodbye. I had no idea where you had gone until Naveen told me. For two months I wondered if you were okay or if—” her voice trembles slightly. Angry at this betrayal of emotion, she tries again, “—if I had done something wrong.”

“Lilac, you—”

“And then, after crying for nights on end over you, I realized that I was raised to demand better treatment from others. I wasn't going to waste my time waiting for someone who only slept with me twice before he got bored of me.”

Ethan clenches his jaw against the lie, each word as vicious as a lashing.

“I deserve better.”

His throat constricts painfully.

“I deserve Malcolm.”

The worst part is that Ethan can't even disagree with her.

The longest silence yet follows. Neither says anything, though they each look as though they have years worth of words to say to one another. For Ethan, it is summarized in three words. Three words he was too cowardly to admit from the moment he realized he meant them. Three words he was foolish enough to believe he could forget in the Amazon.

Three words that, no matter how constantly and how fiercely he said them, would never be enough. Not anymore.

Lilac looks at him, eyes scanning his face desperately, almost as if she can sense the unsaid.

“This is how things are now, Ethan. Just how you wanted.”

“I never wanted —” he blurts. He stops, thinking instead of the one truth that guided him all those weeks apart from her: “I just want you to be happy.”

“I am.”

Author’s Note: Not me thinking of ways to get them back together. Also, that tiny bit in Lilac’s speech was inspired by AOC saying "I am here because I have to show my parents that I am their daughter — and that they did not raise me to accept abuse from men."

If I write more in this universe, it will be my mission to name them all after ABBA songs. Maybe I should just do that for all of my future works.

Thanks so much for reading!

*Tagging in a reblog*

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #Playchoices #My writing

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sunder-soul · 4 years ago

Note

first of all your work is AMAZING- like damn that smut? 👀 but anyway- i’ve had this concept for awhile imagine that reader was the one who made the design for the dark mark for tom riddle? like y/n is an artist and likes to draw, paint, all that jazz, and she saw the symbol in like her dreams or something and decided to draw it. and then tommy boy sees it and takes a liking to it like, “...i could use that-“ i don’t if this is a weird ask or not but i thought it was interesting. 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

So this has been in my inbox for so long bc I just couldn’t crack how I wanted to tackle it and then yesterday BOOM I had an idea so here I am!! Hope you enjoy 💖

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Consume

Summary: Reader looks into Tom Riddle’s tea leaves on an unlucky day in Divination. Something looks back.

Word count: 1.5k

Content warning: none.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

You’ve heard of the domino effect before, but never has it been so grimly demonstrated to you than in that exact moment standing in front of the entire Divination classroom with the only spare seat left opposite Tom bloody Riddle.

It started (or at least, as far as you can tell) an entire week earlier when you’d walked in on Ophelia Greengrass sobbing in the fourth-floor girl’s bathroom during second period. Up until then you’d not spoken more than half a dozen words to Ophelia across your entire time at Hogwarts, but it had felt wrong not to say anything – and as it turned out, Ophelia had been in dire need of someone saying something to her. She’d been dating Lestrange for a little over three months and by the sounds of it things were not going well.

So of course you’d comforted her as best you could but it was hardly surprising when she tentatively approached again you the next day, and the next, and the next, and then every single day for an entire week there had been a new horror story until yesterday you’d finally had enough and told her that she should break up with him.

That, of course, was why he’d confronted you in the corridor that morning on the way to Charms, angrily accusing you of losing him his girlfriend. And that was why you and Lestrange had been caught by Peeves with a watering can full of Bulbadox juice brandished gleefully in his spindly hands.

Which was how you both ended up in the hospital wing for the entirety of first period, Lestrange with boils all over his face and down his back, and you with them on your hands from where you’d managed to shield yourself.

You’d left Lestrange behind complaining loudly as the matron peeled back his school shirt, sprinting all the way up to the Divination tower at breakneck speed, throwing the trapdoor to the classroom open and scrambling inside, the trapdoor falling shut behind you, the very final domino.

“Sorry I’m late, Professor,” you gasp as you spin around to face her. “Peeves caught me and Lestrange!”

The class snickers.

“That’s quite alright, quite alright…” Cassandra Trelawney says, deep and ringing, “we have not yet started, take a seat with Mr Riddle and we shall begin…”

You freeze. Riddle…?

That’s when it hits you.

Lestrange always sat with Riddle in Divination.

And you’re so late that everyone else already has partners.

You turn to see Tom Riddle sitting at the back of the room looking at you with a polite but blank expression on his face. The class giggles again. The vast majority of Hogwarts students are at least somewhat in love with Riddle – beautiful, intelligent, polite Riddle, orphaned and poor but refined and successful. Better yet he barely speaks to anyone, leaving a lot of empty space of endless possibility for people to fill in with their personal daydreams.

He scares you.

Those horrible boys that hang around him remind you of flies hanging around rotting meat. And if they’re the flies, that makes Riddle…

You grit your teeth and step forward, weaving between the other tables and snickering students to take your seat, dropping your bag to the floor and eyeing the tea set on the small table apprehensively.

“Begin your readings!” Trelawney calls.

You frown and turn to Riddle questioningly. “We’re doing tea leaves?”

“Tasseography,” he corrects smoothly, leaning forward and picking up the burnished copper pot with one hand and pouring steaming tea into the little china cup in front of him.

You blink at him silently. There’s something manufactured about his face that you can’t put your finger on.

“Shall I go first or would you like to?” Riddle asks casually, pouring you a cup, too.

“I don’t mind,” you mumble, looking away.

Riddle sets the pot down and picks up his cup in long, elegant fingers, lifting it to his lips. “The instructions are on page seventy-nine,” he says after taking a sip, looking around the room disinterestedly.

You pull out your book and find the right chapter and scan the first few paragraphs as Riddle finishes his tea, sipping absently at your own, and by the time he finally hands you his cup your heart rate has finally returned to normal from running up eight flights of stairs.

“You have a scattered-type formation,” you say, checking it against the diagram on your page, “and it’s north-west oriented.”

“Mhmm,” Riddle says noncommittedly, his dark eyes level on the parchment before him as he takes notes.

You lean forward over Riddle’s cup and frown as you compare it to the pictures in the book. “That looks like shepherd’s crook,” you say, pointing to a cluster shaped like a pinched hook, “which means… either the responsibility to protect, or the exertion of power and authority over a group of people.”

Riddle scoffs very lightly, his lips curling into a slight smirk as he continues to write.

Something about it had clearly struck a chord with him, but you pointedly train your eyes back on your book. “Oh,” you frown, checking his cup again. “Or it’s the old glyph for seven.”

Riddle stops writing. You look up curiously at the sudden lack of his quill scratching evenly on his parchment to find him perfectly still, his eyes on your face. “Seven?” he repeats, tone distinct.

You nod and push your book around to show him. “The number seven used to be drawn like that, too.”

Riddle’s eyes drop to the page and linger there for a moment before he resumes taking his notes – though his expression is much more preoccupied than before.

But something in Riddle’s cup has caught your eye. Beside the shepherd’s crook/number seven is a lump of tea leaves so distinct in form that it’s almost comical – the round of the cranium, the square of a mandible, and gaps in the leaves to indicate two eye sockets.

“Oh,” you say in surprise, pulling your book back around. “Wow, that’s pretty clearly a…”

You trail off, frowning. You’ve noticed the tea leaves below it, the long twisting trail that leads directly into the skull’s mouth. A cold, creeping feeling is curling in your stomach as something about the image before you seems to move, you can almost see the thing writhing, it almost looks like a…

“How are we going?” Trelawney asks, suddenly right beside you.

You jump, looking up at her in panic. “Fine,” you say quickly.

She lifts her brows, assessing you thoughtfully. “Hmm,” she says, before glancing at Riddle. “And you?”

“Fine,” Riddle echoes smoothly. But he’s not looking at Trelawney.

He’s looking at you.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

The image worms into your thoughts like a deep root, twisting into places you don’t expect to find it and spreading itself out more and more. The dreams are first, and then the nightmares, and finally the night terrors. The skull hovers before you, its pitch, hollow eyes bore into you, the snake coiling endlessly with its fangs yawning wide.

Something about it is cold and evil, some sort of strange perversion of an ouroboros, the eternal snake broken by the skull’s mouth.

Consuming it.

“What is that?”

Your head snaps up from your parchment feeling like you’ve just been jolted awake from a deep sleep, and it takes you a second to process the sight of Tom Riddle before you, his eyes fixed attentively on the parchment strewn on top of the essay you’re supposed to be writing.

He’d caught you drawing it for the hundredth time.

“Nothing,” you say hastily, sliding it away under a book. “Just a doodle.”

Riddle’s eyes flick to yours. There’s a cold rigidity to his expression that you don’t like. It’s a coldness that feels horribly familiar.

For a moment you almost think he’s going to force you to show him, but after a long moment Riddle looks away and he’s gone, disappearing off further into the library. You exhale in relief and pull out the parchment again.

Drawing it made the thoughts go away for a bit, like manifesting the horrible thing distracted it from its need to live in your head. You lift your quill and carefully write a single word next to the skull.

Consume.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

The parchment goes missing the next day.

You never prove that he took it, never even mention it to him, but Riddle’s eyes have a cold glimmer to them when he catches your eye in Divination next, the smallest curl to his lips like he’s daring you to bring it up.

The dreams abruptly stop.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

When you see it next, it’s in a photo on the front page of the Daily Prophet beneath a terrified headline, a spectre hovering just like it had in your nightmares at school years prior. Except this time it’s real. This time it’s above the burning remains of the family home of a prominent Muggle-born politician and Voldemort’s name is a shadow on everyone’s lips.

You stare at it on the page, the snake writhing in ink, the black, hollow eyes of the skull, and you think about Tom Riddle’s cold smile watching you from across the classroom, his manufactured beauty, the boys that hung around him like flies around rotten meat.

He’s named it the Dark Mark.

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barcaavengers · 4 years ago

Text

Weakness || Bucky Barnes Imagine || Pt. 1

Note: I just had to jump in the Bucky Barnes train after watching TFATWS and with Sebastian looking like that it gave me much needed muse to get back into writing. So Here it is! I feel like this is fast paced but I'm already working on the second part. Let's see how this goes. This goes from Episode 3 and transitions to Episode 4 at the end so consider some spoilers? As always, let me know your thoughts and I'm open to ideas!

Disclaimer: Gif not mine.

The idea of going to see Zemo to get any leads wasn't something you were particularly fond of when Bucky decided to go in there by himself. Yes, you trusted the soldier, but it was Zemo who you didn't trust. He was responsible for the break up of the Avengers. If it wouldn't have been for those events you would have all been together to defeat Thanos.

Your combat skills were what gave you the spot in the Avengers. You didn't have a serum, or superpowers, no tech to give you advantage, you were just really good with guns, strategies and tactics, learned to think outside the box.

You know everything is about to go to hell when Bucky takes you and Sam to a warehouse filled with cars and starts talking about breaking Zemo out of jail.

"Do you remember what that man did to all of us? To you? To T'Chaka?" You ask between Bucky and Sam who were looking at each other, that was until the squeak of the warehouse house doors interrupted. The three of you turn to look as a shadow got closer until…

"What the hell?! You said it was hypothetical! What is he doing out, Barnes!?" You snarl and take two quick steps towards Zemo.

"We need him, Y/N!" Bucky blocks your path.

"You are going back to prison!" Sam shouts, Bucky putting his hand on Sam's chest.

"If I may…"

"No!" The three of you shout, looking at Zemo before turning to each other.

"It's the only way! We can't do this alone!" Bucky states. "When Steve refused to sign the Sokovia Accords, you two backed him. You broke the law and stuck your neck out for me… I'm asking you to do it again."

"This is different! It was to protect you from him but now you are asking us to work with his ass after everything?" You question. You would do it in a heart beat because he was asking for it, but the thought of being crossed by someone like Zemo was what had you on edge.

Sam only sighed and you knew, yet again, he would go through with Bucky's plan. "Okay. If we do this, you won't make a move without our permission…" Sam says and your eyes close as you let out a huff.

You are all walking down the bridge once you get escorted to the city of Madripoor, Low Town specifically. "You need to stay in character, no matter what happens" Zemo says.

"The assistant, shouldn't be that hard" you say with a roll of your eyes.

