#i went to my first real “party”/social gathering ever last night

[pxrplepolkadots]

🖖

[lixxen]

I Bet My Life (H.G Wells x Male!Reader)

H.G Wells x Male! Reader

So uh, hiya. This is for Time After Time. I haven't finished it yet, but I'm on episode 8 or 9. So uh, yeah, the ending is based off of what I wish would happen. I also chose the first H.G gif I found lol. So, sorry guys. That's the gif you get. Also didn't beta/edit this. rip

Sorry lads that its Male!Reader, I simply cannot function outside of my little gay pea brain sometimes. Yes this is based off of an Imagine Dragons song, shut up.

Anyways, I wrote this 3k word monstrosity in about an hour and a half based off of an idea I pitched to another writer.

For @neptuneswritingwork

Warnings: Angst, anxiety attacks(?)

--

It was late at night in the Wells’ Estate.

It wasn’t uncommon for H.G to call many people to his home at this time, but tonight felt different. It was raining and it had set a mood for the den. The friends inside were chatting quietly amongst each other, talking about their respective academics and news.

Watching from the side of the room was a single person, a male who was barely dressed for the occasion. Ever so slightly overdressed, as he never understood how to dress for this class and function. It took him years of interacting with H.G to gain the knowledge to interact with H.G’s colleagues.

The man brought his glass of some type of expensive whiskey to his mouth and took a long sip. The taste burned his tongue and the liquid lit his throat on fire as it went down. It felt almost as if the liquid had a distaste for him like most of the folks in the room. The man sighed as he sat the glass onto the fire mantle next to him.

The man loved H.G to death, but he never understood why H.G had the need to invite him to these parties. Only a few of H.G’s friends genuinely liked the man and got along with him. H.G always complained that the man wasn’t social enough and needed to get along with his friends. The man never openly disagreed, but he wished that H.G wouldn’t at least abandon him during these gatherings.

A soft knock at the door drew the man’s thoughts away from the party. He walked out of the small den and into the foyer. He waved the housekeep away with a small motion and a smile before he opened the door.

Behind the door stood Dr. John Stevenson; one of the only friends of H.G that genuinely enjoyed his presence.

“Y/n. I’m surprised to see you here.” John’s mouth turned from a straight expression to a genuine smile as he walked in. John put his hand on Y/n’s forearm and squeezed it lightly.

“Same for you, Dr. Stevenson. You’re late as always.” Y/n smiled back at John as he had sat his bad next to the door.

“Well, it is better late than not to show up.” John patted Y/n’s arm after he let him go.

Y/n shook his head and followed John towards the den, where H.G had rejoined the group once more. H.G’s face looked slightly strained as he was talking to Jamenson, but the second his eyes found Y/n his face relaxed. H.G then looked at John and laughed.

“Look who showed up!” H.G stood up and clapped once. “You’re soaking, John!”

“I am not that soaked, H.G.” John shook his head as H.G walked over to John and Y/n.

H.G stood close to Y/n, close enough where their arms brushed each other. Just enough for Y/n to be able to feel him.

“I’m guessing Y/n let you in?” H.G tilted his head towards Y/n but kept looking at John.

“Of course. He was delightful as always. I understand why you have him around all the time, H.G.” John spoke with a genuine smile that made Y/n happy. The other men in the room didn’t seem to agree with their expressions, but they did not say anything. “My friend, you were talking to me about your machine last night. Would you be so kind as to show me?”

H.G grinned at the mention of his time machine, which he and Y/n had been fussing over for the last few months. H.G would work on it for nights upon nights and Y/n would have to come to the basement to drag the man back into the real world. Y/n didn’t know if it would work or not. The science was there, but it was untested. It could all just be a dream that would be shattered the second they tested it.

“I would love to see your machine, Wells.” Jamenson stood up, prompting the other men to nod in agreement.

“Well, come along and I will show you.” H.G waved them along with him.

The group followed H.G down to his basement and H.G explained the machine to the lot of them. How the machine should work, the key that controlled the machine. The theoretics of it. Everything that Y/n had memorized by now.

A few of the men made jokes before heading back up; leaving John, H.G and Y/n in the basement. Y/n watched as John’s expression became odd. He had never seen John’s expression twist in such a way, especially when John thought no one was looking.

When John asked H.G what was stopping him from trying it, Y/n had felt an odd feeling in his stomach. Something was wrong and Y/n didn’t know how to explain it. He had felt this before, but not around John or H.G. It was odd and Y/n hated it.

The two men laughed at whatever they were saying and it snapped Y/n out of his thoughts. H.G and Y/n made eye contact and Y/n smiled at H.G. The three started to walk up the stairs together. Y/n could feel H.G’s hand on his back as they walked up. The small contact was all they could share while the other men were here. John knew of their activities behind closed doors, but he never spoke of them with them. Y/n knew that John knew, especially with the small looks that John gave to the two of them when they had thought no one was looking. Y/n always caught them and smiled back.

The three made it to the top of the stairs as the knock on the door came. H.G voiced how odd it was that someone would be knocking his late as he went towards the door. Y/n stepped a few feet away from the basement and John, stopping only when Scotland Yard stepped through the door. They had announced The Ripper had struck again and were doing searches.

Y/n bit his lip, feeling remorse for the woman who must have died merely hours ago. Y/n turned to say something to John but stopped as he opened his mouth. John was gone and the door was cracked. Y/n glanced around before turning back to the police. They had John’s bag and were opening it.

Y/n felt his heart skip a beat as the police showed a bloody knife.

H.G turned to Y/n and the basement door.

“Where’s John?” H.G asked.

“I don’t know. He just disappeared.” Y/n felt fear crawling over his skin. He had been close friends with The Ripper this whole time. He invited The Ripper into his own home and had dinner with him in intimate quarters.

H.G pushed past Y/n as the room erupted into chaos. Y/n turned to watch H.G disappear down into the basement. It didn’t click for a second as people around him were yelling. Them calling John’s name and H.G’s name filled his ears. Then it clicked.

The time machine.

Y/n lurched forward before he started to walk back down into the basement. Y/n took the steps two at a time, hoping that he would get down quick enough. Within a few seconds, he found out he wasn’t quick enough.

Y/n stopped at the bottom of the stairs, looking at the time machine. It was whirring away and slowly freezing over just like H.G had predicted. Within the machine sat H.G, who was looking back at him.

“NO!” Y/n lurched forward again, holding a hand out.

H.G yelled something that Y/n couldn’t hear. Y/n just saw H.G speaking from the other side of the glass before the frost covered it. Y/n made it a few steps towards the machine before it disappeared with a small blast. Y/n fell backwards, onto the ground, as it hit him.

Y/n sat on the ground, eyes wide.

Y/n blinked at the empty space in front of him before reality slowly crept in. Panic started to climb through his lungs, burning up his throat as it slowly closed. Y/n’s eyes started to tear up as he moved to sit on his knees.

“H.G…” Y/n whispered it and it came out broken. “Please don’t be gone.”

Y/n looked around the room and wiped his eyes.

The time machine was really gone. H.G and assumingly John was also gone. This means that it worked.

It worked.

That means that H.G and John were gone.

“NO!” Y/n screamed into the room. His voice cracked towards the end and he slammed his fists onto the ground.

What if they didn’t come back? What if H.G gets stuck in the future and cannot come back. What if the machine breaks and he cannot come back? What if H.G gets killed or captured? Forever stuck in the future against his will?

What if H.G decides he wants to stay in the future and not come back? Abandoning him in the past for him to pay for everything that they had created up to now. He could fall in love with some man or woman wherever he went and not want to leave them in the future; abandoning them like he had just done to Y/n.

Y/n’s eyes stung as his thoughts went wild. The different possibilities cemented their way into Y/n’s brain as he started to sob on the concrete floor. He couldn’t handle the idea that H.G would simply leave him in 1893 and not come home automatically, with or without John.

Hands came to Y/n’s arms and Y/n tried to push them off. He blinked as the tears kept blocking his view and he raised a hand to wipe his tears. He kept pushing the person off as they tried to help him get to his feet, which he started to stand on his own after a moment.

Y/n turned to see Mrs. Nelson, the housekeeper, trying to grab onto his arm as Scotland Yard stood on the stairs. The policemen were staring at him in confusion while the other guests were in shock. The guests then looked to Y/n, who was now holding back more tears.

“It worked.” Jamenson spoke up first. “Bloody hell.”

“What worked?” One of the policemen asked.

“The bloody time machine.” Another man spoke up. “John must have taken it first. Bloody maniac.”

Mrs. Nelson slowly brought Y/n up the stairs and the men moved out of the way.

“What’s his problem?” One of the policemen whispered just loud enough for Y/n to hear once they got to the top of the stairs.

“He, Wells, and Stevenson were good friends; he was closer to them than we ever were. If Stevenson is in fact The Ripper and if Wells and Stevenson are gone, his only form of family is gone.” One of the men responded.

“The poor man.”

-

Y/n stared blankly at the fireplace as Mrs. Nelson moved around the room.

It was day four, Y/n believed. He hasn’t been keeping track.

But H.G and John hadn’t come home yet.

Y/n hadn’t felt this way in years. Not since his late parents passed. Not since his wife had left him for another man. Not since his child hadn’t made it to birth. This was a cold feeling that made his fingertips numb. It spread slowly from his fingers and up into his elbows. It made him feel stiff and fake. Like nothing would be able to break his trance and bring life back into him.

Not even the warm tea that Mrs. Nelson would slowly put into his hands and slowly guide the first sip. Not the warm stew she prepared for him every night.

Only H.G coming back, maybe even with John, could fix the hollow and cold feeling that had come to occupy him.

Oh, how Y/n missed H.G dearly.

Y/n would never admit it out loud, but ever since H.G had taken Y/n into his arms and home he had been the happiest he had ever been. H.G had invited Y/n to stay with him for a bit while he was sorting out what to do with his life. Then it slowly turned from getting his life together to something else. It first started with small fleeting touches, the brushing of hands and quickly removing them once noticed. The touches soon came to be welcomed and invited. Then it slowly turned into finding each other’s rooms at night or finding H.G in the basement working on the time machine. Then it turned into small kisses and tender holdings. All things that couples would do.

Y/n sniffled as he thought it over.

This wouldn’t be the first time that H.G had disappeared from his life suddenly. But that was before they had come to this relationship. The two had gotten into an argument over the machine. H.G had come back two days later and apologized.

After that, the two had become an item unintentionally and had come this far. It was unfair that H.G had left him in 1893. Y/n knew that H.G had left in a hurry, but he should have brought Y/n with him.

Y/n didn’t want to be alone.

Y/n didn’t want to lose H.G.

-

Y/n didn’t know what the date was.

Mrs. Nelson had let guests come and go. Some of the men that were there that night came to tell Y/n that Stevenson’s name had been cleared. They simply believed that John couldn’t have done this. It simply didn’t add up to them.

Y/n hadn’t cared. He didn’t speak or look at them as they spoke. He just stared at the fire as it crackled. The heat against his face was barely keeping him awake and sane. The men gave up after trying to convince him to go, saying that H.G will either never come back or will come back eventually.

Still, he did not move.

Not until today.

There was a creak in the floor boards then a dull thud from below. Y/n blinked and slowly turned his head when he felt the thud. He looked down at the ground as he slowly frowned. It then clicked what it must be.

Pushing himself up, Y/n could feel every muscle in his body ache and burn from the lack of use. His body felt like it was on fire and being pierced by a million syringes. He stumbled to his feet, tripping over himself and catching himself on the coffee table. He groaned silently as he pushed himself up once again.

Ignoring the pain in his legs, Y/n ran towards the basement door. As he opened it, he could hear two voices from the bottom of the stairs.

H.G and John.

Y/n stumbled down the stairs, almost tripping over himself multiple times as he could see John and H.G standing in front of the time machine. Y/n stopped at the foot of the stairs to stare at the two. H.G’s eyes widened as they stared at each other.

Anger and happiness bubbled up from his stomach, filling him in a violent concoction of emotions. It felt like his soul had finally returned to his body and he was breathing after drowning.

“H.G.” Y/n teared up and stumbled towards H.G, who was finally grinning at him.

“Y/n!” H.G held out his arms and caught Y/n in his arms. “I am so sorry, my love.”

Y/n started to cry, hiccuping as he leaned into H.G’s arms.

H.G was real. He was solid and warm. H.G was ever so slightly shaking as he held Y/n close to him. Y/n was gripping onto the back of his jacket. The jacket smelled weird and oddly like lavender. Y/n felt H.G’s hands petting his head as he whispered sweet things into his ear. H.G pressed his lips into the side of Y/n’s head.

Y/n looked up to H.G, whose hands slowly slid to hold Y/n’s cheeks in his palms.

H.G had small cuts across his face and looked like he had seen hell. His face was also clean shaven, which was very odd to see. But it was still the same H.G.

“Why would you leave me?” Y/n hiccuped. H.G brushed a tear from Y/n’s cheek and shook his head. “I thought you wouldn’t come back for me.”

“Please forgive me for all I've done, my love.” H.G’s voice was quiet and soft. He had a saddened look on his face. “I didn't mean to leave you like this. I had ran after John in a split second decision and missed you every single second I was away. I would never leave you for anything, my love.”

Y/n’s body shook as a small laugh bubbled up. H.G gave Y/n a small smile.

“You wouldn’t?” Y/n tried to blink away the rest of his tears.

“Never, my love. I will always come back for you.” H.G kissed Y/n’s nose. “I would bet my life for you, my love. Anything to see you again.”

H.G pressed his forehead to Y/n’s and Y/n closed his eyes. He couldn’t be happier that H.G was back and wouldn’t leave him.

“I love you, H.G.” Y/n whispered and opened his eyes again.

H.G looked Y/n in the eyes and smiled before kissing Y/n.

“I love you too.”

[ptergwen]

sensation

w/c: 4.6k

warnings: some swearing, suggestive tings, and a pretty bad ending

summary: it’s the last night of your world tour, and tom has the perfect way to celebrate

a/n: i know y’all have been waiting for this one! everyone really loved when worlds collide but i ran out of ideas for it lol sorry... anyways my solution was to turn it into a oneshot :D based off the au!! i’m honestly nervous about posting this cuz a lot of you asked for it and i don’t wanna disappoint but i tried my absolute hardest to make it special <3 please enjoy

-

“thank you so much! we love you!” you shout to the audience, laughing breathlessly when they shout back. one of your dancers pulls you into a side hug, you throwing your arm around his neck. “we’re so fucking lucky you chose us, that you came all the way here. i’ve seen some of you back at night one. wow.” your voice gets wobbly, thinking about how loyal your fans are.

the tour started in new york, and they’ve followed you here to london.

tonight is an emotional night for everyone. you’re about to wrap your last show before you continue again in the summer. touring the u.k. has been a dream, and you’re just as thrilled to travel the rest of the world after your break. it’s bittersweet because you’re going to miss the hell out of your crew and the millions of lovely faces you’ve sang to each week. but, you do get to spend your time off with a special someone.

he’s watching you from the sound booth, sending fond smiles and loud cheers your way. thanks to you, tom has been at every show you’ve played in england. he brought harry along this time because he’s also a fan and wanted to see you. well, tom is more than a fan at this point. you’d say he’s more of a boyfriend. you haven’t discussed labels just yet.

your dates have mainly been over facetime, since you live on opposite sides of the world with insane schedules. a heartthrob actor and international popstar is quite the combination. you’ve only seen each other in person a couple of times, the first being pretty recently.

zendaya brought tom along to hang out with you in los angeles. he happened to be there recording some lines for a movie. she saw your concert earlier that night and invited him to crash the dinner plans you’d made, resulting in the best surprise and most fun you’ve ever had. the other time you enjoyed each other’s company was one weekend in paris. that was... something.

besides those two miracles, everything between you and tom happens through a screen. you’ll down bottles of champagne or keep warm under blankets while talking about your days. it’s nice, having someone on the other end who listens and actually hears you. tom gets it. you both do.

finishing your tour in london is convenient because not only will you have tom to comfort you, but you get to stick around for a while. he’s invited you to stay at his place. you can’t wait to meet the other holland’s, his friends, and obviously tessa.

“fuck, i’m gonna cry. i’m already crying,” you announce to the crowd, though they can tell from the tears streaming down your face. more dancers huddle around you and turn your single hug into a group one. you’re laughing and sobbing and holding on tight to everyone. fans bawl their own eyes out, the fact that this is it starting to settle in. the onstage crew even gets choked up, seeing you like this.

tom pouts from where he’s watching. he wishes he could run up there and squeeze you tight, but he’ll have to save that for when you’re done.

“i love you all so much, literally every single one of you in this room,” you tell everyone for the nth time tonight, swiping a perfectly manicured finger under your eyes. “my lighting crew, sound crew, my band, my fearless fucking dancers-“ a hiccup cuts you off. people burst into fits of giggles, which is a much needed tension breaker. you adjust your headset so the mic doesn’t pick up any other bodily noises.

grinning, you rest your arm on a shorter dancer’s shoulder, then go on. “sorry, sorry. i just wanna say, like, three more thank you’s before i get out of here.” there’s a chorus of no’s and encouraging whistles at the mention of you leaving. you blink back more tears to delay the breakdown you’re going to have. “thank you to my friends who always show up for me.”

with a knowing smile, you glance over at tom. “and, thank you to my more than a friend.” he smiles back, both hands held over his heart. harry elbows him in congratulations. more screaming erupts from the crowd as they realize where you’re looking and who you’re looking at. this will be sure to spark some headlines. whatever, you’re used to trending on every possible social media platform by now.

“this is the big one,” you preface, taking in a breath while everyone quiets down again. “thank you to you guys. for trusting me, for caring about what i have to say in any way. i feel your love. i really do, and i hope you feel mine.” your fans yell that they love you back, dancers gently swaying you side to side, emotions on high. there’s one last song, and it’s over.

“this has been the sensation tour, and i’ve been your host. was i good?” you try to lighten the mood, earning a bunch of what sound like positive shrieks. the earpiece you have in makes it hard to tell. “y’all were even better.” exchanging looks with your dancers, you pull out of the hug so you can get to your mark for the finale. they follow your lead. music comes through the speakers.

“i’ll see you again soon, okay? i promise. here’s sensation,” you introduce the song, immediately bursting into more tears. it’s torture to say goodbye. thankfully, you have the most incredible fans on earth, so they sing along with you at the top of their lungs. that includes tom and harry, your ultimate stans.

when the show is over, you run right off stage and over to tom. he’s waiting on the side with actual heart eyes for you. you practically leap into his arms, a hand cradling the back of his head, both his arms draped low and tight around your body.

“you were so amazing up there! absolutely smashed it, darling,” tom breathes out. his face is smushed between your neck and mostly bare chest. “thanks, tom. seriously, thanks for being here tonight and every other.” you smile a tired smile and wind your other arm around his neck. he presses some light you’re welcome kisses to your skin. “mm, thanks for having me. how’s it feel to be done?”

you sigh, fingers running through his curls. “like the biggest relief, and also really sad.” you’re such a mess that you could cry again on the spot. tom senses it and lifts his head up to see if you’re alright. “super depressing,” you surprisingly reiterate without the waterworks. “i know the feeling. you’ll be back soon, though. you said it,” he murmurs, a grin on his lips as they brush against the corner of yours.

you’re about to kiss him properly, then one of your dancers comes up to you. you’d forgotten that there are still stage managers and security everywhere, too. you get completely lost in tom whenever you’re together.

“you killed, babe,” coco greets you, linking your arm in hers. tom takes the hint and lets go of you. he watches on with a smirk. “nah, you murdered,” you send the compliment back and bite your lower lip. “i dunno, i feel like someone murdered me!” there’s coco with her dramatics. she’s genuinely hilarious, your shared sense of humor playing a huge part in your friendship.

she brings your free hand to her heart. you gasp at how fast it’s going. “that shit is really beating, coco. are you, like, okay?” “probably not. it was the freestyle that got me.” coco went a lot harder than usual tonight, since it was her last big dance break for a while. she puffs air from her cheeks and nods to tom. “this your man?”

“yeah, you could say that. i’m tom,” he answers, holding out a hand for her. “coco.” she pulls it like you would in a handshake. you beam at them, one of your best friends and unofficial boyfriend finally meeting. “sounds promising. i approve,” coco mutters to you. bumping your hip into hers playfully, you take one of tom’s hands in both of yours.

“aw, we have your blessing or something? your permission?” you coo and get a push at your shoulder from coco in return. tom chuckles, his thumb running over the back of your hand. “no! i was gonna say you should bring him out back,” coco clarifies, like it was obvious. you’re not sure what she’s on about. “uh, what’s out back?” you question. “an axe?” tom teases.

coco gestures to the nearest exit. “we’re having a little goodbye party in the parking lot. fire pit, snacks. remember?” nope, you’d completely forgotten. the idea first sounded like the perfect way to end your night, so you agreed to go. that was before you were dripping sweat and mentally exhausted. now, all you want to do is unwind with tom and tom only.

the superstar life is one you’re happy to lead, just not at this exact moment.

“i do now.” you muster up your most apologetic smile for coco, tugging on tom’s hand. “i’m sorry, co. i think we’re gonna pass.” her jaw drops. you’re never one to skip these things. “aw, for real? it’s our last night!” tom threads his fingers through yours while you talk. “bro, we’ve been together for almost a whole year,” you laugh out, nuzzling your cheek into tom’s chest. “get sick of me.”

“never,” coco deadpans. she catches you gazing up at tom, relaxing as his arms hug your middle. she’s known you long enough to tell what’s a fling and what’s real love for you. this is something special, and she can’t get in the way of it. she’ll let you navigate this yourself. “ok, just for tonight. you’ll text me?” coco gives you a real smile, raising an eyebrow at tom. he gathers that’s a good thing. he’s in.

“mhm. maybe we can hang out tomorrow,” you agree and let your eyes flutter shut. all that’s keeping you up are tom’s strong arms. “tell everyone i love them.” “i think they know.” coco shakes her head lightheartedly. tom laughs at her. “be good,” she tells him and means it, rubbing your back on her way to the lot. that leaves you and tom alone at last.

custodians are cleaning up the arena, fans are piling out, and you’re clinging to tom while his steady heartbeat grounds you. this is the only after party you need.

“harry’s got the car when you’re ready,” tom mumbles, tucking a piece of damp hair behind your ear. you loop your arms around his torso with a hum. “i was kinda wondering where he went.” “yeah?” he gives you a small smile. “gotta ask what he thought... of the show.” yawns are creeping past your lips, tonight’s events catching up to you.

“i like feedback from the fans, or stans,” you elaborate in your sleepy state. tom uses his fingertips to tap your temple. “what about me? i’m your biggest.” “i’ll, um, follow up with you later.” your words are slurring. “right now, home.” warmth spreads throughout tom’s entire body, his house becoming yours for a bit. “your chariot awaits,” he affirms before helping you to your dressing room.

after collecting your things, you follow tom out to the car. harry is in the driver’s seat, and you two slip into the back. he exchanges a look with his brother through the mirror while you settle on his shoulder. you’re hugging his bicep, his lips pressing to the side of your head.

“thank you for driving,” you speak softly to harry. he starts to pull out of the spot with a nod. “no problem. get to say i was y/n y/l/n’s chauffeur.” tom clicks his tongue even though harry is joking. you snicker at his remark, joking back. “you want the job? better be a five star ride, then.” your banter brings yet another smile to tom’s face. his family is everything to him, so seeing you get along so well means the most.

“right, right. did you have a good time?” harry wonders, twisting to see behind him while he turns around. he also peeks at you snuggled up to tom before facing forward. “great, actually. did you?” you check, the grin clear in your voice. harry goes into full stan mode. “no shit! you were brilliant, y/n. god, every note was just like how you did it the studio.” he’s raving, which is much appreciated by you.

“good answer.” tom shoots his brother a wink. “‘s that what you wanted to hear?” he asks in reference to your conversation earlier. your response is a kiss to his shoulder. “yay. i’m happy you liked it, harry.” he buzzes with excitement, having his favorite artist care what he thinks.

not much is said for the rest of the drive. tom and harry make some hushed conversation about golfing this weekend while you struggle to stay awake. they’re obsessed with that damn sport. it’s honestly nice to see, that tom has something he likes to do when he isn’t shooting hollywood’s biggest movies. your free time will finally give you the chance to discover other hobbies.

you stumble out of the car upon arriving to the boys’ place, a backpack on your shoulders and tom’s hand held tight in yours. you’ve got only a few essentials with you for tonight. the rest is on the tour bus, so you’ll gather it after your hangout with coco. besides, everything you need at the moment is right here.

“home sweet home,” tom announces as harry unlocks the front door. his words bring a tired smile to your face. “finally,” you exhale, keeping your fingers laced with tom’s and following the two of them inside. “i could show you around a bit, give you the grand tour. or-“ tom stops talking, feeling your weight on him. harry huffs at how oblivious his brother is.

“mate, she’s falling over. save it,” he suggests and kicks the door shut lazily. you’re done in. you’ve been having to lean on tom since the show ended. “another time, then,” tom mumbles, securing his arm around your waist. “there is one thing i wanna see.” your voice is low, body curled into tom’s side. he raises an eyebrow. “and that is?” “your room.”

tom takes that in a suggestive way, like he does most things. “we’re getting right to it, are we?” he questions, harry gagging and you nudging his arm with your head. “not like that, dummy. ‘cuz i’m sleepy.” there’s a beat of silence. “ask me again in-“ “wow, look at the time!” harry interrupts so he doesn’t have to hear the details. he’s sure he’ll witness enough after it happens. “off to bed i go! goodnight.”

he rushes to get to his room, yelling out, “great show, y/n!” on the way. “thank you! night!” you call back, tom letting out a sigh. “div of the century,” he says under his breath. “must run in the family,” you playfully retort. that gets you a firm poke at your side. “where’s everyone else?” you glance up at him. there should be two other idiots and a lovely, furry lady running around.

“tuwaine’s gone to the pub, harrison’s filming late, and tess is at mum and dad’s,” tom fills you in, grabbing your arm and draping it around his middle. doing him one better, you hug him with both. you squint in confusion about the last part. “they watch her when i’m out,” tom answers your unspoken question. “ah,” you nod, then deflate ever so slightly. “i wanted to meet her, though. the other boys, too.”

tom smooths the pad of his thumb over your cheek. “you will, darling. it’s only for tonight.” he kisses the same spot reassuringly. “we’ve got loads of time.” “yeah, we do,” you agree, instantly cheering up and letting your head fall onto his chest. “now, where’s your room?” “just upstairs. you need some help getting in?” he’s only playing around, but you accept, tightening your arms around his neck.

“show me the way,” you beam at him. “happy to.” tom wiggles his eyebrows, you jumping up. your legs wrap around his waist, his arms holding you against him. with a satisfied hum, you squish your face into his insanely soft shirt. “what a diva,” tom sarcastically complains while taking you to the staircase. “doesn’t even say please. no manners from this one.”

“you try dancing in six inch heels for two hours,” you shoot back, patting the side of his neck. he moves one hand down to your thigh for a better grip. you’re nearing the top of the stairs. “think i’ll leave that to you,” he decides and squeezes your thigh. “look at me, carrying the whole music industry.” your face easily gets hot and your words turn to murmurs. “shut up. you should listen to other songs.”

you’re on the second floor now, tom going for the first door. he frowns at his rejected compliment. “no, i like yours. they’re my favorite.” “really?” your muffled laugh sounds from his chest. “what was the first thing i ever said to you?” he asks, a toothy grin on him even though you can’t see it. you recall the faithful night he slid into your dms while he carries you into his room.

he’d tripped over his words somehow, the fangirling fool. before that, he tweeted to the whole world that he wanted to see you in concert. it was a huge thing, and people were freaking out about it, even more so when your online interactions became routine. that’s nothing compared to where you are now.

you’re currently living with him and basically dating. possibly, in love. the base of it all really is your music.

“that you love me.” you pause for the ellipses. the corners of your lips turn up. “but, you really meant to say my work.” “both apply.” tom passes that off like it’s a side comment, carefully laying you down on his bed. you look up at him with a curious glint in your eyes. “what does that mean?” his cheeks flush, and he bites back the smile that’s growing. this was supposed to go... differently.

you sit up, breathing out a laugh at tom’s boyish behavior. he’s precious, truly. “you do love me?” those three words will change everything if he says yes. he takes both your hands in his and holds them between you two. you meet his doe eyes. “yeah, y/n/n. i do.” so, you were right. “i love you... and, that wasn’t how i planned on saying it.” signaling for him to elaborate, you tilt your head to the side.

tom sits down next to and faces you before continuing. “it was supposed to be romantic, right?” he rolls his eyes up to the ceiling, annoyed he ruined this. “candlelit dinner, flowers, that sort of thing. seems more fitting for the occasion.” you shift closer to him until your knees are touching. your face is lit up, voice dropped to almost a whisper.

“since when do we do things the way we’re supposed to?” you point out and set your hands on his shoulders. “we’ve gone straight from online dating to me moving in. that’s usually not how it works.” tom chuckles lowly. his own hands find their place on your hips. you’re so good with words. then again, you are a singer. “guess you could say we’re, um, spontaneous,” he agrees, fingers drawing circles on you.

you and tom have explored some of each other’s most intimate places, yet you’ve never shared a moment quite like this. it’s like meeting him for the first time again. he’s too tongue tied to spit out what he wants. you somehow know, anyway. what you cherish most about your relationship is that you two completely and totally understand one another, on every level.

“tom?” you speak quietly, butterflies filling up your body. “hm?” he hums back. this is one of those moments where it all just clicks. “i love you. i really, really love you.” you giggle out of the pure happiness that consumes you, tom joining in your laughter. “i love you, too.” he sounds like he’s said it a million times and he’ll say it a million more. he leans over so his forehead rests on yours. “really, really love you.”

your warm breath hits his face, eyes darting from his own to his lips. “i want you to be more than...” you trail off, unsure of how to phrase it. “more than... more than a friend?” tom pokes fun at what you said during the show. there’s less and less space between you with every second. “you mean, like, a boyfriend?”

“exactly. be my boyfriend,” you all but demand. you’re half asleep and desperate to be able to call him yours already. “bossy, bossy, bossy,” tom chastises, swiping his thumb across your bottom lip. how he goes from being shy and giddy to the cockiest person alive in minutes, you’ll never know. “please?” you throw in to sway him. your hand locks with his, slowly moving it off your face.

you run your tongue over your teeth. “at least kiss me.” “you don’t have to ask,” tom breathes, lips now ghosting over yours. “i was going to.” true to his words, he closes the microscopic gap between you, you pushing forward against him as you kiss back. your first kiss in love. his lips taste like the chapstick he always uses, and he moves them softly.

he places a hand on your knee, you opening your mouth so he can have access to it. instead, a yawn exits. tom pulls back with a breathy laugh. “you must be exhausted, yeah? let’s get you to bed.” he pecks your lips once more. “my girl needs her beauty rest.” that confirms your relationship. you scrunch your nose and grin wide. “and, she’s gonna get some with her boy.”

you’re reminded of how sweaty you are when you catch a whiff. “oof, wait. do you think i can take a shower first?” you grimace, fanning at the air for emphasis. tom uses the tip of his nose to nudge yours. “absolutely. need help in there, too?” he’s not asking in that way, only so nothing happens. the hospital wouldn’t be the most pleasant place to spend your break. plus, he doesn’t want to be without you too long.

“you know what? yeah.”

that’s how you end up intertwined under the hot water, letting it cascade down your back as tom hugs you close to him. you sigh in content and tangle your fingers in his fluffed over curls. you’ve learned that he���s super into having his hair played with. it’s endearing, how he instinctively leans into your touch, eyes closing as you tug on the roots.

he drops his head down to kiss your shoulder, dragging his lips to your collarbone in a way that tickles. they land on one of your breasts next. there isn’t anything sexual about it, only loving. just in case he gets too excited because it’s not uncommon he does, you gently put a finger to his lips. tom takes the hint and lets up. you continue combing through his wet hair while you step out of the water.

“do you ever sing in the shower?” he questions, drawing your naked body in closer to his. “sometimes, yeah. i honestly feel like i sound better there,” you admit and slide your hand down to the nape of his neck. tom’s tongue darts out to lick his lips. “not true. you sound beautiful everywhere, and don’t fight me on this one.” he smirks in satisfaction, you groaning at your loss.

“i really enjoy hearing your voice when it blares through an arena, though,” tom keeps buttering you up. you shake your head and settle both arms around his neck. “man, i just love you so much.” “i love you, sweetheart,” he murmurs back, you switching places so he can give his hair a final rinse. you watch him and his glowing body, admiring the sight.

“what a sensation you are,” you say mostly to yourself, which doesn’t stop him from hearing. “i see what you did there.” he eyes you while you do the same to him. your arms still around his neck pull him back to you. “tommy? do you sing in the shower?” you meant to ask him before, then he started throwing all those compliments at you.

tom scoffs, walking you back so you’re against the wall. “i don’t sing anywhere.” “what?” you gasp and put a hand on his chest. “you’re lying, you have to be. wasn’t billy elliot a musical?” he narrows his eyes at you as he tries to gage where you’re going with this. “that i did a decade ago, and way before puberty. couldn’t sing a word without cracking after that.”

your mouth is left hanging open in shock and disappointment. you bet he has a nice voice, and he’s downplaying it. “y/n,” tom begins, cupping your jaw with his palm. “since we’re living together now, there’s a lot you’re going the learn about me. good things, weird things.” he shrugs casually. “this is one of the weird things.”

“only because you make it weird! come on, let me hear you,” you request and wrap a leg around his waist. you’re giving him a hopeful smile. “god, no. you’ll hate it,” he almost laughs, a hand on your thigh. “i’m literally a singer. how could i hate something i love?” you refute, batting your lashes at him. “especially when someone i love is doing it.” “i love you, too. but, i’m not.” he’s quick to shut you down.

