#or. well. screening too close now cause I procrastinated for an hour and a half
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amrv-5 ¡ 6 months ago
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exploding and dying forever and ever <- didn't drink coffee, hungry cranky tired. Also yeouch cramps! And I forgot to pack lunch (boo!). + I don't want to do the work. Anyway getting over it going to start the shot analysis for Jeanne Dielman before screening, watch Cure, finish the Dielman shot analysis at home (and start SedmikrĂĄsky / finish that??? I can power thru these mini analyses pretty quick and then I only have to wrap up the. dubious. argument and then intro which can happen. later in the week. by which I mean tomorrow and friday, leaving all of next week open for fine tuning the Conference Paper From Hell + final week preparation / readings / etc). Then dinner and do some writing
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vashsmunch ¡ 2 years ago
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The guy next door
Millions Knives x GN Reader
Synopsis: you're a stressed and overworked college student with a neighbor who likes to get on you about self care
Warnings: none really? slight mentions of food deprivation
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─── · 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
"How much longer are you going to continue to toss in your sleep?"
You sighed heavily, picking up the phone and staring angrily at the screen. "If you hate it so much, you can either: A. hang up or B. come over and bring some food, cause I'm hungry," Huffing as you rolled onto your back, you got out of bed and trudged across the room, stretching. "Specifically a turkey sandwich, make sure you panini press it." The clock read ten past midnight, and insomnia was a bitch. You opened the door to enter the hallway towards the kitchen. A massive project was due at the end of the week, but you figured you couldn't get anything done with the burnout you were experiencing.
Nai scoffed, his voice loud from being on speaker mode. "I would sooner be shot in the leg than deliver you any package at this hour. Do you not have any food in your apartment?" You could basically feel his irritation radiating from the screen.
"Uh... would a spoonful of oregano count? If we're feeling spicy, we can just do a glass of water." You silently laughed, putting the phone on a table and flicking the lights on. Food was never a priority considering how much work you always were having to catch up on (procrastination). Eating became an afterthought to allow yourself more time to sit hunched over your laptop, typing countless essays. Unfortunate, but there wasn't much you could do about it. There was a knock on the front door as you passed the living room. Who the hell... You cautiously walked over and looked through the peephole. Huh. A big grin was on your face as you opened the door, arms crossed. "Well, look who it is."
Nai pursed his lips as he shoved a paper bag into your hands. "The thought of you standing in your kitchen, shoving fistfuls of spices into your mouth, was too pathetic to bear," He stepped inside and looked around your messy apartment in distaste. "Did I not just clean this last week?"
He had, in fact, cleaned the living room last week, including the rest of the house, but you played deaf, humming as you followed him. The two of you have been neighbors for months, his place next to yours, which is how he came over so quickly. Irritating him was your favorite pastime, half because of his reaction and the other because you loved being close to him. You would never admit that to him, though; he would never let you live it down. But none of this really explained why he had your food prepared as soon as you'd asked. Maybe he was some kind of off-brand supernatural speed demon and happened to do it fast? You wouldn't put it past him.
He suddenly stopped walking, and you bumped into him, hissing as you grabbed your head in pain. Why was his back built like concrete? "Ugh, you good? Kind of hard to walk if you're just gonna stand in the middle of the hallway like that."
A slight scowl was on his face as he turned to face you, having just now entered the kitchen. There were piles of dishes in the sink and boxes of delivery everywhere, most notably cheap Chinese takeout (orange chicken got you through writer's block). You hadn't had time to clean recently; more often than not, you were just eating to feed your brain and then going straight back to work.
Sitting down and actually enjoying a meal hasn't been a reality ever since you started university. There just wasn't enough time. "I thought we agreed that you would buy groceries this week."
You shrugged, going to set the paper bag down on the counter. "I can last a few more days without them. There are leftovers from what I hadn't finished yet," When you pulled out the container of food, a smile came on your face again. Not only had Nai made your sandwich, but he had given you a side of salad, along with freshly cut fruit. He always ensured you had nutrients instead of just fats and grease in your meals. "How did you end up making this so quickly anyways?"
"I had it already made. I assumed you would be neglecting your basic human needs, and I was proven right once again."