"Anyone would love such role, Y/N. I would prefer if your dislike didn't show when we get there" he says. "It is the only way to explain why we brought a lady along to such dangerous business."

"I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself, but thanks for your concern. That's sweet coming from someone like you" you say and you can spot Zemo smiling from your spot behind him.

"You okay?" Bucky asks once he falls behind you, looking at the surroundings and taking everything in.

"I'm not thrilled about this, but I guess we have no choice" you say as you look around, then your eyes fall on his frame. "What about you?"

"I don't know anymore…" he says before you all get inside the club.

Everyone fell silent when Bucky walked in, watching him, wondering if it really was the Winter Soldier. You have never been in the same space with Bucky in public, so the whispers and the looks had you feeling a kind of way, almost defensive, but you had to keep your role and give smiles to strangers while you walked with Zemo with your arms linked. You look around the place, leaning against the counter, hiding back a smirk as Sam drinks whatever the hell they just put in on his 'usual' drink.

"Zemo might not be welcomed here, but his assistant can stay as long as she wants" a man says into your ear and you are quick to move away.

"Excuse me?" You eye the man on your side.

"What's your name pretty face? I can get you a better job than being an assistant" the man reaches to push your hair away from your face, letting his hand linger on your shoulder and your body tenses. Sam meets your eyes and slowly shakes his head, knowing you were about to break character and beat the hell out of this man. Zemo noticed, but kept a neutral expression.

"If he doesn't take his hand off you…" You hear Bucky murmur under his breath. You gesture with your hand at him carefully to not give anything up, just raising two fingers towards him.

"Who says I want a better job?" You smirk and reach for your drink, sipping on it on one go.

Zemo turns to look at Bucky, and you have heard the words Winter Soldier in Romanian enough times to know them, so when Zemo speaks them and Bucky nods, your heart stops. He is swift in his moves and in a blur he is gripping and twisting the hand of the man that was bothering you. He looks back at you as he shoves the man away, your eyes meet for a moment before it all starts. Men from left and right start throwing themselves to him, like if they stood a chance against the Winter Soldier. Seeing him like this sent chills down your spine. Quick, agile, ruthless. His moves were so calculated, so life ending. The Winter Soldier might be gone but his skills and moves were there alright, you only hoped it was just that.

"It didn't take much for him to fall back into form" Zemo says on your side almost as if he read your thoughts.

"Make it stop, Zemo or I swear I'll jump in the fight…" you snarl.

"Stay in character or the whole place will be upon us" Zemo says and you let out a huff. "Your soldier will be fine. It's all part of the show…"

"He is not my soldier…" your eyes couldn't get away from Bucky, who now had a man pinned on the table and that's when you hear the clicking of a gun.

Things take a bad turn real quick. Sam got caught in his character thanks to a phone call. Selby got killed and now there was a bounty for her killers who were apparently the four of you, then Sharon saved your assess and took you to her place. You were getting ready for the party, something comfortable to fight should it be needed. Bucky leans against the bathroom frame while you curl your hair, "You know that will go away soon though, right? When you pick on the next fight."

"If it lasts me two minutes it would be worth it" you say with a smirk as you look at him through the mirror, placing the iron on the counter you turn to look at him, he offers you a weak smile. "Well you look handsome" you say as you eye him. The black suit looked so good on him, and it just made his blue eyes stand out.

"You look... beautiful" he blinks as he eyes you, his hands falling into his pockets.

"Well thank you" your cheeks flush. After a few seconds, your gaze softens when you feel he is...off. "Are you okay, Buck? I know that what you did back there..." you trail off.

"I'm fine. Its just… I'm still processing..." he shrugs.

"You shouldn't have gone through with the plan. We could've found another way…"

"We didn't have time to find another way. Zemo knew that way would give us the information we needed" he says.

"I still don't like that he is using you like this..." you say with a frown.

He remains silent for a moment, wetting his lips before speaking. "Y/N, I know we-"

"You two done?" Sam interrupts and James takes an annoyed intake of breath, your gaze drops.

"Yeah" James walks away without a look back and you chew on your lower lip.

"Did I interrupt something?" Sam says with a smug smile.

"Get out" You walk out of the bathroom and Sam throws his arm around you, laughing.

"You two were having a moment there, weren't you?" Sam teases as you walk, poking on your shoulder. "Listen, you gotta do this smoothly. He is all rusty. He hasn't had a date in like 70 years."

"He probably wants to be by himself to finish that notebook, and right now nothing can distract us" you frown.

"You distract each other already" Sam says between laughs. "One of you will be in danger and the other will run and save the other."

"That's what I mean. Zemo said it earlier, the Winter Soldier has a reputation. If he has to keep playing the part, I'll be trying to stop him even more than I already do. I can't blow off the mission because of whatever this is..."

"Alright, you got a point, but talk to him, alright? If you want, take him out of the party and work it out" Sam pats your back as you walk out to the living room area.

"Looking sharp, Y/N" Sharon says with a grin once you come out and you twirl with a laugh. "Enjoy the party. Stay out of trouble, I'll see what I can find."

"Shall we then?" Zemo asks, holding his arm out to you.

"Let's go" you link your arm with his, just to play along. After this time with Zemo you figured out you might as well enjoy yourself, there was still a long way ahead before getting rid of him again. He didn't seem so bad since he broke out, you still didn't trust him though.

Once at the party, you stick around with Zemo. Sam and Bucky are somewhere around the lounge surveying the place, you all still had a bounty on your heads anyway. Meanwhile you are with Zemo, who was making some moves that had you giggling and laughing. He took your hand and started going around you before letting go and you grin. "Should've known you were this fun I would've helped breaking you out" you tease over the music.

"Didn't had a chance" Zemo says and smiles as he claps while letting the music move him. He eyes something behind you before looking back at you. "Your soldier can't seem to stop looking at you" you want to turn around, but you decided against it.

"He is not my soldier…" you say. "He is just watching out for us. We have prices on our heads remember?" You tap your head as you say the words. "And you have him acting as our bodyguard."

"I know your hatred was fueled when I had him act in such way, and I do apologize for such plan but it was the only way" he says. "You would know if you understood how things realistically move" he says.

"Apology accepted" you say. Zemo takes your hand and twirls you, and you catch a glimpse of Bucky walking towards the two of you.

"I believe we have company" Zemo says into your ear. "You know where to find me" he says and walks out and into the crowd with his own, awkward dancing pace. You giggle at it before turning around and finding Bucky close.

His shoulders were tense under that black suit that made him look so good, and his scowl was too obvious. "Having fun with Zemo?" He asks, everyone around you was moving to the music, except him who only looked to where Zemo had disappeared to, his tongue poking in annoyance at his cheek.

"Just wanted to get to know him a bit more. Is not an everyday thing we hang with a Most Wanted prisoner" you say with a shrug. "Who you broke out of jail may I add."

"I didn't do anything" he says and his gaze averts from yours.

"For being one hundred and six you are an awful liar, Buck" you smirk, but he doesn't say anything. His hands are tucked in his pockets, eyeing everything but you. "Relax. Enjoy the music."

"This isn't my type of music" he says coldly and looks around the place once again.

"Fine…" you stop on your moves. Might as well take Sam's suggestion, plus you could see this scenario and the music was too much for him. "Come on, let's go back upstairs and talk" you hold your hand out for him and he looks at it, he hesitates before his glove covered hand wraps around yours and you lead the way.

"I told you, I'll be fine" he sighs as he sits down on the couch, you sit right beside him.

"Bullshit, Barnes" you say as you drop down. "When you were fighting those people…"

"It was just an act…I'm not a killer anymore..."

"I know, Buck" you reach to put your hand on his knee, which he eyes before looking at you. "But you didn't go to therapy to get over this only to be pulled again for a show. This isn't right."

"I'm okay, I promise…" he trails off. "I'm just getting used to all of this" his hand covers yours, sending electricity through your nerves.

"I promised Steve I would look out for you to not do anything stupid," you smile at him "I am not a super soldier or have any powers, but if I can help. I will do what I can…" you admit to him. His blue eyes look into yours and your heart stops it's beating for a second.

You hold his gaze and shift your position on the couch, your leg was already falling asleep since it was under you. "I-" he pauses and you can see his mind wondering, thinking, calculating. Sam was right, you could almost see the gears turning.

"Talk to me. I know you have something to say" you smirk.

"I guess that what I'm trying to say is, I am glad that you are with me in this mission even after everything-"

"Don't. Please…" you were sure he was going to bring up that one time where Sam, Steve and Natasha, as well as yourself, were attacked by him while trying to get a hold of Hydra. It was the first time you had seen him, you didn't know him, but you feared him. You are a mere human and he is a super soldier, the most dangerous soldier for the past years. He had tried to kill you back then one way or another, guns, knives, grenades, but somehow you survived.

Then you met him when Cap and Sam went after him, seeing him act like a normal person triggered something in you. How could someone like him turn into someone so dangerous? The time you spent watching after him, and fighting alongside the team had warmed your heart towards him to the point you admitted to yourself you caught feelings for him. How could you not? You were the only person to go to Wakanda to see him after he was freed, and it will be an understatement that you cried your eyes out when he told you the words. That was when the two of you started having a connection.

"You okay?" His voice echoes and you realize you had zoned out.

"Yeah. Sorry I was just thinking of…" he eyes you curiously, those steel blue eyes had you going weak. You inch closer and you feel him move, his head siding in a way that all you had to do was… "I'm so sorry for this, Buck-"

"What are you apolog-" and your lips muffle his words when you press them against his. You hated this. Losing your control the second you are alone with him. This wasn't right, but it felt unbelievably nice. His lips don't move, so to save yourself more embarrassment you pull away and duck your head to avoid his gaze, hoping that your hair is covering the redness of your cheeks.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that…" you pull your hand away from under his, daring to look up at him. "We should go back to the-"

This time, he interrupts you. His flesh hand moving in a blur to the back of your head to bring you in for another kiss. His lips were rough on yours even when they parted slowly, but what did you expect? For him to be the womanizer Steve once told you he was? That now that he was free he would be kissing any girl? You let out a sigh of relief through your nostrils before pulling away.

"Did I do something wrong?" His eyes were soft with worry as he tried to meet yours.

"No. Gosh no" you bite your lip. "Don't apologize...I just lost myself there…" you giggle and he smiles weakly. You move forward again but stop, looking into his hues for approval before you lean in again slowly and his lips capture yours. He dares to part his lips and you tilt your head slightly, so does his, deepening the kiss only slightly.

"Y/N? Are you- Sweet Jesus!" Sam voices echoes through your ears and Bucky quickly pushes you away lightly, but enough to have you away from him.

"Sam. I-" You try to explain.

"Nuh-uh. I saw enough to know what was going on."

"Any leads?" Bucky asks, trying to divert the attention, standing up now.

"Sharon found him" Sam says. "Let's go, and no PDA while I'm around, okay?"

"When all of this is over-" Bucky starts as you two walk down the containers, Sam, Sharon and Zemo a few feet ahead.

"I shouldn't have done that" you insist. "My timing was off.."

"You make it sound like it was wrong when it wasn't" he pulls out his gun and so do you.

"It was" you nod your head as you walk. He reaches for your hand, looks at the group in front of you before he pulls you to the side behind a container, your body between the two.

"I have wanted what happened more than you know" he is soft in his words and his eyes divert to your lips for a moment. "I just...I have a past, Y/N..."

"A past you are free from now, Bucky" you point out. "You are not The Winter Soldier anymore. You have grown from that ever since Wakanda…" you assure him. "I'm not even asking you to accept it to start something because I know its way too soon-"

"You don't understand" he slowly backs away from you.

"You don't trust yourself entirely yet, do you?" His eyes avoiding your gaze made you frown. "I knew that this would have consequences. I'm going to talk to Zemo."

"Y/N, wait" he catches your arm as you turn and he brings you close. "We can't trust Zemo. You know that…" he says. "I am not sure how to explain it, but-"

That's when it hit you. "You don't want him to know we are each other's weakness…" you voice and his head nods slowly as he swallows.

"That's why we need to sort this out, but later, not during this…"

"Y/N?" Sam calls out and you frown.

"On it!" You whisper shout back.

"Be careful. I'll go in with Sam…You stay with Sharon…" he says and your head nods.