“drop a bar!” you try to coax him, which he already has a comeback for. “you first.” “i can’t. my throat is all scratchy from earlier,” you lie. tom presses his lips into a line, feigning pity. “aw, you know what’ll make you feel better? tea. i’ll go get you some.” he turns to shut the water off, so you grab his shoulders. “no, the steam is working. you can stay.”

“love,” tom addresses you in a warning tone that you can’t take seriously. he can’t either, a giggle escaping him. “my voice is shit. ask anyone, and they’ll tell you.” “i won’t believe them,” you hum, pushing back curls sticking to his forehead. “sounds like you just have stage fright. we can work on that, though.” “how?” he tightens his arm around your middle.

“i’ll bring you on for my next show. we’ll do a little duet.” you’re joking, though that would definitely be interesting to see unfold. “uh, never. what happened to you being tired?” tom cleverly deflects and digs his fingers into your side. you look down in defeat. “i forgot about that.” “yeah, yeah. no, seriously. we should really get to sleep, y/n/n.” he’s back to his sweet, attentive self. “‘s been a long night.”

giving in with a nod, you capture his lips in yet another kiss. tom never gets tired of them, and neither do you. you break it after a few seconds, lips lingering on his as they detach. “carry me?” you ask again, not caring how whiny you sound. tom presses a quick kiss to your forehead. “oh, you’re adorable. of course.”

well, you’ve found something to keep you occupied until the next leg of tour. you’re going to discover the many layers your intriguingly unusual boyfriend has.

[theoswriting]

fault line [part. i]

summary: To y/n, freedom feels like wind in her hair, sounds like old school rock'n'roll and tastes like Elle's lips. From the fire in front of them comes warmth. With every passing second, bloodied clothes burn beyond the point of recognition.

pairing: elle greenaway x fem!reader

a/n: uhm okay, this totally got out of hand. from that request, my brain went crazy and I ended up having to cut it into two, so this is part 1. Hopefully I'll post part 2 in a couple of days. I feel weird about this story, but I hope you'll enjoy it at least a tiny bit, haha.

warnings: mentions of rape and sexual abuse (nothing graphic), murder but it's pretty lowkey, sociopathy?, bad profiling, 

ao3

Jennifer Jareau's steps are hurried when she walks from her office to Hotchner's. 

She can feel the eyes of Prentiss, Morgan and Reid following her as she crosses the bullpen. She ignores them, the files she's holding in her hands are far more important. She doesn't wait for an answer after she knocks, not caring that she's interrupting Hotchner in the middle of a phone call. 

Hotch doesn't startle at the irruption, and when he sees the urgency in the liaison's eyes, he doesn't hesitate before saying, "I'm afraid I'll have to call later," to whoever was on the other side of the line. 

"We have a bad one."

***

To y/n, freedom feels like wind in her hair, sounds like old school rock'n'roll and tastes like Elle's lips.

Elle's hand rests on y/n's thigh as she drives with the other, sunglasses covering her eyes as she stares at the road straight ahead. There's a strength in the way she holds the steering wheel, getting them to their next destination with nothing but confidence. As she looks her over, y/n feels a familiar spark wake inside her. It makes her lean towards the driver's side to drop a long kiss on the corner of Elle's mouth. 

Elle doesn't hesitate to turn her head and make it a real kiss, the kind that always leaves y/n breathless and wanting more. When Elle leans back to focus on the road again, the car has swerved to the other side of the road and Elle brings it back to the right lane. 

Not that it matters. It's been hours since they had passed another car, not  a lot of traffic in the middle of the Nevada desert. And if they were to drive off the road, what a way to go, y/n thinks. She'd happily die twice if it meant dying with Elle kissing her with all the love and passion in the world. That'd probably be the only way y/n would ever make it to heaven. 

For now, she leans her head on Elle's shoulder and sighs contentedly at the kiss her girlfriend drops on her temple. 

"I think we can stop soon," y/n says after seconds, "We're far out enough, and I really need to stretch my legs."

It's barely fifteen minutes later when y/n finally gets to use her legs after being in the car for so long. As she stretches, Elle stands beside her, drinking from a water bottle. She passes it to her and y/n thanks her. The heat of the desert is heavy around them, but y/n barely feels it. 

The warmth comes from the fire in front of them, small and controlled. 

With every passing second, bloodied clothes burn beyond the point of recognition. 

***

"LAPD called me this morning for a consultation on two cases they suspected might be connected."

Everyone looks at the files as JJ begins presenting the case. 

"First victim, Matthew McGregor, 36, was killed with a single gunshot wound to the head a year ago after he came home from a party," She explains, "Second victim, Eric Laurens, 28, two days ago, same M.O., single GSW to the head coming home from a party."

JJ sees Derek nod slowly as he reads over the information again, "Seems pretty clear to me that they're connected."

Emily hums in agreement, "And both had gotten arrested on rape charges, but weren't convicted, prior to their deaths."

"A vigilante?" Rossi theorises out loud. 

"There's more," JJ sighs as she clicks on the remote. Five more men appear on screen, a picture from their driver's license and one from a crime scene, "LAPD aren't the only ones who called about similar cases."

Spencer frowns at the screen, "Wyoming, Illinois, New York, these are from all over the country," he observes. 

"Yeah" JJ nods, "And the oldest murder goes back to 2007, the most recent being Eric Laurens two days ago."

"That's seven victims over the last 3 years," Derek observes and that's when Hotch gets up to stand next to JJ.

"Seven that we know of," He says, "We might have a transient serial killer in our hands. We'll be flying out to LA to see what we can learn from the most recent crime scene. I've already asked Garcia to look for unsolved murders with a similar M.O. all over the country, we'll debrief more on the jet. Wheels up in 20."

Without another word, all the agents leave the room to gather their belongings and get to the plane that'll take them to their case. 

***

After being together for almost four years, y/n and Elle had settled into a routine. It was inevitable, y/n guessed, that after so much time together. Some things were bound to become repetitive. 

Elle always takes the left side of the bed, while y/n prefers the right. Elle always cooks if they want their food to be edible, and y/n always cleans up. When it comes to coffee, though, y/n always makes it, Elle's always coming out too strong for both their tastes. When it comes to work, Elle excells at planning while y/n handles the social part.

Their routine is rooted in balance though, and y/n loves the way they compliment each other.

y/n lures the men, Elle shoots them. 

She worries sometimes. She worries that their lives are getting boring, that they have settled into this routine too comfortably and forgotten how to surprise each other. 

"Mmmh," y/n feels Elle stretch next to her, "G'morning."

Her worries never last very long. How could they, when all y/n has to do is look at Elle to realize that there is no way she's ever falling out of love with the woman. 

"Good morning," She replies, getting closer to her girlfriend to drop a kiss on her lips. Elle hums contentedly into the kiss and y/n can't help the grin that takes over her features. When Elle leans back, she keeps her eyes closed and settles back into her pillow and y/n bites her lip as she watches her. 

"We need to go soon," Elle mutters.

y/n quickly agrees, even though she's pretty sure no one is on their tails. They can never be too careful. Never stay in a place too long if you don't want to get trapped. They'd stopped in a random motel for the night, paid in cash, left most of their stuff in the car, ready to take off at any time. 

It was the way things always were the days that'd follow one of their… projects.

Some would consider this lifestyle tiresome. y/n, however, thinks she's the luckiest person in the world. In the last four years, she's travelled through the country and seen the most beautiful sights with the woman she loves by her side. Sure, they have a job to do, but it's never really felt like a job to y/n. She's always heard that people weren't supposed to enjoy their jobs, that's always what grownups had complained about when she was a kid. 

And y/n? Well, she enjoys her job very much. 

***

Reid stares at the board in front of him. He's just put up all the information they have so far and it's… a lot. 

Or rather, there's very little useful information, but many, many, victims. Garcia has managed to find an overwhelming number of unsolved cases with a similar modus operandi: men, killed by a single gunshot to the head on their way home from a party, all previously accused of rape or sexual misconduct. 

They are up to 32 possible victims on top of the 7 they started with, from all over the country. That number only keeps going up the longer Garcia keeps looking. 

By now, they are pretty sure all these cases are connected, even though no evidence connects them directly to each other. Even ballistics couldn't link the different shootings. 

They're missing something. Spencer only wishes he knew what that was. 

On the jet, they'd all agreed on a few things concerning the preliminary profile. Their unsub was most likely highly intelligent and had military or law enforcement training. It was most probably a man in his mid-thirties, carrying out his own justice after the system failed him or someone close to him. He was organized, evident by the lack of clues left behind. Whoever the unsub was, he might even have stalked his victims prior to the crimes. 

It sounds right on paper, but something is missing. Spencer knows it. 

Something is missing.

***

y/n's hand is wrapped around a cup of coffee as she sits on the patio of a little shop. Her sunglasses are small, barely protecting her from the rays coming from the sun above. It's almost noon.

The world is an ugly place. 

That statement had made its way into y/n's head years ago, laying roots, unmoving. With every stroke of her father's anger, with every touch of a man's hands, the roots dug deeper and deeper until they found their way to y/n's heart. The world held no justice for people like y/n. They didn't care about the bruises, the touching, the screaming for help, they never listened. 

She had learned a long time ago that if she wants something, she needs to do it herself. 

"How can you be married to someone like that?" Elle suddenly speaks up from next to her. 

When y/n looks at her, Elle's eyes are fixed onto the man they'd followed. He's at the restaurant on the other side of the street, right in front of the coffee shop. He's sitting with his wife, holding her hand and y/n tilts her head.

"Maybe she doesn't know."

Elle's eyes don't leave the couple, her face still contorted in disgust, "Then, we're doing her a favor."

It brings a smile to y/n's face. The way Elle's voice sounds resolute, confident. It's comforting. It reminds her that she's right to trust Elle, that Elle hates the world just as much as she does and that she'd gladly watch it burn with her. It makes her want to lean in and kiss her, but that would attract too much attention. Instead, she reaches out for her hand and brings it up to her lips. Elle shoots her a small smile, and y/n's heart warms.

It's impressive how a smile from Elle offers y/n a reassurance she hadn't even known she craved. It had always been her against the entire world, the only love she knew was the love she was willing to give to herself. That hadn't always been easy.

Then, she'd met Elle and she had shared a story so different from y/n's but the consequences of it felt familiar. It made sense that y/n had been drawn to her, the strength Elle exuded softened by the understanding y/n saw in her eyes each time she talked. 

The world was an ugly place, but Elle Greenaway makes it worth holding on for a little longer. 

***

"The body was found right where you're standing," Derek says as he looks back at Prentiss from a few feet ahead, "Which means our unsub must've been standing right here," He adds, pointing to the ground under his feet. 

He looks around him as Prentiss voices his exact thought, "There's no way he didn't see the unsub coming. There aren't any good hiding spots out here."

They're standing next to a fence, on the outside of a park, "The sidewalk is big, no trees, or parking allowed, so no cars to hide behind," Derek observes, "Which means our unsub is unsuspecting, someone the victims wouldn't consider a threat."

Emily nods and starts looking up, in search of camera surveillance. Two catch her eye, on the other side of the street and she points out to Derek with a raised eyebrow. Local PD hadn't found anything of use but they decide to call Garcia anyway. If anyone could find something, it was her. 

As Morgan talks to their tech analyst, Emily walks past him, then back, retracing the steps their unsub had most likely taken two nights ago. When she stops, she raises her hands, mimicking a gun and aiming at where the victim would've been standing. Whoever it is, they're a good shot which makes her think they were right in saying the unsub had some kind of firearm training. 

She sighs as she drops her hands down and puts them on her hips. As she looks around again, a thought crosses her mind, "Where did Mr. Laurens live?"

Derek who just hung up with Garcia wracks his brain to remember the address he'd read in the file, "He lived… three streets down, that way-" He points out to the direction their victim had supposedly been walking from and it dawns on him, "So why was he walking in the opposite direction to his home."

Emily nods, "And how did the unsub know they'd find him here."

"They followed him."

"Walked past him, turned around and shot him?" Emily asks as she walks back to stand where the body had been found.

"Or, he was lured out here," Derek speaks and Prentiss has to agree with him. 

"It's the perfect killing spot," She says pointing back at the cameras, "Even if Garcia gets anything from them, it'll be grainy at best, impossible to get a clear shot of our unsub."

Derek looks at the empty street, void of any passerbys, "Quiet street in the day, probably even quieter at night. Less risks to run into an unwanted witness."

"So if he was lured out," Emily says, "We need to figure out who he left that party with."

***

y/n stumbles slightly and giggles as a strong arm wraps around her waist and helps her stay upright. 

"Shoot, I'm such a klutz," She adds with a laugh and her companion replies in kind. 

His laughter grates on her nerves. It's too loud, resonating all around them and using up too much oxygen. She only has to walk with him a couple more minutes but even that feels too long. She feels his too big hand squeeze her hip and she feels anger spike inside her chest. She wants to hurt him. 

Deep breath. Clenched fist. One more minute. 

He's started talking again but y/n isn't listening. She's staring straight ahead to the street they're going to walk into where Elle will be waiting for them and the hand will finally fall from her hip. That's when you feel it, that spark you've come to call freedom. It's small but grows as you round the corner with him following you closely.

It starts burning under your skin when you spot Elle's silhouette further down the street.

The man next to you doesn't even take notice of her and isn't that ironic. He spent his life thinking of women as less than and y/n finds it befitting that what'll bring him to his end is the last woman he'll ignore. 

Elle raises her gun and with the sound of the gunshot ringing in her ears, y/n's whole body is set aflame. 

She watches as the hand lays limp next to his lifeless body and a gleeful laugh escapes her. The hole in his head oozes blood and she can't stop laughing. The hand is laying there unmoving and y/n feels the urge to step on it. 

Hurt him, hurt him, hurt him, hurt him like he hurt you. 

She's vaguely aware of Elle calling out her name but y/n doesn't snap out of it until a hand yanks her away from the body by the shoulders. She steps back, but slaps the hands touching her away. Only then does she realize that it's Elle looking at her, confusion in her eyes and something y/n doesn't want to ever see from her own girlfriend. 

Fear.

"We have to go," Elle announces slowly, like she's explaining it to a child, or a wounded animal. y/n doesn't know which comparison she likes best. She looks back at the body and regretfully nods.

They start walking away, hand in hand, but something inside of y/n doesn't feel quite right. The fire that had roared inside of her is long gone and she feels her body shiver at the cold. Elle notices and wraps an arm around her shoulders, dropping a kiss on her hair as they keep walking side by side.

She wants to smile but she can't manage it. 

He hurt her.

He was going to hurt Elle.

He hurt her.

***

"Laurens' friends say he left the party alone," Emily announces to the team as she sits down next to JJ in the conference room. At the same moment, Derek's phone starts ringing, attracting everyone's attention.

"Baby girl, tell me you have good news," Derek answers, putting his phone on speaker so everyone around the table can hear. 

"I wish, but no. The cameras on the street were of no use, it's a blind spot. I tried the cameras from neighbouring streets but got nothing. Whoever it is your looking for, they're like a ghost."

There's a collective disappointed sigh and shoulders sagging, and Garcia isn't done, "to make a bad day even worse, a body was just found in Twin Falls, same M.O."

Everyone visibly tenses at the news, Rossi speaking first, "Two kills in less than three days."

Hotch looks at JJ and before he can even say anything, she's out of her seat, "I'll call the local PD, tell them we're on our way."

Hotch nods his approval, turning his stoic gaze to the rest of his team, "Get your bags ready, we're flying out as soon as the jet is ready."

***

It is getting boring and y/n had been right to be worried. 

That's the first thing that crosses her mind as she wakes up next to Elle, hours later, in a nameless city in the middle of nowhere. 

Elle lays peacefully next to her, deep into slumber, and a smile stretches y/n's lips. She watches her girlfriend's chest rise and fall, her naked body barely covered by the sheets. It's a hot night, y/n can feel the sweat in her lower back making it uncomfortable for her to fall back asleep. As she gets up from the bed, Elle moves, getting closer to where y/n lay seconds ago, chasing the heat despite the already too high temperature. 

y/n lets herself watch her for a moment before walking to sit on the chair next to the window. There's nothing to look at, the motel they'd chosen is outside of the city and the lights are barely visible. It's dark, except for the slight light of the moon landing on the cars outside. 

She feels empty tonight. The thrill she'd felt hours ago hadn't lasted long and the only thing she could remember about it was the look Elle had thrown her way. 

Fear.

Elle had always looked at her with interest. From the moment they met, y/n had been drawn in by her hazel eyes. Something in her made her feel safe in a way she never had before and days after meeting her, she had told Elle about her unpleasant memories, how the world wasn't a nice place.

Elle had listened and, to y/n's surprise, agreed with the statement. Usually, whenever y/n told people about the ugliness of the world, they tried to make her see the parts that weren't so bad, try to make her see that some things, and some people were worth it. Elle hadn't done any of that, she had scoffed and agreed.

"Only person you can trust is yourself. The rest? Always leads to disappointment."

They had ended up in bed together soon after that, spent the night in each other's arms and imagining a world that'd be worth their time. 

Two days later, they had killed their first man together.

Their routine hasn't changed in nearly four years, and it used to be enough for y/n. She's the bait, easily transforming herself into whoever the men want to see in front of them. She pretends to be too drunk, unstable on her feet, asking for help to walk back to her place or her car, and the men never think twice before following her. 

Elle waits for them and then. She shoots. 

And it used to be enough for y/n to watch the proud look on Elle's face anytime she made a perfect shot. Smoking gun in hand and a confident smirk, y/n had never seen anything sexier in her entire life. 

What followed was always a passionate kiss and hurried hands, trying to touch every inch of skin. 

Earlier, y/n hadn't even kissed Elle, the only contact between them being the arm that Elle had thrown around her shoulder. 

y/n can feel that there's something not quite right. She feels it in her body, in the way her arms itch, in the way her chest feels a bit too empty for her too breath comfortably. 

y/n loves Elle, there's no way that has changed. She's sure of it. When she turns her head to watch Elle sleep, her heart flutters at the sight of her girlfriend curled up on the side of the bed that she had vacated. She couldn't see it, but she could picture her girlfriend's face, mouth slightly open if she were to believe the little snores she could hear. 

She is just bored of the routine. 

When she finally climbs back into bed with Elle, her girlfriend automatically drapes a hand over her waist. 

"Where did you go?" Elle asks sleepily, and y/n lays a kiss on her nose. It makes her scrunch up her face and that's the cutest sight she's ever seen. 

"Couldn't sleep."

Elle hums and goes back to sleep. y/n sighs and follows suit, not long after. 

***

"What's this, on the palm?" Morgan asks the M.E., pointing at the left hand of the victim where the skin seems slightly bruised.

The doctor on the other side of the autopsy table nods at Derek and Spencer, "His hand was broken post-mortem, although I'm having a hard time figuring out what broke it."

Reid leaned closer to the hand and frowned, "It looks like something was pushed from the palm to the other side."

Again, the doctor nods, but before she can say anything else, Reid suddenly stands up straight and looks over at Morgan, "I know what did this."

At that moment, Morgan's phone rings and upon seeing Hotch's name, he excuses himself to reply. When he comes back, his face looks somber.

"A man was killed not far from here, local PD just got the call. Hotch wants us to check it out, just in case."

[sfb123]

Quit Your Life

I am participating in @wackydrabbles​​ prompt # 80 “Stop looking at me like that.” which will appear in bold.

Song Inspiration: Quit Your Life - MxPx

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x MC (Riley Brooks)

Author’s Note: This story is a little something that popped into my head yesterday, and this weeks prompt fits in famously. It takes place toward the beginning of the social season, it pretty much follows canon, but it’s one of those ‘in between events/chapters’ moment.

Also, personal side note, the song inspiration is actually my wedding song, so it holds a very special place in my heart.

Word Count: 1,749

Rating/Warning: G - Romantic fluff, maybe one or two minor curse words.

“Please Riley? You have to come!” Maxwell begged.

Riley sighed and shook her head. “Max, is it an official social season event?”

“Well, no but...”

“Then I’m good.” It had been two weeks since Riley had arrived in Cordonia. Two weeks filled with balls, tea parties, etiquette lessons and meals packed with people she didn’t know constantly sizing her up. The only real time she had to herself was when she was asleep. So when she was told that they had a night off, she was excited to be able to lock herself away and turn off her brain for a few hours. Then Maxwell showed up and told her everyone was going to check out a new club in the capital and invited her to go along.

“Liam’s going to be there.” He raised an eyebrow thinking that may be just the thing to convince her to come.

There was a brief moment where that statement almost made her change her mind. Ever since she met Liam that night in New York, she had felt this connection with him. She couldn’t explain it, but she knew it was something worth exploring. Unfortunately, that also meant competing with several other women to win his hand. “So will all of the other suitors. They’ll be fawning over him all night, I won’t be able to get near him.”

Maxwell pouted, giving her the saddest puppy dog eyes he had ever given anyone.

“Stop looking at me like that. It’s not happening.” She crossed her arms over her chest, firm in her decision.

“Fine, I’ll go. But it’s not going to be as fun without you.” Maxwell lamented.

“I’m sure you’ll still have a great time. And I’ll tell you what, let’s have breakfast here tomorrow, instead of going downstairs with everyone else. You can give me the full recap.”

“It’s a date.” He pulled his friend into a tight hug, and made his way out the door.

A while later, after changing and getting herself comfortable, Riley was about to dig into the pizza she had ordered from a local restaurant, when there was a knock on her door. She placed the slice back in the box and stood up, leaving the comfort of the seat that had just molded perfectly to her body. “Max, I swear to god, my makeup is off and my sweatpants are on, I am not leaving this room.” She opened the door and her eyes went wide when they locked on to Liam’s.

Liam’s breath caught in his throat when he saw her. She was wearing baggy sweatpants and a tight tank top, her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, her fringe bangs framing her makeup free face. He already thought Riley was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, but seeing her like this, she was perfection. This could be the first thing I see every morning. He felt his heart beat faster at the thought.

“Oh Prince Liam! I’m so sorry, I thought you were Maxwell.” She curtsied. “He was trying to get me to go out to this club tonight. I’m sorry for my appearance, I wasn’t expecting company.” She stepped back and motioned for him to come in.

“No need to apologize, you look beautiful.” He caught the blush in her cheeks before she dropped her gaze to the floor, making him smile. She’s adorable. “You didn’t want to go out?”

“Nah, I needed a night to recharge. The past couple of weeks have been a lot.”

Liam’s face fell slightly. He was so glad that she was there, that she had traveled all this way for him. If she were to get too overwhelmed, would she leave? What if she didn’t think he was worth it? “I’m sorry to have bothered you. I’ll leave you to recharge.”

“No no, don’t go. I ordered a ton of extra food, you’re welcome to hang out for a bit.”

He noticed the pizza box and other containers spread out on the coffee table. “You ordered takeout?”

“Yea, what a pain in the ass trying to get food delivered to the palace! First it took me 15 minutes to convince the guy at the pizza place that it wasn’t a prank call. Then there’s the whole getting the delivery guy through security thing.” She plopped onto the couch, patting the seat beside her.

“You know we have a fully staffed kitchen, right? They could have made all of this for you.”

“I know, there’s just something comforting about eating food out of takeout boxes.” Riley shrugged and reached for a slice of pizza.

Liam made a mental note to have the kitchen start stocking various take out containers, for Riley’s future orders. “Did you order take out a lot back home?”

“I tried not to, maybe once or twice a week. I love cooking, so I would usually just whip something up for myself.”

Liam imagined entering the Royal quarters at the end of the day to find Riley in the kitchen making dinner, their children playing in the next room. Then they would all gather together at the table for dinner. A real family, we would laugh, and joke, and share stories from our day. His heart started speeding up again.

“What’s your favorite dish to cook?” He was trying desperately to keep his cool, all he wanted to do was to pull her into his arms and kiss her. Every second he spent with her, he could feel himself falling deeper.

Riley sighed and smiled to herself. “Nothing fancy, pretty much any of my grandmother’s old recipes.”

“I would love to try them sometime.” He casually draped his arm over the back of the couch. Riley smiled and leaned into him slightly.

They spend several hours eating, and talking, and watching some of Riley’s favorite shows.Since the day they met, Riley had done nothing but tried to get to know Liam, regular Liam, not the Crown Prince. He used this opportunity as a chance to return the favor, and he loved every second of it. The more he learned about her, the more incredible she became to him. She was funny, interesting, and smart. She was so expressive when she would tell stories about her family, and her life back in New York. She had only been in his life for a few weeks, but he couldn’t remember what it was like before she became a part of it, and he was absolutely certain he didn’t want to go back to that place.

Liam checked the time on his watch, and his heart sank when he realized how late it was. He knew he was going to have to leave her. He so desperately wanted to stay the night, if nothing more than just to know the feeling of falling asleep with her in his arms, but he knew he had to get back to his quarters before everyone started returning from the club. It would be quite a scandal for the prince to be found in a suitors bedroom. The last thing he wanted was for Riley to face a scandal that could potentially hurt their chances of ending up together. “I really should be heading back to my room. I had a wonderful time with you tonight, Riley.”

“Yea, it was a lot of fun. I’m glad you stopped by.” They both stood and started walking toward the door. “I’m sorry I talked about myself so much, that must have been so boring for you.”

“Not at all. You are an amazing person, Riley. I want to know everything there is to know about you, and tonight was the perfect start to that.” He cupped her face with one hand, placing the other on her hip.

They stared into each other's eyes for several moments, each waiting for the other to make the first move. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore, he had held himself back all night. He had to kiss her. He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, gently at first, but soon their lips parted and their tongues met. Riley’s knees started to go weak, she wrapped her arms around his neck to steady herself. Reluctantly, they pulled their lips apart. Their eyes remained closed, foreheads pressed together.

“Goodnight Riley.”

“Goodnight Liam. I’m really glad you came by tonight.”

“Me too.” As they separated, Liam lifted Riley’s hand to his lips.

Liam exited the room, and Riley shut the door behind him. They both leaned their backs against the door, taking deep breaths to recover from their dizzying kiss. It was different from the others they had shared, there was something there that they hadn’t felt before, but they both felt it, and wanted to feel it again.

“Liam?”

Liam snapped out of his daze and immediately stood up straight. He had been caught. He looked to his left and saw Drake looking at him with a questioning glare. And relaxed a little’ “Oh Drake, it’s just you.”

“I thought you were going out with everyone tonight?” Drake quirked an eyebrow knowingly.

“I made an appearance, but it wasn’t quite my scene.” Liam shrugged.

“See, now what I heard just then was, ‘I showed up, and Brooks wasn’t there, so it wasn’t worth my time.’”

Liam felt his face heat up at Drake’s words. He should have known that his best friend would be able to see right through his flimsy excuse. “Yes well, I had a wonderful night regardless.”

“I’ll bet you did. You’ve really got it bad for her, don’t you?” Drake patted Liam on the back.

“She’s amazing, Drake. I didn’t think it was possible for me to feel like this about someone.” Liam got a far off look in his eyes thinking about Riley, and the evening they had just shared. “Thank you for watching out for her during the social season. I can’t always be there to protect her, it makes me feel a lot better knowing you have her back.”

“Don’t mention it.” Drake stopped walking in front of his bedroom. “Well, this is me. I’ll see you at breakfast?”

“Of course. Good night, Drake”

The pair shook hands. Drake entered his room, and Liam continued to walk to his, thinking about Riley the entire way. The rest of the social season seemed like a waste of time at this point. He had found his choice, his bride, his Queen. He had found Riley.

Tags: @txemrn @texaskitten30 @kingliam2019 @anjanettexcordonia @twinkleallnight @mile9213 @kittypryde-bipride @motorcitymademadame @kat-tia801 @bebepac @gkittylove99 @khoicesbyk @jessiembruno @queenrileyrose @athena-penrose @pixie88 @eadanga @choicesficwriterscreations @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @annarenee355 @burnsoslow @shewillreadyou @imturaxamara @wackydrabbles

[touyota]

Catfish

☁ Summary: Tomura is hopeless when it comes to relationships, and soon that’s all subject to change. With the power of Tinder, Touya and one oblivious chick on his side, who knows what can happen. 

A/N: omgggg, i’ve lurked on my priv for the past year and finally decided to stop being a narc and post something. i haven’t written in forever and it shows lmao, but uh yeah pls give me feedback if you’d like. (also idk if this has been. done before, but sorryyy if it has)

☁ Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x fem!Reader

☁ Warnings: Non-con/dub-con, manipulation, dumbfication (if you squint), slapping, yandere, catfishing 

"Fuck I'm horny." 

Tomura groaned into his pillow, conflicted with whether he should be agitated or turned on. Due to his third nap of the day being interrupted by the excessive lewd noises coming from the shared living room. Tomura's roommate, Touya, had no real understanding of boundaries and was often more bothersome than helpful. Still, without his portion of the rent, he'd be on the streets struggling to find an apartment within his meager budget.

"Keep fucking me, Touya-san!" The plea echoed through the thin walls of the shoddy apartment. At least someone was getting laid. The last time Tomura had gotten lucky was at an impromptu Halloween party thrown by Touya at the apartment. 

He went as Jason Vorhees using a dingy hockey mask he found in Touya's closet. The poor girl in question, who came dressed as an angel, was drunk out of her mind. She clung to Tomura's scrawny body incoherently, slurring about "How hot it would be to fuck a murderer." The fling hadn't lasted long before the young lady in question toppled over the side of his bed and hurled her entire cup of jungle juice onto the floor. Poor Tomura had to spend his night nursing her head over the toilet. Making a mental note to tell Touya that he couldn't invite any freshmen to their parties ever again.

Tomura ended up seeing her again in passing on campus, giving a small smile as she walked by. Only to be met with an eye roll as she turned to walk in the opposite direction. Fucking bitch... Other than that, Tomura had found himself too busy writing code, playing video games, and browsing Reddit to dedicate any time to dating. The polar opposite of his roomie Touya-san, a communications major whose schedule consisted of dating? If you considered fucking the same chick for a week before ghosting her dating, sleeping, and eating and drinking Tomura out of a house and home.

"You ready for my load? You're my little cum dump, right? Say you're my cum du-"

Speaking of fucking, Tomura's hard-on was starting to hurt, and what better way to relieve himself than to beat off to the action in the adjacent room. 

He started to palm himself over his sweats, erection already beginning to poke through. Figuring that he's teased himself enough, he lowered his boxers, allowing his cock to slap against his stomach, throbbing and angry. He slowly stroked himself, gathering the pre-cum spouting from the tip, and used it to lube the rest of his cock.

"Pleaseee fuck! I'm your little cum dump! I swear Touya!" 

Tomura started to stroke his cock faster, leaving a squelching noise with each stroke. He was barely managing to suppress his moans. Knowing how Touya wouldn't let him hear the end of it if he got caught fucking his hand to the sounds of their subtle lovemaking. 

"Fuckfuckfuck... I'm cumming!" Touya grunted, giving out after his final stroke.

Tomura followed suit, flicking his wrist with each stroke. As his orgasm finally took hold of him, biting into his shirt to stifle his moan as he came all over his fist. 

"Are you fucking serious, Touya?"

"What?" 

"I didn't get to cum?"

"Um… I'm sure you can take care of that when you get home."

"You're such a piece of sh-"

Tomura tuned out the rest of his roommate's performance. Really hoping he'd wrap it up cause he really needed to take a piss and couldn't make it to the bathroom without passing through the living room. 

After hearing a respectable amount of silence, he figured it was safe to leave the room. Of course, he was wrong; he was met with a staredown between Touya and a petite blonde woman.

"I'm sure your roommate Tenko wouldn't leave a lady hanging like that."

"It's Tomura," he muttered.

"Same fucking thing, my point still stands," The mystery woman huffed. There was a pregnant pause before Touya doubled over in laughter, clutching his chest.

"You think this cuck knows how to take care of a lady? Yeah, it's time to go, Tara."

"It's Toga, you shit stai-"her statement was abruptly interrupted, the door slamming in her face. Touya's back slid down against the door as he sat facing Tomura. 

"Chicks? Am I right?" Touya sighed, peering over at Tomura, who had just left the bathroom. "Speaking of chicks, when's the last time you had sex, Shiggy?"

"It's been... a while." Tomura shrugged, not wanting to indulge his roommate with the details of his sex life.

"Well, we can't have that, can we? Let's make you a Tinder." Touya proudly announced, excited at the prospect of playing matchmaker for his roommate. Tomura reluctantly gave in, knowing once Touya was set on something, it was bound to happen one way or another. 

Two blunts later, Tomura and Touya were strewn over the couch, mulling over his profile's final details. It consisted of three pics, one from the Halloween party, another from their most recent function. The last pic is a selfie of him in a black hoodie with sunglasses on. The icing on top is the bio that unironically stated, "Freak in the sheets, gamer in the streets."

"You're gonna be a real pussy magnet shiggy. Just wait, you'll have to fight the chicks off with a stick after they see this." Touya chuckled as he took another puff of the blunt.

"Go to hell and stop hogging; you didn't put shit in on this anyways," Tomura muttered as he snatched the blunt away to take a pull. Maybe he would find some success, he entertained the concept of having a consistent fuck buddy, but sometimes he was lonely and just wanted someone to lay up with. He wanted to be optimistic about something for once, taking his final pull and ashing the blunt out. The smoky haze and intoxicating scent lulling him to sleep. 

Fuck optimism, Tomura thought. It had been three days with zero matches or messages, and he was starting to think there had to be a glitch in the system. The only time he had seen a match is when he accidentally swiped on Midnight's profile, a famous Only fans content creator who specialized in BDSM. The same Midnight that he happened to be a top donor for and occasionally bought panties from, but that's beside the point. The profile was poorly made with blurry, uncropped pics taken straight from her social media profiles. The lack of detail and legitimacy was apparent. Tomura felt terrible for the poor soul who probably fell for it, but it made him think… 

Why not see how different the response would be if he ran a profile under someone else's guise.  Someone more attractive, someone more affluent, and someone more famous. This was simply a social experiment; no harm would come from it of course. He would simply ghost anyone who wanted to meet, keeping all interactions virtual. Now who could he possibly pretend to be. without getting caught. Tomura's eyes finally settled on an Axe ad playing on tv featuring male model Keigo Takami. Mr. tall, blonde, and handsome would definitely attract the feminine masses.  