What a smartass. Rolling your eyes, you sat down to eat your food. As you took a bite of the sandwich, you sighed happily and closed your eyes in satisfaction. He was a smartass, but damn, could he cook. You popped an apple slice into your mouth and glanced at him, getting a trash bag to clean up. "You really don't have to do that. It's not your responsibility," All you got was a grunt in response, making you laugh softly. "For someone who complains everytime he does it, you always insist on cleaning up after me."
You rested your elbows on the table, cradling your head in your hands as you stared at him. He looked really good for someone who was half asleep at 12 am. He always insisted on wearing a tight black turtleneck to bed, no matter what. Your eyes rolled over the crevices of his flexing back muscles as he picked up trash. Had he been working out more? How did he even find the time? Nai took as many classes as you did, but he always seemed one step ahead of his work, all while balancing a healthy routine as well. He went on runs, played piano in his spare time, and even meal prepped.
In some ways, you envied him. To have your life put together in that way seemed impossible for you. "You know, I never call anybody," He stopped moving and turned his head to look at you, but you kept talking, not even paying attention. "I get too anxious for that, so I prefer texting. But for some reason, you always insist on doing these nightly calls, even when we see each other every other day. Why? Especially when you always complain about me tossing and turning." You said playfully as you took another bite of your sandwich. Why did he have to be so good at cooking too? Fuck.
There was silence as he got up to tie the garbage bag and wash his hands. You glanced around the kitchen, which looked remarkably cleaner. All he did was pick up trash, which looked better than when you did chores for a full day. Who the hell was this dude?
As Nai dried his hands off, you finished your food, sighing contentedly. Then, a sudden wave of exhaustion washed over your body as you started to sway. He grabbed your shoulder, keeping you from almost hitting your head on the table. You weren't even phased as he picked you up and carried you in his arms back to your room like you weighed nothing. Guess the all-nighters finally caught up to you. He glanced down at you as he made his way to the back of the apartment, but you barely noticed due to how tired you were. There was a comfortable quietness between you two, as there always was. Sometimes, words didn't need to be said; his presence was enough. Again, you would never say this out loud. He would become insufferable. What a bitch.
As he stepped into your room, he delicately placed you on your bed, and you yawned, laying your head on the pillow. Jesus, you really were exhausted. As your eyelids started to flutter shut, you felt something touching your face. You looked up to see Nai's finger caressing your cheek with an unreadable expression. He then spoke quietly, "You are one of the only people who attempt to converse with me. I never understood why; I am not a fun person to talk to." He leaned over and got closer to your face, meeting your gaze. "However, I've grown fond of you regardless. And as such, I've also started to enjoy hearing your voice, which is why I call you."
You stared at him, suddenly wide awake. He was never one to talk about himself, much less his feelings. The two of you never had such intimate conversations, and on the rare occasion you did, it was always you ranting to him as he quietly listened. To hear him confess his true motives like this, it felt foreign. But it also made you... happy?
"As insufferable as you are, to be without you is like torture. I feel the urge to care for you and keep you safe. I clean up your apartment because I know you won't do it yourself. I make your favorite meals because you deprive yourself of things you need to stay alive. It's an integral part of my life that I can't bear to part with, and I want to keep cherishing you like this as long as I can. Because I care about you. More than you'll ever realize," He gives you a small kiss on the forehead as he stands up to leave. "Now rest, and I'll come to visit you in the morning." As he leaves, you roll over on your back to stare at the ceiling. He likes you. Holy shit, he likes you. Dear god.
A/N: i was NOT expecting so many people to find my account already LMAO, i'm honored
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dragoqueen ¡ 3 years ago
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5 Times Bucky Helped out Peter + 1 Time Peter Returned the Favor
Summary: Peter may or may not be one of the best procrastinators there is. Which leads to some tricky situations when he has patrol late in the night and school in the morning. Luckily, Bucky is there to help him out. 
Words: 1790
Alright, so maybe procrastinating on his homework by going on patrol wasn’t the best idea when he had a 3 page paper on WWII due the next day. But, in his defense, he had already created a plan for it. The thing could practically write itself at this point, and if only it could. The real problem was that he left it on his desk, and he didn’t remember half of it.