*****

"Walker I swear if you don't shut up I'll make you swallow that shield" your arms were crossed, leaning against the wall behind Bucky who was guarding the stairs. Zemo was cuffed, Sam was inside talking with Karli, Walker and Hoskins had found their way to you and now were here.

"Easy there. I'm just worried about your partner being in there by himself" he says and you notice the glare the Sargeant gives him.

"You have been messing this whole operation the moment you got here" you spat.

"Aren't you worried about Sam back there?"

"He can handle himself. He is doing what is right, unlike others" you eye him up and down and his whole face darkens, taking a step forward and you take a defiant one as well.

"Think carefully what you will do next, Walker" Bucky puts his hand on his chest.

"Let him. I can kick his ass and take that shield off his hands in a heartbeat…" you hiss.

"This is all easy for you, isn't it? All that serum rushin' through your veins. You let your partner in there with a Super Soldier, that blood will be on your hands if things get dirty in there…" Walker says to Bucky. How dare he!?

For a moment, you ponder on his words and you can't stand the thought of Sam being in there getting beaten by Super Soldiers while Walker could be right. You didn't want him to be. What if they took him? What if…?

"Buck…" you put your hand on his bicep and he looks at you, knowing very well what you wanted to do.

Of course, Walker wasn't very good with entrances since he literally waltzed in calling Karli and saying she was under arrest. Super Soldiers showed up everywhere and your eyes widened. Karli pushes Walker and then storms off running.

"Karli!" You call and look at Sam.

"Go! We got this!"

Your head nods, eyes shift to look at Bucky who was fighting a Super Soldier off before you storm to the direction Karli headed to. You see her walking down the corridor, not too far from you. "Karli, wait! This is not what it looks like!" Karli says and she stops in her tracks, looking back at you.

"It is exactly what it looks like! You are working for Captain America!"

"What? No! We hate the guy!" You admit bluntly, honesty can get you places after all, and at least she stopped. "We just want to work this out. There has to be a better way to fight for what you want, Karli…" you say and get closer.

"Yeah. There is...But first, you will help us deliver a message before we trust you again" your head tilts to the side curiously when you feel arms around you and you feel a pinch on your neck. Your eyelids feel heavy all of a sudden until you can't hold them open any longer.

-Bucky's POV-

After fighting some of the Flag Smashers off he meets with Sam, Walker and Hoskins in the middle of the building.

"We lost them" Hoskins says as he looked around.

"You made us loose them! I had everything under control until you stepped in!" Sam complained.

"Where is Y/N?" Bucky asks as he looks around.

"She went after Karli. I haven't seen her since..." Sam says, his phone goes off and Bucky is quick to move close to him as he opens the message. "They got Y/N…" Sam's brown eyes shift to look at Bucky who was clenching his jaw yet his eyes showed how worried he was, and mad for letting you go after Karli alone.

"That's it." Bucky turns on his heels and started walking the other direction.

"Bucky!" Sam calls but it didn't get the man's attention. "Bucky!"

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #reader #james buchanan barnes imagine #marvel imagine #marvel #tfatws #(weakness)#(mine)#tfatws imagine #title might change later #avengers imagine #avengers #james barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagines

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uswntxfootball · 4 years ago

Text

i get a little bit stressed out (when i think about you) (jill roord x arsenal!reader)

how were you supposed to ask her out when just thinking about her made you nervous?

word count: 3342 ish

rated: F for flirtation sugar daddy

title- nervous by shawn mendes

——

your eyes followed her even when you didn’t mean for them to.

there was just something about the way she carried herself… you really just couldn’t get enough of it and-

“hello? y/n?”

you really really really had it bad. it really didn’t help that she was talking adamantly about something to viv, the other dutch forward having a relatively hard time keeping up with the taller girl.

its only when daan claps in your face that you turn and look at her.

“sorry what?”

daan face palms before saying:

“you know if you stare any harder you’re going to strain your eyes.”

you blush a little.

“i’m not staring….i’m-”

daan’s pointed look shuts you up.

you blush harder and look down at your cleats, adamantly avoiding the midfielder’s gaze.

her tone softens a little when she sees you.

“you really should just ask her out y/n. its been like two years.”

you scoff a little.

“it has not been two years what are you-“

daan cuts you off with a matter-of-fact tone:

“she joined the team in 2019 buddy.”

“yeah but that doesn’t mea-“

“and exactly how many words have you exchanged with her?”

you think before saying with an air of false confidence:

“like a lo-“

“not counting on the field.”

you sigh and hang your head in defeat before whispering:

“like two.”

the dutch midfielder hums and asks again:

“mhmm now what was that?”

you roll your eyes and say it a little louder, still with that air of defeat:

“like two words.”

daan patted your shoulder encouragingly before the whistle blew, indicating the end of break, and training picked up once again.

jill was talking about you during the break, actually.

to viv across the field from you.

the dutch forward had slowly realized that you were different around her, that you didn’t speak as much, and actually that you avoided her at all costs.

this she found out because there were instances, such as during team dinners, where if there was an open seat next to her, you didn’t take it, opting to stand or sit on the floor as far away from her as possible.

or that whenever she sat down next to you you shot up out of your seat almost instantly.

or that when you saw her coming down the hall you immediately turned and walked the way you came from.

or- you get the point.

she couldn’t tell if you hated her, because frankly that’s what it looked like.

so that’s what she was speaking to viv about.

and to lisa about.

and really anyone who would really listen.

of course, everyone knew your predicament, as you weren’t exactly subtle in your staring and stuttering.

they all assured jill that you didn’t hate her, that maybe you were just shy, something jill had a hard time believing since she watched you hold confident eye contact and conversations with literally everyone else but her.

if you were someone else maybe she would care less.

but you weren’t.

see, this is only how you acted off the field.

but on the field, you were a completely different person.

you had a confident, almost authoritative tone when you spoke, one that made everyone stop and listen, and was something that ultimately landed you the role of captain for every team you’ve ever played for, with arsenal being no exception.

you spoke to her that way too, and it was really the only time you made eye contact with her and spoke to her.

granted it was more like you giving orders and directions, but same difference really.

it was also something jill found really really hot.

so safe to say she cared about what you thought of her.

jill eventually decided that if you weren’t going to talk to her first, she’d do it instead.

and so began her quest, getting y/n y/ln to talk to her and hopefully become her friend.

you noticed the change in jill immediately.

it seemed as though the dutch forward was tailing you every chance she got.

every corner you took she seemed to appear right in front of you, every time you glanced at her it seemed as if her eyes were already on you.

it got so bad that you tried even harder to avoid her.

for instance,

one day before training you were out on the pitch shooting from midfield and muttering game analysis under your breath when you heard a familiar, heavy dutch accent making its way through the halls.

you panicked and-

daan found you ten minutes later inside a trashcan.

needless to say you had a pretty hard time trying to explain the smell and stains on your jersey to joe later that day.

in your defense because the field was so empty, that was the only plausible option in your mind.

as time went on, it really didn’t get any better.

there was another day during training where you turned to catch a glimpse of jill only to see her eyes already on you, and you turned back so abruptly that you knocked down the entire weight rack in front of you.

jill giggled, and the rest of your teammates were rolling their eyes and collectively face palming at your stupidity.

it all came to a climax when you were on the bus to your first match of the year, and jill plopped down in the seat right by you.

your eyes widened and cheeks flushed immediately, and you trained your eyes on the seat in front of you, not daring to turn and look at the girl beside you.

“hey how are you?”

you gulped and slowly looked up at her, and you cursed internally.

she was just so unfairly attractive.

the slightly shy smile and arched eyebrow was a combination you swear only she could pull off and-

“i’m doing okay, how are you?” you managed to force out.

at least you didn’t stutter.

jill gave you a lopsided smile that made your heart skip a beat, and went on talking.

she knew you weren’t much of a talker around her, and subsequently filled up all the gaps with her rambling, something that you both appreciated and hated, as it really didn’t help the queasy feeling in your stomach.

when the bus pulled to a halt you felt like you were going to puke, and shot up out of your seat wanting to run off before you freak out, only to remember that you were in the inside seat.

jill moved slightly without hesitation, something you were more than thankful for.

she whispers a little dejectedly when you get off:

“are you sure she doesn’t hate me?”

lisa gives her a sympathetic look and smile.

“she doesn’t jill.”

“but she just-“

“trust us, she doesn’t.”

jill nods a little apprehensively, and gets up and grabs her stuff, making her way off the bus along with everyone else.

during the game, jill was so distracted that she almost ran in the wrong direction.

“jill! press! now go!”

you were yelling at her from midfield, glancing all over the place as you watched every player’s movement and stance.

jill almost stumbled upon hearing your voice.

you note that she’s acting weirdly, and bring it up during a quick break while the ref is assessing a potential foul.

you catch her arm when she walks by you, an action that catches her entirely by surprise.

“hey you alright? your head is all over the place.”

jill swallows a little bit before smiling weakly and replying:

“yeah yeah i’ll be okay.”

“alright well get your head in it, you’re really talented and we really need you right now.”

you give her arm a reassuring squeeze and move to take the free kick which had just been given.

jill still stood there a little dumbfounded, its only when you snap loudly and point in the direction of the box that she remembers there’s a game going on and moves into position.

all in all, arsenal wins with an emphatic victory of 5-1.

after your duties as captain were fulfilled and you gave your post game talk, you quickly fell back into your off field self.

now why was the previous bus interaction the climax?

simply put, it had been the last straw for a lot of your teammates, who were now fed up with your idiotic gay panic, and decided to do something about it.

you should’ve known something was weird when you get a text from viv reading:

“URGENT- team meeting in 15 min at me & lisa’s apartment”

you furrowed your brows in confusion.

you were the team captain and the one who called team meetings, so what was up?

also it was saturday night, couldn’t it wait?

you texted kim, the vice captain, and pretty much the only responsible adult on the team, to double check.

she replied with:

“yes- joe told us about it.”

you furrow your eyebrows again because you took your job of captain seriously and you honestly didn’t remember joe mentioning an impromptu meeting on saturday night at viv’s house.

but you made your way there just in case anyways.

when you make your way inside you glance suspiciously around the apartment and only get more confused when you see less than half the team there.

the only people there besides viv and lisa were daan and beth, caitlin and lia, leah and jordan, and katie.

by this point you should’ve known.

you open your mouth to speak but you’re cut off when daan shoves you down into a chair.

“sit.”

you shoot back up and fight her back a little bit before asking:

“guys guys guys what is going on?”

leah calmly looked at you and said:

“sit down and we’ll tell you.”

and so you begrudgingly take a seat.

lisa starts.

“alright so collectively as a group, we decided that watching you deal with jill is making us all lose brain cells.”

the group in front of you nods adamantly in agreement.

“and so we’re here to help you. to teach you how to flirt.”

you cross your arms and snort a little.

“and how are you going to do that exactly?”

“well-“

beth piped in here.

“we’re going to employ katie and have her flirt with you and teach you for the next week or so.”

you shake your head.

“katie? no i would rather go on my own thank you very-“

katie cuts in here with an offended look.

“what do you mean no?! i’m obviously the best here and-“

the room quickly broke into a loud cacophony of sound, as they began debating about katie’s comment.

its only when lisa yells for silence that everyone quiets again.

“wait how many people are in on this?” you ask suddenly.

“the whole team with the exception of jill,” leah replies offhandedly.

your eyes nearly bugged out of your head when you heard this.

“is it really that bad?”

lia snorts.

“can birds fly?”

you let out a sigh.

“fine.”

you turn to katie and very adamantly say:

“but don’t you dare make it weird.”

katie holds her hands up in surrender.

and so it began, your “training” as they called it.

katie, surprisingly was pretty good at what she did.

she did unfortunately call herself your flirtation sugar daddy, but that really made you uncomfortable so you avoided those terms at all costs.

so day after day, katie stuck by you and flirted with you 24/7, with occasional performance evaluations from lisa and caitlin, all who approved thus far.

on the downside, jill, who had been kept out of the loop from everything, saw this as you being interested in katie.

she wanted to tell you that katie had a girlfriend, but didn’t really know how to start that conversation without making it weird.

she couldn’t just go up to you and say, “hey i’ve been watching you flirt with katie for the last few days and just so you know she’s taken.”

so she just stood by and watched.

she did ask viv about it one day though.

“does y/n know katie has a girlfriend?”

to which viv replied:

“yup.”

“so why is she flirting with her?”