Ding ding ding, it was like a bell went off in his head; he had found his new look. He started to scour the internet for any pictures of Hawks that weren't already posted to his socials and be sure to crop any evidence out. A few hours later, Tomura gazed over his final product. He thought it seemed too good to be true; he was sure that anyone with a working brain would know the profile was clearly a catfish. It was too clean, too pristine, and too perfect, but Tomura was tired of the profile's nit-picking details and saved his last changes. It was starting to get dark, and he had to begin his Comp Sci homework soon so he'd have time to play zombies on Call of Duty later. 

Tomura woke to a multitude of buzzes notifying him of the several hundred matches he'd accumulated overnight on his Hawks profile. Apparently, no one had a working brain within the 15-mile radius. The messages were filled with tons of chicks he had seen on campus or in class. He even recognized the one from the Halloween party. He spent his morning smoke break, siphoning through the various contenders.

Too tall.

Too blonde.

Too ugly. 

Until...

He finally stopped scrolling when he reached your profile; he had seen you before in his Major classes. You were a somewhat modest girl, always working to be an overachiever and teacher's pet. You hadn't spoken to him before, only forcing a smile when Tomura was caught staring at you in class. You were talented, beautiful, quiet, and you hadn't encountered Touya yet. You were everything he had wanted, and more. He started to type a message awaiting your response.

Keigo: "What's keeping you up this late, love ;)" 

Tomura thought to keep it casual enough to fit his suave persona.

Y/N: "lol, just sum late night studying keeping me up."

Y/N: "won't lie im very nervous to texting you rn, i'm a big fan 

Keigo: "it's gud knowing i have fans as cute as you ;p"

The conversation seemed to flow from there between you two, texting for almost two weeks strong. Tomura had learned so much about you in a short time, your favorite foods, your favorite color, favorite music, and your dislikes as well. Touya often came by his room to check in on Operation: Get Shiggy Some Pussy, only to be met with a "Fuck off," and yet another door slammed in his face. 

You gushed over how lucky you were to be texting the one and only Keigo Takami. Of course, you were skeptical at first, but what kind of fucked up person would take the time to pretend to be another person? The conversation between you two was great and always kept you on your toes. Still, sometimes days would pass before you received a response; you chalked it to the fact that he was always busy as a celebrity and didn't always have time to respond to you. 

You were currently lying in bed and unable to fall asleep; you peered at your phone to see that it was 2:05 am. You let out a sigh, preparing to stare at your ceiling until you finally fell asleep, only to be interrupted by a chime from your phone. It was a message from Keigo. 

Keigo: you up? ;(

You instantly typed a response, scared that you had done something wrong.

Y/N: yup, what's wrong…?

Keigo: i'm so fucking hard rn baby ;(((

Oh shit, you hadn't prepared yourself for that response; maybe he injured himself at work or-

Keigo: you still there babe? send a pic ;p

You definitely hadn't prepared for that, but who were you to deny him. Keigo could've asked anyone else in the world, but he asked you. Not wanting to leave him waiting, you quickly shucked your shirt off and used your arm to push up your breasts, giving an illusion of the perfect push up bra. You promptly took several pics, taking the time to edit and select the ideal filters to complement your skin tone.

Y/N: 1 image sent

A bubble indicating him typing popped up instantly 

Keigo: 3 images sent

Keigo: fuckkkk babe, ur such a tease

You opened the pics, feeling your panties dampen slightly. It was a cock, well Keigo's cock, fat and engorged, leaking pre-cum against his toned belly. He was mostly well-groomed, but a prominent white tuft of hair appears in the picture, making you wonder if Keigo was actually a natural blonde.

Keigo: 1 video sent

 let me see that pretty pussy baby, 

It was a video of Keigo languidly stroking his cock, how romantic. It was only right for a gorgeous man like Keigo to have a pretty cock to match. What he lacked in girth was definitely made up for in length, complemented with a slight curve that could definitely reach that itch that none of your toys could scratch.  By now, you had ditched your panties and started to slowly start to fuck yourself open with one finger at a time. You started recording and angled the phone against your pillow, trying to capture you desperately fucking yourself on your fingers, letting out a small whimper with each thrust.

Y/N: 1 video sent 

You began to fuck yourself vigorously, dragging the accumulated slick over your clit with slow, circular strokes. You felt your orgasm on the brink, growing more restless and desperate, humping reverently at your fingers, whimpering desperately; you were so close...There was a sudden surge of fluid from your core, incoherent mumbles leaving your mouth as you kept carefully fucked yourself through your climax. The post-orgasm bliss lulling you to sleep, your eyes had finally fluttered shut, only to be awakened by another chime. 

Keigo: 1 image sent 

look @ all that cum baby, its all for you ;)

Y/N: when can we meet? my fingers can only work for so long :p

Read: 2:53 am

Aw man, maybe he fell asleep. You were definitely fighting sleep at this point as well, finally closing your eyes, satisfied for the night. 

Tomura struggled to catch his breath, reaching for his discarded shirt to wipe the sticky cum off of his stomach. That was the third time this month you'd ask about a meeting, and it was frankly starting to piss him off. He'd have to come up with something fast if he wanted to keep you around. Even though he didn't have much of a moral compass left in his body, the feeling of guilt was hard to ignore. You didn't deserve to be roped into his fucked up social experiment… 

A yawn interrupted Tomura's guilty thoughts. He could continue to feel guilty when he wakes up tomorrow.

 The following week your prayers had been answered, Keigo finally agreed to meet! It had been such a bittersweet feeling. What if he thought you looked nothing like your profile pictures? Would he reject you and run the other way, screaming? You tried to push your doubtful feelings down by distracting yourself with running errands. Finding the perfect outfit to wear, getting every inch of your body waxed, and picking up a lacy red lingerie set. 

Upon getting back to your apartment, you found a red bouquet of roses on the doormat. They were clearly store-bought and not of excellent quality… but it's the thought that counts! 

Lots of celebrities were frugal, and of course, Keigo was no different. After further inspection, a small white card with an address and time. You searched the address finding a mid-grade hotel on the outskirts of the city. Keigo was definitely a (cheap) frugal man dedicated to his discretion. Soon realizing that the time on the card was approaching, you quickly ran to shower and primp yourself for the evening. Not even thinking to question how he found your address in the first place...

You had finally arrived at the sketchy hotel, noting that there were little to no cars in the parking lot and noting that none of them looked like they belonged to Keigo. You wandered through the lobby until you finally reached the elevator, tapping the button for the 5th floor. You tried to shake off your pre-meeting jitters, you already knew everything would be fine, but you couldn't shake the feeling of something wrong...

Those intrusive thoughts were soon interrupted by the chime that indicated you had reached your floor. You took a deep breath as you stepped off the elevator, pacing yourself as you walked to your destination. 

Room 555 

How fitting, you thought. Your knuckles rasped against the door several times.

"Come in." A voice sounded through the door.

You peeked your head around the door before taking a step in the room, not being able to locate the owner of the voice. You gasped after taking the appearance of the room. The room had rose petals haphazardly strewn across the floor. Candles flickered on the dresser, a bubble bath was run in the bathroom, and to top it off, a too cheap bottle of champagne on ice. 

There was clearly an effort made, which made your heart swoon, hoping to put a real face to the man you've been speaking to for the past few months, you said out into the empty room.

"Keigo, I like what you've done with the place. You can come out now," you giggled.

"I'm glad you got the flowers," a raspy voice responded.

.......Huh?

Your joy instantly crushed, having heard Keigo's voice multiple times in the interviews you've seen, it sounded nothing like that. Unless he'd suddenly started chain-smoking within the past few months. A loud alarm started going off in your head. It was definitely time to go.

You twirled on your heels and reached for the doorknob, only to be stopped by a hand gripping your upper arm.

"Leaving so soon? The bathwater is still warm…" The mystery voice informed.

"Oh… I think I have the wrong room, so sorry about that." You squeaked, attempting to reach the door again only to be dragged into a bony chest. 

Your chin was tilted, forcing you to meet eyes with "Keigo." Who was actually a porcelain-skinned tower of a man with shaggy white hair that had an oddly familiar look to him? 

"Let me go! You're not Keigo!" You screamed, hoping to alert any other guests on the floor.

"Fucking took you long enough. I thought you were smarter than those other bitches on campus. Tomura balked, struggling to keep you still in his grasp.

Campus. That's where you recognized the face and voice of your captor, you were both in the same Comp Sci class, and you'd often caught him staring as you worked, chalking it up to you having something on your face or in your teeth. The realization caused tears to spurt from your eyes.

"Poor baby, didn't mommy and daddy teach you to not speak to strangers on the internet?"

"I-I thought y-you were K-Keigo," you gasped, struggling to control your sobs. 

"Well, I'm not. Get over it." Tomura slurred, placing sloppy kisses over your collar bone, slowly backing you towards the bed. 

You couldn't bring yourself to move or fight anymore, body stiff with fear. Your sobs increase in volume after feeling your legs make contact with the edge of the bed. You didn't know this man from a can of paint, and here he is about to assault you. 

"Stop crying before I leak those sexy little videos you shared with "Keigo." Imagine if everyone in the class knew how much of an easy slut you are?" Tomura hissed, shoving you unto the stiff mattress, springs squeaking as you bounced. 

You cradled your mouth, struggling to stifle your sobs. Why hadn't you recognized the signs sooner? You spent so much time looking at the situation through rose-colored lenses that you had utterly neglected your safety. But it wasn't the time to feign sympathy for yourself. You needed to take action, and soon—the shaggy haired stranger dragging your motionless body towards the end of the headboard. 

"Wait!" You gasped, hoping that you could possibly reason with your captor.

"What's your name? 

This was your final chance to escape. You suddenly kicked forward, aiming for his face, failing miserably as it was blocked. Both legs were then shoved into a mating press, granting Tomura the space to press himself even closer to you.

A groan left Tomura's mouth, frotting against your clothed mound, smothering your neck with sloppy saliva drenched kisses. You cowered at the feeling, curling away from his advances. The dry humping continued until a final groan of desperation was released. He was too grown for this shit and didn't feel like going home with stained boxers when your sweet heat was right in front of him.

The red bodycon dress you decided on was shredded down the middle, leaving you in your lingerie set. You added that to the list of things you were already regretting, moving to cover yourself the best you could. Your efforts to preserve the crumb of modesty you had left were futile, both hands knocked out of the way.

"You don't have to hide princess, I think Christmas came early.” “You're wrapped so pretty, baby." He chuckled, moving to fondle your breasts. Taking the time to pinch and pull at both nipples, drawing small hesitant gasps. 

"I'll play with these more later. You don't know how long I've waited to play with that cute little pussy in person." You felt your panties tugged to the side, embarrassed with the amount of arousal accumulated below. The feeling was soon replaced with horror after feeling the tip of his cock dragged between your slit.

Tomura used the residual slick to grease his cock, bypassing the need to stretch you out. He pressed forward, forcing himself inside, pausing to catch his breath. Damn... it's been a long time. 

You yelped in pain, closing your eyes in hopes of blocking out the situation at hand. You felt him start to pick up his pace, causing small tinges of pain to course through your body. 

"Mmmm, open your eyes. I want you to watch me fuck you." He gasped, realizing you hadn't complied yet, he landed a firm slap on your cheek. "Not only are you dumb, but you're also deaf too… open. SMACK your. SMACK fucking. SMACK eyes." 

Your eyes shot open, brimming with tears, finding yourself face to face with your captor. His eyes were closed in ecstasy, dainty white lashes framing the lids, traces of dry patches on his face. He wasn't ugly. You'd honestly give him a chance if he asked you out like a decent human being.

His pace had gained traction, hips crashing against yours. You found yourself slowly succumbing to the pleasure, discreetly fucking yourself against him. You wanted to protest and resist against him, but with your inhibitions lowered, you found it hard to comply. Each thrust pulling you further into the abyss that was your impending orgasm. Your lust-filled thoughts being interrupted by the stranger's incoherent mumbling.

"Tomura."

"Huh?" you whimpered, not fully understanding what he said. 

"My name is Tomura."

"Okay and mine i-"

"Shut up and say my name." Tomura's thrusts were sporadic, signaling his impending climax. "Beg me to cum…... please." 

You barely registered the final demand, not recognizing the soft tone of his voice.

"T-tomura, p-please let me cum!" you begged, right on edge needing something, anything to push you over.

Two nimble, callused fingers drew delicate circles over your clit, forcing you to writhe and sob as your orgasm coursed through your body. The feeling that followed was one of warmth as Tomura came, slowing his thrusts until he collapsed, encasing you in his arms.

Your eyes fluttered shut with your post-orgasm haze lulling you to sleep until a wet, sticky substance trickled along your inner thigh... 

What the fuck....

You nearly launched yourself from the bed, fighting to separate yourself from your captor's arms.  

"What is wrong with you?"

"You didn't use a condom," you wailed, tears perched at the corner of your eyes. You didn't have the time for a child, you were doing great in classes, your parents would reject you, you'd be stuck playing house with some stranger and-

"Stop muttering. You're fucking up my nap. I'll buy a Plan B when I wake up." Tomura mumbled into the pillow, dragging you back into his chest.

You continued to fight his grasp, pausing after feeling a firm pinch to your side. Fighting was futile at this point, and you couldn't fully assess the situation until you had some decent sleep. 

Closing your eyes for a few seconds wouldn't hurt…right?

[mldrgrl]

Broken Things 8/24

by: mldrgrl Rating: varies by chapter, rated R overall See Chapter 1 for summary and notes

Mulder helps his wife into the wagon.  Wife!  Yesterday he was a bachelor, today he’s somebody’s husband and she is his wife.  Incredible.

“On to the Byers,” he says, coaxing the horses into a trot.  “And then, home.”

“Yes.”  She’s reading the marriage certificate when he glances at her.  

Susannah Byers is thrilled when she hears about the marriage.  She wants to give them a party, but both Mulder and Katherine politely decline.  Mulder can tell that Katherine is not one to bring attention to herself and he can’t say he enjoys it either.  

“What about a nice Sunday dinner after services when the circuit preacher comes around?”

Katherine looks to Mulder and he nods.  “That sounds quite nice,” he says.  “Even if I can’t be to church, I’ll see to it that Katherine will be there.”

“We’ll get you into a church one day, Mulder, you’ll see.”

“I don’t know, Susannah, I think being a heathen suits me just fine.”

Susannah laughs and then slips her arm through Katherine’s.  “Let’s go get your things together and gossip about these menfolk.”  

“So, you went and did it,” John Byers says, as soon as Susannah and Katherine are gone.

“Yes, I’ve officially joined the married men’s club.”  Mulder spots the row of tinned fruits on the shelves behind John’s shoulder and has a moment of inspiration.  “John, I’ll take one of those tinned peaches and a few of your pickled eggs.”

John hops to attention like the perfect store manager that he is as Mulder rattles off some additional items.  A tin of crackers, a hunk of cheese, some bread, two bottles of sarsaparilla, a bag of licorice, a dozen apples, and a few scoops of raisins.  While John gathers everything together, Mulder pulls down a squat basket from one of the top shelves to put everything in.  He adds a new set of cutlery as well and covers everything with some linen napkins.

“Tell the ladies I’m out by the wagon,” he tells John after he pays him, and then takes the basket out to try to tuck it away unnoticed.

When Katherine comes out with the valise, Susannah is beside her with some wrapped packages.  Mulder takes everything and loads it into the back of the wagon.  The sun is getting to be high and mighty.  He leaves the ladies chatting and saying their goodbyes and runs back into the store.  It only takes a couple seconds for him to grab the first straw hat he sees and plunks it down on the counter.

“I assume this is for the new bride?” John asks.

“That’s right.”

“Then you’ll be wanting a ladies’ hat, not a boater.”  John shakes his head and points to the women’s hats behind him, ones that tie on with ribbons and have sprigs of flowers at one side.

“This one,” Mulder says, grabbing a wider-brimmed hat, much less stiff than the one he’d initially selected, with a pink ribbon and baby’s breath.

“Good luck with everything.”

“Thank you.”

Mulder hands the hat to Katherine when he comes out of the store and she gives him a puzzled look.

“Getting on to be high noon,” Mulder says, pointing up at the clear sky.  “The hat will keep the sun out of your eyes and protect you from getting burned.”

“Oh.  Thank you.”  She places it on her head lightly and then ties a neat bow under her chin with the ribbons.

“Susannah, I thank you for allowing Katherine to stay with you last night.”

“Anytime, anytime!  I was just telling her to come back as often as she likes and maybe we can plan a tea with some of the other ladies that come in for church.  There’s only the Sheriff’s wife and Arlene Skinner in town, but she’s not terribly social.”

“Didn’t even know Mr. Skinner was married,” Mulder answers.  “We only just met Monica Doggett today.”

“Well, I won’t keep you any longer.  You come back and see me real soon, alright?”

“Thank you,” Katherine tells Susannah and gives her a quick embrace.

As though they’ve done this a thousand times over and without even thinking about it, Katherine blindly gives her hand to Mulder and he rubs his thumb over her knuckles as he waits for her to gather her skirts up so she doesn’t trip on the step up to the wagon.

↭

Katherine quickly learns that Mulder is a man of many surprises.  She can see that his spontaneity is going to keep her on her toes.  When they’re about half-way to home, he stops the wagon where there’s a nice shady canopy of trees for the horses and produces a basket of food he had hidden in the wagon.

“Thought it might be nice to stop for a picnic,” he says.

“I don’t think I’ve been on a picnic since I was a little girl.”

“Wait just one minute, I’ve got a blanket back here I’ll lay out.  You’ll have to excuse the bits of hay, but at least your dress won’t get dirtied.”

She helps him lay out the blanket beneath an oak tree that looks like it was planted at the beginning of time it’s so large.  He kneels to unpack the basket and she sits down and tucks her legs to the side.  There doesn’t seem to be anything in the basket that he hasn’t thought of.  When he has it emptied he hangs his hat on the handle and pushes his hair back with one hand.

“I realize I don’t actually know if you like peaches,” he says.  “Maybe I should’ve gotten apricots.”

“I like peaches.”

“Oh, good.”  He opens the tin with a pocket knife and gives her the first pick.

“Thank you.”

“Whatever you’d like from this spread, don’t be shy.”  He cuts off a bit of cheese and bread and then lays back onto one elbow and smiles at her.

The way he looks at her makes her feel shy and she has to look away for a moment, but the pull of his gaze is too strong and it stirs something in her that she’s never felt before.  It’s akin to fear, but if she’s in danger, she doesn’t feel like running away from it, she feels like running towards it.

“You may just have the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen,” he says.  “I think the sky might be jealous.”

Compliments make her terribly uncomfortable and she’s glad for the hat that can shield him from the color in her cheeks.  “I’d like to confess something,” she says, plucking absently at a loose thread on her skirt.

“Is this where you tell me you can’t cook?”  He chuckles at his own joke.

“I can cook well enough.”

“Whew.”

“When I told you my maiden name was O’Brien, I wasn’t telling the truth.  It’s my mother’s maiden name.  Mine is Scully.”

“Scully.  I like that.  It suits you somehow.  But, why did you say it was O’Brien?”

“I don’t know.  I guess I felt scared in a way.  Of you knowing me too quickly.  You lied to me too, though.”

“No, my name has always been Mulder.”

“Jack never paid a single cent on that land.  You did.”

“Did Skinner tell you that?”

“No, he told me that Jack paid the mortgage on time, the first of every month.  That was simply impossible.  Even if he had won enough in a poker game.  Why did you want me to believe that he had?”

Mulder sighs and runs a hand through his hair.  “I got to thinking that maybe my offer had been a little unfair when you had no real alternatives.  I guess, selfishly, there was a part of me that didn’t want to think you’d marry me for that reason alone.  But, also, I thought I might try to give you one good thing to remember about your late husband.”

“You don’t know what my memories are.”

“No, but I do know they aren’t fond.”

She frowns and her voice comes out a little more forceful and louder than she’d like, but he’s touched a nerve.  “I won’t ever think fondly of Jack Willis and there isn’t a thing you can do about that,” she barks.

Mulder whistles low and then smiles.  “And though she be but little, she is fierce.  Remind me, fair Kate, never to get on your bad side.”

She’s embarrassed by her outburst, but more surprised that Mulder doesn’t seem the least bit fazed by it, or concerned.  He’s rather amused.  He just keeps smiling at her to the point where she has to drop her chin or she may end up smiling back.

“If I may be so bold,” Mulder says.  “Why did you marry Jack?  Was there ever a time you liked him even a little?”

“I married him because my father arranged it.  Maybe there was a time when I liked him.  If there was though, I’ve forgotten it.  And if it’s alright with you, I’d rather not have to think about him right now.”  

“Of course.”

“I apologize for losing my temper earlier.”

“Why should you be sorry if that’s the way you feel?  I promise I will make it my life’s mission not to arouse your temper, but you should know I am famously myopic when it comes to thinking before I speak or act.”

“As long as you’re not violent,” she whispers, her eyes downcast.

He reaches out and touches her cheek for a moment.  “No, I am not violent.  You have my word on that.”

She nods a little.  She knows she’s been temperamental and melancholy and has ruined the picnic that Mulder has set up.  She tries to think of a way to salvage the day and this nice thing that he’s done for her.

“You know what I was thinking?” he asks suddenly.  “We’re going to have to make sure you have more lessons with the carriage.”

“Why?”

“Getting into town, going to church, having ladies’ teas and those other mysterious things women do when they get together.  You’ll need a way to get to and from.”

“Oh.  I don’t need to go unless you’d like to take me.  You don’t have to go to any trouble.”

“Well, Melvin’s going to need something to do since you’ll be displacing him as the resident cook.  He’ll be showing you the ropes anyway, and he’s a much better teacher than I am.”

“You would permit me to go into town on my own?”

“Permit you?”  He raises his brows a bit.  “Do you know what my aunt once told me about marriage?”

“No.”

“She said that it’d be best to remember that women have their own minds and their own interests and if I thought that marriage would change that, I should go on and be a bachelor for the rest of my days.”

She doesn’t quite know what to do with this piece of information.  Her mother had always told her that marriage is doing as your husband bids and raising his children.  No more.  As a woman, she has been trained to believe that it is her place to move from her father’s rule to her husband’s.  And now, here is a man, her new husband, a complete stranger whom she tethered herself to more willingly than her last, offering her a kind of freedom she’s never had but always longed for.  Four years ago she had lost the hard-won opportunity to be more than a daughter or a wfie, never thinking it would come around again.  

“Do you mean that?” she asks.  “That I might have my own interests to pursue?”

“Only if you promise to tell me what those interests are sometime.”

“I like to learn things about science and new discoveries.  Have you ever heard of the electric bulb?”

“I’ve seen one.”

“You’ve seen one?”  She nearly gasps.  She’s read all about them, seen illustrations, but never met anyone who has seen one in person.

“There’s a park in New York City illuminated at night by electric lamps.  It’s not as pretty as candlelight, but it is rather enchanting.”

“Some day I would like to see one.”

“I am certain that you will.”

She’s quiet for a few moments, thinking about the possibility.  It occurs to her that she’s forgotten all about her earlier discomfort and melancholy and that perhaps the picnic has been a success after all.

“I would like you to know that I didn’t marry you because it was the only option,” she tells him.  

“Oh?  I’m glad to hear that.”

“I think it’s possible that I might like you.  And that I trust you.”

He laughs at that.  “You can take your time on making up your mind about it, but I already know that I like you, fair Kate.”

They smile at each other and she tips her head down almost bashfully.  She’s not quite willing to admit to him yet, but she likes it when he calls her Kate.  She likes almost everything about him, really, even when he’s being stubborn.

“Do you think we could go on another picnic one day?” she asks.

“It was just on my mind to ask if you had any objections to stepping out with me again sometime.  I’m sorry if there were some awkward moments earlier, it’s been a long time since I’ve done any courting.”

“But, we are already married.”

“Still, I think a bit of courting is in order, don’t you?  How else am I to learn all that I should about my wife?”

“When you have put it in such a way as that, I can’t help but agree.”

[5-seconds-of-bucky]

Glad It’s You (Shawn Mendes Soulmate!au)

A/N: We got all kinds of classic tropes and au’s in here. Coffee shop, friends to lovers, soulmate. Also, let’s appreciate the fact that it’s actually of decent length this time :) My longest fic yet! 

Also, I’m aware that the timeline of some events that correspond to real life aren’t perfect but for the sake of my sanity please go with it 

Summary: Shawn lives in a world in which he believes he doesn’t have a soulmate until he starts feeling the emotions of someone else. You live in a world where undiagnosed social anxiety prevents you from finding yours. After not seeing each other for three years, the bond you once had is no longer as strong. How does Shawn tell you that he thinks you’re his soulmate when you’re still scared to talk to him like you once did? 

Word count: 8.9k+

Warnings: Reader is heavily implied to have social anxiety, swearing, descriptions of an anxiety attack  

*Disclaimer: The depiction of social anxiety is based off of my own experience and research and may or may not accurately reflect the experience of other people with SAD* 

It was hard to tell if soulmates made life infinitely better or perpetually more difficult.

The discrepancy probably stemmed from the fact that not everyone had the same soulmate indicator. Some had the tattoos of the occupation of their soulmate. Some couldn’t see color until they met theirs. Others could feel the emotions of the other person. There was an endless array of indications. Oftentimes, soulmates had different indicators. It wasn’t rare for someone to have a tattooed name while their soulmate could feel the other’s emotions. 

Since the day you were born, the initials S.M. were tattooed on the inside of your wrist. As a child it was a game. You asked every person you met what their name was, your mind consumed with the idea of eternal love that had been ingrained from a young age. There was always a moment of disappointment when they would tell you “Sammy Jones” or “Eric Miller”. With all the adults romanticizing the idea of soulmates, it was hard not to look for yours in every place you could. 

For a long time, Shawn thought he didn’t have a soulmate. There were no indicators while he was growing up to show that he could have one. He could see color and there were no special tattoos marking his body. It was a source of shame when his friends would ask, “What about you?” after telling him about theirs. Watching his friends talking about their indicators and finding their soulmates was frustrating. He was a normal kid. What did he do to deserve a life of loneliness that only a soulmate could fill? 

Even when his career as a singer launched and he started to understand why it was possible that he might never find love, it was hard to comprehend that he was destined for no one. Was he really that undeserving of love?

He was twenty when he started feeling someone else’s emotions. 

It came out of nowhere. He was celebrating the release of his third album and he couldn’t have been happier. He was on cloud nine, meeting everyone at the party with an enthusiastic smile and hug. He felt complete, even. He had stopped dwelling on his lack of soulmate and instead focused on putting everything he had into his songwriting. 

It was the best choice he’d ever made. His music blossomed and his mental health was better than ever. All the anxiety of being alone and hoping that something, anything, would pop up to show him that he was meant for someone had started to fade to the background. Maybe he would never truly be over the fact that there was no perfect match for him but he could try to block it out of his mind. 

There was a point in his life when he thought that maybe he did have a soulmate. That the system was screwed up and he did have a person. He was 16 and his career was already taking off but he couldn’t help but think that he was falling in love with you, his best friend, while he also fell in love with making music. 

You were by his side through it all: random nights when he’d ask you to come over to help him come up with lyrics, days when it started to get a little too much, evenings when he just needed a quick break. You were the best of friends and there was a bond you thought would never be broken.

One day, he realized that he didn’t need some tattoo or the ability to read your thoughts; you were meant for each other. Neither of you could deny the pull you felt when you were together and random people who didn’t know better often mistook you for a couple. 

But he realized too late. He went on his first world tour and wasn’t sure how to tell you his feelings when he was constantly so far away. You liked plans and stability; his life didn’t offer that in any capacity. 

And then it was too hard to stay connected. He was touring and you were still trying to finish school. There just wasn’t time for you to talk to him at 3:30 in the morning. So you lost touch. There was a text every once and awhile. An empty promise of “we need to meet up” or “wanna talk?”

You both decided in your minds that it wasn’t meant to be. That you had a different soulmate and he had none. It’s been three years now since you were together to have a real conversation. You were beginning to grow frustrated with the search for your soulmate and Shawn had given up all together. 

That was, until he felt a surge of anxiety hit him like a truck in the middle of his party. It lasted no more than three seconds but he couldn’t quite shake the feeling after it passed. He had no idea where it came from. One second he felt on top of the world, the next like he couldn’t stoop lower. 

~

It had only been an hour and a half but you were ready to leave the party. It had been an eventful night by your standards. You had talked to two people besides your roommate, which was two more than usual. Your roommate, Alana had been by your side the whole night, a promise she had to make before you agreed to come, but she eventually had to go to the bathroom, leaving you leaning against a wall by yourself. She had only been gone for three minutes, you could feel all the anxiety creeping up on you. 

Do they think I look lonely? My friend will be back in a minute, I swear!

If I look at my phone they might think I’m just chilling.

They probably think I’m that weirdo that stands against the wall the whole time and doesn’t talk to people. 

Calm down. Nobody cares what you’re doing. They’re all doing their own thing. 

. . . They looked at me funny. They think I’m weird. 

Oh can we just go home? 

As much as you tried to tell yourself that no one cared that you were standing against the wall by yourself, there was that part of you that convinced you that they cared a lot. You were already exhausted purely from being around all the people and loud music. Alana had been gone for three minutes and in those three minutes you had begun to shake and sweat just the slightest bit. You knew that nobody was judging you, it was irrational, but in the back of your mind told you otherwise. 

~

Shawn excused himself from the room, taking a minute to gather his thoughts. While it wasn’t completely abnormal for random bouts of anxiety to hit him, this one felt different. Foreign, as though it wasn’t his own emotions, rather, someone else’s. 

He wiped his hands on his pants, confused as to why they were so sweaty all of a sudden. It wasn’t particularly hot yet he felt warm. Maybe he was worrying too much. It was probably nothing. He ran a hand through his hair before going back to the party, putting a smile on his face and the past ten minutes behind him. 

“Hey man, you alright?” Brian asked as he approached him. 

‘Yeah, just needed to go to the bathroom.” 

“You sure? You look a little shaken.” He wasn’t blind to how Shawn’s eyes were darting around and how he appeared a little more closed off than usual. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He turned his head when someone else called his name and nodded to Brian before heading over to them. He spent the rest of the night doing his best to look excited, but those three seconds plagued his mind the whole time.

~ 

While Shawn struggled to keep his hopes of a soulmate under wraps, you were more desperate than ever to find yours. It seemed like all of your friends were finding theirs and you were perpetually alone.  

With the way you tended to shy away from meeting new people, most people assumed you didn’t want to find your soulmate. That you would rather live a life alone, or that maybe you were never assigned a soulmate to begin with.

You had met a few potential soulmates after losing touch with Shawn. Every time you heard an S.M. name your heart stopped. Maybe you had finally found them. You pushed past the fear of approaching them, rationalizing it with the thought that this could be your only chance to find them. It never worked though. They all had an indicator pointing towards someone else, leaving you upset and embarrassed.  

There was always a small part of you that thought Shawn could be your soulmate, even if he didn’t have any indication of one. You were sure he thought the same way but you lost touch before either of you could really say anything about it. 

You thought about asking him to meet up when he was in town a few times but something stopped you every time. The thought of what if he doesn’t remember me? or worse, what if he doesn’t want to talk to me? was enough to keep you from sending the text. 

It was easy to ignore your loneliness when you could bury yourself in schoolwork, which you had a tendency of doing. It was the easiest excuse to get out of everything. Don’t want to go to a party? Oh, I have to finish editing my essay. Alana tried to set you up on a blind date? I have tests coming up I need to study for. 

Alana was determined to help you find your soulmate, even if you didn’t want to cooperate. 

“Come on, Y/N. Maybe they’ll be at this party! I promise there won’t be a ton of people there and I know you finished that essay last night cause you told me about it and said that you were looking forward to a work free night,” she said, closing your laptop so you couldn’t “work” on your already finished essay. 

“But I want to go over it a few more times to make sure everything is right,” you replied. “Besides, we went to a party last month.” 

“Exactly, last month. Let’s go.”  

“I don’t want to go.” 

“You’re never going to meet your soulmate just sitting at your desk and pretending to work on an essay.” 

“It’s not entirely impossible.” 

“Y/N.” 

So that’s how you ended up at the party, looking around for a potential soulmate. You insisted that they wouldn’t be there; they never were, but Alana insisted that a night out would be good for you, no matter the soulmate circumstance, and dragged you along. 

Truth be told, it was a good thing she forced you to attend. If you had it your way, you would spend most nights in your room, ignoring the rest of the world and sitting on your phone. You were fine hanging with close friends every once and awhile, but a night in was always more appealing. 

According to Alana, however, that wasn’t normal, and you needed to go out in the world and talk to people, unless you wanted to be alone forever. 

You would say, “But I do want to be alone forever. If you haven’t noticed, I don’t even like going to the bank, much less a party filled with people I don’t know.” 

And she would say, “Please, I know that you want to find your soulmate and the only reason you don’t like going to the bank is because it makes you nervous and you’re worried that the people working there are going to be mad at you for no reason.” 

So you would say, “I’ve probably met all the potential soulmates already. What’s the chance that some random person is going to show up to the party and just happen to be that person?” 

And she would tell you, “People randomly meet their soulmates all the time. Yours isn’t going to walk through this door without knowing you first. If you don’t at least leave this dorm you’ll never meet them. Think of how lonely they must feel, waiting for you to come out of hiding.”  

And, as much as you wished you could, you couldn’t really argue with that. The real problem after that was talking to people. You argued that you’re already there, so there’s no reason that if your soulmate was at the party, they couldn’t come find you. Alana tried to get you to socialize by walking around with you and introducing you to new people, but they were usually more interested in talking with her than you. 

That’s how you ended up against the wall, allowing yourself to overthink while Alana went to the bathroom.