So here he was, sitting at his desk in the dark, with a single lamp on, a large mug of coffee to his right, and a computer with a blank google doc pulled up, the blinking cursor reminding him of every second gone to waste of him not getting any work done. His eyes were dry from staring at the screen for a good half an hour, and he was about ready to give up and just accept the terrible grade.
Suddenly, a noise from the hallway pulls his attention away from the computer. Footsteps slowly approach his room, though his spidey sense doesn't alert him of any danger. A mental arm slides through the cracked doorway and slowly the rest of the door opens to reveal Bucky, blinking from the sudden exposure to light. Peter quickly turns the brightness on his computer down before turning back to the man who had already taken a seat on the bed. “What are you doing up so late?” he asks gruffly, though Peter can sense the well-meaning-ness behind the question. 
“Forgot I had a paper due tomorrow. It’s kinda important, can’t miss it.” he answers. 
“You know you’re supposed to do that kind of stuff over time, properly. That way it turns out nice. What’s the paper over?”
“World War Two heroes.”
He lets out a soft snort, “well that should be pretty easy. You have two of us living with you.”
“Yeah, but all of my research is currently sitting in my desk at school and this is due tomorrow! It’s going to take at least a few hours to write this.”
“Peter, you can’t be doing this. A growing boy like you needs his rest. Especially you, being a growing spiderling and all.”
“I know. I’m sorry if I woke you up, I’m just trying to get this done as quietly as possible. I already made a cup of coffee to keep me up so I should be fine, and I promise I’ll go to bed when I’m done if you want to go back to sleep.”
“No. I’ll help you. Research will take too long, I’ll provide information and fuel. Stay here.”
Bucky stands up, ruffling Peter’s hair before exiting the room. Peter awkwardly sits there, his chair angled towards the doorway, as he waits for Bucky to return. He’s just barely fighting against sleep when he hears Bucky’s footsteps approaching the room. Ha makes an attempt to sit up more, but decides to just prop his head up with one hand. 
Bucky pov
Bucky gives the kid a smile when he sees him. He was super adorable, and was definitely worth protecting. He’d pulled plenty of all-nighters before, mostly just from nightmares and his body refusing to sleep. His mind always returns back to his time in the army and with HYDRA. He’d only told Steve about these nightmares, and typically they’d get through it together. Especially since Steve had trouble sleeping as well after being frozen in the ice for so long. However, Steve hadn’t been up when Bucky’s body refused sleep, and he’d seen the light in the baby spider’s room. One thing led to another and here he was, handing him a large pitcher of ice water, a cup, and a plate containing four ham and turkey sandwiches cut into triangle halves. 
“Here’s the deal. You’re going to work and I’ll answer any questions that you have. If you finish at a reasonable time, I’ll make you a huge breakfast in the morning as a celebration. What hero did you choose? Steve… Peggy…?” 
“Oh, actually Mr. Winter Soldier White Wolf Bucky Barnes, sir. I chose to write about you.”
“Me…” Bucky’s baffled. He hadn’t viewed himself as a hero in the slightest. Especially with all of the Winter Soldier… stuff. Even during the war he was more of a sidekick than anything. One of “Captain America’s” many accomplices. The kid was sweet though. “I… okay. I guess helping you with this thing is going to be easier than I thought. Umm… What kind of information do you need, kid?” 
“One paragraph has to be general information about your life before the war, like where were you born, where did you go to school, what was your childhood like, etc. The second one has to be what was your contribution to the war, what you were mots known for, etc. And then the third one is about your affect on others and our everyday life, which is more based on me than research I need for you. All and all, pretty easy. Especially with your help, Mr. Bucky Barnes, sir. My research hadn't resulted in a lot of stuff because it's a "controversial topic at school," the kid actually used air quotes. He's so precious. "But, I did you anyway because you're really cool and more people need to realize it. Sorry if I ranted a bit there."
“It’s fine kid. Like you said, this shouldn’t be too hard. Also, you can just call me Bucky.”
“Alright Mr. Bucky. Let’s get started? I can just write down the information I need and then you can go to sleep-”
“Nope, we’re in this together. I’m staying up as long as you are so better get started.”
“Oh… alright then. I’m going to write a quick thesis and then maybe ask you a few questions based on the different paragraphs, if that’s all right?”