“its just for fun.”

“it doesn’t look like its for fun to me.”

viv turns and looks at her dutch teammate.

“are you jealous?”

jill almost sputters out her answer.

“wh-what no of course not! why would i be jealous?!”

viv turns to hide her smile.

“sure jill. whatever you say.”

two weeks went by, and katie was delighted by your performance.

next saturday, the ten of you met up at viv and lisa’s apartment again.

“alright so you might be asking why we’ve gathered you here today!” lisa proclaimed with a very poor attempt at victorian english.

“we’re gathered here today to-“

“oh just get on with it,” viv butts in.

lisa turns to her with a glare.

“all right all right,” viv relents.

“we’re going to assess y/n’s flirtation capabilities.”

you quirk an eyebrow.

“how are you going to do that exactly?”

“ooh we didn’t actually think that far. we’re going to ask you questions?”

“what like ask me to finish the line? like ooh girl are you from tennesse cuz you’re the only ten i see?”

lia cringes a little at that line.

“what ever you do, don’t say that.”

“mhm yeah wasn’t going t-.”

leah cuts in.

“alright the point is. just be yourself y/n. you exude confidence on the field so just bring it out when you talk to her. that’s all”

the others all nod in agreement.

“that’s it really. you can do it y/n, we all believe in you.”

“thanks guys i really appreciate it.”

“wait but i can still be your flirtation sugar da-ow! you didn’t have to all hit me!”

the next day at training you were shoved and funneled in jill’s direction by almost half the team.

a particularly hard shove from daan had you slamming directly into jill.

the dutch forward turned and grabbed your waist in lightning fast speed to steady you.

your arms immediately fell to rest on hers, and you took a shallow breath in when you saw her concerned look.

“are you alright?”

“yeah i am thanks to you…”

well here goes nothing.

“…though i have to say if this is what it takes to get you to hold me i’ll gladly fall for you again.”

jill’s face was worth the burning on your cheeks.

“w-what?”

you had to admit, jill’s stutter only made her cuter.

you just gave her a wink and reluctantly pulled her arms off you.

“come on jill, we have a training session to get to.”

you gave her a final wave before you made your way out of the locker room.

jill still stood there, shocked and a little confused.

viv rolled her eyes.

“come on jill.”

and when jill didn’t move, viv just grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the room.

later during training almost the exact same thing happens.

except this time it was more jill’s fault than yours.

she wasn’t watching where she was going and ran right into you.

your hands found their way immediately on her waist.

“is this how we’re going to meet and talk from now on?”

jill blushed and mumbled a “sorry.”

you grinned.

“don’t be, i’m kind of enjoying it, though…”

you stopped to fake pondering something.

“…i don’t know what we should do now that we’ve both fallen for each other.”

you finished your sentence with another wink, essentially rendering jill speechless.

and so, this became a trend.

you would flirt with jill, and the dutch girl would essentially just freeze up and stare at you in shock.

you thought it was cute.

jill thought it was mortifying.

she complained to viv later on.

“i can’t even flirt back what is happening to me?”

viv just gave her a reassuring pat on the back.

“that’s what we call gay panic my friend.”

jill groaned and buried her face further into her hands.

“what’s a pretty lady like you doing all by yourself?”

you ask, plopping down in the empty bus seat beside her.

jill blushes and looks down at the seat in front of her.

she could barely see your playful grin out of the corner of her eye and it was enough to kick the butterflies in her stomach to a higher gear.

you had a little deja vu during the bus ride, except that in the previous predicament the roles were switched.

jill somehow managed to hold it together for the remainder of the bus ride.

it was on the pitch when jill really couldn’t take it anymore.

you didn’t even do anything, except fulfill your captain duties.

you were standing on the sideline, watching a scrimmage between lia’s team and kim’s team.

joe had asked you to sit out and assess every player’s strengths and basically coach them.

and coach them you did.

“caitlin! daan’s open on your left! and malin! cover daan better so she’s not wide open!”

you looked down to scribble notes in your note pad, and when you looked up you saw jill staring at you on the field.

“jill! focus!”

her gaze snapped back onto the game.

before the second round, you gave a bunch of pointers to both teams.

“okay so you guys are doing pretty well, just make sure to keep up your back line, don’t make it sloppy.”

and to the other:

“alright so pass accuracy is something you need to work on, because half of your passes are being intercepted at the moment which probably isn’t something you want.”

after a few minutes the teams took their places back onto the pitch and you began scribbling down a few more notes.

a pair of cleats makes their way before you, and you look up.

“what’s wr-“

jill leans down and kisses you.

you drop your notepad in surprise.

she pulls back quickly and searches your face for any sign of disgust or repulsion, and finding none, she leans in again.

this time, you met her halfway.

it was electric and a little needy, really everything you wanted a first kiss to be.

you briefly heard the cheers and clapping of your teammates, too caught up in the moment to care about anything else.

jill’s hands fell to your waist and yours rested on her cheeks.

you pulled back after what seemed like an eternity, but in reality was only a couple of seconds.

“so i guess i don’t have to fall for you to hold me like that again,” you whisper.

jill giggles.

“definitely not.”

you’re silent for a few seconds, but jill beats you and breaks it first.

“you know, i thought you liked katie.”

your eyes widen in surprise, and your face quickly contorts into disgust.

“oh god no way.”

“oh that’s good.”

you ask her a little teasingly:

“why, were you jealous?”

jill scoffs a little.

“shut up.”

you arch your brow a little in challenge.

“make me then.”

jill’s eyes flash back onto your face dangerously but before she can do anything you give her a little shove back.

“now go back to your scrimmage, we’ve had them wait long enough.”

she rolls her eyes and turns back towards the pitch, and towards a hoard of your giddy teammates.

“flirtation sugar daddy for the wi-ow!”

your perfectly struck ball hits katie square in the chest and your glare cuts eliminates any objections.

still you hear her mutter:

“still if anyone needs any help with flirting i’ll be free to-“

“katie!”

“sorry sorry i’ll stop.”

#jill roord #jill roord x reader #jill roord imagine #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal wfc imagine #nedwnt x reader #nedwnt imagine #uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader #woso imagines #woso imagine

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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years ago

Text

t-shirt

Day 8, Story #1 is by @accio-broom

Title: t-shirt Author/Artist: accio-broom Pairing: Ron Weasley / Hermione Granger Prompt: Cuddling Rating: T Trigger Warning(s) (if any): None

In the morning when you wake up, I like to believe you are thinking of me And when the sun comes through your window, I like to believe you’ve been dreaming of me.

Hermione Granger isn’t the kind of girl who struggles to get out of bed, especially when there are pressing Head Girl duties to attend to. Her to-do list is as long as her arm, she has five essays to write and a whole raft of other bits and bobs she needs to see to.

But right now, with the sun peeking through the edges of the heavy curtains surrounding her four-poster bed, she wants to bask in the aftermath of her dream just a little longer. Even as her dorm mates start to clatter around the room, getting ready for the day, she snuggles deeper under her duvet and shuts her eyes, trying her best to get back to her own little world.

Is Ron doing exactly the same thing right now? He loves his bed, and always complains when she forces him out of it earlier than he wants. Is he having the same lovely dreams as her? Probably not, he’s been away on an extremely secretive training mission for the past five days, and he isn’t a fan of sleeping on the floor. Still, she likes to think that even the memory of her has been keeping him warm at night, even if he isn’t comfortable wherever he is.

Dreaming.

Her dreams last night were amazing.

They were in the Gryffindor common room, sprawled across the comfiest sofa next to the fire. He’d untucked her blouse, and one of his hands was under the white material, massaging her bra-clad breasts whilst he buried the other somewhere underneath her school skirt. He was only wearing his plaid pyjama bottoms, which were doing nothing to hide his growing excitement, and the faded orange Cannon’s t-shirt he often wore to sleep.

She loves that top. It’s threadbare and far too small for him, accentuating his muscles, and exposing patches of his skin. She likes to wind her fingers through the holes, count the freckles she can see as they explore each other’s bodies. Dream Hermione couldn’t get enough of Ron’s skin; she licked and sucked at his neck while her hips lifted to press against his, grounding into his erection and causing the delightful friction she can never get enough of.

Despite their public position, there had been no panicking about being caught or interrupted. She was consumed in Ron, and he in her. The most perfect dream.

But it was all a dream. Hermione is still at school and Ron is in the Auror Academy, and they are facing months of separation. If he does well in his mission, he’ll pass his assessments and move on to the next stage. There will be no passionate make-out sessions, heavy petting, or sex anywhere until her Easter holidays at the earliest, and it definitely won’t be happening at school.

I know, ‘cause I’d spend half this morning, thinking about the t-shirt you sleep in I should know, ‘cause I’d spend all the whole day, listening to your message I’m keeping.

With a heavy huff, she rolls onto her back and reaches under the mattress for the pristine parchment she has hidden there.

Over the years she’s known Ron, she could safely say that he was rubbish at writing to her. Summer breaks and Christmas holidays passed without a single word from him. But their newly fledged relationship, combined with her leaving in September, seemed to inspire a completely different side to the boy. If he was at home, she could now expect Pidwidgeon almost every morning, and each letter the owl delivered was soppier and longer than the last.

It is clear that Ron misses her.

She finds her wand under her pillow and pulls it out, tapping it against the paper before discarding it again. It begins to unfold, revealing a whole pile of messages from her beau, Ron’s familiar unintelligible scrawl decorating every inch of them. If she hadn’t spent the last six years deciphering his essays, she might have struggled to read them, but now she devours every word, the familiarity somewhat easing her home-sickness.

In his first letter he reminds her that she has to keep these letters secret, to hide them safely away from prying eyes. Ron doesn’t want anyone getting their hands on them, a panic magnified by the fact that Hermione is sharing a dorm with Ginny this year.

“Just imagine what they’d say,” Ron writes, and Hermione can picture the tips of his ears turning bright pink as his quill scratches against the parchment. “I don’t want them to take the piss.”

She’d written back, assuring him that his letters were safe and that he shouldn’t be ashamed of his ability to express his feelings. It’s the sign of a mature man.

Plus, she finds the confidence in his words sexy.

Letting her fingers trail over the paper, Hermione allows herself to get lost in the things he tells her. There’s the boring, mundane things, like how work is going and pleading with her not to get riled up over her latest marks (which ended up being perfect, of course). Next, come the promises and their plans for life post-Hogwarts. They want to get a flat together and go on a lovely holiday, where they can be alone for a whole week. Each sentence makes the smile on her face grow even bigger.

She takes her time, savouring how close to Ron they make her feel. She misses him like crazy. When she packed her trunk last September, she couldn’t even imagine how hard being apart from him would be. She’s an independent woman, a war heroine, in fact, but the yearning and pining for the guy drove her mental on occasion. She hates that she’s so reliant on him now.

Still, there are only a few more months left of her school year, and then they’ll be together forever.

The words run out, and Hermione lets out a heavy sigh. She sits up, tapping the paper again with her wand before stowing it safely back in its hiding spot. Feeling ready to face the day, she swings her legs out of bed and throws back her curtains, catching Ginny by surprise.

“Good morning!” Hermione smiles as she springs out of bed.

“Is it?” Ginny complains in return. “It’s snowing, which means no Quidditch.”

Hermione collects her things and heads for the shared bathroom with a chuckle, not letting the thought of bad weather affect her good mood.

⁂

When I saw you, everyone knew, I liked the effect that you had on my eyes But no one else heard the weight of your words or, felt the effect that they have on my mind.

Today’s Head Girl duties include monitoring the monthly visit to Hogsmeade. As a seventh-year, Hermione is allowed out of the castle anytime she wants, as long as she tells her Head of House. But the younger children always need supervising. Even with the war over, and the threat of Voldemort over, they still need to be cautious.

It’s her favourite part of the month. Being cooped up in the castle is so oppressive after a year spent camping in forests and hiding on cliff tops, so being out in the village helps clear her head.

If she gets five minutes, she may even be able to pick up Ron’s birthday present. There’s still a week until the big day, and chances are, he’ll probably still be away for work, but she wants to collect it now, just in case. She’ll wait until she sees him face to face before she gives it to him.

The late February snow is trying to melt, but the keen Scottish wind keeps the last of it lingering around. Hermione stands in her usual spot outside Honeydukes, watching as the students enter the shop then leave with their arms full of treats. Her parents would have an aneurysm if they saw the number of sugary treats devoured by the children in the school. Just the amount Ron consumes would set them off.