~

Shawn continued to experience those random emotions throughout the tour. Random flashes of feelings that weren’t quite his. He would be lounging around when he would suddenly feel excited and energetic, only for it to pass by within a few seconds. One time, he was feeling particularly miserable when a surge of adrenaline and anger came through him. 

He had no idea where the feelings were coming from. He was starting to think that they were somehow connected to his soulmate. 

A glimmer of hope after years of desperation and disappointment. 

Part of him wanted to dismiss it, thinking that no, I can’t have a soulmate. I’ve worked way too hard to get past this to dwell on it again. The other part wanted to take the idea and run with it. 

He tried to argue with himself that it couldn’t be soulmate related.

It’s not like it happening all the time or constantly in the back of my mind.

How would this help me find them anyways? 

It’s all in my head. 

Still, it did little to block the thought that maybe, just maybe, it was related. 

~ 

It was a quiet day at the coffee shop. Granted, most days were fairly quiet, as the shop was located in a secluded area, but still. You assumed it was mainly attributed to the fact that exams were coming up and people didn’t have time to drive down to the shop when there was a Starbucks much closer to the dorms. You were in the same predicament, having your books splayed out on the counter to study in between customers. 

You and Shawn used to come to the coffee shop every Friday after school. Even after Shawn left to go on tour and live life as a rockstar, you made sure to visit the shop at least once a month. Afterall, you were friends with the owner, Eileen, and you would hate to just stop coming and never see her again. 

You eventually landed a job there. It was a little bit of a drive from the dorms but you knew that when Eileen offered you the job, you wouldn’t be able to find one with as good pay and flexible hours anywhere closer. Sometimes being friends with the owner for a long time has its perks.

There was a collage of photos on the wall behind the register that made the place really feel like home. There were tons of random photos ranging from when the shop first opened to when Eileen took a picture of a slice of cake she insisted had a face in it. 

You appeared on the wall a few times, but your favorite picture was the one of you and Shawn right before he left for tour the first time. You were both laughing in the picture, Shawn’s arm around your shoulders as you leaned into him. It was the last time you went to the shop together and you remembered just how fun of a time it was. It always left an ache in your heart when you looked at it, remembering all the good times you had together. 

You didn’t have many other close friends, so once Shawn left for tour you felt a lot lonelier. Your mom tried to get you to make new friends, but it wasn’t as easy for you as she insisted it was. 

“Why can’t you talk to the people across the road? They have  a girl your age.” 

“But she already has a friend group. We’ve lived across the street from each other for years. It would be weird if I suddenly introduced myself and tried to break into her friend group.” 

“You’re never going to make friends if you don’t talk to people.” 

“I have friends.” 

“But don’t you want to hang out with more than two people?” 

“No, I have my friends. That’s all I need.” 

More often than not, you did wish you had more than two friends, or that Shawn would come back and eliminate the need to make new ones, but wishing did nothing to help your loneliness.  You made a few more friends once you went to college, and you were completely okay with your small group, but it never satisfied the longing to see Shawn again. 

~

“What are we doing here?” Brian asked as Shawn pulled into the parking lot of a worn down but homely looking building. “And what is this place?” 

“It’s a coffee shop I used to come to every week. I haven’t seen Eileen in years,” Shawn said with a wistful look as he parked the car. 

“Eileen?” 

“The owner.” 

Brian huffed, realizing that they would be stuck there for a while if Shawn knew the owner. He liked to talk to people. And when he talked, he talked and talked and talked.

“Relax, I’ll buy you a coffee.” 

They both got out of the car and walked into the shop, Shawn smiling when he heard the bell above the door ring. He looked around for a second, noting how almost nothing changed since he’d last been there a few years ago. The chairs and tables were still in the same places, same coffee smell, even that stuffed cat that Shawn gave Eileen as a joke was still sitting on the windowsill. 

The only big change he noticed was the photo wall. There were a lot more photos than he remembered. He wondered if he would still be able to find that picture of you and him. 

He looked to the counter and saw a girl with Y/H/C hair, her head buried in the textbooks that were scattered across the counter. 

“Dude, we getting coffee or what?” Brian said with a teasing smile, walking closer to the counter to read the menu posted on the wall behind it.

You were so invested in studying that you didn’t even hear the bell ring when they came in, only looking up when you saw someone approaching the counter out of the corner of your eye.

“Oh, hi, sorry ‘bout that. How can I help you?” you said as you looked up, met with the face of an oddly familiar young man. 

“Can I get a-”

“Y/N?” Shawn questioned from behind him, confusion painting his face. He hadn’t seen you in three years but you didn’t look all that different. A little more mature, sure, but he could tell it was still obviously you. 

You furrowed your eyebrows at the familiar voice, glancing behind Brian to see Shawn. Your eyes widened at his appearance, no longer a boy but now a man. “Shawn?” 

“Hey, Y/N, can you empty the garbage and put it out back?” Eileen asked as she walked out of the small kitchen area that was closed off from the rest of the store. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Shawn, a smile taking over her face as she took in how he’d grown up over the years. “Shawn Mendes, is that you?” 

“Indeed, it is,” he said with a shy smile. “How are you Eileen?”  

“Pretty good if I do say so myself. How are you? How’s the rockstar life treating you?” 

“It’s pretty great.” 

Meanwhile, you were still staring at your former best friend, mouth slightly agape as you took him in.   

“Well why don’t we get you two some coffees? On the house of course. Y/N, stop staring at the poor boy. It’s not like you’ve never met him before.”  

You looked at the ground for a second and blushed, smiling at the sound of Shawn’s giggle. 

“Alright, what can I get you guys?” 

They gave you their orders and you got to work, denying the ten dollar bill Shawn offered you to pay for them. 

“On the house, remember? Or are you Mr. rich guy now?” you asked with a slight surge of confidence. You hadn’t seen him in years, but the urge to tease him every chance you got was still there.

“Ooh, okay. You think I’ve changed that much?” 

“A little bit. It’s been a while.” 

“That’s where you’re wrong. I am the exact same person as I was three years ago.” 

“I’m not too sure about that, but okay.” 

Shawn rolled his eyes and put the bill in the tip jar. “Alright, coffee girl. I would like my coffee in two minutes flat. No more no less. Brian is on a very tight schedule so we have to get him home in time for his nap.” 

So Brian was his name. “Your wish is my command, good sir,” you said, bowing at him before turning around to start the drinks. You could hear Shawn giggle behind you, sending an eruption of butterflies to your stomach. 

Shawn felt a slight nervous tinge as well. One that wasn’t quite his. He felt completely natural around you but maybe his soulmate was somewhere else feeling nervous about a presentation or something.  

You gave the boys their coffee, sticking your tongue out at Shawn when he commented on how it took three and a half minutes instead of two and demanded his money back. You returned to the counter, trying your best to focus on studying. You kept getting distracted by Shawn’s voice, which carried across the shop, as he talked to Eileen. He was sitting in the same two person table against the wall that you used to sit in during your weekly visits.  

“You need to go talk to him.” You jumped slightly when you noticed Eileen next to you. 

“I don’t think he wants to talk to me,” you replied tentatively, flipping the page of your book in hopes that it would make it look like you were actually studying. The burst of confidence was gone and you came to the reality that you were both no longer the same person you used to be, therefore, you couldn’t keep that same dynamic. 

“What makes you say that?” 

“I dunno. Just a feeling.” 

“Go talk to him. I know you want to.” She gave you a knowing look and you sighed. “I’ll take over for you for a bit. Go talk to your best friend.” 

“But he’s with Brian and I don’t really know Brian and what if they don’t want to talk to me they just wanted to hang out and-” 

“Y/N.” 

Suddenly, the butterflies grew, and it became more of bird wings than butterflies. You took a deep breath and made you way over there, praying that it would be over quickly and you could go back to studying by yourself. 

You quietly pulled up a chair and sat in it, waiting for Shawn to finish whatever story he was telling Brian.  

“Y/N, just in time,” he said with enthusiasm. “I was just telling Brian the story about Willy the window cat.” 

“Ahh, a classic.” Shawn could sense your unease and quickly introduced you to Brian. He was well aware of your lack of people skills and how uncomfortable you got around new people.  

You spent the better part of the rest of the hour catching up with each other, Shawn doing a lot more talking than you, which you were completely fine with. You tried your best to not show how nervous you felt. 

Even as you tried your best to hide it, Shawn was picking up on the nervous habits. Your lifestyles might’ve changed but you were still the shy girl who subconsciously picked at the inside of her elbow and bounced her foot excessively when nervous. It didn’t matter if you hadn’t seen each other in years, he still knew you like the back of his hand. 

There were days, back when you were really friends, where he would reach over and grab your hand so you would stop picking, or place his hand on your knee to stop the bouncing. He chose to ignore it now, realizing that you had grown apart, and now wasn’t the time to jump back in so intimately. You were always self conscious about the habits and he didn’t want to make you more nervous by pointing them out. 

Even though he was more focused on you throughout the conversation, he noticed how Brian was seemingly getting more and more bored hearing him talk. As much as he wanted to stay and talk to you, he knew he should probably get going. This was supposed to be a quick pit stop to drop in and say hello, not an hour long catch up with the girl he used to be sure was his. 

“We should get going. I think Brian is going to walk home if I stay here much longer.” Brian’s head perked up at the mention of his name and Shawn chuckled. 

“Meet you at the car. Nice meeting you, Y/N.” He was up and out the door in a matter of seconds, causing Shawn to chuckle again.  

It didn’t sit all that well with you though. 

Oh no, he doesn’t like me. 

He thinks I’m some weirdo who doesn’t talk. 

I barely know the guy and he already hates me. 

“We should meet up, just the two of us, sometime. I’m on a break from tour if you’re free anytime soon,” Shawn said, breaking you out of your thoughts. “And don’t worry about Brian. I think he’s just tired.” 

It did little to ease your fears but you smiled like it did anyways. Were you that easy to read? “Uhh, yeah. I have exams next week but we can meet after that.”

“Alright, how does the eighteenth sound?” 

“That works.” You stood up and put your chair back at the table it came from, turning around to find Shawn closer than you expected him to be.  

“Awesome. Text me your address so I can pick you up and take you somewhere.” 

“Okay.” He threw you his signature smile and it made you melt a little. 

“It was great seeing you, Y/N. Tell Eileen I said bye.” 

“Good seeing you too and you got it.” 

He pulled you into a quick side hug and left. 

As much as you tried, you couldn’t study for the rest of your shift. Only three more customers came in within the two hours you had left, so you spent a decent amount of time staring at the wall and stressing about meeting up with Shawn. Two weeks gave you plenty of time to stress about it, which led to thinking of ways to get out of it. 

~

Maybe if I don’t text him the address, he’ll forget, you thought as you stared at your phone the next day, messages open to Shawn’s name, your thumb hovering over the keyboard. It could work. That was enough to convince you to turn off your phone and worry about it later. You went back to working on the presentation you were working on, only pausing when you felt the buzz buzz of your phone telling you that you got a text. 

From Shawn: Hey, what’s your address? What time do you want me to pick you up? 

You panicked slightly, upset that your plan had already fallen apart. You decided to ignore it for the time being. You would worry about it later.  

“Hey, Y/N, can I borrow your phone for a second? Mine’s dead,” Alana asked as she came into the dorm. 

“Sure,” you said as you handed her the phone, not bothering to look away from your computer. 

“Who’s Shawn and why is he asking where you live?” 

Your eyes widened as you realized you forgot to clear the message. “He’s just an old friend. We’re uhh meeting up since we haven’t seen each other in a while.” 

“Well are you going to text him back or do I have to do it?” 

“I will, later.” 

“You’re actually going to do it?” she asked with a curious smile. “And you’re actually going to meet up with him?” 

“Yeah . . .”  

“I’m holding you to this.” 

“What, why? I’m capable of handling my own social life.” 

“Sure you are. You’re not getting out of this though. I know that look.” 

You sighed and glared at her. She knew you too well. “Do you actually need my phone?” 

“Yes, I need to call my mom.” She sent you a sweet smile and you shook your head. “Thank you.” 

You texted Shawn at 9:12 that night, six hours after he sent the original message. 9:12 specifically so it looked like you just saw it and responded as soon as you did, not like you ignored it and were planning to send it at  a specific time, like 9:15. 

He responded thirty seconds later with a thumbs up. 

~

The day of the meetup was stressful. You had already been in your head about it for the past two weeks, but you really started worrying when you realized you had no idea what was going to happen. 

Shawn refused to tell you where you were going, only telling you to dress comfortably and that you would only be gone for a few hours. Being a person who liked schedules and knowing exactly what was going on, this didn’t make you too happy. It sounded a lot like a date, which only made you more stressed. 

“Do you think this will be okay?” you asked Alana. You were wearing jean shorts and a semi-cute top. Not too fancy but not too casual. 

“Is this a date or friend meetup?” 

“Friend meetup.” 

“You look great.” She could sense the hesitation as you looked in the mirror, deciding if you agreed with her or not. “You’re gonna be fine. From what I’ve heard, you were best friends for a long time. You’ll be back to that in no time.”  

“I don’t know. It’s been so long and-” You were interrupted by a text from Shawn telling you he was there if you were ready. 

“Go have fun. Take a deep breath and stop worrying about it, alright?” 

“Okay.” You gave her a smile before putting your phone in your back pocket and leaving. You could see Shawn leaning against his car and looking at his phone once you left the building.  

Shawn had been quite excited to hang out with you again. There wasn’t any part of him that was nervous until he went to get drinks for the two of you that morning. It had been slowly building up all day, but it felt more like his soulmate’s than his own. 

“Hey, you,” he said with a smile. “Ready to go?” 

“You bet,” you smiled back at him, walking to the other side of the car to get in. 

“I got you a frappuccino.” He gestured to the cup holder. “I don’t know if what you like has changed but it’s what you used to get so I hope it’s okay.”  

“My taste hasn’t changed a bit,” you chuckled. “Thank you. That’s really sweet of you.” 

“Of course. What better way to rekindle our friendship than by reliving the old times?” 

“True, true.” You discretely wiped your palms on your shorts, unsure if it was from nerves or the heat. “Want to tell me where you’re going?” 

“Nope. It’s a surprise.” His eyes had a mischievous glint to them. He knew how much it was bothering you.  

“This feels like a first date,” you mumbled, avoiding eye contact. You knew that Shawn was like this by default, but you couldn’t help but feel a little extra awkward anyways. 

“Not my intention,” he chuckled. “I just wanted to be nice.” 

“I know, I’m just awkward.” 

Shawn laughed and shook his head.  

You didn’t drive for much longer, arriving at a small park no more than fifteen minutes after you started. 

“I figured we could walk and catch up, if you’re good with that.” 

“That’s good. Why didn’t you just tell me we were going to the park though?”        

“Wanted you to get worked up about it.” 

You gasped. “That’s mean.”  

“Gotta balance the niceness out somehow.”  

You spent two hours walking around and catching up. You felt yourself ease up as you talked. He was still your Shawn and he barely changed from the last time you talked. The evening ended with a hug and promise to hang out again soon. 

“See,” Alana told you when you told her how well it went. “Sometimes you need to just give yourself the push.” 

The more and more time you spent together, the more and more Shawn became sure that you were the mystery soulmate whose emotions he had been feeling. 

He would feel a twinge of extra excitement before you hung out or right before you texted him I got an A on that essay!!!!!

He was never completely sure though and never told you about it. He wanted to test the theory but wasn’t sure how he could do it without you knowing. 

Meanwhile, your search for your soulmate slowed. You came to terms that they would come when the time was right and that you needed to enjoy life as it was. Your best friend was on a break from his hectic life for the first time in a long time and you wanted to spend all the time you could with him. You felt a little less anxious when you were around him, which could also be attributed to the lack of school work due to summer break, but you liked to believe he was helping. 

The great thing about Shawn was that he knew not to push too hard. Alana didn’t always know when to stop pushing you towards doing things out of your comfort zone. You’ll admit, it was sometimes good for you. Other times, it caused way more anxiety than necessary  and you would be out of it for the rest of the day. Shawn, on the other hand, could tell when something really could be too much and would stop. 

There was only one time when he knew he was pushing too hard but continued anyways. 

“You wanna be my date to the Grammys?” You had discussed his nomination earlier that day, but he never mentioned bringing someone with him before. 

“Date?” You had a playful smirk on your face and Shawn just rolled his eyes and nudged your shoulder. 

“Do you wanna be my extra person who’s my best friend, not date, cause I don’t have a date, date? 

“As amazing as that sounds, I don’t think so. Way too many people.” You hoped he would just drop the subject. 

“Come on, it would be fun. Besides, how often do you get an invitation to the Grammys?

“Never . . . because I don’t want to go.” 

“Please, Y/N. I don’t have anyone else to take and we would have such a good time.” 

“Take Aaliyah.” 

“She probably has stuff going on.” 

You have tons of other friends. Take one of them.” 

“Yeah but you’re my best friend and I want to take you.”

“Shawn I really don’t think I should. There’s gonna be a ton of people there and I don’t have the money to buy a fancy dress-”

“I’ll buy you a dress and stay with you the entire night.”

“I can’t ask you to do that. Besides-” 

“Please, Y/N. I will beg you every day until you say yes. Just this one time, then I promise I will never ever make you go to a party or awards show of any kind.” 

“Fine,” you sighed. You knew that it was a bad idea but you also knew that Shawn would hold true to the begging. 

“Thank youuu.” He reached over and pulled you into a hug 

“You owe me.” 

~ 

The week before the Grammys was more anxiety inducing than anything in your entire life.  

You got your dress a month ago but was starting to have second thoughts on it. Was it fancy enough? You had scrolled through endless pictures of past Grammy looks and everything looked so much more elaborate than your midnight blue dress. Tiffany had picked out the dress for you, noting how you wanted something elegant but nothing that would make you stick out. 

You had to admit, you loved the dress. It fit you perfectly. You were yet to show Shawn but you knew he would love it. There was just one part of you that thought that everyone would think it was too simple and know that you had no business being there. 

Shawn was doing his best to help you through the anxiety. 

“Think of the best possible situation,” he told you. 

“Nobody notices me and I stay completely under the radar or they note that I’m your friend who’s been seen with you before and leave me alone.”

“Now tell me the worst possible situation.” 

“I do something embarrassing and stick out so that everyone notices and realizes that I’m obviously not supposed to be there.” 

“See how the worst case scenario is so much more unlikely to happen?” 

“Shawn, I know it’s irrational but I can’t help it. No matter what, I’m going to have a worst case scenario.” 

“I know you are. Y/N, I do too. But think for a second,” he said. “Everyone else is too caught up in their own affairs to give a flying shit about what you’re doing. Unless you walk the red carpet with me, they probably won’t even notice you.” 

You knew Shawn was right. You knew the worst case scenario was irrational, you just couldn’t help but dwell on it; you were so scared of embarrassing yourself. You were once again planning excuses for not being able to go. I’m really sick and throwing up everywhere or There’s a family emergency. I can’t go. 

But even as you worried more and more, you knew how much you needed to do it for Shawn. He had done so much for you. You could do this one thing. 

~

“You ready?” Shawn asked with a huge grin. He had been getting more and more excited by the day. The happiness blocked the intensely anxious feelings of his soulmate to the slightest. At this point, he was almost positive you were his soulmate. Of course, anyone could be this anxious for a long period of time and it just coincidental to yours. He wanted more time to think about it though and if it was true, to tell you at a time when you were in a better mental state. 

“Not really, but I don’t think I have a choice,” you said through the door. You had to admit, you felt absolutely beautiful. Your thoughts of sticking out because of your dress were fading with every look in the mirror.  

“I’m sure you look absolutely fantastic.” 

“That’s not the problem but thank you.” You both giggled at that and you wished you could get over yourself and go out there. 

“You know I’ll be with you the whole night, right?” His tone changed to a more serious one, and it was comforting to know he cared so much. 

“I know, but still.” 

“Can I see you now? This is easier when I can see your face.” 

“Yeah,” you chuckled, opening the door slightly before taking a deep breath and stepping out. You grasped your hands behind your back and smiled shyly as Shawn stared at you in awe. 

“Wow,” he whispered. “You look absolutely stunning.” 

Heat rushed to your cheeks and you looked down to your feet. 

“Come here.” He pulled you into a hug, his head resting on your head as yours was on his chest. “You’re going to be amazing tonight, okay? So stop worrying so much and enjoy it as it comes.” 

“I’m trying.” 

“I know you are, I just wanted to remind you.” He squeezed you tighter for a second and drew back, smiling widely before completely letting go. 

You both said nothing as you got into the car to go to the show, allowing yourselves to try to relax before the long night ahead of you. 

“Good luck,” you grinned as he prepared to get out of the car for the red carpet. 

“Thanks, see you soon.” He took your hand and squeezed it, causing the butterflies in your stomach to explode. He stepped out of the car and winked at you, laughing at the finger guns you sent him before he closed the door. 

You both agreed that it was best for you not to walk the red carpet. You didn’t want to be bombarded with questions asking if you were in a relationship and Shawn didn’t want to have to deal with the drama it would cause afterwards. You decided to meet inside, which led to you awkwardly standing around and waiting for him to come in. 

After what felt like a lifetime and a half of avoiding eye contact and trying to look like you belonged, Shawn appeared at your side. 

“How’d it go?” 

“Good. Took some really hot pictures I think people will enjoy.”

“How is that possible? You can’t take hot pictures.” 

“As if I haven’t caught you ogling over pictures of me before.” 

“As if,” you scoffed and Shawn let out a loud laugh, which made you laugh as well. 

“Alright, sassy pants, let’s find our seats.” 

The show went well and you eventually realized that you got worked up more than you needed to. You didn’t have to interact with many people and you were able to sit in a seat and enjoy the show more than you thought you could. 

What you should have been worried about though, was the afterparty. 

Shawn said you didn’t have to go but you could see how much he wanted to. You also knew that if you told him you were going to go home but he should go to the party, he would opt to go with you. So, against your better judgement of what you were up for that night, you decided to go under the condition that Shawn would stay with you the whole time. 

It was a little too loud and crowded for your liking but you did your best to hide the discomfort. The faster you got out, the better, but you were going to try to enjoy the party the best you could. 

Unbeknownst to you, Shawn could definitely sense your discomfort. Something inside himself was telling him he should take you home, but everytime he suggested you leave, you insisted that you wanted him to have fun and that you would stay until he wanted to go. You knew he came with intentions of talking to other people and refused to leave until he did so. 

“But I’ll have fun with you.” 

“Shawn Mendes, if you do not socialize tonight, you will spend the rest of your life regretting it so I suggest you start mingling.” 

“I feel like that’s an overstatement, but fine.” He started walking away but turned around when he noticed you weren’t following. “Come on, wallflower, I’m not allowed to leave you by yourself.” 

You rolled your eyes but pushed yourself off the wall and made your way towards him anyways. 

He made his way around, talking to friends and a few people he didn’t know, making sure you were close at all times. You were quiet the whole time, only speaking when asked a question. Like with Alana, people tended to be more interested in the person you were with than you yourself. 

Shawn caught you picking at the inside of your elbow a few times. Part of him wanted to scold you for doing it, but he knew it was a subconscious habit and that you couldn’t do much about it unless he pointed it out. He would wrap his arm around you, gently placing his hand over the spot so you couldn’t pick at it. You would sigh once you realized you were doing it again and Shawn would squeeze your upper arm lightly, as if to say, it’s alright.

He eventually gave you a water bottle to keep your hands busy and you accepted it graciously, secretly in awe of how he knew you so well. He was about ready to go after that, drained from the long night, when someone called his name. He made his way towards them and you tried to follow but got blocked off by someone walking in between you. In a split second he was gone, and your anxiety only grew as you struggled to find him. 

You found yourself standing next to a table, texting Shawn to tell him where to find you once he was ready to go. You hoped it wouldn’t take too long, but the voice who called him sounded like Niall’s, and you knew they would want to talk for a while. 

Shawn was too busy talking to Niall to notice the growing anxiety coming from his soulmate. He didn’t even notice that you weren’t next to him. 

You tried your best to blend in, something you thought you were doing a good job of, when someone who looked very vaguely familiar tried to talk to you.  

“That dress looks quite lovely on you,” he said. 

“Thanks,” you said rather quietly. There was an awkward pause for a second and you wondered if he was waiting for you to say something else. 

“Enjoying the party?” He stepped slightly forward to let someone pass behind him. 

You stepped back to keep the space, forgetting about the table and knocking into it full force. A loud clanging noise could be heard as a few platters flew off and your eyes grew wide at the realization of what you just did. 

The man in front of you laughed but his attention was quickly called elsewhere.The people around you looked behind themselves to see what was going on. The looks of confusion and giggles probably lasted no more than a few seconds, but it was enough to send you into a full panic. 

The lights were suddenly too bright and all the noises around you jumbled into a muffle. You pressed your back against a wall as you tried to gain your composure, panicking more when you couldn’t. The music was too loud for anyone to hear your rapid breathing but you wanted nothing more than for someone to come help you; for Shawn to come help you.

“Yeah we definitely need to meet up sometime soon,” Niall said to Shawn. 

“Totally. I’m-”  He was cut off by a paralyzing burst of panic. He didn’t even have to think to know it was you. The urge to protect you came over him and he quickly excused himself from Niall to find you. 

It didn’t take long to see you standing against the wall and curling in on yourself. He felt like he couldn’t get there fast enough. There was nothing he wanted more than to take the worry away from you but it felt like there were a million people in between you. 

“Breath, Y/N, breath,” he said once he finally made it to you. Your eyes locked with his and he could see the absolute panic in them. “I’m going to take your arm so we can go outside, okay?” 

You nodded frantically, allowing Shawn to guide you to outside. The cool air was a relief but did little to calm you down. Shawn gently leaned you against a wall and put one of your hands on his chest. 

“Breath with me, sweetheart,” he said, exaggerating his breathing to help you. “You’re okay. Just focus on breathing.” 

“I’m sorry,” you muttered once you calmed down and your breathing returned to a normal rate. 

“Y/N, no. You have nothing to be sorry for.” 

“But I messed up your night and-” 

“It’s not your fault. I know exactly how you feel and I promise you, it’s not your fault.” He could see from the look in your eyes that you didn’t believe him and it broke his heart. “Come here,” he said as he wrapped his arms tightly around you, one around your waist, one pressing your head to his chest. 

“I know you think it’s your fault, but you did absolutely nothing wrong,” he said lowly, leaning his head down close to your ear so you could hear him. “If anything, it’s my fault for not realizing you weren’t with me.” He felt you tense up and rubbed his hand up and down your back. “You are amazing and wonderful and so strong, Y/N. We all have our low points. Nobody is blaming you for anything.” 

You didn’t say anything and Shawn took that as a sign to stop talking. He held you in his embrace for a few minutes longer, relaxing a little when he felt your arms wrap around him. 

“Let’s get you home.” 

“You should stay.” 

“Y/N.” 

You dropped it and let him call an Uber, hugging him again once he finished. “Thank you.” 

“Anytime.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, and you felt yourself once again wishing he was your soulmate. 

~ 

After a long talk with Shawn the next morning, you decided to go to the doctor to get an official diagnosis. The social anxiety diagnosis also came with the recommendation of therapy. It was time to take control of your anxiety and your life.

Shawn was there for it all. Helping you through the bad days and celebrating the good ones. You were celebrating a good one today and Shawn could feel your happiness before you even walked through the door. 

“You won’t believe what I did!” You exclaimed once you were seated on the couch. “I needed this tomato sauce but I couldn’t find it anywhere in the store but I knew they had it somewhere. So instead of not getting it, I actually asked one of the people working there where it was.” 

“Good job!” The smile on his face was huge as he gave you a high-five. “Was it really that scary?” 

“Yes, but I did it, which is more important than if it’s scary.”  

He was so proud of you. It had taken a few months, but therapy was doing wonders for you. It might have been small progress, but even small progress was big progress. 

He had held off on telling you about the soulmate situation, wanting you to be in a better space before he dropped the bombshell. Now felt like a good time to do it. 

“Not to take away from you, but I have some good news myself.” 

“Tell me!” The eager look on your face made him even more nervous for some reason, but he knew he needed to do it. 

“A few months ago, I started feeling these feelings.” 

“Oh wow.” 

“Shut up,” he giggled. “They were emotions that weren’t mine. Like, they felt like someone else’s.”  

You nodded your head, having an idea of what was coming: he finally found his soulmate and it wasn’t you. 

“And at first I couldn’t figure out who they belonged to but then I met you again.” He looked up at you but your face was blank. “And then I was starting to feel feelings you were experiencing. Like you would text me about being happy and that background feeling of extra happiness would be there but I wasn’t sure if it was really you.” 

“Are you trying to test it out now?” He could see you trying to put the pieces together. 

“No, I kinda already did in a way?” You looked even more confused so he kept going. “When we went to the Grammys I could feel how anxious you were. And then we went to the party and I could feel it but it wasn’t anything that was too overwhelming. Then, I went to talk to Niall, which is when you had that panic attack, right?” 

You nodded. 

“And I was fine but then there was this really really intense second of pure panic and I just knew. Some kind of protective instinct went off in me and I just had to get to you.” 

There was a pause as he let you process what was happening. 

“Y/N, I think you’re my soulmate.” 

There was a deafening silence but Shawn was too scared to look at your face to see your reaction. 

“You really think?” 

“I know it sounds crazy but-” 

“Could we really be soulmates?” 

“. . . yes?” He finally looked at you to see a smile creeping its way along your face. 

“Holy fucking cow.” You both burst into laughter, leaning into each other as you did. 

“I’m glad it’s you,” Shawn said once your laughs turned into tiny giggles. He looked at you with a glimmer in his eyes. 

“I’m glad it’s you too.” 

[imaginesofharrypotter]

Asgardian ale

Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Thor brought some Asgardian booze to the party. Surely, nothing can go wrong.

Warnings: a little bit of angst I guess, but mostly fluffy Bucky

Last night, it was one of Tony Stark's notorious parties but only including the Avengers. Everyone was dragged there as it was mandatory, "team-building fun" as Tony liked to put it. Surprisingly enough Thor showed up and brought something with him that made the party all the more exciting: Asgardian ale.

You see, the two super soldiers were so enhanced that they could never get drunk and let loose, with human alcohol that is. It was truly a sight to behold. Pre-serum Steve had so many ill conditions that alcohol was off-limit and boy, did he enjoy the calm feeling of the booze. The always polite Captain America ran around the tower shouting nonsense, swearing while he tried to lift Thor's hammer and cutely but miserably flirting with Natasha (but given the unlikely situation, it made the assassin blush nonetheless)

You were laughing your ass off on the couch with Wanda when two strong arms draped around your shoulder making you look up.

"Hi Soldier" - you greeted your boyfriend who had an adorable cheeky grin on his face

"Hi, Beautiful" - he planted a sloppy kiss on your mouth that made all eyes wander from Steve towards the two of you

You see, Bucky never was a fan of PDA, rarely showing affection when the others were around. That was fine with you, you understood that he was a private person, and it made his love for you even more precious, knowing he would make it up when in your shared room alone. He was a big, sentimental, clingy, and handsy person and you wouldn't have it any other way. It was so sweet that you were the only one seeing this affectionate side of him... Up until last night.

"I miss youuuu" he purred in your ear, tone slightly slurred by the alcohol

"But I'm right here, Buck" - you cocked an eyebrow and smiled sweetly at him

"I miss your warmth" - he cornered the couch and sat down next to you, instantly wrapping his arms around you in a side hug, nuzzling your neck.

"Better?" - you asked in a whisper as you started stroking his hair, just the way he likes it

"Soooo much" - he purred again, closing his eyes and inhaling your scent - "You smell so gooood"

You chuckled lightly and yelped as you felt yourself being lifted. You landed on Bucky's lap, him pulling you flesh to him and tightly wrapping his arms around you, resting his head on one of your shoulders. You laid back and let yourself relax in your boyfriend's embrace, closing your eyes, and feeling utterly content. That is until a flash went off.

"Hey" - you exclaimed as you saw Sam holding his phone and showing the photo that he just took to everyone

"Oh, calm down Snowflake, it's not every day that we get to see Mr. Grumpy so kind and calm." - he shrugged his shoulders

"At least send it to me then." - you asked him, already knowing what your new phone wallpaper will be

You lightly turned your head to see Bucky's reaction, only to find him still in the same position, contently sitting with closed eyes and a little smile plastered on his face.

The rest of the night mostly contained talking and laughing as everyone gathered around you. During the late hours, slowly, everyone went back to their rooms. You haven't failed to see Steve following Nat out and to her room. You smiled to yourself then you tried to think about a way to get you and Bucky into a comfortable position to sleep. You assumed that he had fallen asleep a long time ago as he never said a word all night, nor did he move after snuggling up with you. You slowly loosened his arms around you.

"Wanna go to sleep, doll?" - he asked and you jumped a little bit on his lap - "Sorry to startle you" - he chuckled lightly and hugged you tightly again

"It's okay, I just thought you were asleep" - you turned halfway and smiled down lovingly at him

"Nope" - he popped the p in it - "Was just too comfortable to move or say anything" - Bucky smiled goofily up at you while your heart melted

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself" - you caressed one of his cheeks, basking in the feeling as he closed his eyes and leaned into your touch - "Are you feeling sleepy yet?"

"I could sleep" - he mumbled tiredly while picking you up bridal style and carrying you to your shared bedroom

He put you on the floor and kissed you sweetly. It was a gentle and loved filled kiss, not hungry, nor rushing, just full of passion. He pulled away and undressed you slowly, trailing little wet kisses on your skin as he exposed it. After you were only standing in your panties he walked to the closet, picked out one of his T-shirts, and pulled it over you. Bucky loved it when you wore his clothes, it was a sense of pride that you were his and his alone. You started to undress him too, focusing on his clothing but you knew his gaze never left you as he followed your every movement with an expression filled with adoration. You pulled out a drawer and picked out a fresh boxer for him and panties for you. You both changed and got under the covers, Bucky instantly nuzzling your stomach and wrapping his arms around you the best he could. You reflexively started to card your fingers through his luscious brown locks and felt him hum against your skin while planting a soft kiss on it.