“Perfectly fine, kid.”
Peter writes out a quick thesis he’d been mulling over as he’d stared at the blank screen for so long. He thought it actually wasn’t half bad. Then, he begins filling in information on Mr. Barnes’ (he was still planning on calling him that in his head) childhood, adding in a few fillers here and there to make the essay fit the guidelines. Every once and a while he’ll take a long gulp of water or take a bite of one of the sandwiches. They were really good.
By the time the kid has gotten to his conclusion paragraph, he’s nearly fallen asleep multiple times, and the plate of food has long gone, though Bucky had continued to keep the pitcher full for the kid, despite his reassurance that he didn’t need it. Like heck he did. Finally, kid types the last sentence and turns it in, slumping over his desk on top of the recently closed laptop. Bucky chuckles, and grabs the dishes from the desk, assuming the kid would move to the bed by himself. Once he’s returned to make sure he’s asleep, the kid’s passed out, still over the desk. Bucky picks the kid up and moves him to the bed, Peter only letting out a small sigh in his sleep as protest. He pulls the covers over him before closing the doors behind him, moving back to his own room after finally feeling tired. 
Steve’s sitting at the edge of his bed when he returns, looking slightly worried. He grins when he sees his husband return, scooting over to allow him to sit down. “Sorry I wasn’t up, you know you could’ve woke me up, right?”
“I know. But I didn’t want to disturb you. After all, you looked so peaceful,” he teases. “And anyway, the kid was still up doing an assignment.”
“He get it finished?”
“Yeah, helped him a bit. Gonna have to make him breakfast in the morning as a reward.”
“Well aren’t you the parent.”
“Shut it punk. I want to sleep.”
“Alright.” They both return to the bed and end up passing out almost instantly. 
Bucky wakes up first the next morning, surprised to get some of the best sleep he’s gotten in a while. As promised, Bucky makes a large meal, fit for the endless void of food that was caused from the family of spies, gods, super soldiers, and other assorted bottomless pits. For the rest of them he whips up some pancakes, bacon, and eggs. However, for Peter he makes a couple of chocolate-drizzled croissants (a favorite of the spiderling) a chocolate flavored smoothie (with a bit of coffee mixed in for energy), and a small bowl of assorted fruits. 
Soon after the foot is done the team begins to trickle in at their own pace. Pepper and Natasha are up first, having breakfast together with a cup of coffee before moving off to their assorted morning duties. Sam, Clint, and the twins appear shortly after, fighting over the biggest pancakes like children. In the middle of it Steve appears, giving his husband a kiss on the cheek before sitting in between the two squabbling children. Sam and Clint give one last glare to each other before settling with the food on their plates. Tony and Bruce were at a science convention meeting, so they were currently at a hotel in Washington. Strange had taken a visit to Kamar-Taj, so he too was absent from their breakfast.  And Thor, Loki, and Carol were all off-world. 
Finally, the spiderling made an appearance, solidifying his child-like being by rubbing his eyes with his fist, blinking into the chaos of the morning. FRIDAY automatically dimmed the lights as he walked in, alerting everyone of his presence. Various greetings were exchanged as he sat down at their abnormally large table for his breakfast. He looks at Bucky curiously, to confirm that his breakfast would be a satisfying reward, his eyes growing bigger than they had thought humanly possible when the tray of food was set before him. “Wow, thank you Mr. Bucky. You really didn’t have to do this!”
“Hey! How come the kid gets a special breakfast?” Clint complains.
“Because the kid actually works hard for things in life, and this is a reward for him. Now eat up Peter, Happy will be here to pick you up in about 20 minutes.”
Peter nods his thanks before digging into the meal. It tastes even better than he could have imagined and by the time Happy comes to pick him up, he’s eaten it all and feels fresh and prepared for the coming school day. 
When he returns from school he happily tells everyone in the tower of how his teacher really enjoyed his WWII essay and had him read it aloud, which earns himself a proud smile from Bucky. 
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withcreamandsugar ¡ 4 years ago
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🌺🌸haseul group project in college au🌸🌺
HI IM NOT DEAD school has been kicking my ass HAHA i promise i’ll try to be more active!! enjoy this lil au i’ve been working on since literally my last post!!