The thought of her boyfriend brings another smile to her lips, though it does nothing to stave off the cold. What she wants right now is to be cuddled up in Ron Weasley’s strong arms, a mug of Molly’s delicious hot chocolate and a roaring fire, and in that particular order, too.

A loud pop distracts her as someone apparates at the bottom of the lane. Over the heads of raucous students, a tall stranger appears, bundled up warm against the cold. She finds her gaze drawn to the newcomer, and she immediately recognises the bounce in his step as he walks past the rows of shops and hordes of students.

Hermione’s heart beats in an unsteady rhythm against her ribcage, her eyes widen, and the air disappears from her lungs. As the man draws closer, she catches a peek of red hair under a bright orange bobble hat and the long, thin nose that so often grazes against hers as they kiss. But what draws her to the man is his deep blue eyes, which she can see shining up the street from a million miles away.

It’s Ron.

With an uncharacteristic squeal, she takes off from her spot, trying her best to keep her balance in the ice as she throws herself at her boyfriend. Arms and legs lock around his long, gangly body with such force he’s almost bowled over. He compensates with long fingers clinging on to her as she buries her head against the crock of his neck. Her senses ignite as she takes a long breath, drinking in the smell of him—clean, with a hint of sandalwood and eucalyptus.

“What are you doing here?” she mumbles against his skin, her lips finding a path between his knitted scarf and stubble up his pale neck.

Ron moans at the assault from her kisses. “Missed you, is all.”

Hermione Granger has always been an intelligent girl, so it’s a surprise to her that a handful of words can turn her mind to mush. Right now, despite the fact she’s supposed to be on Head Girl duty, all she can focus on is the handsome man in her arms, and the fire blazes through her skin at their contact, even through layers of clothes.

Falling.

Forgetting that they’re in a public place, Hermione’s mouth seeks his, and they fall into a hungry kiss. Teeth clash, noses bump together, yet after weeks away, it’s the best thing in the world. The taste of peppermint and chocolate frogs spreads across her tongue, taking her straight back to lazy summer days spent snogging out by the lake at the Burrow.

Just as her lungs feel like they might explode, Ron tears his lips away from hers, and he flashes her one of his patented lop-sided grins. If she didn’t have her legs firmly wrapped around him, she might have gone weak at the knees.

With a chuckle, he teases, “Guess you missed me too?” All Hermione can do is nod in reply, overwhelmed by his sudden appearance. “Good! I missed you so fucking much. My mission finished early, but Harry is still away, and I didn’t know what else I could do to distract me from worrying about the results.”

“Oh, glad to see I’m your second option,” Hermione chides, although her massive smile does not falter. “How did you know I was here?”

“Ginny has been sending me your Head Girl schedule for months. Not that I’m keeping tabs on you,” he adds. “Just wanted to make the most of any opportunity I might have to see you.”

Impressed by his cunning plan, she presses one final hard kiss against his lips before removing herself from their reunion embrace. “Well, since it’s your birthday in a week, I guess I better start spoiling you.”

She tangles their fingers together before starting to lead him down the lane.

“But what about your duties?” he questions. “I didn’t think your slot finished until lunchtime?”

“It doesn’t, but I don’t think it will matter if I skive off a little earlier. Especially given the circumstances.”

With her back turned, she misses the look of glee that passes over Ron’s face before his eyes turn dark. She’s too absorbed in her mission to buy him all his favourite treats, cavities be damned, then curl up in a cosy corner by the fire in the Three Broomsticks so that she can do some serious catching up with him.

Their palms press together as they walk, filling her body with warmth. Ron is back where he belongs, and even if it’s only for a few hours, this feeling is a hundred times better than any of the letters he sends while they’re apart.

I know, ‘cause I’d spend half this morning, thinking about the t-shirt you sleep in, I should know, ‘cause I’d spend all the whole day, listening to your message I’m keeping,

Not that she plans on ever getting rid of them.

and never deleting.

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #hp canon pairings #canon fest romantic #submission #romione #ron x hermione

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sirthisisa-wendys · 3 years ago

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Hi! your writing is so amazing and I always come back to the Geto x reader works you did. I’d love to request a strong female reader whos a warrior that catches Geto’s eye. I know this is vague but I hope it can give you some ideas. Again thank you for your amazing writing its so entertaining 💗💗

The Commander: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

wc: 1.7k

tw: NSFW

masterlist

Suguru knew what might happen if he began allowing females into the King's Guard.

He knew what circumstances he would be putting his men - and himself - in if he did this.

But his troops were so few... and the King himself even had the grand idea that it would be best if they had women in the Gaurd to boost morale in his regime.

He caved the day Satoru - with his glassy blue eyes and somber expression - told him that he had to fix public opinion in his favor - or else. Suguru knew this threat was hollow, but the fact that Satoru - his best friend since childhood - thought it was time, well... that was enough to persuade him.

As announcements went out around the country, Suguru didn't really expect anyone to show up for training. Training as a King's Guard was brutal, and the regiment would include fasting, staying awake for three nights in a row, and building rapport with the others in order to complete the final task - a trek up the highest peak in the middle of winter.

And at first, no one did. Suguru smirked to himself every day that passed, bringing forth no new women into the fold. Perhaps things could be kept as they were. Things could remain as they always had been, and no one would get hurt.

But on the third day of recruitment, you came swaggering in through the gates of the training grounds, pack loaded up on your back and eyes determined.

Everyone held their breath - that's something that Suguru remembered quite well - until you stated your name loudly for all to hear, and dumped your pack onto the ground with a thud.

"I'm y/n from the Whispering Hills," you stated, hands resting on your hips. "And I've come to join the King's Guard."

____________________________________________________________

Everyone knows better than to laugh at a child of the Whispering Hills. The people from that area of the country are famed for their ruthlessness, unwavering loyalty, and quick tempers. They also believe in the Old Gods, which were banned from being worshipped long ago by the king before Satoru's father.

But no one seems to care that you wake up at the crack of dawn, walk out into the field with your nightclothes still on, and kneel in the direction of the hills with your eyes closed and hands folded in prayer.

No one says a word when you stay behind to eat and the others go off to pay tribute to the New Gods with offerings of wheat, grains, and fruits.

No one, not even Suguru, bothers you when you slay an animal and burn it on a makeshift altar (animal sacrifices are also forbidden) because they know you will cut them to pieces without even blinking an eye. And you'd be fully justified in doing so.

Suguru watches you do all of this, his eyes assessing you carefully as you train with the other men without missing a beat, without being injured or tapping out.

And for some reason, the deepest fear he had begins to blossom in his chest like an unbidden guest taking residence in his space. He's watched you for a few weeks now, just being yourself - but has never spoken to you one-on-one. Why hasn't he just--

"Commander."

The voice belongs to you, and you stand above him, looking just as you did on the first day you arrived. Suguru's eyes dilate and he swallows hard past the lump in his throat.

"Yes, y/n?"

"I must request a short leave of absence to meet with my people at the foot of the hills. It is festival season."

"I cannot permit you to leave training for your festivals," Suguru looks back down at his papers, shrugging. "You made a commitment to remain here with us during your training. You must keep that promise or be kicked out of this year's recruits."

Suguru doesn't see the shift in your stance, but he can feel the air around him shift from respectful to hostile. When he looks up at your expression, though, you look perfectly fine.

"Understood."

_____________________________________________________________

But things were not fine.

"Sir! She's refusing to do anything, and we can't complete the trek up the mountain without her in our group."

Suguru's had enough of your non-compliance. Ever since he said "no" to you going back to your hometown, you'd been unmoved from your station in your tent. Festival season was long over, but you'd remained in your tent, alone, and unwilling to reemerge.

The flaps on the tent swing open as Suguru storms in, his hair and eyes wild with disdain.

"Get up," he mutters, and you rise from your bed, looking over at him with bleary eyes. "You made a commitment."

"You do not honor my gods," you begin, wiping your eyes. "I will not come out until the moon has completed its course."

"I said, get up." Against his better judgment, Suguru pulls you up out of your bed by your arm and drags you to your feet. You sneer at him and bark the command to let you go, but Suguru ignores you - again, a poor move on his part. Because then, without speaking, you launch into an attack.

Suguru's been studying you carefully, and he knows your go-to moves, dodging them with ease and skill. You can hardly catch him off guard as your fight spills out into the open, calling the attention of all of the guards-in-training around you.

Suguru's long hair flies in the wind as he ducks, avoids, swiftly blocks, all while you're on the offensive, face turning a deep shade of red as you try to land a single blow on his body. If you could just get him once... then you'd have a personal achievement and a justified temper.

"Your temper is unyielding," Suguru pants, face splitting into a wild grin. "But your body cannot last as long as mine."

"We'll see about that," you reply, hands and fists flying with precision. After a few more moments of this back-and-forth, Geto stops you with two well-timed punches; one to the stomach, and one to the chest. You stumble back to catch your breath, vision blurring, but his hands grip yours behind your back, twisting them painfully.

"Yield."

"I will not yield," you grit out, pain shooting up your arms.

"Yield and I will spare you the punishment that follows."

"I will not yield!" you scream, bucking against the brute strength of the man.

"Your pride will cost you, then."

_____________________________________________________________

Your pride cost you more than just discomfort.

As you lay at the foot of Suguru's bed, your mouth whispers silent curses upon the Commander.

"Hush," Suguru gripes from his perch at his desk. "Your cursing is much too loud for my ears. I must focus."

"I hope you're never able to focus again," you snap, hands tied behind you.

"Such a sweet thing to say to your commander, soldier."

"I hope you choke on it." Suguru looks up from his book, but not at you, contemplating taming that snarky mouth of yours. But he decides against it, returning to his scribing.

Why are his hands shaking so bad, though? Had it really been so long since he felt challenged in a fight? And not only challenged but terribly aroused?

Suguru tries to fight these feelings day in and day out, looking at you with some terrible form of lust in his mind circling around him and making him go insane.

What could he do?

What should he do?

When he sees you laying on the floor with a death glare, he wants to break out into laughter and tell you to lighten up, but he knows if he does, he'll be ruined as a commander in your eyes. He must be stern, tough, unyielding, unshaken. All the things he's always been.

"You take yourself too seriously," you whisper, and Suguru looks over at you again, his brow raised.

"And you don't?"

"This isn't about me," you mutter, looking over your shoulder at your tied hands. "This is about your appearance." She's not wrong. "You want to seem strong. I've been eyeing you, Commander. I know how you work."

"Then you know I'm not going to let you get away with anything because you're a woman."

"But you do have a soft spot for me." Suguru rolls his eyes, despite you being absolutely right. "That's why I thought you'd let me go home for a few days. I see the way you look at me. Have you seen the way I look at you?"

"Don't," Suguru bites out, trying his best to avoid looking you in the eye. "Don't do that."

"Have you thought about me in your bed, Commander?" Suguru's breath hitches and he wonders if you'd snuck into his mind at some point, watching him watching you. "Or should I call you Suguru?"

The alarm bells in his mind are ringing, but something in Suguru lurches anyway, wanting you to say his name like that again.

"Y/n, this is neither the time, nor the place, nor the man you want to test you womanly wiles on."

"Oh?" You produce both of your hands, now untied, for him to see. "Or is it the perfect time, the perfect place, and the perfect man who has me all alone in his tent for the evening?" Suguru stiffens as you walk around to where he's seated, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "You going to show me who the strongest is, Commander? Or are you going to sit there and let yourself be taken by a woman, again?"

The answer is clear by the third hour of the morning.

Your hips smack backward, and Suguru hisses, hand coming down on your asscheek again.

"Tell me who the strongest is," Suguru huffs above you, one hand holding both of your wrists on the bed.

"You are," you breathe, looking over your shoulder at his pleased expression, dark eyes drinking in your features with the lust you'd preyed on earlier. "You're the strongest."

"That's right," Suguru exhales, leaning over your back and whispering in your ear. "I'll always be the strongest between the two of us. Don't forget that, y/n."

#geto suguru smut #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader

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mochegato · 4 years ago

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The Road to Asphodel is Paved in Pink

Meet Cute Monday for @boldlyanxious Hope this makes you smile!