"I love it so much when you are this affectionate" - you laid your head on the soft pillow

"I can't help it, you are so soft and warm, the best feeling ever" - he mumbled softly and you heard his breath even out

"Sweet dreams, my love" - you kissed the crown of his head gently and drifted to sleep yourself

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A loud crash woke you up from your slumber. You turned around, wanting nothing more than to nuzzle into your boyfriend's warm body, but you found his spot empty and cold.

You yawned and walked to the kitchen to get some breakfast for yourself. Steve was already there, making coffee for himself, his back to you.

"Well, well, I didn't know purple was on the new Captain America color palette" - you commented with an obvious smirk as you saw the not so little love bites around his neck"

"Thor should definitely not bring that ale on a party again" - he laughed nervously while turning around and sipping his coffee

"Ohhh, on the contrary, Stevie. I will personally ask him to do so if it makes you finally admit your feelings" - your smiled turned more soft - "How much do you remember?"

"Everything" - he face-palmed himself - "The strength of the alcohol was enough to set me loose but not enough to make me forget things or even to have a hangover"

With that, you took out your phone to check social media. The first pic that came up nearly made you drop the device. Before you could ask Steve about it, Sam came running into the room, screaming, while a very angry looking Bucky followed him with heavy steps.

"Take it down" - your boyfriend demanded with a growl, the authority in his voice making your legs week

"No way man, where is the fun in it, there are already thousands of view on it" - Sam retorted while trying to hide behind you, knowing Bucky would never hurt you

"Oh, no, you are not getting me into this" - you stepped away, but towards your love - "Sweatheart, what got you this mad?"

"Oh, why not ask Birdie here?" - he still threw daggers with his eyes towards Sam

You thought about the post with the caption "The big bad Winter Soldier is actually a big softie #BuckyBear" that Wilson made and uploaded.

"Is this about the picture from last night? Do you not like it?" - you asked softly

"Of course I do, you are on it" - he smiled lovingly at you, his voice softened - "But other people aren't supposed to see and like it" - he mumbled and pouted like an adorable child

"Oh, honey, but we look so good. We've been together for almost two years, it's only natural that we love being affectionate towards each other" - you put your hands on his cheeks, lightly caressing them

"So it wouldn't bother you if I hold your hand or kiss you in front of others?" - he asked shyly, avoiding eye contact

"Of course not. I would really love that. But I respect your choice of privacy if it's not okay with you." - you reassured him

He didn't answer verbally, just bent down and captured your lips in a passionate, deep kiss.

"Ewww, get a room" - Sam exclaimed loudly, making you break the kiss

"You cooked yourself a meal, now you're gonna eat it" - and with that, you went back kissing Bucky

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From that moment on, Bucky always kept an arm around you and was never afraid to show his love for you. It turned out that he was a real sucker for PDA, knowing you loved his attention. You were also able to finally shower him with love anytime you wanted, to cuddle up to him and relax, and to go to long walks, holding hands. You two were never overdoing it though, but the team never minded it anyway. Everyone knew how happy and calm moments are so rare in the field of work you were doing, they were truly happy for you. Maybe Sam not so much, especially when Bucky randomly grabbed you and kissed you deeply whenever he walked in, pissing him off and reminding him that he never should invade your privacy again. Oh, and Bucky never admitted it, but he actually was grateful for Sam to take the photo that now served as his wallpaper too.

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Author's note: I have a bunch of ideas of Bucky, so most probably I'm gonna post about him for a while. But also really wanna write something sweet for Tj Hammond. What are your thoughts? Have a lovely day ^^

[citizen-l]

02. Window

Chanyeol never thought he'd be under someone's flat throwing tiny rocks at their window. Never in a million years did he imagine himself to be in this position. Sure he did some crazy things in life, but never something as cringe-inducing as this. In broad daylight too. Jesus. 

"Hey!" someone called him and Chanyeol looked back to find Officer Joey looking at him with narrow eyes and creased brows. "You're the kid from last night, aren't you?"

"Hi, yeah," Chanyeol said awkwardly. 

"Why are you throwing stones?"

"No one's answering the buzzer?"

"Ever heard of calling?"

Yeah well, Joey, I would, but I have their phone with me. And while we're talking, Joey, fuck you. God, Chanyeol wanted to scream at the ridiculousness of it. 

Chanyeol never would have forgotten to return Baekhyun's phone that he pocketed in case of an emergency just that morning before taking him to get stitches. Never would have under normal circumstances. But getting a too sweet goodbye strawberry kiss was not a normal circumstance. Chanyeol could feel his ears getting warm and red, and Joey was still there staring at him. 

"I have something that I desperately need to give Baekhyun," Chanyeol said. Judging by the familiar way Baekhyun had talked to Joey before, maybe Joey would leave him alone if he realized Chanyeol wasn't a threat to Baekhyun. "Calling didn't help, and I'm pretty sure Baekhyun really needs this. So, yeah…"

Honestly, Chanyeol would have just found Sehun and given the phone to him and been done with it. But Sehun was MIA with Junmyeon. And Chanyeol hadn't had a chance until this late in the afternoon to come by and hand over the phone. But he'd be lying if he said he kinda maybe didn't want to check if Baekhyun was alright. Oh God, what if he's lying unconscious on the floor again? 

"At this hour, he's probably at some rehearsal, hop in," Joey gestured towards the passenger side. 

Chanyeol was having a hard time digesting what was happening. How did he end up riding shotgun in a police vehicle? How did Joey know so much about Baekhyun's schedule when even Sehun was of no help? What the hell was going on with Chanyeol's life, good lord?

Joey dropped at one of the smaller auditoriums east side of the campus. Chanyeol had never ventured this way, never had any cause to. 

"Tell him I said hi," Joey smirked before leaving Chanyeol there. He probably got off on how shook Chanyeol was. 

The huge double doors opened up to a lobby. The signs said dressing rooms were to the left, and to the right were the rows of identical doors leading to the actual auditorium. For audiences. Chanyeol decided it was best to check there first since he could hear voices and music coming from one of the half opened doors. 

The only auditorium Chanyeol had ever been to on campus was on the north end, the one where the big seminars are usually held. This one was different, definitely not for academic or corporate lectures. The lights, the stage, even the seating was different. This was made for performing musicals like the one a dozen or so people were rehearsing. 

"Oh woe, to be trapped in this age…" a woman wailed dramatically while lying flat on the stage. 

"Oh, what is this I see! Some faerie-like creature come for me?"

Someone sang, another voice joined with a deep baritone that sounded somewhat like Baekhyun, but Chanyeol had never heard him sing before. 

"Hello hello, fair man," someone said. 

"Ah! My prince has come to save me, joy be!" shouted a guy as large as Chanyeol but lankier.

That was when he realized they were all talking about him. A bunch of theatre kids finding a new person interrupting their rehearsal, of course they would be dramatic about it. What did Chanyeol expect? 

"How can I help you, sir?" a brunette girl asked with a fake British accent. 

Someone started singing about waiting for him all her life as he went down the stairs towards the stage where he could spot a guy with a bandaged hand and hoped it was Baekhyun. He was wearing a hat so Chanyeol couldn't clearly see the cotton candy fluff on his head. 

A guy in suspenders and lipstick stopped him by starting to dance suggestively and singing a Burlesque song. God this bunch was loud. Two others came around him, the brunette and another woman with red and white streaks in her black hair and the three started a whole number with impressive impromptu harmonies and suggestive body rolls. 

"Chanyeol?" he heard Baekhyun's surprised voice from the stage. 

There he was, hat in hand, pink hair almost glowing under the harsh light of the stage, eyes squinting to see Chanyeol awkwardly standing as three people sang some jazz song and moved their pelvis in a way that Chanyeol would rather not witness at the moment. 

"Hey, hi," he used Baekhyun's interruption as his getaway card and moved around the dancing trio. "Sorry for barging in like this, just wanted to return this."

Baekhyun jumped straight down from the stage seeing his phone. Chanyeol was momentarily shocked, and the worry he felt in that instant thinking something bad might happen to Baekhyun jumping down from so high nearly rendered him speechless. 

"Oh my God, thank you! I've been looking everywhere for it. I really thought I lost it during my steakout yesterday."

Stakeout?

"Nah I took it with me when I took you to the pharmacy, forgot about it afterwards."

"Well, thank you for bringing it back all the way here."

And then Baekhyun was hugging him, arms around Chanyeol's shoulders, hot breath on the side of his neck, Baekhyun stood on tiptoes and Chanyeol didn't know what to do with his own hands. 

"Why can't I get a man like that?" a girl sighed from one side. 

"Wait, is that the guy? He really carried Baek… I mean I can see he's got…"

"Holy shit, he's real?!"

"Of course he's real, Minseok," Baekhyun said and he let go of Chanyeol. 

"Uh, I should go…" Chanyeol said awkwardly. 

"What? Wait, I haven't done anything to thank you," Baekhyun said. 

But you did, Chanyeol thought. You kissed me. That was a thank you, no? What was the kiss about? Why the fuck did Baekhyun kiss him? God, Chanyeol was going out of his mind trying to figure it out. 

"That's okay, you don't have to…"

"Nonsense, let me just get changed and then I'll treat you to something delicious."

"Hopefully not something too delicious," someone said. 

"Don't forget about the party tonight," someone else said. 

But Chanyeol couldn't focus on all the things everyone was saying. He was finally focused on Baekhyun's outfit. Suspenders, a dirty-white pirate shirt tucked haphazardly into leather pants.

"Be a little more discreet ogling his ass, will you?" The guy with pretty eyes, Minseok whispered near and Chanyeol nearly choked on his spit. 

"Oh leave him be," Another guy, the one who was singing with Baekhyun said, he had a cat-like smile. "He's too whipped anyway, let him enjoy."

Jesus. Chanyeol wanted out of here. It wasn't that these guys were half bad. Quite the opposite, Chanyeol found them sort of endearing with the way they passionately rehearsed their lines, danced and sang even without an instructor guiding them, on a Saturday. But taking jabs at Chanyeol and laughing at his "whipped" nature was unsettling him. He was not whipped for Baekhyun, he was just still stuck on a stupid kiss. 

Chanyeol sighed, he couldn't blame anyone. Not these guys, they were just having fun. If anyone, Chanyeol should blame Sehun. Now that guy was whipped, for Junmyeon. A little too much. If it wasn't for Sehun, Chanyeol wouldn't have been temporarily homeless and had to spend the night at Baekhyun's. 

"Stop teasing him, people. See you later," Baekhyun sang as he came back dressed in a baggy sweater and loose camo pants tucked into his boots. He tugged Chanyeol's shirt sleeve to follow him out. 

"Don't forget to bring dessert," someone shouted. 

"Bring Prince Charming as well, while you're at it!"

"Sorry about that, they tend to be a little rowdy during the weekend," Baekhyun said. 

They sat facing each other in a booth at a quaint little café/bakery just outside of their main campus. Chanyeol had never even noticed it, but Baekhyun said they have the best baked goods he ever had. 

"You don't hate sweets, do you?" Baekhyun asked, a little alarmed. 

Chanyeol looked at him like he was crazy, thinking back on how he was seconds away from sucking the taste of freaking strawberry milk from Baekhyun's tongue. Chanyeol coughed and shook his head. He was fine with sweets. Their coffee and chocolate covered donuts came soon after. Chanyeol had to admit they were good, had the potential to ruin his body and all his hard work, but he could indulge on occasion. 

"How did you find me anyway?" Baekhyun asked while licking chocolate off his fingers. 

"Joey," Chanyeol said and tried not to stare. "I was actually at your apartment, he found me and said you'd be at rehearsal. He even gave me a ride. He said hi."

"Ah, makes sense."

"How are you so close to the officer, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Oh he used to date my mom, didn't work out though. But I like him, we occasionally meet up because he has two dogs and I'm desperately trying to convince him to let me adopt them."

The way he said it made Chanyeol laugh. And that was surprising because Chanyeol doesn't usually feel this comfortable with people so quickly. Well, maybe it had something to do with last night's fiasco. And the kiss. Fuck.

Chanyeol wanted to ask about it, so bad. But it felt weird. And awkward. And Chanyeol wasn't sure he could ask with a straight face. It bothered him. Not in a negative way. More like, he couldn't figure it out and it was irritating. It was like not knowing what that sound was at the back of a well-produced song and obsessing over it for days and even weeks until finally it was clear. 

"What are you doing tonight?" Baekhyun asked. 

"Uh, nothing much, I guess," Chanyeol sipped his coffee. 

"How do you feel about a social gathering? Dinner will be on me."

"The party your friends were talking about?"

"It's not much of a party, really. Just some friends hanging out together."

"Well, I don't think I'd fit in, and I don't wanna be a bother among friends," Chanyeol said. 

"Well, as humble as that sounds, I insist. And you heard Jongin, they want you there. They wouldn't have asked so directly in front of you if they didn't."

Was it worth it? Should Chanyeol give up another night at his apartment to spend time with Baekhyun and his eccentric friends? 

"Wear something white," Baekhyun said. 

"Wait, I haven't decided whether I'd go."

"I've decided for you, it'll be fun. I'll pick you up at 8."

"How's your hand?" Chanyeol decided to change the topic. Maybe he can get away with the party thing later with a better excuse. 

"Hurts a little, but good otherwise. Nearly got plastered under a ladder while rehearsing, but narrowly escaped."

"Does that often happen?" Chanyeol was more alarmed than he probably should have been. 

"Nah, I just got distracted. But anyway, I gotta go make a cake. Oh hey, I should have your number."

Half an hour later, Chanyeol was shifting through his wardrobe looking for white clothes. He had none. He regretted ever agreeing to go to the party, which, by the way, he never explicitly agreed to. 

His phone buzzed with a text from "Kyoong", Baekhyun had insisted, with an impromptu photo of his doing a finger heart, that that be his nickname on Chanyeol's phone. God knows why Chanyeol agreed. 

"Be there in ten." The text read. Great. No way to back out now. 

"I kind of have an issue." Chanyeol texted back. It felt like a weak excuse to get out of going to the party, even though this was a genuine issue. 

And then Baekhyun was calling him and Chanyeol nearly dropped his phone. He finally saw the pout Baekhyun sneakily did which wasn't noticeable with the small icon. Jesus. 

"Hello?"

"Hey, sorry, started driving so I couldn't text back. Don't worry, Bluetooth, and I'm almost at your place. What's the issue?"

"I'm going to hang up and we can talk when you get here."

"Wai-" 

Chanyeol did as he said and waited until Baekhyun was knocking at his door. 

"Okay, glad that you're concerned about me dying on the road but never hang up on me, bothers the hell out of me. So, now, what's the issue?"

"I don't have anything white," Chanyeol said.

"Your roommate? Borrow something of his."

"I don't know if you met Junmyeon or not, but we're sort of not the same size."

"Well, I don't think Sehun owns anything remotely classy either."

That's when Chanyeol finally registered what Baekhyun was wearing. A high collared Victorian shirt with ruffles on the sleeves and neck, a few streaks of shimmering thread on his chest and shoulders. A corset. Loose breeches tucked into knee-high boots. All white. 

"You look beautiful," Chanyeol said before he could stop himself. 

"Why, thank you, dear sir. I spent hours trying to fit this just right. Et voila."

"You made this?"

"Tweaked. I'm no seamstress. But I can use a needle."

Right. Of course. Chanyeol should stop staring at Baekhyun's shiny cheeks that matched the color of his cotton candy pink hair. Get a grip. 

"You said classy outfit, right? I have all-black fits, recital clothes."

"Ah, that would create quite the buzz, but I like the idea. Show me," Baekhyun said. And then he neatly sat down on Chanyeol's bed and crossed his legs, waiting for Chanyeol to appear in his black attire. 

Right. Well, Chanyeol wasn't ready to strip in front of this Victorian ghost boy yet. Yet? Jesus Christ, his mind was well on its way to the gutter. 

"I'll be right back," Chanyeol took the shirt and pants from his drawers and went to the bathroom to change. 

He came back to soft music playing on his speakers. His music. 

"Sorry, I was snooping around and found your disks. You really composed these?"

"Uh, yeah, last term."

"I need to get this on my phone. Later. Well, you look pretty."

Chanyeol felt his ears go red. 

"Are you wearing contacts?"

"Yeah."

"You weren't wearing them last night, you wore your glasses. That's why I couldn't recognize you right away. Well. Mind switching now? It'll fit better."

It was ridiculous how Chanyeol just switched from contacts to glasses without protests. 

"And I love this collar," Baekhyun walked up to him and undid the first two buttons from his half-collar. "Hmm, better. You have any accessories?"

"Uh…"

"My friends are very serious about weekend parties, you'll be surprised by the amount of effort they put in. They'll appreciate it if you showed you cared too. But no pressure, I mean, don't make yourself uncomfortable or anything. You already look really good so I don't think you need to worry, plus I'm sure everyone would just appreciate you being there…"

Baekhyun was babbling and it was so adorable, Chanyeol was shamelessly just staring without being the least bit discreet about it. 

He ended up wearing the silver necklace his sister got him last year on his birthday. Half a heart, the other half was on Yuna's wrist. 

They arrived at Chen's apartment in town. It was… not what Chanyeol expected, at all. Chen, the one with the catlike smile, wore a Peter Pan outfit, all white, with white antlers on his head instead of the hat. He padded barefoot as he welcomed Baekhyun and Chanyeol inside. Some of the others were familiar faces Chanyeol had seen earlier at the auditorium. A Medusa with white dreadlocks and a white snakeskin-like dress contrasting her brilliant ebony skin. A Lucifer in a white suit and tarred feet. Two Victorian ghosts much like Baekhyun but very differently dressed. A guy dressed as honest-to-God Edgar Allan Poe with a fake moustache, looking ready to attend his own wedding in a three piece embroidered suit. The woman on his side dressed as a bride, probably the cousin. And then there was Minseok serving wine wearing a white fur coat and the crown of a king. 

Well. This was. Something. 

"I should kick you out for not wearing even a thread of white," Minseok said. "But you look good, and you're carrying the cake, so I'll overlook this time."

"Don't mind him, you look perfect," Chen laughed with genuine delight. Everyone else agreed. 

"Help me with the cake," Baekhyun gestured towards the kitchen with his head and Chanyeol followed. 

Baekhyun had made two cakes but decorating them and bringing them over would have been a disaster. So he put everything in containers, the cakes, the fondant, buttercream, chocolate and other decorations, and strapped them to the back seat of his car. This party was no joke. 

Chanyeol set down the containers on the kitchen counter, which was already full of dishes being prepared and ready to be set on the table. 

"I feel like I should have brought something," Chanyeol said to Baekhyun. 

"Well, at least you brought your wits," the tall lanky actor dressed like the ghost of Monte Christo said as he handed a glass of white wine to Chanyeol. 

"You having flashbacks of your initiation, Jongin?" Chen laughed as he stirred some kind of soup in a pot. 

"Jesus, don't remind me," Jongin shuddered and went back to sit with the others. 

Baekhyun layered and put cream on the cake. Then fondant. Then carefully crafted cream flowers, roses and white chocolate feathers. Chanyeol stood there in awe, occasionally handing over whatever Baekhyun asked for and watched the cakes turn into works of art. How? One man. How? 

One man who can sing and act and probably dance too, can bake and decorate cakes, sew and fit his own medieval style clothes, and kiss. 

This party was a bad idea. Chanyeol was glad he didn't miss it. Getting to know Baekhyun's friends and how Baekhyun acted around them was a serious thing. Chanyeol paid attention to every conversation and voiceless interaction. He really should be a bit more careful. He couldn't help looking at Baekhyun every chance he got. 

The internal conflict Chanyeol was having was driving him crazy. 

What was happening? 

[leejeongz]

Cravity confessing to their crush

😳nobody asked, nobody probably even cares, but here’s a lil something something for the most underrated boys on the entire planet hehe STAN CRAVITY😳

serim:

serim hosted the best parties, ever since your final years of school you’d always looked forward to his parties and his parties alone. you usually hated parties, all that loud music and obscene outfits, not to mention the copious amounts of alcohol involved and stupid games. but his were different, the music was always lowkey and chill, there was never too many people there, enough to stray away from a “social gathering” but not too many. drinking alcohol was always optional, there was never any pressure to drink or join in on the games. usually you and serim sat out, he hated the games too, they’re “outdated and cringe” according to him, which you had to agree with.

you had received his invite last weekend and you hoped nothing had changed. serim had helped you pick out an outfit that evening, you struggled picking between two choices so you called him and he let you know which he thought you’d look best in. upon arrival, he made sure to make a sarcastic comment about your “fantastic fashion sense” and a real compliment to follow. you walked into the party, you were always the first to arrive anywhere so the lack of people didn’t shock you. “sit down” serim said to you pointing to his new sofa, bold of him to put that out for a party, you thought. “want a drink? a mocktail perhaps?” he asked. you didn’t really have a choice, he was stood there with two strawberry coloured drinks in his hands, ready to hand one over. you asked if you should wait until everyone else arrived, but that’s when he let you know of his sneaky little plan. “it’s been so long since it was just us, i wanted to chill with you alone but i thought you would have thought it was weird if i asked you just to come over. i knew you wouldn’t think it was weird to ask you to a party, so here we are”. you didn’t noticed, during his explaining his arm had found its way over your shoulders. “i’ve been busy too, would have done this sooner, but ya know, idol and all” he joking bragged. your cheeks were going a bright shade of red, you knew it and you couldn’t hide it.

you spent most of the night in that comfortable position, your cheeks were no longer red and you started to feel at home with his arm draped over you. he’d put on a film, it was one of his favourites and had to keep checking that you were watching it. everytime he sensed you were smiling, he cheered a little on the inside, he’d made you happy and that made him happy. he got a little carried away at one point though, kissing your temple in response to your smile at the film. the smile didn’t disappear after the kiss, your eyes didn’t leave the screen, honestly you didn’t know how to act so you were trying to play it cool. meanwhile, serim was spluttering some nonsense by the side of you “i was too engrossed and it was funny and you looked cute and it was too much for me and” his verbal diarrhoea never failed to make you laugh for real. your laugh shut him up too. “what i’m trying to say is, y/n, that i really like you and i’d love for you to be mine so i can kiss you like that more”

allen:

you weren’t sick, you just weren’t feeling yourself. you had been really down recently, with no real reason to explain your lethargic behaviour, apart from homework but what’s new there. you didn’t even have the energy to text anyone, and if you did you only texted your crush, allen. he knew you weren’t doing great just from how you were texting, you never directly told him but he knew. your texts were shorter than usual, you used a lot less emojis and your replies took so much longer than normal. he could tell the effort was there thought, and he knew he was the only person you were texting. at first, he thought he’d done something wrong. he started to become dry too, but you didn’t allow for that and told him that it made you sad when he didn’t talk to you much.

a few days later, he was at your door. you heard him talking to your mother but it was too muffled to understand. you tried hard to figure out what they were saying while you sat slumped over a piece of work you’d been doing for hours. he didn’t tell you he was coming over, maybe he just needs something from your mum, you thought. nope. he knocked at your bedroom door a few seconds later and came in after you said so. your mouth naturally formed a smile, it was the first time you’d properly smiled in weeks. he was so happy to see you smiling. he mirrored the smiled back to you as you sat on the bed and patted the space next to you for him to sit. he revealed a basket from behind him and placed it on your desk, onto of your now irrelevant homework, before taking the seat next to you. his arms immediately wrapped around you and you practically fell into his chest. it was comforting, he smelled nice and his breathing steadied yours. he put his lips on your head, your hair smelt nice, he thought, taking an excessively large and LOUD inhale. you pulled away a shot him a “wtf was that” look. he giggled shyly and told you that he liked the smell of your hair. you shrugged and laughed with him.

“what’s with the basket, little red riding hood?” you asked, not even realising the colour of his hoodie fit perfectly with the name. you laughed a little to yourself, trying to concentrate on his response.

“well i thought i might cheer you up with a few of your favourite things” he said before listing numerous things in the basket. he knew you so well, you thought, you could cry right now. “it’s the least i could do for my favourite person” he whispered shyly. “i hate knowing that your sad” he brushed some hair out of your face and smiled “you’re too pretty to be sad” he paused for a while, he seemed to be debating what to say next. he thought about that one time you got stroppy when he stopped texting as much, using that as his evidence that you felt the same as him. “i really like you, and i know i can make you happy, please will you be mine?” he asked, confidently this time, with your hands now in his and a huge smile on his face.

jungmo:

it was never jungmo’s intention to have a rumour spread about him... or was it???

he realised he had a crush on you a few days after you helped him out with something. you’d been all he thought about since, you were in his dreams, and he loved it. he’s tried sleeping after he woke up just so he could carry on his dreams about you, it never worked and he was always woken up again, but it was worth the try. you felt exactly the same way, you’d liked him for longer, that’s why you helped him out in the first place and it was pretty obvious that you like him at this point, but that was the first time you’d ever felt that spark between you two, that certain electricity.

it didn’t take jungmo long to tell his friends about his crush on you. soon everyone knew, your friends, your parents, even your neighbours fish. you’d heard the rumours, of course you had they were everywhere, but you thought it was just a joke. you tried to avoid jungmo as much as possible, you thought he’d taken advantage of your feelings and so you didn’t want anything to do with him, hoping your liking for him would disappear. it didn’t.

you were heading to the corner shop one afternoon with your friends from class, as you always did on a weekday to stock up on chocolate to get you though the rest of the day. jungmo, who had memorised your day, was stood outside the shop. you thought he’d just be waiting for his friends since this was also his local shop and so you tried to ignore him as much as possible.

“oh y/n, fancy seeing you here” he laughed as if he hadn’t planned this for days. “i think we should talk yeah? what do you say?” he held out his hand, indicating that he was going to take you somewhere else, but you both knew there was nothing around.

your friends were suspicious of his behaviour and so they started to stand up for you. “whatever you have to say you can say it in front of us” was the basic message.

he looked between them for a bit and look at you for confirmation. you nodded and told him to go on. he gulped loudly and started to fidget with the position of his sleeves. “well i just wanted to say that, the rumours are true. i never denied them even though that’s what you thought, i would never” he confessed. you blinked a few times and your friends seemed to be convinced. they left you and him alone, now cheering for this relationship from the shop window. “i actually do like you. like for real. i don’t know how else to convince you, it’s all on you now, y/n, the ball is in your court.”

woobin:

your phone buzzed. you jumped at it rather quickly, despite trying to not seem suspicious in front of your friends. there were 5 of you sat in the practice room, even though you weren’t an idol yourself, you still got on very well with the other 4 and you could all read each other like a book.

“who’s that?” woobin questioned. he pointed at your phone as jungmo hit his arm.

“wow, way to NOT be jealous, woobin” jungmo laughed before going wide eyed, realising he’d pretty much just exposed woobin.

you brushed over the comment, you didn’t want to think too deeply into it and get your hopes up. “it’s just a school friend” you responded to woobin with a smile. “they need a place dance so i said they could come here and practice, i hope you guys don’t mind.” since your friends knew her, well except jungmo and woobin since they didn’t go to school, you thought it would be okay.

when she arrived you all went to say hello and went back to doing your own things. however, you couldn’t help but notice woobin’s wandering eyes falling on your friend and their dancing. you were SO jealous but what could you do. jungmo could tell you were jealous, the short snappy responses really gave it away. in his eyes, the damage had already been done, he’d exposed woobin, why not expose you too, maybe then you’d both stop being blind.

“y/n, can’t woobin just appreciate some good dancing?” he said, bringing everyone’s eyes to you, who was staring at woobin with an angry expression. the room went silent apart from the slight music from your friends headphones. after a few throat clears and awkward exists, it ended up just being you and woobin in the room, this was officially the most humiliating moment of your life.

he looked at you and then back at the ground again, his eyes looking focused on one tiny spec of dust on the floor, he seemed to be concentrating on it so hard but he was actually just trying to form a cohesive sentence in his brain to express his feelings to you.

“i’d never look at anyone else the way i look at you, i know you don’t notice it, but i adore you” you said out loud. he didn’t mean for it to come out, but after you told him you liked him too he was actually pretty grateful that he said it.

wonjin:

it was a big birthday for you and you were getting ready for your meal. you invited over your best friend, wonjin, to get ready with you at your house. your room was a mess, there was barely room for two people to stand without breaking something or stepping on clothes. this was rare for you, but you couldn’t find the outfit you had planned to wear and so the only option was to turn your whole room over, with help from wonjin of course. you finally found it and went into the bathroom to put it on while wonjin put on his freshly ironed shirt. he was excited for you, butterflies going crazy in his stomach.

you returned back to your room with the outfit on, a little higgledy-piggledy but nothing that wonjin couldn’t sort for you. you then realised you needed to paint your nails. first attempt: failure. it went all over your fingers as well as your nails, there was no way you could go out like that.

“i can do them for you” wonjin stated, sitting besides you on your bed in front of your desk. you thought the gesture was sweet, but you were too stressed to let anyone touch you right now. “y/n, let me paint your nails” wonjin was practically begging at this point, and you couldn’t deny it was kind of de-stressing you. you handed him the brush and bottle and let him do his thing. “you hands are so pretty, y/n” he complimented you for the nth time that afternoon. he did a pretty good job of your nails, they looked really nice, way better than yours looked before. you thanked him and put them under the light so they would dry quickly.

the whole time he was painting your nails, wonjin was just thinking about what your hands would look like in his. it wasn’t the first time he’d thought about it, certainly wouldn’t be the last either.

your nails had finished drying pretty quickly, almost as quick as wonjin come up with a master plan on how to hold your hand for they first time.

“let’s compare hand sizes” he giggled, holding his hand up. yours pressed against his, his slightly bigger than yours but not much. after laughing about it for a short while, you didn’t even noticed he’d interlocked his hand with yours.

the laughter stopped briefly and he kissed your hand, “that tiny hand of yours compared to mine is ALMOST as cute as i think you are as a whole” he confessed. “happy birthday, angel” he wanted to kiss your lips this time, and so he waited for any sort of sign from you to do so.

you smiled and said thank you in a sweet tone, and that was enough of a sign.

minhee:

minhee was the most handsome boy you knew, the most handsome boy you could ever imagine even. he’d gotten into contact with you recently after accidentally voting for something on your instagram story when he didn’t mean to. the picture was of you, it was edited in a pretty way and you wanted your friends’ opinion of your new style of editing. after apologising, he kept the conversation going, it was unexpected but you didn’t mind, you tried not to let it die out either. you still hadn’t spoken in person though, there were lots of opportunities where you could have, but you were just too nervous and he radiated awkwardness. you were happy just texting, even if you were in the same room. you’d made eye contact a few times, exchanged a few funny looks in response to the other’s message.

you were setting the table for dinner one evening when you received a message from minhee that made you p a n i c.

“why have we never spoken in person?” it read. it only then dawned on you that you’d been talking for the best part of a year and you were still only pretty much online friends. you stopped laying out the cutlery and stood with your phone in your hands, preparing to type.

he waited at his end for a response. he was sat on his couch, his heart was beating faster than ever but he tried to remain chilled on the outside. when you didn’t respond for 5 minutes, typing and clearing thousands of messages, he took it upon himself to be the bold one.

“come over, we can have a sleep over if you want. it will be cute” he wrote. you panicked once again, it was kinda extreme for the first time talking but you agreed anyway. why did you do that, you thought only after you sent it. you hadn’t even asked your parents. somehow you convinced them to let you sleep over, it wasn’t minhee house that you’d mentioned specifically but pft details what are they?!

your dad dropped you off at the end of the street and you walked the short distance to minhee’s house. he was stood waiting for you at the window in a cute pair of pjs. when you got into his house, no one could shut you two up. you talked for hours, laughing about how weird your online friendship was. in a second though, the laughter stopped, his face became serious and he looked you dead in the eyes.

“when i voted on that thing, i wasn’t lying” he said. you wrecked your brain trying to remember what it was but you couldn’t. he went on to explain, gathering you couldn’t remember “you posted a selfie with the options “pretty or not” and i voted pretty of course. i meant it. you’re really pretty, the prettiest person i’ve ever seen maybe” he looked at you, his eyes were full of hope. you couldn’t stop yourself from confessing back, it felt right and there was nothing you wanted more than to be with him. once the seriousness was over, you corrected him on what the voting was actually for, but he didn’t care.

hyeongjun:

the boy you now knew as one of your closest friends was one of the first people to talk to you at your new school. you’ll never forget your first day, he came up to you with a bright smile and said hello. from that moment on you’d had a crush on him, he was a total cutie how could you not. since that day you’d spent a lot of time together. you studied together, you snacked together, sometimes you even napped together. he was perfect and you couldn’t ask for a better friend, you just wish you were more than that. he did too. ever since he laid eyes on you, you were the only person occupying his brain.

after one particularly long day at school, he invited you over to his house to chill for a bit. you were going to say no but then again you didn’t really want to go home to your sister and her new boyfriend doing unspeakable things while your parents were at work. you let out a shy yes and sent you sister a text telling her where you were.

you arrived at the dorms, the others, who you were well acquainted with, said a quick hello before getting back to their prior activities. you looked tired and so hyeongjun’s first suggestion was to nap. you felt bad, just going to his place to sleep, so you refused the offer, instead suggesting you played some video games or watched tv. a concerned hyeongjun decided the latter was probably better right now, he couldn’t force a loss on mario kart at the best of times, nevermind when you were sleepy. you slouched slightly on the couch, hyeongjun doing the same, controller in his hand. he hadn’t even picked a show yet when he felt your head hit his shoulder. he smiled at you and turned the tv off. he watched you for a little while, occasionally pushing your hair behind your ear when needed. he called you beautiful many times, he even at one point kissed your nose.