“Alright class, start grouping up for the project presentation next week! Don’t procrastinate, this is worth 30% of your grade!”
You were halfway through processing what the professor had said until you realized the classrooms cliques had already started forming. Those seemingly without a group were you, a couple tongue deep in each other, and a pretty girl writing down notes while humming to herself with an airpod in her ear.
You gulped as you walked over to her, making sure not to trip over the occupied couple next to her.
“Hey, I’m y/n. Sorry to bother you but-“
You got through half your sentence before realizing she was still humming along to the song on her phone.
You tap her shoulder, and in response her eyes shoot open, meet yours and a blush begins to form.
“S-sorry! I didn’t realize you were talking to me. What did you need?”
“Haha, no worries. I just wanted to know if.. you wanted to be in a group for Prof’s project next week?”
“Wait, p-project?? Oh gosh, zoned out once I realized those two lovebirds started to go to town right next to me. I’m Haseul, and they’re my friends, Jiwoo and Sooyoung. Well, you’re welcome to join us, but I hope you don’t mind the distraction, heehee.”
You exchanged details, mentally first pumping at the idea of getting a girl like her’s number, and decided to work on the project during the upcoming weekend.
“WHAT??”
You jumped in your chair at Haseul’s scream, and felt the gaze of the entire library glaring at your table. After a mass of hushes and sighs, you quietly inquired Haseul about what had happened.
“Those two idiots decided to take the weekend off in Busan! IN BUSAN!”
After yet another mass of hushes, you desperately tried to get Haseul to calm down.
“Okay, it’s okay. Uhh, so let’s see... We only have 3 days until the presentation, so if we pull an all nighter we can probably get... 90% of the work done by the end of the weekend.”
You heard her audibly gulp. “Did you say... all nighter?” She looked up at you with puppy dog eyes and a pout, then collapsed face first into the library table.
“I’ll buy us coffees.” She groaned, still face down on the table. “Make that two coffees. And a cookie.” patting her on the head as you headed to the cafe.
“Good thing my head was down,” Haseul thought, as her face had instantly started blushing.
~~two coffees and a cookie later~~
The two of you worked hours on end on the presentation, nitpicking every meticulous detail fueled by the burst of caffeine. You notice Haseul’s tip-taps on her laptop keyboard grow progressively louder, culminating in a frustrated groan/growl.
“Everything alright Haseul?” you asked
“I can’t get this stupid image to compile!” She started smacking the laptop screen between every word - “If only this old jank piece of shi-“
“Hey, hey!” You grasped her smacking arm without thinking and held it for a short moment, leading to both of you awkwardly pulling back and looking away. “I-I think now would be a great time for a break.”
“But if we stop working we won’t be able to finish by Mon-“
“So I’ll keep working. You need to rest. Come over on my side of the bench and take a nap, you can lay on my backpack.”
Haseul let out a long sigh. “That doesn’t sound very comfortable.” Haseul remarked snarkily with a smirk.
“You’d be surprised at how comfortable a Psych 114 textbook is. Great lumbar support,” you jabbed back.
“Har har. I’ll take your word for it.” Haseul sauntered over and took up your offer.
Not even an hour into your work grind you get bored and look over to see Haseul splayed out on the bench, already deep in sleep. You thought this would be a perfect photo op for later, so you sneak over and hover your phone over the sleeping beauty’s not so beautiful drooling face. You snap a few pics, giggling at the idea of showing them to her later.
However, you suddenly lose your grip on the phone and to avoid dropping it on her face, you quickly swipe it away to the side. The jerk in movement causes you to fall out of balance and stumble on top of Haseul on all fours.
The two of you look at each other in utter disbelief, eyes wide open at the situation you find yourselves in. You look at each other for a very long time, the library’s silence deafening more than ever. Your heart races as you question what to do before beginning to push yourself off of her.
All of a sudden, Haseul grabs your arm much like you did hers prior. “Now or never,” the two of you simultaneously thought. You lean in slowly, eyes closed, every second feeling like a millenia. The two of you are hairs apart when you hear,
RIIIING. RIIIING. RIIIING.