Pink boxes, pink bags, pink dolls, pink instruments, pink goo, pink Legos, pink cars, pink, pink, pink. Everything in the aisle was pink. A hundred different shades of it filled the shelves of the aisle. Everywhere he looked was pink. They even put down a pink covering on the floor just to complete the look. Honestly, it was starting to hurt his eyes. “Who knew there were so many shades of pink,” Jason grumbled rubbing his eyes.

He heard a chuckle from down the aisle. “Trust me it’s worse when it’s an aisle of the same shade of pink. Like some kind of never-ending fuchsia tunnel to Asphodel.” She shuddered slightly. “And I like pink.”

“I take it you have experience with this?” He vaguely motioned around the aisle.

She bobbed her head to the side and hummed noncommittally. “My friend’s twins will be six this year. I get them things from time to time just because, so I end up here sometimes. I’m looking for their birthday this time. I was thinking of instruments they could play with their moms or their grandpa, but just realized they probably have so many instruments already, so now I’m looking for inspiration. But the only inspiration I’m getting is pink. Annoying really. Because apparently that’s the only color girls respond to.”

“I think it’s damaging my retinas,” he chuckled looking back at the shelves of pink.

She chuckled and nodded in agreement before returning her attention to the shelves around her. Jason looked back over at her as she searched the shelves. He really should be focusing on Lian’s gift. Her party started soon so he didn’t have time to waste flirting with random women in the toy aisle, but his eyes kept wandering back to her. It could be because they wanted a break from the sea of pink attempting to sear his eyes, but more likely it was because she was stunning and looking at her made him feel lighter.

After a few minutes she quirked her head to the side and grabbed a box. She puckered her lips as she looked toward it, her eyes unfocused and her brow furrowed as though planning. Jason watched her face run through a few expressions as she thought through whatever she was planning, each expression cuter than the last one. Finally she gave a quick nod and dropped the box into her shopping basket.

“Finally figured it out huh?” he smiled at her.

“Yeah. They like playing with hair so I’m going to get this hair glitter and chalk set and some of the Hello Kitty brushes I saw by the entrance and make a bunch of barrettes and headbands.” She grinned proudly at him. “And not one of the damn things will be pink in retaliation against all of this.” She motioned around them.

He barked out a laugh and nodded appreciatively. “Damn. That’s a really good idea. But Lian isn’t quite there yet.”

She smiled and moved so she was standing closer to him, close enough now that he could run his fingers along her jaw if he wanted. Well, not if he wanted because he did want, rather if he thought it would be received well. His fingers twitched to try until he finally had to clench them into fists to stop them. “Okay, well… what does she like? I mean, if you want some help. I know you didn’t ask…”

“No! No, please. Please help me.” He gave her a charming smile before reminding himself what her question was. He sighed and pulled out his phone to check his texts. “I don’t know… He said she likes ‘girl things’.”

“Girl things…” she repeated slowly with an unamused raised eyebrow. “Like saws and computer programs and syringes? Or things girls didn’t invent just enjoy?”

Jason stared at her for a few seconds before chuckling and looking back at the toys with a sheepish smile. “I don’t think that’s what the idiot meant.”

“So I take it this isn’t your daughter?”

“No. My best friend’s daughter.”

“Okay, well, your best friend is no help at all. No offense.” She gave him a smirk that suggested she didn’t really care if she did offend. He smiled back at her and nodded in agreement with her assessment. “What do you know about her?” she continued. “How old will she be?”

“She’s turning four,” he started slowly, trying to order all his memories into a useful resource. “She’s smart. She likes engines and coloring and painting. She LOVES cats. Her favorite color is red.”

Marinette nodded. “She sounds very smart and artistic.”

“Yeah. She is constantly painting pictures for me. My first thought was a book, a children’s classic she could keep for a while, but she recognizes letters but can’t read yet. So that’s out,” he grumbled.

“I don’t know, it sounds like you have two perfect gifts there.” He looked at her questioningly. “More paint so she can paint more pictures for you,” her voice became increasingly excited as she thought through the gift. “There are art kits a few aisles over or there’s an art store a few doors down. Or a book, just because she can’t read it doesn’t mean you can’t read it to her, and I bet she’ll think that’s even better. Or you could do both. I’m sure there are tons of kids’ books about painting or colors that you could get along with some paint.”

He nodded as he thought about what book to get her and what art supplies. “That’s…” his words trailed off as he looked back up at her. Her eyes were sparkling with excitement and the only thing he could think was “…perfect.”

She cocked her head to the side and watched him curiously. “Hmm?”

He shook his head quickly. “Your idea, it’s perfect. Thank you for helping me. I’m Jason by the way.” He held his hand out to shake hers.

She shook his hand with a brilliant smile. “Hi Jason. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Marinette.”

“Which would you recommend for the art supplies?” He asked, hoping to draw out the conversation.

She puckered her lips as she thought about it. “Depends on what she has already and how seriously she takes her art. There’s plenty here for a four year old. But, if she knows the difference between shades and gets upset she can’t get the exact color she wants, like I did at that age, you might want a more complete set than is available here. Or if the brushes aren’t doing what she wants, there will be more options at the art store.”

He grinned at the thought of a four year old version of Marinette stomping her feet in frustration because she couldn’t get the right shade of pink on her painting. “Sounds like you were really into art.”

Marinette laughed awkwardly. “Yeah, I was very… particular.” She shrugged and brushed her bangs behind her ear. “Still am.”

“So you’re an artist,” he prompted her.

She gave him a relieved smile, grateful for a change in topic. “A designer, yeah. You?”

“A… uh… bodyguard. So you know, if your body needs guarding, let me know.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

Marinette laughed and shook her head as she looked down. “I’ve got it covered but thanks for the offer.”

He pouted slightly. That was one of his better lines. Clearly a different approach would be necessary, one less superficial and more honest, one more conducive to starting an actual relationship, which he didn’t mind in the least. “What do you design?”

“Clothing.” She smiled brightly up at him.

He shot her a crooked smile and leaned closer to her. “Ah… so you’ve been silently judging my outfit for the last five minutes or so.”

“Longer than that,” she smirked at him.

He perked up and shot a smug smile at her. “Sounds like you haven’t been able to take your eyes off of me.”

“Oh, don’t be so hard on yourself,” she consoled him wryly. “Your outfit isn’t that bad.”

He pursed his lips for a moment before bursting out into laughter. “Can I talk you into helping me pick out some paint supplies and a book? Maybe I can repay you somehow?”

“Yeah, I can do that. No repayment necessary. I want to make sure Lian, was it?” She looked to him uncertainly. He nodded at her. She nodded with a smile. “I wouldn’t want Lian to end up with something in terrible taste.”

“Hey! I have great taste.” He objected with a mock offended scoff.

She looked him up and down playfully. “Yeah, sure you do.”

He laughed again, his laughter echoing off the pink around them. He took a step closer to her. “Did you want to come with me to the party, too? You’re helping pick out the gift after all. It’s only fair you get to join in the spoils.”

She smiled shyly, but didn’t back away. “No thank you. It sounds like a really special event for your friend. I don’t want to intrude on that.”

“You wouldn’t be intruding. I’m sure my friend would welcome another adult there to help corral the chaos, but I understand not wanting to go.” He moved a step closer again, his eyes becoming softer. “But, since you’re going to miss out on the cake and food, how about I take you out to dinner instead to thank you for your help? I really would have been lost if you hadn’t helped.”

She smiled brilliantly up at him. “I’d like that.”

#jasonette #meet cute #maribat

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whispersatdawn · 4 years ago

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on the rebound | jeong jaehyun social media!au | part 8

↳ In an attempt to finally move on from his ex-girlfriend, basketball star Jeong Jaehyun reaches out to Y/N, who he knows has a crush on him.

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a/n: i wasn’t gonna include a written part, but here we are

word count: ~3k

This... feels strange, you thought mindlessly to yourself, as your gaze fixed on the boy seated next to you. He was busy on his phone taking photos of the fading sunset that he barely noticed you staring, which you were quite thankful for because it allowed you to take a look at him just a little longer.

There was no denying that Jaehyun was attractive. To be honest, his beautiful features slightly intimidated you. When his perfectly shaped brows raised in surprise. Or when his dreamy dark brown eyes looked like he was trying to figure someone out. You especially liked it when Jaehyun smiled or laughed. You were confident Jaehyun’s dimples were the culprits of stealing many people’s hearts; those cheek indentations were truly fatal. However, for you, it was simply the occasional, cute nose scrunch. Unlike the dimples, the latter came and went quickly, but it still had an impact all the same.

Despite having been on few casual dates with Jaehyun in the past week, it was difficult to wrap your head around the time spent together, especially since the past two years consisted of you pining over him, after missing the opportunity to act on your feelings and confess to him.

Two Years Ago (First year of college)

"We should rent an apartment and be roommates next semester!”

Your eyes widened at Sujin’s suggestion. “All four of us?” you asked, swiftly spinning your finger once to point at yourself as well as the group seated around you. It was a clear day, so after class, you had a picnic with your friends at the university quad. “My parents helped me pay for campus room and board this year. I don’t know if my part-time job at the fitness center can afford rent.”

After meeting Sujin at the freshman orientation and running into Ten and Johnny in line at a food stand during the school organizations event, you had never had more fun nor felt more comfortable with anyone than you did with them. You remembered studying for hours often with Sujin since you both were biology majors and shared some courses. There was also the time when you attended the university dance team’s fall show and watched Ten’s first solo performance. Of course, though you almost always refrained from physical altercation, you could never forget the day you confronted Johnny’s ex-girlfriend at a party after she cheated on him and showed no remorse, which resulted in hair-pulling as well as Sujin and Ten dragging you out before further troubles. With what you all had gotten through together, there was no doubt that you considered the three to be your closest friends.

“Aren’t you going to apply for the research position with Dr. Kim? I’m sure it pays more,” Sujin said before taking a bite out of her sandwich.

“That’s the plan, but she hasn’t opened applications yet, so I just have to wait,” you sighed, laying down Johnny’s lap. “I think it’ll be fun to live together though!”

“I’ve actually been thinking about living off campus, too,” Ten said, grinning, “so you’d all be saving me from looking for roommates. I’m in.”

“Johnny?” you asked in a sing-song voice, looking up at the handsome male, waiting for his response. You opened your mouth as Johnny fed you a grape and then he leaned back, probably considering the idea.

“Hm... if I say yes, can I bring people over to spend the night?”

You grimaced at him before sitting back up right away while Johnny let out a laugh due to your reaction. “No thanks for the image,” you deadpanned, “though I guess it’d be cruel to deprive you of sex. We’ll all need to obviously talk more about housing and details later...”

“Y/N, behind you! He’s here.”

You instantly froze after Sujin’s announcement. “He’s here?” you mouthed, heart rate picking up, and Sujin confirmed with an eager nod. Pushing the conversation with your friends to the side, your ears were now focused on the sounds behind you. Multiple shoes against pavement. A ball dribbling. Familiar as well as unfamiliar voices chattering. When you tried to discreetly turn around, you found some members of the basketball team on the open court. You immediately spotted Jeong Jaehyun, casually wearing a black hoodie and maroon basketball shorts, playfully shoving a teammate after a teasing remark.

“Oh my god, how did he get even hotter after Spring Break?!” you muttered before turning back to your friends.

Johnny scoffed jokingly. “Hey, hey, keep it in your pants.”

“Also, aren’t you forgetting something?” Ten asked you, nudging his head back to the basketball court.

Oh. Right.

The actual reason you coincidentally (not) picked this day for a picnic at the same time Jaehyun and his friends played basketball.

You and Jaehyun took a Calculus class together the previous semester, and in a room with a little more than 100 seats, you ended up sitting next to Jaehyun. The two of you barely exchanged much words other than when one of you had questions about assignments, but you could not help but be drawn to him anyway. And although he did not have to talk to you outside of class, you always appreciated his greetings whenever you ran into each other at parties or after his basketball games. You thought your feelings were just a temporary infatuation, but your crush only seemed to grow after months, so you made a vow. After Spring Break, you would ask Jaehyun out.

However, now that you saw Jaehyun standing a few feet across from you, you felt like you were going to throw up. You wanted to back out. Abort. “Oh, look at the time!” you laughed nervously, pointing at your wrist that was definitely not wearing a watch. “I forgot I have to study for an exam tomorrow.”