“i really like you y/n, you’re the sweetest person ever, the best” he whispered to you before making sure no one heard him in the dorm, he couldn’t deal with their teasing about this, anything but this.

you smiled a little bit, laughing almost, but only out of awkwardness. yes you were tired, that’s why you put your head on his shoulder, it didn’t mean you were asleep.

he shot up immediately, very embarrassed. “there’s no need to be like that, hyeongjun, it’s okay, i think you’re the sweetest person too, and i really like you”.

taeyoung:

every year you wished you received a valentine’s card from someone who wasn’t your mum who felt sorry for you. you didn’t make it obvious like some people at your school, you didn’t constantly check your locker, that was just obsessive, you thought. there was one boy at school who everyone fawned over, taeyoung. he was known for being very secretive about his crushes though, he never told anyone anything about his love life. you couldn’t help but fall for him. he did a dance performance once and that was it, whipped. his eyes were cute and his smile even cuter. you’d exchange eye contact in the corridor sometimes, maybe even a small “hi”. in class you’d talk to each other on the odd occasion, the new seating plan now making that more often, but you weren’t particularly close. you didn’t think you were good enough to even be friends with him, but he tried his hardest to make it happen.

valentine’s day rolled around again, friday 14th february, it was your last year in school, your last chance to receive some cliche card or letter or SOMETHING. your day started off pretty normally, you walked to school and arrived at your first lesson, however, your teacher had plans to make your day much much worse. “presentations next tuesday, it will go towards your final grade, work with the people on your table, good luck”. you looked up and your eyes met with the boy who sat opposite you, taeyoung. “sorry, we have a thing next tuesday” you heard the twins (that sat on your table too) announce. that just left you and taeyoung to present. you worked hard together, twins included, in the limited lesson time, but had concluded that you’d have to finish it out of school hours, just the two of you, since their “thing” conveniently spread all over the course of the next week.

you tried not to think about it much during the rest of the day and decided having fun with your friends at lunch was more important, you’d even forgotten the date, it seemed that these presentations had shook the whole school. you went to your locker at the end of the day when a small note came flying out. you knew whose hand writing it was immediately, taeyoung.

“you don’t need to worry about this presentation, y/n. i saw how nervous you looked when miss bitch told us about it, so i’ll do all the talking, it’s okay. we could finish writing it at that coffee shop down the street, a date maybe? then i can tell you about how much i’ve liked you for years hehe”

upon reading the note you texted him a “yes!!!” straight away and headed to the coffee shop with a spring in your step.

seongmin:

your best friend seongmin had asked you to prom, as friends, he made sure you knew you were just going as friends. you had basically made a deal that you would go together, even if either of you had proper dates, because you didn’t want to leave school without being together that whole magical evening.

seongmin showed up at your house wearing a black suit and a red tie, accompanied by his mother who had a huge smile on her face. the pair of you had a very awkward conversation while your parents watched over you two, as you do, before taking a few photos together. you’d be lying if you said his arm around your waist didn’t bring butterflies to your stomach. you were sure one of these days you’d accidentally reveal your crush on him, but you hoped to GOD it wasn’t this evening, you didn’t want to ruin it.

you went into your room to grab your phone and some make up, just incase. seongmin followed.

“can you put me some lip tint on, please?” he asked, glaring at your lips with his sparkling eyes. you couldn’t say no to him. he puckered his lips as you gently brushed the tint over them, you really wanted to kiss him right now. “you know” he was shut up by you continuing to lather his lips in red. he pushed your hand away in a dramatic way, rather expected given it was seongmin. “you know, you look really good tonight” he finished. you thanked him and returned the compliment. he fiddled with the closed lip tint that you threw on the bed next to him while you tried to find your phone. “i promised myself i’d tell you this before prom and i still have time so here goes” you were only half listening to him, still panicked because you couldn’t find your phone. “i really like you, y/n, and i think we should go to prom together... as a couple? if you want to, i don’t know why you wouldn’t but...” he let out a breath to shut himself up as his eyes followed you around your room. you didn’t react at first, only processing what he said about a minute after. you stopped searching and looked over to him sat on your bed. “i’d love to” you practically shouted, running over to hug him. he stood up and hugged you back. you noticed your phone on the bed, right where he was sat, but you didn’t really care at that point anymore, nothing was more important than this moment.

gifs aren’t mine

[moonttaeil]

the Einstein; teaser.

FRATHOUSE MASTERLIST.

If you were to ask Jungwoo how he found himself immersed into the frat life, he wouldn’t know how to answer you either. He is, to this day, confused as everyone else who knows that he is part of a fraternity. 

He still remembers his first day of college, his freshman year. Growing up and learning to have social skills wasn’t easy for a little genius like him. Ever since he learnt how to read and write perfectly at the age of three, he hadn’t stopped learning anything new everyday. He had been blessed with the power of knowledge, and an immense hunger for growing up and keep learning.

At the age of fifteen he had already been proposed to enter college, something his parents had kindly declined. Jungwoo kept repeating to them that he wanted to go to college— he wanted to keep learning, he felt bored in high school. He needed something new to stimulate his brain, but they were strict on their decision. 

He had to wait another three years to enter college, but that didn’t meant he lost his time during those three years. He already knew everything that there was to be taught in high school, that’s why he invested his time in learning a lot of different things that had nothing to do with school. He learnt French and Spanish in one year, he decided to grow different kind of plants in his house, finding the stranger ones the most beautiful ones. He played chess with the elders every evening when he went to visit his grandparents at the residency, and he also managed to reach his goal of reading one thousand books in three years. 

He achieved all of that but the only thing he didn’t work on was his social skills, which were almost non existent. When he first stepped on campus he was accompanied by his parents, who were still nervous on how their son would react by the drastic change of environment. He had always been left aside in his hometown, but they didn’t want the story to repeat itself on this new fresh start. 

His mother’s hands were trembling once he hugged her for the last time after they said their goodbyes. Jungwoo, on the other hand, had a bright smile on his face. He couldn’t believe that it was actually happening, this was actually real life and not one of his multiple dreams on coming to college. He could already feel himself getting excited by everything there was to learn. 

The only thing he didn’t know was the fate that really expected him. 

His first night on the dorm, he couldn’t sleep. He was accustomed— when he didn’t sleep in his bed, it was impossible for him to drift off. But that night was different. The loud noises of people screaming and laughing that was coming from one of the rooms on his floor made it impossible for him to even close his eyes. 

That night he sat straight on his bed, looking at the door of his room. What if he went out and kindly asked them to tone it down? What if the went out there and tried to actually talk with people he didn’t know? All kind of intrusive thoughts invaded his mind as he tried to solve the dilemma on what to do. 

He knew very well he would met with those kind of people. The ones who attended college only for the parties, drugs and sex. He didn’t know those kind of people— well, he didn’t have much friends, not even back home. But he thought it was stupid to lose your time by spending it wasted and destroying your body with all kind fo substances. “Ugh” he sighed under his breath as he took the handle of the door and swung it open, making his way to the room where all of the trouble seemed to be going on. 

He knocked once, but no one seemed to notice. He knocked once again and laughs erupted from inside. A tall guy opened the door, shirtless. Jungwoo’s eyes widened once he saw the image before him, and he tried to look everywhere but at the guy. He could see a lot of people inside, all of them were dressed, thankfully for him. It seemed like they were ready to go out. “How can I help you my dude?” He tall shirtless guy said before him, drawing Jungwoo’s attention once again. 

“Um— i was actually going to ask if you guys could tone—“ 

“No way, dude here’s a freshman you didn’t catch!” He tall guy screamed to the back, making another boy appear from behind him, hanging his arm around the shoulders of the shirtless guy. “Where were you hiding yourself lil’ boy?” He asked, titling his head to the side. He could see the boys’ eyes were red, maybe form the alcohol, maybe from the drugs. He couldn’t know. “I was in my room— but hey I wanted to ask if you guys could—“ 

“I’m so sorry we forgot about you!” The tall guy said loudly, taking Jungwoo by his forearm. “I think everyone’s here now! Let’s go!” He said dragging Jungwoo, who was still dressed in his pajamas, with him. “Hey! Where are you going! I have to go back—“

“What do you mean where are we going? Don’t you know what happens tonight?” The tall boy cut him off turning around to look at him. The people inside the room slowly started to go out, all of them were dressed in their pajamas. Another boy stopped behind the tall shirtless boy who was holding Jungwoo by his arm. “It’s the NCT fraternity’s welcome party for every freshman in campus!” He smirked down at Jungwoo, who already wanted to run away ever since he heard the word party. 

“Oh, guys I’m flattered you’re inviting me but uh—“ 

“C’mon! We’re hosting this for you and you’re turning it down? Kinda rude if I say” the one who appeared from behind laughed. “I’m Yuta, by the way” he extended his hand, waiting for Jungwoo to shake it. “And I’m Jaehyun” the shirtless guy who was still holding him by his forearm introduced himself after the boy named Yuta. “I believe we’re a year older than you, so you better listen to your elders, boy” Jaehyun spoke pointing at Jungwoo’s noise, making Yuta laugh from behind. 

Jungwoo’s smile had already disappeared long ago, and his furrowed brows were the only thing that gave away his current mood. 

That night was still a blur for Jungwoo. He had drunk for the first time, but he had also saved a life for the first time. The darkness of all the rooms, the loud music and all of the people really overwhelmed all of his spirit, making him dizzy. He had never felt that way, and he swore to himself more than once that night that he wouldn’t drink again, ever. 

His feet were dragging against the floor as he tried to look for the front door of the big house where the party was being hosted. He wanted to get out of there as soon as possible, but the loud banging inside of his head made it almost impossible for him to even open his eyes completely. 

Suddenly, the music stopped completely and the darkness of the room disappeared once someone turned all the lights on. “We need help!” Someone shouted, making the room panic as everyone gathered around someone in the middle of the living room. “Please stand back! We need help!” They kept screaming, and those screams pierced inside of Jungwoo’s mind, who was leaning back on the far end of the living room. 

“He still has pulse!” Someone screamed back. “Please— everyone leave the room! Johnny! Call an ambulance!” 

Everything was going too quick for Jungwoo to react— but when he saw the body of Jaehyun, the one who had dragged him to that hell, on the floor, it seemed like all of his senses came back to him in a rush. Jungwoo blinked twice before stepping on both his feet, slowly walking towards the body that was laying on the floor. “Didn’t I say for you to go out?!” The boy who was crunching next to him screamed in Jungwoo’s face, but he didn’t pay attention to it. 

All of his attention was now set on how to help him— how to save him. His mind had completely shut down reality, and the only thing that existed at that moment was a problem to solve— how to make Jaehyun breathe again. It wasn’t something difficult for him, since he had already learnt years ago how to do CPR on people— a hobby he had during his high school years. He placed his head on Jaehyun’s chest and he could still properly hear his heart beat, that’s when he started. 

And that’s how everything started for him. Jaehyun was grateful to no end for Jungwoo’s intervention, and managed to convince all of his fraternity brothers to let him in, even when Jungwoo himself had said multiple times that he didn’t want to be part of the fraternity. After being followed by Jaehyun everywhere for a whole month, he finally had to give in. 

What he didn’t know is how grateful he would be for forming part of that family. All of his brothers accepted him for what he was: a little genius. None of them called him a werido, none of them made fun of him. It was the other way around, almost every time they came to him looking for help— or even advice. They all respected Jungwoo for his persona, something he had never experienced before. 

That’s how his real life started— or at least that’s what he liked to think. That’s how things were for him now. 

[imaginedxlan]

Alpha Pt. 3 (Grayson Dolan)

a/n: I think its actually been two years since I wrote the first two parts of alpha but idc I’m actually in college now i feel like I have actual insight on how Mr. Alpha of ATO would act around y/n. 

After their date, or forced casual hangout according to y/n, Grayson doesn’t necessarily keep his end of the deal. 

y/r/n = your roommate’s name

warning(s): sexual allusions, cussing, drinking

(part one/part two)

_______________________________

When you return home from your, well you’re not actually sure what to call it, with Grayson, your roommate immediately sits up to see your face, looking for any indication of how your night went. She throws her chem textbook to the side and give you a look as to say well?

You close the door behind you before putting your face in your hands and taking a seat at your desk. You keep shaking your head, there is not a chance in hell you have feelings for this boy. The boy who preyed on a freshman at her very first college party. The boy who stalked you around all of your classes, got your phone number and somehow found out all about your life in the span of a week. You keep reminding yourself of the weird and uncomfortable things he’s done to distract you from the way he planned out an entire evening for the two of you, or that he actually helped you find your sister and her friends or how good he looked when the setting sun hit his tan skin in his topless Jeep only hours ago. Jesus, y/n, snap out of it. 

“Come on, spill!” Your roommate begs, she had to deal with your ranting about not wanting to go all afternoon, she deserves to at least know how it went. “What did you do? What was he like? How’d he dress? Oh my god did you hook up?”

“Ew, y/r/n, no!” You gasp at her last question. How could she expect you to hookup with someone you hate? “It was fine. We ate dinner in some park then he took me to that neon sign museum. Nothing fancy, he had a shirt on which was a first. He acted nice but I don’t buy it for a second.”

“Neither,” She replies, knowing the boy only from how you’ve described him. “He’s probably just trying to get in your pants so he can bug your sister about it.”

She’s right. You can’t fall into his trap, he has ulterior motive. They always do. You just have to go on and find some boy on your floor to kiss and get him out of your head for good. Every part of you wishes your sister hadn’t broken up with her boyfriend, he would’ve given Grayson a piece of his mind if he knew that he was bothering you. Unfortunately for you and her ex, y/s/n does not like to be tied down and she needed to “have her fun” for her last first semester. You and y/r/n talk for a little while longer, about classes and whatnot, but mostly end up talking about Grayson again. 

“We should go to bed.” You finally say, yawning and looking down at your phone screen that read 12:47 am. Your roommate huffs, obviously wanting to hear more about your night with the infamous Alpha Dog of ATO. “Recruitment starts tomorrow, we have to meet our groups at eight in the morning, remember?”

“I know, I know,” She replies, slipping out of her bed so she can gather her things to get ready for bed. You grab you toiletries bag as well and head toward the bathroom with her. “We’re talking about this tomorrow, don’t think I’ve let up.”

Recruitment happens over the span of four days, this weekend and next. It’s a dry rush period so no potential new members can be seen on frat property, giving you a good enough reason to avoid Grayson. Going into recruitment you’re already around ninety-two percent sure you’ll end up in Delta Gamma, just like your sister and your mom. The next few days of recruitment go well, you meet new friends from your rush group who help through the stressful process. Throughout the week you get sporadic texts from none other than Grayson Dolan wishing you luck with those days rounds, giving you unsolicited pointers of where to pref, and telling you that he saw you walking on greek row. You don’t respond to any, hoping he gives up on trying to woo you. So much for leaving you alone after one date. You pref Delta Gamma and Kappa Alpha Theta, but end up ranking DG first, not wanting to end your legacy but also because you felt you fit in most there. It was no surprise when you got a bid. Your sister is over the moon, shrieking over how her biological sister is now her deegster. You still have to get used to the lingo.

You come to find during bid day, which is Space Cowboy themed of course, that your new pledge class will be going out for bid-night with your bid day bigs. You don’t understand half of the things they’re saying to you, the language of sorority girls still lost on you. You’re added to a GroupMe with the new pledges of Alpha Tau Omega, just when you thought you could escape that fraternity as a whole, your bid night is with them. You almost immediately get a text from Grayson.

following in sissy’s steps? see you tonight miss delta gamma, anchor down ;)

What is it with him and these nicknames? You show your sister and she fake gags, saying she can’t believe he’s still texting you after all this time. She still has no idea about last weekend, you intend to keep it that way. When you get back to your dorm, you and your roommate talk all about bid day, she ended up going Kappa. Her bid night was with Phi Gamma Delta, or Fiji. If only you could have been so lucky. She can’t help but snort at the fact that you’re going to ATO tonight, she says it’s the universal pulling you and Dolan together. 

Your sister won’t being coming out with you tonight, having a lab tomorrow morning that she simply cannot miss. You’re partly grateful for it, now Grayson can’t let it slip to her that you two went out together. You end up getting ready in the room of a girl of your floor who you met today at bid day, wanting to base your outfit on someone else’s to blend in as much as possible. With the massive group of girls coming into his house, surely he won’t be able to find you. You meet up with your bid day big along with the girl on your floor’s and you all walk toward the ATO house together. You’re nervous, extremely nervous, but you don’t show it. As you near the house, you’re met with the mix of conflicting basses coming from any frat basement on the block. There are a few girls waiting outside the familiar house, and thats when you see it.

Grayson Dolan at the door, personally greeting every single one of your new sisters, his eyes scanning over every single one of the freshman walking into the door, earning him plenty of groans from the older girls. You don’t mean to say anything out loud, but you let an oh god slip. Your bid day big turns to you with a confused look.

“My sisters warned me about him,” You tell her, which is half of the truth. “Real scumbag I’ve heard.”

She just laughs, not even needing to agree with you for you to know she feels the same way about him. The closer you get to the front door, the more your stomach aches. If only you could be in your dorm watching Barbie Mermaidia with your roommate like last night. You try your best to hide within the group you came with, but it’s no use, he has his single file, one over strategy down to a science. 

“Hello you.” He greets you with a shit-eating grin. You hope the girls with you don’t catch him singling you out. “I’ll see you inside.”

“Fuck off Dolan,” Your bid day big calls over to him. “She’s not one of your play things.”

She pulls you inside before Grayson can say anything else. Luckily he doesn’t follow the two of you either. She gets you a drink and you socialize with the girls and some of the guys. You’re more focused on making girl friends tonight, as much as you’ve loathed your time at ATO, finding a group of girls to wander around greek row on a Saturday night is and essential part to your freshman year plan. You don’t even realize how drunk you’re getting, you follow your sister’s order to never take a cup from a brother, only ever allowing something you or one of your sisters have mixed to travel down your throat. You recall the words of your sisters earlier in the night, ‘bid night means black out ladies.’ You certainly don’t want to black out, but getting a little tipsy won’t hurt anyone. Toward the middle of the night you’re all dancing, body to body in their packed and sweaty basement. You have to admit, you’re actually kind of having fun. When you feel a pair of hands dig into your hips you don’t even flinch, simply moving your hips along to whatever shitty remix is coming from the massive speakers. You swing yourself around to face the boy and wrap your arms around his neck while his stay on your hips. You don’t recognize him, but from what you can see under the dim colored lights he’s cute. Mostly everyone in ATO is. He gives you a grin, letting one of his hands travel closer toward your ass, you don’t mind it, at least it’s not Grayson.

Grayson. Where is that boy? He said he’d meet you inside and it’s been at least an hour and a half. You don’t know why your mind is suddenly wandering off to Grayson. How he must look right now, definitely shirtless with some stupid phrase painted across his chest. How the sweat from the sheer amount of bodies in the house is probably making his tan skin glisten under the LED lights. How his hands are probably wrapped around a red solo cup so perfectly. You don’t even realize you��re biting your lip until your lips are connected with the boy you’re dancing with. You don’t hesitate to kiss him back, suddenly feeling all hot and bothered after picturing Grayson, wherever he is in this house. Snap out of it. Finding Grayson even remotely attractive would go against everything you stand for, your sister would probably smack your head to make sure there is still a brain in there. 

You keep drinking, everything practically going down like water at this point. Your speech is slurring and the room spins around you. You leave the boy you’re dancing with for another drink, finding the stairs to the main floor and gripping onto the handle for dear life. You stumble towards where some boy is pouring a mystery liquid into a cup and stop in front of it. Your new drink is swiftly taken from you and placed back on the table and you’re pulled from the crowd of people.

“How much have you had to drink.” It’s Grayson. He looks so good, you think. He’s shouting over the music for you to answer him. “I’m serious y/n, I need a number.”

You try and do the mental math but the only clear thought in your brain at the moment is how good he looks with his shirt off. You start to count on your fingers but lose track at five so you just shrug. He rolls his eyes, knowing that if anything were to happen to you your sister would beat his ass like it was somehow his fault.

“Why do you care, dad.” You mock him as he tries to think about what he should do with you. “I have to drink this much, I’m in a sos-sorotity you know?”

He can’t help but laugh at the way you’re butchering the words coming out of your mouth, the slurring evident on your tongue. “Okay, miss sorotity, follow me.” He grasps your hand, interlocking your fingers and begins to pull you up another flight of stairs that you’ve never been up. This house is massive. He pulls you into a room and locks the door behind him. Even with the room spinning you can make out a few features. A bed with a white comforter that lies low to the ground, a big frame holding what looks like a yearbook page of girls, and a lava lamp. 

“Is this your room?” You ask, leaning up against the wall for some stability. He just nods, fiddling with something in his drawers. “I’m not having, s-sex with you Grayson. You can’t make me.”

“I don’t want to have sex with you, sweetheart.” He mumbles back, pulling an article of clothing out of the open drawer. Once you process what he says all you can think is ouch. He’s fucked practically every girl on at this school, are you so repulsive you’re excluded from the campus wide Grayson Dolan body count? “Oh don’t be sad, I meant I’m not having sex with you tonight, y/n. Contrary to your hilarious nickname you came up with for me the first night we met, I don’t fuck drunk girls.”

You realize you may have said ouch out loud, have you been doing that all night? He’s only telling you this because he’s almost one hundred percent certain you’ll remember none of this in the morning. Between the jungle juice and natty seltzers, the only thoughts in your brain tomorrow will be getting to a toilet bowl immediately. He pulls out a shirt and a pair of boxers and tosses them your way. You don’t catch them, just start stripping your shirt off.

“Jesus, y/n, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were giving me a little strip tease.” He jokes with you, turning his head away from you, letting you keep at least part of your dignity. “Tell me when you’re done.”

“I can’t put them on, Grayson.” You whine, your drunken brain unable to comprehend how to put on a t shirt. You pick it up off the ground and hold it out for him to grab. “Help me.”

He huffs out and takes the shirt from your hands, he should at least be getting paid for babysitting you like he is. He pulls his shirt over your head and forces your arms through their respective holes. As he’s about to walk away from you again, you put and point at your shoes and jeans. He rolls his eyes and pulls both your shoes and socks of both feet before carefully undoing your zipper and shimmying the fabric off your sweaty legs, then pulling the pair of boxers over your hips. He’s usually taking underwear off girls, not putting a second pair on. His breathe hitches at the oddly intimate moment he’s sharing with you, you won’t remember any of it but he doesn’t usually do this. You suddenly feel very tired, almost collapsing on top of Grayson before he steadies your hips. He pulls back his comforter for you to slide under. You sink into his mattress and smile at your need for a bed being fulfilled. The lights shut off and you hear him unlock and open the door.

“Wait!” You call after him, making him stop in his tracks. “Can you stay?”

“You’re one needy chick when you’re drunk, huh?” He asks, walking back into the room and locking the door behind him again. “You’re lucky you’re pretty, you know that?”

You just give him a cheesy smile, not sure if he can even see you in the dark room, but you don’t care. You hear his shoes hit the ground and the bed dips next to you. You can still hear the music coming from the basement, it’s muffled but you can still make out every word. You roll over to face Grayson and he’s already looking at you.

“What’re you looking at?”

“You.”

A goofy grin graces your lips when he says it. If you were sober you’d probably protest, whack his arm or something, but now you don’t care. You let your index finger drag along his bicep, up over his shoulder and neck, around his face and then boop his nose. You can feel his face shift when he smiles. 

“You have a pretty smile,” The words leave your lips before you can even think if it’s an okay thing to say. He lets out a short laugh, finding your drunk self’s inability to filter your thoughts amusing. “You’re handsome, Grayson.”

“You’re drunk, y/n.” He teases you. “You need to stop talking before you say something you regret.”

You whine, faking a pout on your lips. “I think it when I’m not drunk too.”

He can’t contain his smile, pushing a piece of hair that has fallen into your face. “We’ll talk in the morning. Goodnight, y/n.”

You wake up with a pounding headache and no recollection of last night past kissing some boy in the basement of ATO. You rub your eyes, shielding them from the light coming in the large window. Large window? This isn’t your dorm, you’re not in your bed and that is certainly not your roommate passed out next to you.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck.” You whisper repeatedly as you try your best to slip out of the bed you’re currently in. Your shirt and jeans and shoes are strewn across the floor and your in someone else’s shirt and pants. Underwear is still on, two pairs now which is comforting. In your attempt to sneak out of whoever’s room this is you ram your knee into the dresser beside the door. “Goddamnit!”

Before you can continue gathering your things, the figure that you were just sleeping next to takes in a deep breath and let’s out a loud groan, stretching out his arms. “Y/n?”

You know that voice from anywhere, you’re so fucked. “Grayson?”

He sits up and runs his hands through his hair. The contrast of his tan skins against the white comforter is breathtaking. His hair is going in all different directions but he still looks good, how does he always looks good? His silver chain hangs loose around his neck and falls just belong his collar bone. You genuinely believe, at least physically, he is without flaws.

“Surprised?”

“Obviously I am!” You shout back, hurting your own head in the process. “Oh god, oh fuck, did we?”

“God, no, y/n.” He stops your spiralling. You let out a breath of relief that you didn’t even know you were holding. “You think I would have sex with you if I had any doubt that you would remember it in the morning? No, you were hammered and about to keep drinking and I saw where the situation was going so I room you out of it. End of story.”

“So I changed myself?”

“You were meant to, but you started whining like a three year old that you didn’t know how to put a shirt one.” He replies. You’re not really sure how to feel about it, but it’s better than the alternative. “I put your clothes on and put you to bed.”

You let out a sigh, plopping yourself back onto the bed now that you know who it belongs to. You wish you could remember last night, knowing you probably did and said some things in your drunken state that you’re sure you’ll regret if you ever hear of them. Grayson just looks at you, wondering what’s going on in your mind and thinking about what you said to him last night. How you complimented his smile and called him handsome. He couldn’t get it out of his mind. When you turn your body to face him, he scans your features. Hair a mess from both the dingy basement and the hours of sleep you just got, your mascara has collected under your eyes but you still look pretty.

“Stop looking at me like that.” You pull him from his thoughts of you, he didn’t even realize he was staring. He shakes his head and puts on his signature smirk to prevent you from thinking anything other than that he’s an asshole who’s mind is on girls 24/7. He has a reputation to keep and all.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re about to kiss me or something.”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you.”

“Oh fuck off, Dolan.” You scoff at him before he makes the decision to bring himself just inches from your face. So close that you can feel the warmth from his body. Your first instinct is to touch him somewhere, anywhere, but you don’t act on it. “What are you doing?”

“Just getting a better look,” He replies making your eyes roll. Anytime you think you’re letting yourself fall for him he says something gross. “Do you want me to be doing something?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, y/n.”

It’s silent. There’s nothing to say. Your chest is moving up and down at a rapid pace, you’re not sure why you can’t seem to catch your breath but you can’t. His eyes flicker between your and and your lips. Before you can stop yourself you reach your hand to sit on his cheek and inch your body closer to his. The closer you get the more you can feel his hot breathe on your lips and without a second thought you bring your lips to meet his. Your brain is fuzzy and your body feels like it’s on fire but it feels right.

It doesn’t take long for Grayson to kiss you back, he’s actually shocked you gave in given the way you ignored him for weeks. He rolls over so that he can steady himself with him one arm beside you and the other gripping your waist. You can still barely breathe and he notices. He pulls away from you and give you the biggest shit eating grin. “Can believe you gave in.”

“Shut up before I change my mind.”

[plus-size-reader]

House Party

Young! FP Jones x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1570 words

Warnings: none 

Summary: The reader has a huge crush on FP but she doesn't think he'll like her because she isn't like the girls he usually dates

———————————————————————————————————

As far as reputations went on the south-side, FP Jones was infamous. He was the youngest of his family to ever take over the serpent's gang and he didn’t go anywhere without a posse to prove it.

He was incredible, but you knew that he would never give you the time of day.

It just wasn’t how it worked.

In fact, you would be shocked if he even knew your name-even though you two had went to the same school all your lives and you lived in the same neighborhood.

You simply didn’t command attention like he did. No one paid attention when you walk past, and quite frankly, you preferred it that way.

Slipping under the radar was just how you rolled, it was much easier than having to deal with the ghoulies hanging on you, like they did with the popular girls or getting catcalled in the street.

In fact, you were hardly ever bothered when you walked the halls of Southside High school...until today.

Your step-sister, Julie had decided to throw a party and because she was much more popular than you, people actually showed up. However, when the doorbell rang for the fifteenth time tonight and you looked around to find Julz doing a keg stand-you decided to get the door.

It was probably just the rest of the football team. Apparently, they had stopped to pick up some beers and seeing as most of the south-side was here, you knew better than to leave them on the porch.

That wouldn’t go down well.

However, when you opened the door-there were no jocks to be found. Instead, one man stood in its wake, brown hair parted down the middle and a leather jacket hanging from his frame.

you were so shocked at first, blinking slowly as you tried to figure out if this was really happening or not.

It was FP in the flesh, the guy you’d been completely and totally infatuated with since middle school. You didn’t even know that Julie knew him, led alone that he would come to some party she threw.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, the words slipping from your lips before you even meant for them to.

He looked confused at your question, mostly just trying to figure out where he’d seen you before. Though, that look of confusion quickly morphed into a smirk that could have stopped your heart.

“This is where the party is right?” he checked, looking past your shoulder to the rowdy scene behind you. It was tame, compared to the things that he was used to but it could be interesting.

...If nothing else, he knew that he could find you if he got bored.

You nodded, trying to still your shaking hands as you let him in, pulling the door open all the way to make room for him before closing it. FP watched you, amusement in his gaze as he studied you.

He thought that you were in one of his classes, probably English though he didn’t attend very often.

One thing was bothering him though...he had never seen you at one of these parties before. By his standards, they were more like social gatherings but he didn’t mind.

It was better than going home to his drunk dad and a pile of dirty laundry he had to take care of-even if it wasn’t as eventful as a rager at the Wyrm.

FP just didn’t get it.

You’d never been at any of the other high school parties and now you were getting the door? It didn’t add up. However, when he took another look at you, he realized you weren’t attending this party at all.

Dressing your frame was a t-shirt, which hung low on your shoulders and fell just above your hip line and a pair of shorts. It wasn’t exactly typical of what girls wore to these things but there was something endearing about it.

You weren’t like any of the other girls here, and he thought it was cute, in a quirky sort of way.

“The drinks should be in the kitchen, I’m sure you’ll be able to find Julie” you gestured, instantly regretting coming down to get a glass of water and a snack.

You should have just stayed in your room where you belonged, because FP had just seen you in your pajamas, and probably thought that you were a total loser...not that that was a secret to begin with.

“You know Julie?” he wondered, not putting the pieces together. Julie was at least three years older than you two were, and he wasn’t sure how you knew her.

She didn’t usually make friends with underclassmen unless they could do something for her.

There it was.

That was the line that you dreaded in every conversation.

Your mom marrying Julie’s dad had been the worst thing to ever happen to you because every guy that talked to you now wanted to get to her. You should have known that FP would be no different.

Still, it sucked to hear it out loud.

“She’s my step-sister” you grumbled, hating the words as they bled into the air, seeming to stain the environment all around you.

FP could hardly believe it, he didn’t even know Julie had a sister...led alone the fact that you were that sister. If he had known, maybe he would have crashed one of her parties before tonight.

“Cool, are you gonna hang around? I don’t really care for anyone around here” he asked, making your stomach flip. If you hadn’t known any better, you would have thought that FP was flirting with you.

...but that wasn’t possible.

Guys like FP didn’t go for girls like you, it just didn’t happen. Guys like FP dated girls like Julie with size 2 waists and a collection of pumps. You couldn’t even remember the last time you wore something other than jeans and sneakers.

Usually, you didn’t have a problem with it but every once and awhile, moments like this came along and reminded you all about everything that was wrong with you.

...Everything you desperately wanted to change.

“I was actually gonna go watch a movie upstairs, I’m not much of a party goer” you shrugged, assuming that you’d just blew it, not that you really cared. As far as you were concerned, FP would be all over one of the seniors before midnight.

He didn’t actually want to spend any time with you. Who would with all the other exciting things he could be doing?

You could have sworn that you saw his face fall a little before he finally nodded.

“Well maybe I’ll come visit you if this gets too painful” he winked, leaving you to it. You let out a deep breath as he walked away toward the living room, your skin felt like it was on fire.

You couldn’t handle this.

Before you could have an actual stroke, you headed back upstairs, hoping to leave all memory of this whole thing behind you in favor of watching MTV until you went to bed.

Julie had a habit of not clearing out until the very last minute and it was likely that the party would go all night long. If you were lucky though, you wouldn’t have to go back downstairs until morning.

...Or at least that was what you were hoping.

Of course, nothing every worked out like that in real life so half way through watching a taping of the exorcist, there was a knock at your bedroom door.

At first, you assumed that it was just Julie, telling you she was going to leave with some guy she just met but if that was the case-she would have just yelled through the door.

This had to be someone else.

You groaned, rolling out of bed and pausing the tape, before making your way over to the door. You weren’t used to being interrupted when you were trying to chill but for all you knew, it could have been an accident.

There were a few different rooms on this floor and they could have just made a wrong turn at the stairs. You wouldn’t know unless you checked.

However, when you opened the door, it wasn’t  an accident at all. Standing there in the hallway, holding a couple sodas between his right arm and his chest, was FP.

You had no idea what he was doing here, but you couldn’t help the butterflies in your stomach at the sight of him. Even if he got lost and was looking for another room, it was nice to see him again.

As nervous as he made you.

“Hey, the bathroom is down the hall” you gestured, pointing in that way as if that was what he was here for. You had no idea what he was here for but you knew that it wasn’t looking for you.

There was no way he would come all the way up here to find you.

“I actually came to see you” he grinned, holding out a can of pop for you with that same charming smile on his face. You were shocked, mostly, when the words left his mouth but you knew better than to argue.

It may not have made sense to you, but for whatever reason, Fp Jones was standing at your bedroom door and you weren’t going to close it in his face.