Your phone blares, echoing throughout the silent library. You jump up instinctively and rush over to answer, hearing a familiar voice.
“Heeeeeeey good morning y/n!! I hope you and Haseul didn’tmiss us too much, heehee! It turns out, Sooyoung and I missed our train to Busan last night, so we can work on the project after all. See you at the library in 5? Later!!”
Ears ringing you shut the phone, laughing to yourself at the irony of the situation. You remember the situation you were in a minute ago and turn your vision back to Haseul.
Haseul sheepishly looks down, avoiding eye contact. “S-so about the project! I can continue working on-“
Haseul got through half her sentence before you placed a fleeting peck on her lips, leaving her astounded. She covered her face with her hands, her cheeks almost matching her red nail polish. “W-why? Not that I minded or anything!”
“I just thought I needed to get that through before you kill me,” as you showed her your phone screen, slowly swiping through the multitude of her sleeping photos taken at numerous unflattering angles, before starting to run away in fear and/or joy.
“Ya! Delete those!” She ran after you, throwing the contents of your comfy backpack at you as the two of you started a wild goose chase around the empty library. “I can’t believe I ever thought about liking you!”
You thought to yourself mid sprint and out of breath, “I found her.”
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bonnyskies ¡ 4 years ago
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slowly fading [one] ⇢ kth
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it’s been two years since your relationship with taehyung ended. the broken pieces of yourself that he left behind finally mended. at least, that’s what you thought until you accidentally ran into the man himself who left broken in the first place.
pairings — ex!soulmate!taehyung x ex!soulmate!malereader, taehyung x fem!oc
genre — angst, fluff, non idol au, soulmates au, exes to lovers au
series warnings — lots of angst, swearing, bisexual!taehyung, some fluff, tae’s confused feelings, frequent flashbacks, reader’s heart gets broken a lot, sexual themes, cheating, and mentions of drugs and alcohol
word count — 1.5k
author’s note — i’m starting a taglist for this series, so let me know if you’d like to be part of it.
masterlist
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The peaceful sound of classical music and a sweet scent of vanilla filled your fairly large office. They were calming distractions.
As you typed away on your computer, you didn’t notice your office’s glass door opening and your boss, Park Jimin stepping inside, too engrossed in your work. You didn’t even notice him walking towards you until he was already in front of your desk, clearing his throat quite loudly and breaking you out of your trance.
“M-Mr. Park,” you stammered, quickly standing up from your desk so that you could properly meet his gaze. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you enter.”
“{Name},” he chuckled, “I’ve told you countless times already, you don’t need to address me like that. We’re friends.”
You nodded, then sat back down behind your desk, Jimin copying with the seat in front of you. “So, Jimin. What brought you here to my office?” You asked with a slight teasing tone as his name fell from your mouth.
Jimin rolls his eyes playfully and shakes his head before dropping a beige-colored file onto your desk. “These are just documents from some businesses that want to partner up with us. You know, flower shops, caterers, dress and suit designers, the usual,” he explained. “I need you to transfer the information they gave us into the company’s computer.”
“Okay, got it.” You nodded, taking the heavy file and placing it beside your computer. You expected him to leave after that, but instead, he leaned back against the chair with his arms resting behind his head.
“Jimin,” you stared at your boss with confusion, “Is there something else you need, or...?”
“No,” he shook his head, reaching inside his suit’s pocket and taking out his phone. “I’m just bored,” he only said, briefly glancing at you before returning back to his screen. “And don’t feel like staying in my office alone.”
You chuckled.
Park Jimin. There are many things you admired about him. But what you admired the most was that even with his wealth and authority, he never let any of those things get to his head.
“Well, I’m glad you thought of me for entertainment,” you teased sarcastically, “But I’m afraid I’m busy with the work you gave me.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be completely silent.” Jimin reassures, pursing his lips as he focuses more intently on his game rather than you. “It’ll be like I’m not here,” and just as those words came out of his mouth, a loud explosion was heard coming from his phone, making you roll your eyes exasperatedly.
He kept his promise though, and kept quiet as you worked on the assignment he gave you. But that silence only lasted an hour until his phone suddenly started ringing. The blaring sound distracting you from your work.