You started to stand up, but Ten yanked you back down to the ground right away, causing you to land on your butt. “Nuh-uh. Don’t think so. Hey, Yuta!”

You shot a look at Ten, sending a quick telepathic message along the lines of Are you fucking serious? before turning back to everyone on the court. Almost all of the guys faced the direction of your group after hearing Yuta’s name called. You found Yuta who waved once he spotted you and your friends. I guess I’m doing this, you thought to yourself, breathing deeply and then mustering the biggest smile you could in that moment.

“Good luck, babe,” Sujin cheered as soon as you stood up and started to walk towards Yuta. The group had already dispersed to different parts of the court, ready to start a game.

“Is there a reason why you texted me if I would be out at the quad today?” Yuta asked as you ran into his arms for a quick hug.

You pulled away and then playfully punched his arm. “Maybe there’s just something about you playing basketball that makes me swoon,” you said, batting your eyelashes at him.

Yuta rolled his eyes, punching your arm back lightly. “Please. I can assure you that from middle to high school, when your parents worked, you had to wait after my practices so my dad could take us home. You’ve definitely used the word miserable to describe it.”

“Okay, but it’s obvious that my presence at your practices have made you into who you are today, right? This university has to thank me for their best shooting guard.”

Yuta grinned. “Alright, just tell me what you want.”

You hummed, rocking back and forth on your feet as you glanced around for the one who has been on your mind. “I actually wanted to talk to Jaehyun.”

“Jeong Jaehyun?”

You nodded your head. Yuta leaned closer, eyes narrowing as if he was trying to assess you. After a second, your friend straightened back up and called for his teammate. “Jaehyun!”

Jaehyun stopped his conversation with another player and turned his attention to you and Yuta, slightly confused, but he walked over to you both. “What’s up?” Jaehyun questioned, catching a quick glimpse of you.

“Y/N wanted to talk to you, so I’ll leave you two to it,” Yuta explained, ruffling your hair as a goodbye before he left you alone with Jaehyun.

You let out a nervous laugh, fixing your hair. It was now or never. With the close distance between you two, you got a whiff of Jaehyun’s cologne—wood, also kind of spicy. “Hey, Y/N. Sucks we don’t have a class together this semester.”

“Yeah, sucks. How was your break?”

Jaehyun shrugged. “I went to Cabo.”

You paused. “Oh.” The wealthy be different. “Cabo. Must’ve been a hell of a time. I thought Haeun’s pool party was something. Not even close.”

"Yeah, Cabo was a great time. So... what did you need to tell me?”

“What?”

“Um, you said you wanted to talk?”

“Oh!” you exclaimed, feeling shy after remembering why you were there in the first place. Your eyes shifted to your shoes, unable to keep eye contact with the boy in front of you. Nervousness as well as excitement rushed through you, and your body felt like it was tingling. It kind of scared you what his reaction would be, but it was what it was. The worse he could say was no. “About that. I—”

“Jaehyun!”

Suddenly, a feminine voice called out his name. You whipped your head around to find a girl with a black long bob and bangs waving excitedly to Jaehyun and then running straight into his open arms. You took a minute to process what was happening. Your first thought was that she was very pretty. Her makeup suited her, especially the burgundy red lip tint. Her body also fitted well in her white tank top and black skinny jeans.

“Hey, babe. What’re you doing here? I thought you were working on your journalism project,” Jaehyun said, happiness evident through the way his face lit up, smiling in a way you had never seen Jaehyun smile before. Arms still around the girl, Jaehyun leaned down to give her a peck on the lips. You quickly averted your eyes, feeling as if you were intruding on the intimate moment.

“Yeah, but I missed you, so I decided to take a break and hang out with you,” the girl answered in the sweetest tone as she pulled away from Jaehyun. She then looked over at you as if she noticed you for the first time. “Who’s this?”

“This is—”

“I was just leaving,” you interrupted.

Jaehyun brows furrowed. “Wait, I thought—”

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” you said a little too quickly, waving your hand dismissively. “It was nothing important. I had a question, but the answer just popped into my head, haha. I, uh, actually have a thing, so I’m gonna go now. Yeah. Thanks, Jaehyun. And nice meeting you—”

“Hyejin.”

“Hyejin. Nice meeting you, Hyejin. Okay, bye!”

You spun around, and your feet picked up pace as you walked away from the basketball court, out the quad, towards the direction of the dorm. Your phone vibrated in your back pocket, likely a call from one of your friends, but you could not help but feel slightly embarrassed after the incident. The last thing you wanted to do was talk about it.

Babe. Definitely way worse than being rejected.

End of Flashback

When you snapped out of your thoughts, you realized that Jaehyun was now staring back at you, with those captivating eyes that sought for answers. “Y/N?” he called out softly.

You felt your cheeks grow warm, slightly flustered that you zoned out while looking at him. “Y-Yeah?” Shit, you cursed to yourself after you choked on the reply, and you cleared your throat before answering more clearly. “Yeah?”

Jaehyun leaned back and chuckled. “I just wanted to let you know I really appreciate you coming to the basketball games again. It’s nice seeing your face in the crowd.”

You smiled. “Of course. None of my roomies except Ten really enjoy watching basketball, but he’s been busy and it’s been fun attending with Mark and Lucas. Also, don’t tell Yuta but I think I gradually started to like basketball because of him. Watching him for so many years, I can’t help but get into it when I see him find so much delight in the sport. He’s insane on the court.”

When you caught Jaehyun’s pout, you let out a laugh. He wanted his ego fed for sure. “I mean, obviously, he’s nothing compared to you, Captain. Come on now.”

“Obviously,” Jaehyun replied, giving you a smug look. Then for some reason, in a few seconds, you caught his expression when his smirk fell. “You know, my ex,” Jaehyun started, absentmindedly grasping at the sand under his hand and letting them fall through his fingers, “she never really attended my games.”

As the sun was about to fully disappear, you heard the sound of thunder rumble in the sky. Looking up, you noticed that dark clouds started to roll in. Was it supposed to rain today, you wondered. “Hyejin?” you asked, returning your attention to Jaehyun. He nodded. Since he brought her up, you might as well have asked your questions and got them over with now. “If it’s okay, can I ask what happened between you two?”

Silence settled between you and Jaehyun when he did not answer right away, which made you feel bad because you did not want to open those wounds again. Another wave of thunder roared. You two would have to return back home soon. You were about to try and change the topic, but Jaehyun spoke first. “She said that the way I loved her bored her. I don’t know. Something about how I always agreed with her and that I never confronted other guys when I felt jealous. Or when I didn’t argue with her, it felt like I didn’t care at all.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” You did not know what else to say. Breakups were hard. Before you realized, your hand reached over to Jaehyun’s, and you placed yours over his, squeezing it softly. “It’s not place to say... but she didn’t deserve you.”

Jaehyun turned his hand over so that his palm held yours, squeezing back. His lips stretched into a small smile. “Thank you, Y/N.”

You then felt a droplet of water tap on your leg. Then the top of your head. Then your cheek. Suddenly, the pitter patter of the rain became louder as it hit the sand and water. You and Jaehyun looked at each, mouth opened in awe at such misfortune, before the both of you bursted into a fit of laughter. “Wait, did you not check the weather before planning this?!” you exclaimed to Jaehyun with a huge grin on your face as you jumped up, barely covering yourself with your hands above your head.

“Listen,” Jaehyun explained as he also stood up, grabbing the jacket that he brought with him. “did you not check the weather?”

You were not sure if the rush your body felt was due to the unforeseen weather or the way Jaehyun stared at you like he was waiting for you to make a move. With your adrenaline and curiosity, you stepped closer to him. “Are you seriously trying to blame this on your date right now, Jeong Jaehyun?”

Jaehyun leaned closer to your face. You sucked in a breath, aware of the lack of space between you two. Jaehyun took his jacket and covered the top of your head to protect as best as he could from the rain. You grabbed the outerwear, but Jaehyun’s grasp was also still on the jacket. Despite the rain drenching Jaehyun from head to toe, a smile remained on his face. “I’m sorry. You’re right. This was my bad. How can I make it up to you?” Jaehyun asked as his eyes fell onto your lips before looking up to read your eyes. His lips pressed together, and his next question almost turned you into a puddle. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” It was all Jaehyun needed to hear to release his hold on the jacket and moved his hands to cup your face. Jaehyun’s lips brushed against yours. Soft. His lips were soft. You smelled the familiar scent of his cologne, and it made you even dizzier as you continued to kiss Jaehyun, letting the blossoming warmth consume you. You could not help but smile into the kiss, and when his tongue pressed between your lips, you started to part your lips for him until a loud crack of thunder struck in the sky, prompting you both to pull away from each other.

“As much as I’d like to keep going, I think I should get you home before you catch a cold,” Jaehyun said with a chuckle.

Like a gentleman, Jaehyun walked you all the way to your front door. Though you offered Jaehyun shelter from the rain inside your apartment, he declined, assuring you that his fraternity house was not too far from your place. “Really sorry we couldn’t get that fancy dinner,” Jaehyun apologized. “I knew you were looking forward to that the most.”

You shook your head, reassuring him with a smile. “No worries. I had such an amazing time, Jae.”

He leaned in to give you a quick peck on the lips. “Next time. Now get inside and change into some dry clothes. I’ll text you later.”

“Drive safe,” you told him, and he nodded. As soon as Jaehyun walked away from you, you grabbed your key and unlocked the door to your apartment, calling out to your roommates. “I’m home!”

Sujin was the first one to greet you in the living room. Her eyes widened when she spotted you in your wet clothes, droplets of water dripping from your hair to the tiled floor. “Geez, Y/N! I thought you two were just going to watch the sunset, not get into the water fully clothed.”

You playfully rolled your eyes and passed by Sujin to get to your room. After you closed the door, you ran to your bed and plopped on the mattress, not even bothering to change out of your clothes right away. You unlocked your phone and opened Instagram to view the most recent photos of you and Jaehyun from today, recalling the event that occurred hours ago. Today really happened. Jaehyun kissed me.

taglist: @fluffyjaes @hwangful @seeking-faces @urlocalnctstan @justineasian @127-jaehyun @dearjaehyxn @taesty-jams @jeneyesmile @taeiluv127 @mango-bear @marklexleaf @generantionct @tyxsaturn @247byun @yourchasingsunsetslove @ajhdr @jaeficrecs @bitchenderyy @thorscrown @leaurcitee @erisxczenie @minavenue @phoenixes-and-wizards @renjunf00ls @notminniie @sanisms @sunflowerhae @smileyyuta @ohmy-fandoms @artfulbarnes @anotherfullsun @moons00 @nctlovesme @unmanageable-day @raywishii @thejungjaehyun @venusprada @doyobun @nshitae @andrea-chanel @llamabouquet

#nct social au #nct social media au #jaehyun social media au #jung jaehyun #jung yoonoh #nct #jaehyun au #jaehyun angst #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun x y/n #jaehyun x reader #nct aus #nct angst #nct imagines #nct scenarios #jaehyun fluff #nct fluff #on the rebound

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sisterspooky1013 · 3 years ago

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Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 6

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

“I still think you should wear the blue one,” Missy says from her spot lying on Dana’s bed, having long ago tired of the lengthy debate over what she should wear for her date with Mulder.

It’s now 5:30 and while her hair and makeup have been meticulously complete for over an hour, she’s found herself unable to decide on a dress.

“I was wearing that when Ethan proposed to me, Missy. It’s tainted,” she replies with a glare, alternately holding up a red dress that hits just above the knee and has spaghetti straps, and a black one that is ankle length and has a halter top.

Missy rolls onto her side with an exasperated sigh. “It’s just a dress, Dana. And the man is already in love with you, I doubt he cares that much about what you’re wearing. You’re overthinking it, Sis. Though I think I do have some sage in my bag if you want me to smudge it,” she adds helpfully.

Dana gives her sister a pleading look.

“Fine. Wear the red one,” she acquiesces, moving to sit up. “I better get out of here before he shows up,” she says, and the second the words leave her mouth they hear a soft rapping on the door. They look at each other, Dana still in her bra panties, and then Missy stands. “I’ll let him in, you get dressed.”

Missy pulls the bedroom door closed behind her and answers just as Mulder knocks for a second time. He gives her a quizzical look and turns to check the number on the apartment.