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

two years too late, chapter f i f t e e n

Carly was seated cross-legged on your couch, a beer on the coffee table in front of her when you handed over her plate of lo-mein. She showed up with a smile, not the kind that seemed disingenuous or fake. She’d already texted along her order and said she was excited to see Alyssa, too, who was now cursing under her breath as she tried to balance her plate on her lap. 

“We need a bigger kitchen table,” she said, chopsticks held between her teeth as she gathered her hair on top of her head. “For when we have company.”

You took your seat between them both, a sigh escaping your lips when you sunk into the cushions. You had know idea how this would go, but you figured it was good practice for telling Whitney. 

“You can sit at the table if you’d like,” you reminded Alyssa--who made a face in your direction once she secured her hair into a bun. 

“And miss the spilling of the tea? No way.”

“It’s not tea,” you tried to dismiss her. 

“Oh don’t be so nonchalant. Just tell her,” she motioned in Carly’s direction, who’s eyes widened when you caught her with a mouthful of noodles. “She sees through you.”

She struggled to swallow but then laughed. “I do. Spill.”

Another sigh. You took a bite and let the silence simmer in the room. Your day at work had been long and busy, your feet hurt from walking the entire way home, but you’d hoped that the fresh air would clear your mind. It didn’t. 

“So--you know that Harry and I are friends.”

She nodded, pulled her knees up to her chest and took another bite of take away. 

“And that I’m writing this story about him for work.”

Another nod--now her eyebrows were furrowed as if she didn’t know where you were going with it. 

You paused--realizing that you also didn’t know where you were going with it. 

“They were doing it for a while,” Alyssa said it quickly, her eyes glued to you when your head swiveled quickly to see her. You pulled a face--Carly seemed to look at you with wide eyes. When you turned back to her, a wave of insecurity flooded through you. 

“What? Why are you making that face?”

“I just--I dunno--I suspected it but I’m still surprised.”

“Why?” Your voice was smaller, tinged with the low self-esteem that had always lingered. 

“Well, because he’s Harry Styles,” she said, her eyes getting wider when she spoke again. “I never thought I’d meet him let alone know someone who’s having sex with him.”

“Well it’s past tense,” you clarified. “Was having sex. Not any more.”

She let out a laugh, a sympathetic look crossed her face before she reached to take another pull from her beer. “Can you just give me actual details and explain what the hell has been going on?”

You let out a groan, letting your head fall back against the couch when you closed your eyes. “It was nothing at first--I mean, like I told you. We’d been friends, we lost touch, reconnected, the usual.”

“Yeah but at some point someone decided that intercourse would spice it up,” Alyssa let out a chuckle before she set her plate down. Carly laughed too, her eyes still on you to give her more information. 

“I guess I just always liked him,” you admitted, shoulders slumping when Alyssa dumped more food on her plate from the white box in front of you. “But I didn’t think anything would happen--I mean, I just thought he was being friendly when he invited us to that show.”

“So when did it change? When did it become more than friendly?” She laughed a little, surprisingly calm when you twirled your fork in the heap of noodles in your bowl. 

“Basically when we went home for Christmas.”

“So when I came over here and we watched basketball you were jumping in bed with him after?”

Alyssa stifled a laugh--mostly because she knew that was the first time he slept over.

“No,” you rolled your eyes. “We--well, when we were home for Christmas and New Years he kissed me. And then we came back and things were obviously, you know, different.”

“So I’ll take it the fight wasn’t about wine--which, it’s not like I ever really believed that.”

You pursed your lips, guilt settling on your cheeks in a flushed red. “The reason we aren’t hanging out any more is because he was seeing someone else.”

“What?! Who?!”

Your stomach dropped at the look on her face--one of excitement, not concern for a friend. You wondered, for a second, if it was your place to divulge who Harry had been cozying up next to in restaurant booths before it was you. 

“Some model,” you said, Alyssa let her beer bottle connect with her mouth before she offered a small smile in support of your vagueness. 

“Fuck him, honestly. You two are a match made in heaven and he fucked it up.”

Carly blew right past her support, still trying to gather information. “Was it that Nina girl? From that last Coach campaign with the scarves?”

“Well, I don’t know about the campaign,” you said. “But yeah--they were seeing each other for a bit.”

“I knew it,” she said, her eyes flickering up to the ceiling in thought. “I wrote an article about the time they got dinner but then I never saw anything more. That was like, right before the holidays.”

Her words brought a sense of relief to you. If anyone was going to be up to date on who Harry was dating, it was Carly. She reached for a napkin on the table and wiped at her mouth. “So what’s the plan with Whitney, then?”

“My story’s due Friday,” you told her, an air of defeat in your voice. “I don’t really know what to write about, I mean, other than the truth.”

Her eyes went wide. “Like--the real truth?”

“At least the I’ve known him forever truth. Not the sex truth. And if I get fired, then, I dunno. I guess I’ll figure it out. But--I can’t, I can’t keep lying to everyone.”

She nodded, ran a hand through her hair and let out a sigh. She seemed to let it sink in, much calmer than the time she found out you knew him at all. Less angry than the other day in the office. The glow of the telly filled your apartment and when she left that night, she smiled. Let me know if you need me to proof anything. 

**

You didn’t know what you were getting yourself into. He’d told you to wear a dress--a nice one--and he said you’d certainly get free dinner and drinks. As if that would convince you to come. 

As if it had to be a real reason, at this point. Like the rules had been set and somehow, you were breaking them. But what you didn’t tell anyone--not even Alyssa--is that he could have asked you to come over and watch him fold laundry, and you would have gone.

You begged Roger to blast the aircon in the ride over even though the city offered a brisk wind, the nerves and the uncertainty getting the best of you in the back leather seats. This time you wore your own dress, one that was black and down to your ankles, a slit showed off your upper thigh in a way that Alyssa promised was enticing but not slutty. 

A text from Pat on the way there made your breath hitch in your throat--fingers hovered over the screen when the notification popped up. 

Pat Martin (6:47pm): Dinner one night next week?

You ignored it for now. When the lift deposited you into Harry’s flat, his eyes trailed you up and down. 

“Alright, don’t look at me like that,” you said, failing to add the thought that followed. If I know that you still feel that way, we’re hopeless.

“Sorry,” he stepped aside, the door shut behind you and you shoved your hands into your coat pockets. “You, uh, you look beautiful.”

He turned to find his wallet, let it sink into the pocket of his trousers when he turned around to face you again, a smirk still plastered on his lips. Roger had practically sent you up to fetch him, a laugh from the front seat, he’ll hurry up for you! Always drags his feet when I need him. 

“Why do you need me to come to this, again?”

The doors to the lift opened once more when Harry summoned it, you climbed inside and he cleared his throat. “Just, uh, kind of a big deal--the dinner, I mean.”

“Why?”

“Just is, Smalls, okay?”

“Okay,” you said quickly, not wanting to overstep a boundary that was likely needed. If anything, you figured you and Harry needed more boundaries, more clarity around what you could and couldn’t do. 

So you kept enough space between you in the backseat of the car, eyes tracing the water droplets that raced down the window. You kept enough distance when you trailed behind him into an event space somewhere in Hell’s Kitchen, stilettos already digging into your feet.

He’d kept the conversation light in the car--let you know that he had fun with everyone and was excited to have the gang back together soon. He said he was excited for the tour, hesitation in his voice when you asked how long it was. 

_All summer, _he said. I’ll be back in early October. 

You pretended like it wasn’t weird to be by his side, a glass of red wine in your hand when someone from his management team greeted you by the wrong name. 

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, an apology under his breath when he pulled you away. “He’s a dick--that’s not, I don’t know who Emmy is.”

You hoped he wasn’t lying. 

So you left him alone for the most part, texting Alyssa from the bar with periodic updates. No he wasn’t flirting with you, yes you were sure. You’d put the pieces together and figured out that this was some sort of going away party that the label was throwing before Harry left for tour and pushed the thoughts of why does he want me here out of your head. 

After a check of social media to ensure that all was still quiet, he stumbled back towards you, introducing you to someone you’d already met earlier in the night. His arm snaked around your waist and he bragged to the label exec that you were one of his best friends. Isn’t she beautiful?

His manager eventually wandered over, hoping to persuade the champagne-fueled boy around your waist to head home. “M’fine,” Harry laughed. “I can reel it in--I think,” he laughed when he went to lean on a table, barely catching his footing before almost toppled over. You held onto his elbow, offering Jeff a nervous smile when Harry leaned his head on your shoulder. 

“M’tired anyway, Harry,” you bargained, hand automatically rubbing his back. “We can head home and just call it a night, yeah?”

He sighed, a bit of a groan when he looked between the two of you. “Fine, we can go home. But I have to have a wee first.”

He disappeared towards the bathroom, weaving through people and servers as he managed to miraculously keep his balance. The lights from Jersey City flickered outside, Jeff let out a sigh before he let his eyes find yours again. 

“Everything good?”

You shrugged, unsure of how to respond. You didn’t know him well enough to give him all the details, nor did you know if it was your place. “Good enough,” was the response you settled on. 

So when you fell into the backseat with Harry in tow, his laughter drowned out the radio that Roger had on. “M’sorry that was so stupid. I kept trying to find you so I could make you endure the boring conversations I was stuck in.”

You turned towards him on the smooth leather, barely able to see him in the dark. “You hated it? You seemed like you had a blast.”

“S’the alcohol,” he smirked, his eyes crinkled by the sides. “Knew I’d need a few to tolerate the suits and ties.”

You let out a scoff, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach that threatened to take flight. Something about him made you feel like you were both seventeen again, sneaking away from some party in Adam’s basement to watch the stars on the roof outside your bedroom. 

He reached over and let his hand rest on your thigh, the pads of fingers sent a jolt up your spine when his skin met yours beneath your dress. “I missed you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Haven’t seen you in a bit,” he shrugged, still maintaining a casual tone despite the liquor in his system. 

You let the words hang between you, pretending as if Roger wasn’t listening between the breaks in songs that leaked out of the speakers. 

You swallowed, tugging desperately in the other direction. “I think we, y’know, needed some space.”

He sighed, a dramatic one. One that pulled a giggle from your lips as he slumped in the seat. “I didn’t need space. I was fine.”

“Harry,” you said his name in warning, as if the butterflies had been freed from their cage and any second they’d swarm the backseat and find their way into the night air. 

His fingers still rested on your skin, but when you made eye contact he squeezed a bit tighter, pulling you towards him. The satin of your dress slid along the leather, your shoulder knocked into his before he let his lips press a kiss against it. 

You stayed like that for a while, hands intertwined atop your thigh, buildings passed by the windows as Roger brought you back to Harry’s, not yours. 

Come inside, he smiled, the car slowed to a stop and he was out before you could sit up straight. His palm was outstretched, waiting for you to climb out into the February air. 

“Only so I can make sure you make it to the toilet and not puke all over your flat.”

He rolled his eyes theatrically, dimples appearing on either side of his mouth before he turned to head for the doors. He drunkenly laughed about the night, the worst part was, I’m so glad you put up with, but suddenly, the quiet of his flat on the top floor seemed to blanket the evening. 

He slid his watch off his wrist and onto the console table near the couch. You reached for water bottles in the fridge and then found him staring at the ceiling in his bedroom. Two knocks on the door frame. 

“Got you water,” the words were quiet, nervous. 

He didn’t move. His eyes were closed and he let out a breath, the only sign that he wasn’t unconscious. “M’fine.”

“I bet you’ll beg to differ in the morning.”

He laughed at that, a quick rush of air through his nose--he was soon upright on the bed, palm outstretched to receive the hydration. You handed it over. 

He made a face, a scrunched nose and narrowed eyes. He was on his knees in front of the toilet in a matter of seconds. You stood frozen at the foot of the bed at first, still unsure of where the fine line was between friendship and romance.

But when he called your name--tired and almost weak--you found that the line didn’t really matter. 

“You’re alright,” you said, reassuring. “Do you need to get sick again?”

“No,” he shook his head, reaching for a tissue to wipe his mouth on. He pushed himself up and off the floor, you handed over his toothbrush, ignoring the fact that the purple one you’d bought from a Daune Reade down the block was still there. Untouched, almost a permanent fixture. 

He brushed, sneaking glances at you through the mirror every few seconds. Once he spit and put the toothbrush back in its place beside yours, you followed him back into the bedroom. He tugged open a drawer, grabbing for a pair of sweatpants and almost toppling over. 

You stood awkwardly in the center of the room when he changed, a quirked eyebrow in your direction once he pulled back the sheets. “You’re sleeping in that?”

“No--Harry, I’m not, I can’t stay.”

He was in bed now, his eyes focused on the blanket that he was trying to spread over the duvet, an extra layer of warmth. He brought his gaze up to you. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not sleeping here.”

“Oh,” his face fell but he leaned back against his pillow, his eyes trailing over to the empty spot beside him. “Yeah, okay.”

You promised yourself it was the alcohol--his judgment was impaired and his thinking was impaired and maybe his feelings were too. 

“Smalls?” 

You moved closer to him, stifling a laugh when he closed his eyes and let out another dramatic sigh. 

You hummed in response, sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“You know what sucks?”

“What?”

“That it’s all my fault.”

“What’s all your fault?”

“If I just realized all of this sooner maybe it would have worked.”

“You’re losing me…”

He opened his eyes, pupils dilated from the booze. “I’ve been in love with you since we were kids but I was too daft to figure my shit out. So now it’s too late.”

You didn’t know what to say, you blinked a few times, thankful for the drowsiness in his eyes. “I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, turning over and pulling the blankets up to his face. “Later.”

So you shut off the lights and closed the door, locked up his flat and rode the lift down. You walked home alone and promised yourself that it was just the alcohol. 

You thumbed out a message to Pat when you were home, safe in the darkness of your own living room. 

Y/N L/N (1:03am): I’m actually really busy for the next few weeks, sorry!

You pulled open the document on your computer that you’d been avoiding and stared at the fourteen headlines you’d brainstormed. You counted the words of the few paragraphs you’d written, and eventually, your fingers met the keyboard.

So maybe things with Harry would never be stable. But when you remembered the feeling of his hand on your thigh or his lips on your shoulder, you realized one thing: Maybe you’d never know where the line is or was or should be. Maybe for some people the line is always thin and blurry. Maybe trying to find the line is better than never even getting close to it at all.

**

Half of the office lights were out--that’s how late it was. The noise of a vacuum drifted through cubes, maintenance workers offered sheepish smiles when you made your way to Whitney’s office. She was still there, you had no idea why, but a late Friday night deadline felt appropriate for the churning in your stomach. 

“Hi,” you knocked on the doorframe, she smiled when she looked up from her computer. “Have a minute?”

“Yeah,” she smiled, pushing her laptop away from her a bit. “Come sit.”

“I--uh--I have this,” you handed over a manila folder, thin, with only four pages of paper inside. They weren’t stapled together, separate’s always better, she’d once told you._ That way I can lay it out in front of me when I edit._

You’d written small letters on a post-it, stuck it to the first page inside. Harry Styles Interview. 

She smiled up at you when she pulled it off, eyes scanning the proposed subheadline before the happiness left her face. It was replaced with a furrowed brow, her lips pressed together in a thin line as you watched her eyes move left to right, left to right. 

Her mouth parted, speechless--you guessed she was somewhere near the second or third paragraph. She didn’t put it down or rip it up, which felt like a good sign. Your heartbeat thumped in your ears with each page turn, her fingers peeling the story apart. Her eyes trailed up to you once, quickly back down to your words when she realized you were watching her every move.

You counted the seconds it took her to read it. Stolen glances at the clock on her wall until she set it down on her desk and let her gaze float up to the ceiling. First, she exhaled. “I’m not really sure what to say.”

“I know,” you said quickly. “I should have told you and I should have just come clean from the start. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, slow and hesitant. “How could you--why didn’t you just tell me when I pitched it to you?”

You shifted in your chair. “I dunno, Whitney, I guess I just didn’t want to fuck up my first chance to really prove my writing to you.”

She let out a noise of exasperation. “You don’t have to prove your writing--I already hired you!”

“I just wanted to write something real and fun and--not that the lists aren’t fun, I mean, they are--I just wanted to do an amazing job with it but then,” you paused to inhale. 

“But then what?” She looked at you like she didn’t have the slightest idea what was about to come out of your mouth, like you were speaking a different language and she was still trying to put a thousand pieces together. 

“But then I realized I didn’t know how to write about him without just writing about him. For awhile I thought I’d just lie my way through the whole thing and never tell you, but, writing the best story meant telling the truth,” you pointed at the pages on her desk. “That’s the story he deserves.”

She sighed, picking up the first page to peer down at your words once more. She set it down on the desk with uncertainty. “So did you actually go to Los Angeles with him?”

“Yes--everything in there is true.”

“And you’ve known him for how long?”

“Since we were, like, eight or nine.”

“Jesus,” she sighed. 

“And uh, in an effort to be completely honest with you--which feels kind of pointless, now--he and I were also kind of together when I did the interview.” The word crept out of your mouth slowly, awkward pauses laced through your words.

“Together?”

You nodded. 

“Like, romantically?”

Another nod. 

“Alright, well--yeah, I, uh, I need to think about all of this, I guess.”

“Okay, yeah.” You stood from your chair and turned on your heel, wondering how much of your conversation had been heard by the janitorial staff outside her door. Embarrassment flooded your veins, would she tell everyone in the office that you were a liar? Would your name be ruined in the field?

“S’good.”

“What?” 

“It’s really good,” she said, her eyes still glued to the papers on her desk when you turned to face her. “The story.”

You were quiet, unsure of what to say and hesitant to speak at all. She looked up at you and shrugged. “Not that is undoes the dishonesty and lack of professionalism, but, it’s probably one of the best features we’ve ever had.”

You mumbled a quiet thank you, brushed hair behind your ear before she told you she’d get back to you. You wished you could have asked: with what? A notice of termination? 

Instead you nodded and went back to your desk, grabbing your coat and heading for the door before you could ruin anything else. 

**

You got a text from Bryn late on Sunday. Clouds hung low over the city, you only left your apartment for a cup of tea in the afternoon. Saturday had been quiet. Cleaning, reading, a nap--living in a blissful state of denial, as if the city outside of your windows would cease to exist if you stepped outside. 

But now an impending phone call from Whitney felt inevitable. Like a boulder ready to fall from it’s mountainside nest, threatening the peace and quiet you’d somehow created in your tiny apartment. 

It was a group message, just you and Bryn and Jessie. 

Bryn (7:18pm): This just came across facebook.

Bryn (7:19pm): https://bit.ly/36thuW2

Jessie Alby (7:21pm): Literally just saw it...BRILLIANT! How did your boss take it? 

You didn’t believe either of them until you opened the link that Bryn had sent. The Scoop’s website came up on your screen, the headline you’d written appeared in thick, bold, lettering--exactly how you’d written it. 

Your name, a timestamp, and a tiny picture of Harry appeared beside it.

Another message came through on your phone, something from Carly. Then another, Jake. Another, your sister. Another, Adam. You read the interview twice--eyes glazed over as you sat with the feeling that things were now done. 

You only wished that Whitney had given you a decent warning. A swipe over to twitter, damage control. Messages with love and anger and accusations seemed to litter the screen, but one in particular caught your eye. 

You typed back to Jessie and Bryn. 

Y/N L/N (8:23pm): She didn’t even tell me she was posting it! She said she had to think things over!

You pulled the story back up, navigated to the “staff writers” page to see if your name was still listed. Below your picture and right next to Gabrielle’s, your name and title appeared in tiny font. 

You sat frozen for a second, thumbs hovering over the screen of your phone while you contemplated the options. Call Whitney? Ask her why she posted it? Call Harry? Ask him what he thought about it? 

Neither felt like great options--like either way you were getting yourself into a conversation that you didn’t want to have. When your phone buzzed and showed you Jake’s name at the top, you answered it quickly. 

“Hi,” you said, letting the view of him come into focus on the screen. He was somewhere in his flat, the lights mostly off. 

“Just saw the story,” he said. “S’really good, Y/N.”

“My boss didn’t even tell me she was publishing it.”

He pulled his head back, eyes furrowed. “What did she say when you talked to her?”

“Just that she needed time to think, really. She said that she wished I’d just been honest, but obviously I’m a proper knob so I lied and got myself into a fucking shit storm.”

“Well--she can’t be that mad if she published it.”

“Hopefully you’re right,” you sighed. “But either way it’s fine. Now it’s all said and done and I can just move on from the drama and the story and, I don’t know, stay in my own lane.” You looked up at him on the screen. He offered a sympathetic smile and then laughed. 

“Oh, Smalls, you’re something else.”

You looked at him, unimpressed. “What? Why am I something else?”

“Just are,” he said. “Harry told me you two hung out the other night.”

“We didn’t hang out,” you told him. “I went with him to some event and he got really bloody drunk. Made sure he didn’t die is what I did.”

“He might have been off his face but he remembers asking you to stay the night.”

You made a face. “Does he remember saying that it’s all his fault?”

“Yeah.”

You didn’t expect that. You were both quiet for a moment. 

“Sometimes I wish he didn’t even reach out in December, you know? I know we all missed him and what not but--I dunno, it’s been a mess since then. And the whole Nina Winters thing didn’t help.”

“Smalls,” he let out a laugh and rubbed at his face. “I have something to confess.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Jake, what it is?”

He laughed again, tried to straighten his face when you narrowed your eyes at him. “I knew that he was seeing Nina, but just hear me out!”

Your heart nearly stopped, but the smile on his face told you this had to be good.

“He mentioned it in passing, like, when they met in the fall. It really didn’t sound like anything serious. And eventually, after a few dates with her, he said something about it was off. This was before he talked to you--to be clear.”

“He said something was off?”

“He said he wanted whoever he dated to feel like his best friend.”

You were quiet for a second, still staring at him as if you were waiting for him to say more. “Then he said he missed you.”

And just like that, Jake handed over the last puzzle piece you’d been missing. The one thing that seemed to throw the whole picture off, make sure that nothing could really align. 

“So that’s why he reached out to me?”

He nodded.

“So let me make sure I understand you.”

Another nod. 

“You knew he was dating Nina Winters because he told you. Because you’d all maintained some level of contact with him for the last two years but you didn’t tell me because I was too embarrassed to even talk to him.”

“Yes.”

“So he reached out to me because he missed me? And dating Nina for a second made him realize that?”

“I think dating Nina made him realize that no one would ever be you.”

Another pause. You thought back to the night when he first met Carly. 

“I, uh, spoke with our friend Jake--I knew Y/N was here but he reminded me, and I hadn’t seen her in a while, so, figured I’d call.”

You tilted your head to the side, he made brief eye contact with you before looking over to Carly. “You spoke with Jake?” It wasn’t a shock, especially seeing as that cover had already been blown.

“Yeah,” he shrugged, a sip of the beer in his hand. “Caught up with him and mentioned the gang. Figured it’d be nice to see you.”

Jake could tell that you were deep in thought, he watched you through the phone and eventually, he let out a sigh. “He’s always loved you, Smalls--I think it just took him longer to realize it.”

**

You had no clue what to expect Monday morning when you set your bag down at your desk. Your cubicle hadn’t been touched--no one had come to clear out your belongings or light your things on fire, which seemed slightly promising.

You kept your head down and eyes focused on your computer, hoping to come up with enough good topics to write about so you wouldn’t have to leave your desk all day. If you were lucky, everyone would just forget about the story altogether and you’d be able to slip back into a state of mild internet fame due to your own self-deprecation. 

As it should be. 

“Hi, can we chat?” Whitney knocked twice on the wall to your cube, a small smile on her face when you looked up. 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Of course.”

She led you through the maze of cubes and back to her office, this time you had to deal with sheepish smiles from coworkers who’d read your story, not janitorial staff who’d heard your lies. 

She shut the door once you were both inside her office, though the glass wall didn’t provide much privacy. 

“So, we published it, obviously, as you know.”

“Mhm.”

“And it’s really good, Y/N. Honestly, it’s a great piece and it’s trafficking better than any other feature we’ve ever done--but, I unfortunately can’t keep you on staff after that.”

You looked at her, both of you stood in the middle of her office as if the chairs would provide a level of nonchalance that neither of you could handle. 

You didn’t respond. You stared at the eggshell white walls and then down at the gray carpet. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N--it’s not that I don’t think you’re a fantastic writer and an amazing person, but--I just don’t think it sets a good precedence, you know? We’re supposed to have a zero tolerance policy when it comes to dual relationships and--”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I get that. I, uh, I’m sorry, that I fucked it all up.”

She frowned, a deflated breath left her lungs and she crossed her arms. “I just wish you’d been honest--we could have figured something out.”

“Ever since he got famous, people seemed more interested in me just because I knew him--so when I came here and started working, I just wanted to prove myself without his name attached.”

She nodded. “You did prove yourself--and if you’d told me that you knew him, I dunno. Honesty is always the best option.”

A nod. “I don’t blame you for firing me. I deserve it.”

“In a perfect world, I wouldn’t. But,” she paused. “I have good news--I convinced my boss to let me publish your piece with limited rights--as if you were a freelancer. You own the full story and even though it was produced and published during your contracted time here, you can bring that story with you or have it removed from our site whenever you’d like.”

A tiny weight off your shoulders. You wondered what Harry was doing. A meeting, maybe. Grabbing breakfast with Jeffrey. He wasn’t getting fired--you knew that. 

“Thank you, that’s helpful.”

“And I’d be happy to write you a letter of recommendation. I’ll just, you know, leave out this stuff.”

She laughed, one that caught on the stale office air and found it’s way to you. A small smile on her face when she opened her arms towards you. “I’m sorry I have to do this--but something tells me you’ll have plenty of offers.”

That wasn’t even where your brain was at. Instead, it was high above the streets of New York, wondering how the last few months had accidentally turned into the most adventurous ones yet, how figuring everything out also turned it all upside down.

“And also,” she pulled you back to reality. “I hope things work out between you two.”

“What?”

She laughed, waved a hand as if her words weren’t as serious as they seemed. “Sounds like there’s a bit of history there. Not quite finished, either, right?”

You stared at her--shocked at how her words allowed another piece to fall into place. Collected through your own writing, Whitney’s insight into the situation felt telling and true. And here, in her office, there were no more lies. No more secrets, no more dodging the truth. It was the first time in a long time that you let out a breath and actually felt relieved. 

You nodded, repeated her words. “Not quite finished yet.”

She had papers for you to sign, there was a meeting with someone from HR and by lunch time you’d packed up your desk. The tiny trinkets and your phone cord were tucked away in a box you’d grabbed out of a recycling bin. 

“Don’t forget this,” Carly plucked a photo from the gray fabric, unfolding it to reveal Harry’s face on the other side of Bryn. She laughed, rolling her eyes when she saw who it was. “All that time he was sitting right here.”

You took it from her, a small laugh. “You can keep that,” you teased. “Cut out the rest of us and just stare at him while you write.”

“You know,” she leaned against the desk, watching as you did a final look around for any other forgotten belongings. “Something tells me that I won’t be writing about him so much.”

“He’s got a tour coming up, I’m sure there will be plenty of content.”

“Yeah--I don’t think anything about him will traffick like yours is right now, so.”

You set the box down, pulling her into a hug quickly. “Thanks for not getting me in trouble.”

“Are you kidding?” She pulled away from you and laughed. “If you let me do that interview I’d probably be dead or in jail or--I don’t know. I think it worked out for the best.”

“Minus me getting fired,” you reminded, a smirk in her direction. 

“Right. Minus that.”

You picked up the box again and headed for the lift, she followed suit. “But you’ll be okay--I mean, Gabby said she’d be shocked if you don’t have something by the end of the week. E! News picked up the story, Cosmo tweeted about it, so did Paper Mag and Buzzfeed.”

“Yeah,” you said, a confident nod despite the uncertainty in your veins. “I’ll be alright. I might go home for a bit--take a break. But, it’ll be alright.”

“Let’s do dinner,” she smiled. The doors opened and you stepped inside, pressing the button for the lobby.

“Thursday?”

She smiled. “I’ll bring the wine!”

**

You weren’t dressed for company. Alyssa was on the phone with Owen and you were stretched north, arms reaching for the last packet of crisps in the cabinet above the stove when there was a knock at the door. 

Jesus Christ, you hadn’t the slightest clue who’d be there. Not Owen, simple deductive reasoning. Not Carly--your plans weren’t for another few nights. A neighbor locked out or someone who’d accidentally gotten your electric bill.

You pressed your cheek up to the painted wood, eye gazing through the peephole to see Harry--a baggy coat and a hat pulled over his head. 

You twisted the lock and pulled the door open. “Hi,” you said, eyes flickered down to his hands. Printed paper. The headline in bold lettering. An immediate raise in blood pressure.

“Hi,” he said.

He stepped inside, you shut the door, awkward silence. The clock ticked on the wall and the telly was on mute--a blanket was strewn on the couch where you’d once been before you had a hankering for something salty. 

“I, uh, I really like the story.”

“Thanks,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “Sorry I didn’t, like, tell you it was out. They didn’t tell me they were publishing it. I think you knew before I did.”

“Oh,” he said, brows knit towards the center of his face. “How’d it go? Talking with Whitney, I mean.”

You sighed, moved back to the couch and sat on top of a throw pillow. “Fine enough, she was kind of understanding, but, she fired me.”

“She fired you?” He said it like the possibility had never crossed his mind, still frozen in the center of the room. 

You nodded quietly, watched as he shrugged out of his jacket. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. That’s really--s’unfair, honestly. It’s a great feature.”

“S’fine, Harry, don’t worry about it. I’ll figure it out.”

He bit at his lower lip, hung his jacket by the door before he came over to the couch. “I don’t think anyone’s ever written such nice things about me.” A smirk tugged at his lips, a shade of pink was on his cheeks from the cold wind outside. 

You dodged a laugh. “Well--it got me fired, so, don’t get used to it.”

He was quiet for a second, the sounds of New York seeped through the window. He shifted on the couch but brought his eyes back to you. “Smalls, I--”

The door from Alyssa’s bedroom opened, her head poked out and she smiled at Harry, immediately giving herself away. She’d been hoping you’d talk things through, her words a constant reminder of her own hopes. Just give it a chance, he’s clearly in love with you. “Long time no see!” She tugged at the ratty t-shirt she wore, oversized and faded from the wash. 

“S’been, like, a week!” You argued, rolling your eyes at the smirk on her face. Harry looked all too pleased, laughed when you looked at Alyssa once more. “Can we help you?”

“No, no! Just heard a deeper voice--got a little curious. I’ll be in here,” she held up her hands to show her innocence, shut the door behind her, leaving you alone again. 

You rubbed at your eyes, exhausted from the last few months. When you looked back up at Harry, he watched you for a second.

“What?”

He shrugged. “I just came over to say I’m sorry for everything.”

Silence. 

“I’m sorry that I was a shit friend and I’m sorry that I pushed you to tell people when you weren’t ready and I’m sorry that now you lost your job.”

“It’s not your fault,” you replied. “I’m the one who lied. I’m sorry that I was so--difficult.”

“Yeah, but--I’m the one who turned your life upside down.”

A quiet laugh. “I can’t argue with that.”

He sat there for a second, not saying anything. He tugged at his lower lip and stole a glance in your direction. After another few seconds, he stood. “Well--I’ll leave you to it, just wanted to see how you were doing, make sure you were okay.”

You stood, mirroring his position in the room like you had only moments earlier. He stepped towards the door. “I head out on the road on Wednesday.”

“Yeah?”

A knot in your stomach.

“Yeah.”

He watched you, waiting for you to say something. He scanned your face, a desperate look in his eyes for you to finally cross the line, like he was begging you to come to the other side and stop looking back. 

“Maybe--uh, maybe I can come visit. Seeing as my schedule just opened up.”

He was hesitant, the corner of his mouth twitched towards the ceiling, he somehow knew exactly what you meant. A nod. “Yeah, Smalls, I’d like that.” He stepped forward, then again, and then his hand was on your waist. A spark up your spine like so many times before, like all the times before.

You’re sixteen suddenly, a betraying pulse that you’re worried he can feel when he brushes hair out of your face. Heat in your cheeks like you might get caught by someone’s parents, butterflies desperately trying to break free from your rib cage in the backseat of someone’s car as you drive through town, half drunk and laughing. 

Eighteen now, kissing someone else but wishing it was him. Skipping classes in uni and drinking at dingy pubs, all the while wondering what time zone he’s in and when he might call. 

Twenty, convinced he was just a blip on the radar, nothing more than a teenage fantasy. Telling yourself nothing will ever happen just in hopes of moving on. 

The busy streets of New York are swapped with the quiet ones back home, late nights wondering if he’ll text you back or if he even knows how you feel. And suddenly, back in time, you don’t mind the not knowing. You don’t mind the back and forth, the push and pull, the up and down. You don’t mind the embarrassing moments, the late night take out or relentless teasing from childhood mates. 

You’re twenty-four, a swell of emotion in your chest when he pulls away from the kiss. “I love you,” he says quietly, a crack in his voice. “Sorry it took me so long to say that.”

“Yeah, well,” you laughed, letting your hands reach down to intertwine with his. “Better late than never.”

**

Floral Suits and Screaming Fans: a 2017 solo album and an upcoming arena tour have made Harry Styles one of the most successful stars of the year, but he’s still the same kid I grew up with. 

Written by Y/N L/N, published March 3rd, 2018 - 3:55pm in Entertainment

There’s a pitcher of water in the center of the table, but it’s not sparkling. There are no beautiful women dressed in togas, offering grapes into his mouth as they fan him with giant leaves. Instead, he sits with his chin in his hand, a beanie pulled down over some escaping curls. He listens dutifully as his manager runs through upcoming tour dates that will take him from Amsterdam to Bangkok, San Fran to Sydney. 

So maybe my expectations were a little out of touch with reality. But forgive me--when my childhood friend left our sleepy town just south of Manchester in the UK, I imagined that the new life he led was lavish and luxe. 

I’m seated across from him at a conference table--somewhere in West Hollywood--pretending like I know what ‘in ears’ are or like I’m not wondering where the sparkling water is. I got offered the chance to interview the boy I grew up with, and in a lot of ways Harry Styles is still the same kid that sat next to me in Chemistry or ate Chinese takeout at my mum’s kitchen table. 