“You’ve got the right one, I’m Dana’s sister, Melissa. We met once,” Missy says as she extends her hand.

Mulder takes it, nodding with recognition. “Right, I remember. Uh, is Scully, I mean Dana, here?”

Missy gives him a sympathetic frown. “No, I’m sorry. She changed her mind.”

Mulder’s expression falls until he hears Scully call out from behind her “Missy, don’t be a jerk!”

She crosses the living room, pausing by the couch to pull a shoe the rest of the way over her heel, and then arrives in the doorway. Mulder is dressed in a black suit and crisp white shirt, his dark grey tie patterned with little triangles. His hair looks freshly cut, barely long enough to run your fingers through, and he’s holding a small bouquet of flowers. He looks delicious.

“I think that’s my cue to leave,” Missy says with a mischievous smile, grabbing her satchel from the dining room table and slipping past Mulder out the open door. “You two kids have fun,” she calls over her shoulder.

Dana rolls her eyes at her sister's remark, then turns to see Mulder staring at her with an oddly intense expression, his lips slightly parted.

“What?” she asks with genuine concern, looking down at her dress to make sure nothing is out of place.

He shakes his head gently as if pulling himself from a reverie. “You look...you look incredible. I mean you always look incredible but now that I’m allowed to tell you that you look incredible…” he drags his eyes down to her shoes and back up to her face where he finds a soft smile on her lips. “You’re so beautiful,” he completes.

She looks away sheepishly, pressing her lips together to hide the grin that it would feel too conceited to let show. “Thank you,” she says quietly, then meets his eye. “You look very handsome yourself.”

They look at each other for a beat, and she can tell he wants to kiss her. She wonders if he will, and if she should let him. They’ve already done much more than kiss, but everything still feels so new. Starting over indeed.

“Oh, these are for you,” he blurts out, breaking the tension as he offers her the flowers.

“Thank you, they’re beautiful,” she replies, taking them and going to the kitchen for a vase. She can sense his eyes on her back as she fills it with water then sets it on the table. She feels a little tingle in response, one she hasn’t felt in a very, very long time. “Shall we?” she asks as she grabs a sweater from the closet, avoiding his eye lest she throw him down on her sofa and never make it to dinner at all.

He steps just outside the door into the hall, so close as she locks it behind them that she can smell his aftershave. When they turn to leave, his hand drifts to rest on her lower back and it sends a little shockwave through her, and a flush of warmth between her thighs. Knowing that they can actually do all the things she’s imagined is exciting and scary, and she wonders how long she can wait. Wonders how long she wants to.

———

He steals glances at every stoplight or stretch of straight road, basically any chance he gets to look away without causing an accident, to take in the stunning beauty in the passenger seat beside him. That little red dress hugs her curves in all the right places, the pale swell of her breasts peeking out and rising gently with each breath. He shifts in his seat, willing his dick to behave and not make him look like a sex crazed lunatic. Though he is pretty sex starved, so it wouldn’t be an entirely untrue assessment. Every bit of self control he’d mustered when they spent time together last year has worn thin, and though he knows that she is no longer off-limits, that doesn’t mean she’s ready to get physical. He would have waited forever for her, so what’s a few more days, or weeks. Months? He really hopes it’s not months.

They pull up in front of the restaurant and he jogs around to the passenger side to open the door for her before the valet can get there. She gives him a shy little smile when he offers his hand to help her out of the car, pulling her to stand in the small space between himself and the doorframe so that the front of their bodies are nearly flush. She tilts her face up towards him, her tall shoes still only bringing her to his shoulder. He lets his eyes fall to her mouth, which is bare of any lipstick but naturally pink and pouty. He could kiss her now and not smudge anything at all.

“Sir?” the valet interrupts, holding out his hand in request of the keys.

The spell broken, he gives over the keys and takes Scully’s hand, her slim fingers threading between his own as her thumb brushes against his palm, a secret acknowledgement of the moment they shared. He smiles to himself as he leads her to the front doors of Marcel’s, looking over to see her curious appraisal of the venue. She clearly hasn’t been here before, which makes him happy. They are led by the host to a small table near the window draped in white linens and she gives him a skeptical glance as he pulls out her chair.

“Are you always this chivalrous? Don’t set expectations you can’t live up to, Mulder.”

He chuffs a laugh. “I actually am, it’s not an act. I was raised in a very upscale, old money environment. I can also tell you which fork to use for each course, if you’re interested.”

She lifts her eyebrows in surprise, watching him curiously as he takes the seat beside her, not across. He doesn’t want an entire table between them.

“Really? Where was that?”

“Martha’s Vineyard,” he answers plainly, not ever wanting that to sound like something he’s bragging about. “What about you, where are you from?” He changes the subject as quickly as possible.

She makes a face. “Nowhere in particular. I was born in Annapolis but my father was in the Navy so we moved a lot. The place he was stationed the longest was San Diego so that area feels just a little bit like home, but we’ve also spent quite a bit of time on the East Coast. We lived in Japan for a bit when I was a baby, but I don’t remember it.”

The waiter comes by to take their drink orders and Mulder orders a bottle of red he assumes they’ll have without looking at the menu. He watches out of the corner of his eye as Scully opens her menu and her eyes expand in shock. She closes it quietly and waits for the waiter to leave before leaning towards him.

“Mulder,” she says very seriously, as though she’s about to deliver devastating news, “that bottle of wine is three hundred dollars.”

He leans further towards her so their foreheads nearly touch. “Scully,” he says in an equally serious tone, “I warned you I was going to go overboard.”

He watches her try to suppress a surprised smile as she leans back, eyeing him appraisingly. “You’re quite the enigma, Mulder. With your fancy country club upbringing and expensive taste in wine in contrast to aliens and worn down bachelor pads.”

“Worn down?” he says in mock offense, “Priscilla will be horrified to hear that you said that.” The full-toothed smile he gets in response makes his heart swell, even if he suspects it has more to do with the mention of Priscilla than his winning sense of humor.

Wine and water are delivered, and Scully tries to order the cheapest thing on the menu before he insists that she wants the surf and turf and she acquiesces with a pained look.

“I think you’ve mischaracterized who among us is the enigma, Scully,” he picks up after their menus are collected. “I’m not sure I’ve ever encountered another Navy brat brainiac babe who cuts up dead people for a living.”

“Really?” she asks, eyebrows furrowed as though this is surprising to hear. “I’ll have to invite you to our next chapter meeting.”

“You’re also funny, add that to your list of enigmatic qualities,” he retorts, and she shrugs demurely. “Speaking of enigmas, there was a case I did a little poking around on, about some suspicious deaths in a community of carnies. There was a sideshow act where a man who was tattooed head to toe in jigsaw puzzle pieces ate live animals. He was sometimes called The Conundrum, and other times he went by The Enigma.”

Her eyes light up at the mention of his old work. “Was this an x file?” she asks excitedly.

“Not technically, no. This was just a couple years ago so the files were closed, but every now and then I get a lead and take some time off work to run it down.”

Scully looks a little disappointed. “Have you ever tried to have the X files reopened?” she asks, taking a sip of her wine and making a little expression that he takes as her being impressed.

“Sure, especially at first. The people at the heart of these government-run conspiracies don’t want the files open again, but the main reason bureau leadership gives for now is that I don’t have a partner, and they won’t let me work on them alone.”

“Couldn't they just assign you a partner? I’m not a field agent, but I was under the impression they somewhat randomly pair people off.”

He smiles sheepishly. “In theory, yes. But I haven’t had much success with the partners I’ve been assigned in the past. One might say that I don’t play well with others.”

“I find that hard to believe,” she says with a skeptical look, “you strike me as fairly easy to get along with.”

“Maybe so, Scully, but there’s a significant difference you’re omitting,” he leans forward and lets the tips of his fingers brush her bare knee. “I like you.”

There’s that million dollar grin again. This night is going so much better than he possibly could have hoped.

———

She could not have possibly imagined how good it would feel to be with him and truly be with him. No boundaries, no barriers, no lines to walk between what’s acceptable for ‘just friends.’ They openly flirt and smile at each other all through dinner, casually touching an arm or a leg, holding hands briefly a few times. She feels like a giddy schoolgirl and can’t recall the last time she felt this happy. So when the waiter collects their dessert plates and drops off the bill, she feels a little wave of sadness that the night is coming to an end.

She knows that if she invites him to come up to her apartment, he will say yes. And she knows that if she does that, they will end up having sex. She would very, very much like to have sex with him. But she’s also worried that she’s rushing things and potentially ignoring possible red flags or other signs that they might not be compatible because she wants this to work so badly. She decides she’s not going to invite him up.

They stand on the curb outside Marcel’s, waiting for the valet to bring the car around, and she crosses her arms and shivers against the cool evening air. Mulder notices and slides his arm around her shoulders, rubbing his palm briskly over her upper arm. Not satisfied that he’s done enough, he then moves to stand behind her and opens his suit jacket, pressing his chest to her back as he wraps the jacket around her, folding them both up inside it. He’s warm and firm and she lets her weight rest against him, the back of her head tucked into the crook of his neck. She sighs contentedly, feeling safe and cared for. It’s a feeling she’s really missed, being single.

On the short drive back to her apartment, he slips his hand over the console to rest on the seat next to her, an invitation, and she presses her palm against his, feeling the ache of missing him before he’s even gone. He pulls up to the curb in front of her building and they don’t let go, looking at each other in the dim glow of the street lights.

“Can I walk you to your door?” he asks, and she feels a mischievous smile creep over her lips. She nods.

They walk slowly, hand in hand, through the front doors and up the elevator. When they arrive at her door, she unlocks but doesn’t open it, leaning her back against the frame instead.

“I had a really nice time, Mulder. Thank you,” she says, her gaze lingering on his hooded green eyes and that full bottom lip.

“Me too,” he replies with a shy smile, stepping forward and placing his fingertips cautiously on her hips.

Her pelvis tips toward him unconsciously, seeking out the contact she has every intention of denying herself for now.

“Can I...would it be okay if I kissed you?” he asks, his eyes on her mouth. She opens it reflexively, tilting her chin up further.

He seems to take that as his answer, dipping his head to meet her at her level, and the pillowy press of his mouth against hers feels like such a relief she sighs audibly. His fingers on her hips press more firmly in response, pulling her gently towards him, closer still. She puts her hands on his forearms and slides them up until her fingers are gently scraping through the hair at the nape of his neck, and she feels his tongue slip out to taste hers. One of his hands leaves her hip and she feels it flutter over the side of her neck, cupping her jaw gently as they kiss slowly, languidly, like they have all the time in the world. His thumb brushes over the front of her throat and it somehow feels more intimate than if he were touching her in a more private place. To touch her in a vulnerable spot, one that can hurt and even kill someone, but to do it so tenderly feels erotic and exciting, and she takes his lip between her teeth and bites down gently to encourage him. He emits a little groan and arches his pelvis towards her, the stiff ridge of his erection grazing her belly.

“Mulder,” she says between kisses.

“Mmmmm,” he says in response, brushing his lips over the corner of her mouth.

“I don’t...I think….we should probably say goodnight.”

He makes a little sound somewhere between a whine and a sigh, but pulls away from her.

“I just...I don’t want to rush this,” she says earnestly, holding both his hands in hers. “I want to do things right this time.”

He nods, pulling her into an embrace. She has that feeling again, like she could crawl inside his chest cavity and make a home there, though this time it’s accessorized with an erection pressed against her.

“Sorry about that,” he says without embarrassment, and she laughs.

“I’ll take it as a compliment,” she replies, pulling away and reaching for the doorknob.

“You really, really, should,” he retorts, and she opens the door, backing in slowly. Once she is fully inside and looking at him through the slim crack she’s wedged herself into as though she were trying to keep him out, he leans forward so his face is inches from hers. “One for the road?” he asks hopefully, and she nods.

He presses his mouth against hers, chastely, no tongue, and holds it there for a very long time. Long enough that she starts to feel her resolve cracking. She pulls away.

“Goodnight, Mulder,” she says in a sing-song voice, and he backs away from the door with a dopey smile.

“Night, Scully,” he replies, not leaving until after she closes the door. She knows because she watches him through the peephole as he stands there smiling like a fool before looking up and possibly thanking the gods. Finally, he leaves.

Goodnight indeed. It was such a good night.

#the x files #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #gillovny #msr #sculder #x files fanfic #alternate universe

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