He still laughs really hard at his own jokes and he still has a love for sappy movies, but he’s certainly more worldly than he was back then.

He now knows about cultural customs in different parts of the world, he’s traveled to places I’ve only read about. He’s got awards that line a shelf in his beautiful Manhattan apartment, overlooking the streets below. People all around the world would kill to stare mindlessly at him in this meeting, but the truth is that he’s never been some fantastic and enchanting celebrity to me. Instead, he’s been a friend I’ve had for ages and someone who knows a plethora of embarrassing stories from Year 8 that I hope no one ever hears.

It wasn’t always like this though, if I’m being honest. We waved goodbye to our curly-headed friend like he was going off to war, and in a way, he never came home. There were years when I didn’t see him, save for a picture in a magazine or something on the internet. Maybe a happy birthday text between talk shows and concerts. So you can imagine my surprise when we reconnected on a snowy New York evening and everything felt--well, exactly the same.

He asked me to come see a show of his, I brought my roommate who had a tough time playing it cool and we got Pad Thai afterwards. We caught up and fell back into the same rhythm we’d always had. A few weeks later and my boss brought me into her office. The quest? Interview one of the biggest celebrities on the planet--one she didn’t know happened to be a longtime friend. 

Instead of immediately informing her of my close ties to my newest subject, I kept it a secret. I aimed to undertake a lofty goal: prove that the music and the looks and the charm aren’t what make Harry so special. 

So--how does someone as talented and well known as Harry stay so down to earth? It’s the people you’re around, he says. 

H: In the band, I was constantly around people who would bring me back down if I got a bit of an ego, you know? There was such love between everyone, but it was like a real family. If you’re being a dick, you’re going to hear about it from someone--they’re going to tell you to fuck off, probably.

Was that a good thing? 

H: Absolutely. I mean, it definitely sucked sometimes when someone called you on it, but at the end of the day it’s the only way to keep your sanity, I guess. The last thing you want is a bunch of ‘yes’ men telling you that every idea you have is a good one. I’ve had plenty of shit ideas. 

What have some of them been recently?

H: Probably just that I can go long periods of time without a break. It’s nice to still have my mum or someone say ‘you’re probably too busy.’ Having a lot of the same people around me over the years has been good for that. They know me well enough to know when I’m not being myself or when something’s up.

How do you think you’ve changed over the years?

H: I’ve definitely got a better sense of fashion, which is good! But I think there are a lot of ways I have and a lot of ways I haven’t. That’s probably a better question for you to answer. 

I’d say he’s right. Sure, he doesn’t live in the same house he did growing up and he definitely knows now that those purple trainers he had back in the day were a disaster. But he’s as chummy as he’s always been, offering hugs and handshakes to old classmates we haven’t seen in years when we both make the trip to Holmes Chapel for Christmas. 

He’s bounced in and out of our friend circle--sometimes too busy hanging out with Hollywood’s finest to have brunch--but he says he loves coming home more than ever.

H: Being away obviously makes me miss it more. I don’t know if it’s somewhere I could live now, but being there makes me feel like not much has changed. Which is good, I think, having a place to come back to and reset once in a while.

Going to Costa and seeing people you grew up with is normally a nightmare for most people our age. But you don’t mind?

H: No, I mean, it’s awkward sometimes, I guess, to see people you haven’t talked to in a long time, but it’s always nice to catch up. Even if that means me admitting that I’m sometimes shit at keeping in touch. I try to at least let people know I’m thinking about them and still care--even if I can’t see them all the time. And what’s nice is that most people from home still really treat me like a real person, you know? They ask how I’ve been and what I’m doing, not much different than if I were at Uni or working in London. 

They don’t ask about which celebrities are in your phone or if you can buy them a car?

H: They don’t! I think it’s just that people I surround myself with see me as more than the kid from the X-Factor or the kid from that band. 

They know you’ve got a terrible taste in desserts. 

H: That or they just see me as the loud mouth that sat behind them in school and got told to shut up a lot. 

Which is exactly how I remember it. He was always talking, singing, laughing, a true extrovert who loves to make other people smile. So I guess it’s not surprising that he’s doing what he’s doing. 

He says that being up on stage is a similar feeling to being the class clown, feeling really good about bringing a group of people together however he can do it. But he says it’s a lot different without friends by your side. 

H: It’s definitely been a shift. It’s just me up there now--I get to be more myself. Not that I wasn’t [myself] in the band, by any means, but more opportunity to just be myself. 

To dance around and act a fool in front of a whole room of people?

H: Exactly--but I feel lucky for that, really. I get to do this amazing thing and share music with people and create a space where people can just enjoy themselves. That feels really good. And the prancing is fun too--you obviously know me so well!

But do I? Is it possible to lose touch and then reconnect with an old friend for the interview chance of a lifetime, just picking up where you left off?

A day we spent together in Los Angeles seems to prove it is. 

This is a great beach, a great cafe! He sings at the top of his lungs as we drive down the Pacific Coast Highway, excited to share his world with me. I tag along to the meeting without sparkling water and we have dinner that night with his manager and a few friends. 

I’m shocked by the way his demeanor doesn’t shift. He’s just as goofy in a five star restaurant as he is in my living room or at the beach. The people we’re with don’t treat him like a celebrity, they treat him like a human. One that just happens to be extremely gifted when it comes to writing sad songs.

So I think that is what makes him so special. It’s not necessarily the good looks or the music or the charm (though he’d be proper upset if I didn’t admit he possesses them all). It’s the way he makes everyone feel so comfortable, the way he seems so down to earth despite the sold out shows or the platinum albums. 

And in the time I’ve spent with Harry over the last few weeks, I’ve seen the parts that are lavish and luxe. I’ve seen a fancy airplane and a bathtub so big you could probably put a small boat in it. 

I’ve gotten to see a part of the world I’d never been to, I’ve eaten delicious food and gotten to laugh about some terribly unfortunate haircuts that happened in Year 5. 

But getting a taste of the good life wasn’t the best part. The best part was eating take out in my shoebox apartment and getting acquainted to the world my friend now calls home. It was realizing that after all the success in the world, he’s humble, he’s grateful, and still remembers how I like my tea. It was the deep and often emotional conversations we had about growing up and growing apart, learning and changing, all for the best. And even though I’ve missed a few milestones, I can tell he’s settled into himself, nestled snugly between boy next door and bonafide rockstar.

So maybe Harry Styles has never been some fantastic and enchanting celebrity to me, because he’s fantastic and enchanting for a thousand other reasons.

come talk to me about tytl

AN: THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU to everyone who has read and cried and loved these two as much as I have. This has seriously been the most fun story to write because so many of you were so invested!!!! Chapter 1 of my new story, unplanned, will be posted soon! 

tag list:  @clorenafila​ @ainsleesolareclipse  @castawaycths​ @harryspirate​ @wanderlustiing​ @ursamajor603​ @thurhomish​ @omgsharry​  @stepping-into-the-light​ @rachkon​ @jdcharliewhiskey​  @shawnsblue​  @gendryia @g0bl1nqueen​  @laula843​  @flooome​  @a-woman-without-a-plan​@awomanindeniall​ @shaw-nm @staceystoleyourheart​ @ohprettylittlemind-deactivated2 @anssu-amry​ @my-fandomful-life2​ @stylesfantasy​ @bookingbee​  @mleestiles​  @haute-romance-quotidienne​  @craic-head-horan​ @talk-british-2-me-britbritharry​ @at-least-im-1​ @paigemck00​ @rawmeharry​ @pinkpolaroidgirl​ @blackxxmagicc​ @sksspotkitty @nearbyou​ @kalesouffle​ @sunnflowerchild​ @lmk12310 @sing-me-a-song-harry​ @afterstylesmadeit​ @myhat​ @caritocp​ @liquor-and-intellect​ @harryinsweatersandbandanas​ @daydreamsofh​

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Hell, You and Christmas (Favored Ones, Part 10.)

Series description: Many things were surely fucked up in the year 2038, but no-one ever told anyone how all of it went down. What happened before a group of people left for Seattle to handle personal matters? Why did one girl refuse to leave all of it be? And why there were so many dead in the end?

Part Summary: Killing a human really did a number on you... Joel, Ellie or Dina couldn't help you to get out of the cycle inside your head. Until you realized that it's Christmas already.

A/N: We're slowly getting into the fluffy parts before it all goes downhill.

Warnings: Uh... So... You know... We be smutty... Again... THEY BE HAVING A HOOK UP RELATIONSHIP, WHAT DID YOU EXPECT. JUST WAIT UNTIL WE'LL BE IN SEATTLE. YOU'LL BEG ME TO WRITE FOUR SMUTTY CHAPTERS IN A ROW.

Word count: 5.8 K

Tagging:  @nemodoren @xxgoldenhour @missdictatorme​ @peakymarvels​ @davnwillcome​ @pickleriiick​ @jodiereedus22​ @gladiosamicitias​ @tamkashi​ @eternallyvenus​ @avengerssstuff​ @fangirl-inthe-us​ @avery-miller​ @mikah-writes​

Series master list: H E R E

Joel Miller’s playlist for the bonfire occasions: H E R E

Youtube playlists: JACKSON DAYS | SEATTLE DAYS

The winter of 2037, 3 months before the incident:

Joel hadn't seen you for four weeks. Sure, you met him in the town, chit-chatted with him, and asked him about his wellbeing, but you hadn't visited him ever since the patrol you've had. The man was letting you take your time, there was not a single sign of pressure.

Yet truth be told, he missed having you around. There was something empty about his house in the night when he was going asleep all alone. It wasn't that he hadn't sex in weeks, that didn't bother him as much as feeling the bed being cold and empty again. Was it what you saw that made you cut everything with him? It was quite confusing the man since you hadn't any problem with greeting him and talking to him. So Joel was trying to spend as much time as possible with reading, carving animals out of wood. He was often seen going for a hunt, spending most of the time either alone or with Tommy and Maria.

But it was hard for you. It wasn't that Joel would make you feel less safe once you saw him just suffocating a guy with his damned forearm, the quite opposite actually. If anything, this damned man with a somehow gentle soul, was perfectly capable of protecting you from bad men. But there was this something that was coming up inside of you - what were you if you were capable of taking someone else's life? Joel told you that makes you a survivor and any of the people that know weren't acting any differently around you.

Slowly, all the leaves were gone - and once, when you were walking around the town with your palms inside your jacket, you noticed that something fell on your nose. First snow of the year. It was late November - so much time flew past since you had your patrol with Joel. Jesus, were you out for such a long time? Holy hell.

When you came home, you looked at your clock - realizing it was already the thirtieth of November. December was starting the next day, which meant that Christmas were coming soon... And you hadn't got even one gift. It wasn't about the gifts at all and you knew that, but you enjoyed giving your friends something that would make them happy. Ellie was quite easy to pleasure - you, as usual, gave her a bottle of beer and some donuts from Seth. Dina loved scarves, so in exchange for help in the workshop, you got one for her. Jesse was quite hard to estimate, so you prepared a few bombs for him.

You managed to trade one of your other bombs for a book Diego wanted. Just a day before Christmas, you got all the gifts you needed and for real, there was only one person who you wanted to give someone to. This time it wasn't that you didn't want to spend time with Joel - it was just a lot to think about. And honestly, you were now in the phase when slowly, everything got back to normal again.

So you decided to give him a small gift he'll have to unwrap himself in his bedroom after the traditional Christmas party people held in the big dining room. Usually, people were drinking, eating sweets, dancing, and singing some carols at the beginning. Then, everyone usually went to talk with a group of friends. So, naturally, you ended up at the local young folk's table with your best friends, dressed up in the cutest dress you could thing you had in your wardrobe, having two bottles of eggnog and a plate of Christmas sweets in the middle. As usual, the presents were thrown into a sack, and the person who got the gift in that row had to guess from who it was.

It was great so far - Jesse brought you a whole plastic bag of plastic bottles which he was collecting the whole yeah for you, Ellie gave you a pair of socks and Dina somehow managed to get a bottle of wine for you, which was special in the town. This gift was so amazing that you told them you'll open it together once you'll all gather again. The last gift was from Diego, who spent weeks trying to figure out how to tell you his feelings. And in the end, Tommy had advised him to give you a branch of mistletoe in a Christmas card. So he did exactly that.  

Just when you were about to open the card, some rumble coming from the front part of the room made each of you turn around. Ellie, who was drunk beyond socially acceptable, started to whistle loudly when she saw Joel, who wasn't exactly sober either, bringing a guitar to the stage where the musicians were playing until Seth turned on some stereo with Carols.

Everyone changed a look of surprise about Ellie's reaction before you all shifted your attention to what was happening around. Diego was feeling more and more pressured when he watched your hand putting the card down when you leaned your back into Ellie's chest, watching her old man on the stage.

"So, as usual, my younger brother still thinks it's appropriate to make me play songs against my will. And even this year, he talked me down to play somethin' for you because he still thinks y'all enjoyin' it." - Joel told the microphone with a shy smile on his face, looking into the crowd of mostly drunk adults. Dina out both her palms in front of her lips to yell... - "Bet your damn ass we love you playing guitar!" - Making your whole table giggle like a group of high school girls.

Joel lowered his head with the hint of defeat, he was still smiling though, in his face, shaking his head in the process. - "Might not be a carol, but it is for someone here." - Joel looked into the crowd with a grin. You wouldn't suspect he's thinking about you - you'd say he means Ellie - until your gazes met for a second. So he was giving you a Christmas present even though you've been distancing from him for quite some time now... Why was Joel sometimes the sweetest guy in Jackson just to be the jackass most of the time?

Ellie, clearly bored with the old man singing for her, scoffed inside your hair, bringing you even closer than before. Joel took his time with making sure the guitar is good to go before he plucked the first chords of the song. Both you and Ellie furrowed while watching him - he played this song for neither of you so far. So you've listened to the words, while surprised smiles appeared on both of your faces.

"'Cause I'd rot in Hell with you if you'd just ask me to. I love the shitty things we do together - live with me in this sin forever. Hell and you - I know you want it too. I say take the shot, see this chance, feel the fire, and let me have this... Dance with you." - He proceeded to the refrain, having both you and Ellie sitting there with opened mouths.

"I think this song ain't for you, girl!" - Dina yelled, sending a loud whistle to Joel. This man rarely sang something different than overplayed country songs or Johnny Cash - let alone something as sexual as this was. To support the old man, almost everyone around the table clapped in rhythm, giggling at the lyrics.

"I didn't know he's seeing someone." - Ellie said and drank one cup of the eggnog at once. Diego's card was long forgotten by the time Joel was leaving the stage, shaking hands with the musicians. There were now theories about who Joel could be seeing. The person was in the room with them.

"I think it's Bobby." - Jesse looked at all of you. - "She's around Joel's age and her butt ain't bad for someone as old as she is." - The boy finished with a grin, earning a chest smack from Dina, who was laughing like crazy.

"Well, obviously, it's Francis from the kitchen. Their personalities match totally." - Dina rolled her eyes. Uh, that wasn't true - while Joel was an adorable jackass with his good and bad moments, Francis was a straightway bitch. But Ellie was shaking her head at Dina's tip. - "He needs someone who can get through the bad days with him. Francis would've murdered him on the spot. In my opinion, it's Cat from the stables. She's lovely, they both adore horses and trust me, I've seen them talking the other day... Fuck me, she's all over him." - Ellie laughed, still keeping her hand on your knee.

This topic was making you sick if you had to be honest. Sure, they were joking about who Joel can be fucking while the person sat next to them. Or... Was it you? As they spoke of it, you weren't so sure if the song was even for you. You meant a lot to Joel, but he never had told you anything to even have you an idea that you could be this important to him. But no matter how nervous it was making you, you were still laughing along with your friends, drinking maybe a bit more of eggnog than you should.

That was Diego's chance to embarrass both of you. Your friends were total dicks when they were drinking, which you knew - but the boy had to do it nonetheless, hadn't he?

You turned your head to him, feeling a smooth touch on your shoulder, just to see Diego holding the card he gave you. Oh, you've forgotten about that. He laughed nervously and opened the piece of paper, showing you the mistletoe inside of it. Your eyes widened with horror when you realized where he's getting at with giving you such a gift.

"I mean... If you don't wanna listen to tradition, we can at least dance?" - Diego asked when he saw your terrified expression. Well, this sure wasn't what he was expecting as a reaction, yet this boy wasn't giving up so easily. Another of Johnny Cash's songs was just playing - you knew that because Joel loved to sang this man's songs - when he got up and offered you a hand.

It was awfully weird when you just sat there, looking at his palm. Ellie woke you up out of the trance by pushing you closer to the boy, giving you a sick grin. So, against your will, you put your hand in his and went to the dance floor with the boy. Even such bullshit was enough to have the black-haired boy grinning when he was circling his hands around your body.

Tommy was laughing out loud about a joke Seth has said, there were legitimate tears in Joel's brother's eyes. Joel chuckled at the joke as well, leaning one of his elbows into the bar behind them. With a smile, he took one good look around the room - just to feel the smile fade away rather quickly.

Chords of the True Faith were announcing the chorus coming just when the boy leaned in to kiss you. You sure was surprised, but you were too drunk to push him away, so the only thing that remained you was to kiss him back. When the kiss was over, you could see a huge smile on Diego's face, yet his excitement met a rather stoic face confusion you had on.

For the situation to fuck, even more, you noticed another man walking directly to you. All you could do was to close your eyes and cuss under your breath. Joel was seemingly pissed - why you had at least a clue about what had pissed him off, the others would've dismissed it as his normal jackass behavior.

"Sir." - Diego greeted him in the most polite behavior possible, unable to get the happy grin off of his. The man's eyes flickered on you, on the boy's arms wrapped around your waist proudly, and then to Diegos face in the end.

"Am I interruptin' somethin' here, son?" - Joel asked, knowing damn well he was interrupting something, which put a wicked grin on his lips, and little devilish sparks into his eyes. While Diego told him a quiet 'Yes', both of the men stared at you shaking your head with horror in your face. You didn't know how many times you'll have to drop clues for Diego, telling him you're not interested in him.

"I mean, you didn't come to talk about these damn bombs Tommy had mentioned. You have a minute?" - Joel asked you directly and Diego finally let you go from his gentle grip. To not end on the bad note completely, you at least patted his shoulder before waking off with Joel, coming to the bar to get at least a beer from Seth. - "Bombs? Really? You couldn't come up with something original?" - An angry hum left your lips.

"Diego? Really?" - Joel asked you back rather mockingly, making you finally look in his face. Damn you. It was hard to tell if it's the alcohol making you both more daring than ever before, but there was some kind of shift in his expression. Did he finally realize that he's not the only one interested in you?

"You were a good boy this year." - You mumbled with a victorious smile, waiting for the old sack ball to notice you. Your relationship with Seth was more or less without complications - you hated him just as much as he hated you. It wasn't that you'd be a bad kid or whatever, but you were friends with people Seth despited with passion. Ellie and he were arguing on almost every dance, especially when she got drunk. He was one of the people who liked the traditions - young people being polite while having a normal relationship as he put it. Which meant opposite genders being attracted to each other - which, resolved in many conflicts. Especially when both of them got drunk. There were even occasions when you hat to pull Ellie away from him because she'd kick him down to a fucking ball.

Joel's grin after your statement was hilarious - he felt confident and above the situation completely. Which made you grin as well. - "How comes?" - He asked and looked around the room, bringing his bottle closer to his lips.

"Santa left you a gift." - You smiled sweetly, moving a bit closer. There was still the socially acceptable distance between you two, yet no-one could hear what you were talking about. - "The only problem with is that... You have to take the wrapping off of me before seeing it." - Oh, the reaction of the old man was priceless. He rose his eyebrows, his mood suddenly being so much that he was almost beaming though the whole room with happiness. Or something similar to it at least.

"What are you two whispering about, huh?" - The old's ballsack voice freaked you out. If he'd be there just a moment earlier, he'd hear you telling Joel Miller, the Joel Miller, to undress you. Which would've been enough to cause a scandal? With that, you gave him the sweetest smile you were capable of. - "Nothing your long nose would have to sniff about, Seth." - And that was the fakest smile in the entire history of Jackson what you gave to Seth.

"These kids." - Seth rolled his eyes in Joel's direction, leaving to get your beer. Joel just chuckled at his sigh, agreeing with the man.

"What about meetin' me in ten at the restrooms?" - Joel grunted to you, taking another swing of his beer. This took you by surprise. Sure, seeing Joel was enough of a crazy situation on its own, but you've never done anything as crazy with anyone. You had a surprised expression, for sure, but any red flags have risen as far as Joel could tell. There was also a heavy hint of excitement in your eyes, which made his wicked grin widen even more.

"But the entire concept of it's just ridiculous. It'll blow up right in your face, I tell you that, kiddo." - Joel shifted his tone entirely all of a sudden. You wouldn't even notice Ellie approaching you if he wouldn't send you a warning.

"Heard you're keeping her hostage here." - Ellie got out of her lips and straightened to look even scarier. Oh, your poor baby. She'd do anything to keep you from getting harmed. Especially on Christmas night like that one. - "So I came here to save her." - She looked right to Joel's face with an ice-cold look. You decided to play along, scoffing at the last remark. Just when Seth gave you your beer, you took at and entwined your elbow with Ellie's.

"You don't know shit about my work, so stop inserting yourself in, yeah?" - You told Joel, turning your face to him. Quicky, you mouthed 'ten' before you let Ellie drag you along. The man hid another smirk to the beer, wondering about how impossible you could be.

"Was he laying into you a lot?" - The girls asked you on your way to the table. You shook your head with a furrow, thinking about what was happening at the bar. You were overenjoyed and very excited, looking at the clock to count down each minute. You figured out that it will be the best to pretend you want to puke - it'll give you some time and no-one will come to check on you since you puked on dances all the time.

"No, he was quite okay. It just gets repetitive." - You answered with a small smile, rolling your eyes.

"Just don't let him ruin your night, girl." - She pulled you even closer, giving you a small smile. Diego was looking like a lovesick puppy when you appeared out of the crowd. He smiled almost immediately, leaning towards you. How was just not giving up, was he? Jesus Christ. What should you tell him? Nervously, you just smiled back and nodded at the boy, but you sat far away from the boy as possible at the table.

"So, was he acting weird? Maybe looking at someone? A lot? Was he searching for his girl? You noticed something?" - Dina leaned close to you, looking you in the eyes. Well, what should you say? The only person he had his eyes on was you. The whole time. It didn't seem that he was singing for someone else, but you still couldn't be quite sure. For a moment, you pretended to think about that before you shook your head.

"Why are you so curious about that, Dina? I am your man." - The black-haired boy sitting next to one of your best friends chuckled. Dina spared Jesse a furrow before giggling and taking a sip of the eggnog.

"Because it's Joel damned Miller. He lives here for the last five years and I have never seen him talking to a woman... With romantic intentions. Have you seen that?" - Dina winked at him, making a total douche out of Jesse. Both you and Ellie were grinning on the other side. Normally, Ellie wasn't taking sides in conversations involving Joel, but she was so drunk she was grinning next to you.

Suddenly, you let out a long sigh and you put your hand on your stomach. - "Oh, and it's here." - Ellie noted, helping you on your legs. See? Everyone was just waiting until you throw up. Once you'd throw up, the night was most likely over. But Diego had stood up as well, catching your waist in the process.

"What the fuck are you doing?" - You stopped. The look you gave him was so cold that his palm immediately flew back to his side. - "I supposed you'd need some help." - The boy whispered, licking his lips as he watched you. Until that moment, everyone thought that you're a thing, especially when he kissed you on the damned dancefloor. But as soon as you answered him, everyone understood that you're not the case. Jesse also thought about pulling the dude back on his chair for a minute. - "You supposed fucking wrong, then."

Everyone sitting at the table watched you disappear in the crowd. Diego's expression was full of sadness and surprise as he sat down, and there was a weird silence ever since you left for the restrooms. No-one was looking at you and even though, there was this thought implanted to your head that someone out there is watching every mood you made.

The whole time and party seemed to slow down as you walked around Tommy, Maria, and Joel. It almost appeared that the man isn't watching every step you took, but you saw his eyes flickered in your direction when you walked to the back part of the building. Jesus, you weren't that excited in years. Literal years. You could hear the muted music when you looked into each of the four restrooms to see if they're empty. And for the love of God, you had your lucky day.

There wasn't much talking anyway. Just straight off the bat, when Joel opened up the door and there was this small moment of silence when you just watched the man - you missed gripping the too-long hair, the feeling when the beard was scratching your skin... And these shoulders. This man was one damn multipack. When you were done with taking the view, you leaned in to pull on his palm, dragging him into the cabin which was the further from the door.

His shoulder probably hit the doorframe, but you were too lost in the kiss to even notice it. And he was probably lost in it as well. Before pulling his brown leather jacket off, you made sure that the door is locked. Quickly, you pulled the jacket off him, his shirt following after that. Meanwhile, the man was looking at your dress with clear confusion.

"Aren't you cold in this?" - He asked, making you giggle before answering something. - "I suppose you're about to make me feel warm, arent you?" - That was it. No matter how much was Joel amused with you, he covered up your mouth as you still giggled into his skin. - "You need to be real quiet now, baby girl."

That made you shut up for a few seconds. Sure, he called you girl before, but being called a baby girl? What was that? Didn't he tell you that he does only 'no strings attached things'? Without hesitation, you nodded to assure him that you're gonna be a good one. It didn't last too long tho - the man got on his knees quickly, slowly raising the skirt of your dress up.

"What are you doing, Joel?" - A question flew out of you as you watched his palms smoothing your thighs. Jesus, this man was sure a masterpiece in so many regards. With a long sigh, the man got back upon his legs, tugging his t-shirt off. Oh fuck. This situation was getting serious - first, he called you baby girl and now, he took his t-shirt off. This was the first time he had done something like that. Immediately, you could see why he wasn't taking it off during your sessions - there was this big, thick scar on his right hip which was not too good-looking.

"Open up for me, come on." - The man said, looking on your lips. So, like the good girl you were, you opened your mouth - just for Joel to put his t-shirt between your lips as a form of a gag there. And it almost made you gag when you felt the fabric on your tongue. - "Keep it in. Soon, you won't even know it's there. I swear."

When that was said, Joel got back on his knees, starting over. This time, the man was taking his time. It wasn't just a bathroom quickie, as you expected, it was as a full-blown making love session when you watched his lips kiss a trail on your thigh, continuing over your hip, up to your shoulder just to take the dress off of you. For a moment, the man leaned his back into the wall opposite of you, playing with your dress between his palms. Jesus, that nasty grin was killing you.

"I sure as hell was a good boy this year, huh?" - He whispered with that typical raspy voice since his vocal cords were already giving up at the sight of you. Every damn time he saw you naked, he just suddenly lost his voice. More like he lost his mind every fucking time you undressed - just like that, it just happened. Before you had the time to answer, he was on his knees again, both of his palms holding your waist in one place. It took you a while to process the sight - and when your drunk brain finally clicked with the connections, you just stared at him, entwining your fingers to the locks of his hair.

No-one, and I mean no-one, ever had taken your underwear off with their teeth. Joel was gripping his teeth into one side of the thing, skillfully tugging it down. If Dina would've told you that Jesse was doing this to her, you'd most likely piss yourself, because it was just silly to imagine that. But Joel getting on his knees to do that shit? Holy motherfucking God. It almost felt as if you hadn't been even living until that moment.

The man didn't lose any time over staring at you with hungry eyes - he went down on you as soon as your panties were taken off enough. It never felt better with the man. Let you explain - he knew what he was doing every time he went down on you or when he was showing you something new. He knew how to make you relaxed and you were trusting him enough to tell him to stop when you weren't feeling it. But this night was different - the names, the t-shirt, Joel was acting somehow different. And it was making you feel really good.

"Hey?" - Someone asked into the muffled sighs which were almost unbearable. You almost took the t-shirt down, just to see the man looking your right in the eyes while still eating you out, shaking his head. So you bent your head until it rested on the wall and carefully put your hand on the door to ensure the girl won't open them even though they were locked already. With that, you also pulled your other palm.

As the girl did what she needed to do, a thought crossed your mind, which made you grin. You had Joel being as obedient as a fucking dog - he was on his knees, quietly and slowly working on his masterpiece as he slowly caressed your skin. That put just a grin on your lips. Yet just when the girl left, the man pulled away, making you look at him.

"Lean into the door, baby girl." - Oh, you loved it when he was direct with you like that. Without hesitation, you did what he wanted you to do, leaning your palms into the cold wood, showing him your whole ass. Joel knew he has to control himself, but that didn't stop him from giving you one good spank after he took his dick out, finally sinking into you. Just as his t-shirt was keeping your moan down, you heard the typical soft grunt he did every time he slipped inside for the first time. You've never heard something as sexy as that, you'd say. The first few moves were just lustful - his palms gripped both your breast to take them out of your bra, first few moves were so hasty it made the wood under you shake. Just when you were rolling your eyes, both of you started to pay attention to the shrieking of the main door leading to the restrooms.

"Y/N? Are you here?" - A voice asked, making your eyes widen as Joel skillfully rolled his lips. The person behind the door was Diego, which made him make such moves with his pelvis that you began to shake. Horrified expression appeared on your face when you felt Joel's palm tugging the t-shirt from your mouth. His daring expression told you to answer the boy.

"Y-yeah. What do you need?" - You answered with your eyes closed, making Joel grin when he started to feel your body slowly hammering against his. All you was capable of was to think about that D making you feel so good you'd scream if you could, making you mouth 'oh my motherfucking God' breathlessly. Miller was stating one thing with this - the boy will never see you as he did. Because no other man knew you the way Joel did.

"I was just checking up on you. You're here at least ten minutes already." - The boy came to the cab you two were at, making Joel stop with any movements he was doing so he wouldn't hear the man there. But if you'd have thought that would mean that hed let you be, you were wrong. The fucking man buried himself as deep as he could, putting his palm between your thighs. Which made you roll your eyes again. - "You want me to hold your hair?" - Diego asked shyly. Only if he would have any idea what was happening behind the closed door.

"No, I'm fine. You can go." - You got out somehow with stuttering, biting your lip at Joel's movements.

"Really? You don't sound fine to me." - The boy asked with worried. Just as a moan came to your mouth, you coughed loudly to cover it up.

"Just get fucking lost, Diego. Stop pretending you're my boyfriend." - Well, now it was as clear as a summer day that you are not into him. And Diego was just standing there for a while, being hurt with your word. You could be nicer, that was true, but you had to tell him already. Especially when Joel was blowing your back out the way he did.

"Sure... I'll tell Ellie to wait for you... Outside." - The black-haired boy gulped loudly, rushing out of the room at the speed of the light. Fucking finally. This time, Joel didn't even bother with covering your mouth with the t-shirt, he just pressed his palm on your lips, finishing you both as quickly as possible. You couldn't almost walk nonetheless.

"Will you come tonight, baby girl?" - Joel asked from buttoning his shirt and putting his jacket on. You smiled and wiped his beard clean from your juices. - "But I don't think that I can take another round after this, okay?" - You whispered, tiptoeing to kiss him. You were looking like a fucking mess - your hair was all over the place, your cheeks were on fire and Joel would even tell that you smell like freshly fucked girl. - "Fine. We can have some coffee and tea while watchin' some dumb Christmas comedy." - The man leaned down to kiss your forehead before giving your ass one last slap as you left the cabin.

He left five minutes after you so you wouldn't be that suspicious. Sure, Joel's mood was suddenly a million times better than before he left for the restrooms, but Tommy was too drunk to notice the obvious signs of being freshly fucked.

Ellie was waiting for you in front of the hall, already having your jacket prepared to dress you up, your presents were inside a bag. Since you saw her face, you knew something was wrong. Something was bothering her. - "Okay, what are you thinking about?" - You interrupted her, making the green-eyes girl looking at you.

"You want the first thing or the second thing?" - She teased you back, having you grin at the question. - "I can handle both." - You assured her, slowly walking through the snow while entwining your elbow with hers.

"You didn't have to be so hard with Diego. This boy didn't exactly choose to fall in love with you." - Ellie told you quietly. So he'd told her. Or your harsh answers made him look so bad that he was a little cry baby. Your eyes rolled on their own. - "Just talk it out. Tell him you're sorry and that you're not interested. And if he doesn't realize he's acting like a fucker even after you gently tell him, I'll beat the shit out of him."

"Okay, I will do that, miss. And now tell me about the Joel thing." - You have risen your eyebrows, giving Ellie one of those knowing looks. You caught her off guard. She didn't tell you it's about Joel, yet somehow, you knew. You were her best friend for real, even reading her mind and shit.

"I mean, I know I'm not talking to him... But... He would tell me. I think. That he's seeing someone. Even if I don't greet him, he always tells me everything, just like back then." - Ellie sighed, being confused with the whole 'Joel is dating' situation. - "I just hope he knows what he's doing and that the girl isn't just some bitch who doesn't even love him." - This was the sweetest thing you heard that day. They weren't talking and even though Ellie pretended to hate him, he was worried about his love life. You couldn't tell her that you're the one he's spending nights with, or at least you hoped so, but you snuggled her shoulder and sighed lightly instead of telling her not to worry.

"Wanna build a snowman?" - You asked, giving her a big smile. It was fun - and when you were sure Ellie had gone home for real, you changed into a comfy sweater and sweatpants, leaving for Joel's house. The man prepared the living room, made you a hot cup of tea - with honey, which was special - and turned on the movie. Since you were both drunk, you didn't realize you fell asleep, snuggled up under one blanket.

When you were walking home at six a.m., you almost flipped when Dina was running in your direction. She was looking confused and she sure as hell was crying just a while before. You ran to her to meet her in the middle, catching both of her shoulders. - "What happened, Dina?  What is it, baby?" - You asked with worries.

"It's... It's Eugene. He had a heart attack." - She stuttered out and started crying again. With that, you hugged her and closed your eyes as you tried not to cry.