Jimin flashed you an apologetic look before answering it, pressing the device close against his ear. You turned your attention back to your laptop, deciding that it wasn’t your business. But that changed when you heard a quiet “shit” come from him, causing you to glance towards him and raise a brow.
“Everything alright?” You asked, noticing the panicked expression on his face.
“Y-Yeah,” he quickly stuttered out, clearing his throat and scrambling up from his seat. “How about you take the rest of the day off? You can finish this tomorrow.” He said, gesturing his hands towards the scattered papers on your desk.
“I’m almost done,” you replied back, motioning your hand at the now nearly empty file and computer screen. “And I rather finish it now, anyway. I’m not a procrastinator unlike somebody,” you grinned, trying to joke but when Jimin doesn’t laugh you knew this was serious.
“Jimin, what’s wrong?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest and resting them on your desk.
“N-Nothing,” he stammered, shaking his head. “It’s nothing.” Jimin then continued to encourage, “But seriously, you should take the rest of the day off. You’ve been working hard enough already. You deserve a break.”
Before you had the chance to question him anymore, your office’s door suddenly opened and the company’s receptionist stepped in. “Mr. Park,” the young female spoke, “Your three o’clock appointment is here.” She then informed before quickly leaving.
“You’re meeting with someone?” You gaped at Jimin, who stared back at you with small hints of guilt in his eyes. When he didn’t answer, you stood up from your desk and made your way to the door. But before you could open it, Jimin placed his hand onto the handle and closed it. “{Name},” his voice was cautious, “I’m telling you, just go home. You don’t need to be a part of this meeting.”
“Jimin,” you chuckled, placing your hand over his and pulling it away from the door’s handle. “I’ve been to every single one of your meetings. What’s so different about this one?” And once those words came out of your mouth, you instantly regretted not listening to him the moment you opened your office’s door. Because next thing you knew, your eyes landed on none other than the man that left you more than two years ago, heartbroken and alone.
Kim Taehyung.
Standing beside him, hands laced together, was the woman that he left you for. The woman that changed everything.
She was beautiful, no doubt. You couldn’t help but admire her slim, yet curvy body, and how the dress she was wearing hugged every curve perfectly. Her hair was beautiful too, straight and long, going past her shoulders and down her back. Even without the ability to see color, you knew she was at least a brunette, or even blonde, judging by how light the gray appeared to be in your eyes.
She was perfect. No wonder Taehyung chose her over you. Hell, you would’ve chosen her over you.
As you glanced down her body, you felt your heart clenched and tears sprinkle your eyelids when seeing a bright, diamond ring on her finger.
“{Name}-,” Taehyung’s voice soft, making your heart ache even more. Before he had the chance to say anything else, you were already gripping onto Jimin’s hand and pulling him back into your office, slamming the door in the process.
“What the fuck, Jimin?!” You shouted at him, not caring if anyone heard, eyes glistening with tears. This couldn’t be happening. Every memory, thought, and feelings you’ve been trying to get rid for the past two years were now coming back. “How long have you been planning their wedding?”
“Only a week,” he answered, frowning. “But I’ve only been talking to his fiancée,” Jimin attempted to reassure you, but that didn’t help as the tears began to escape and slide down your face. “I didn’t know it was Taehyung until yesterday.”
“H-He’s getting married?” Your voice cracked, quickly wiping away some of the tears that stained your face.
Jimin nodded, staring at you sympathetically. He reached over and wrapped his arms around you, allowing you to rest your head against his chest as more tears began to fall. “I’m sorry,” he muttered underneath his breath, placing a small kiss on the top of your head.
“Go home, {Name},” he whispered into your hair. “I’ll take them into my office. That’ll give you the opportunity to leave without them noticing.”
You nodded, pulling away from his embrace, watching as he then gave you one last sympathetic look before leaving your office.
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“He’s getting married, Jihyun.”
You were standing alone in your one bedroom apartment’s kitchen, with your phone pressed against your cheek and a half-eaten bowl of cereal in front of you. “I saw him today with her,” you spat, frowning.
“What the fuck?” You could hear your friend curse on the other side of the line, “Are you serious? How did you find out?”
“Apparently Jimin is planning their wedding,” you answered, taking a spoonful of your cereal into your mouth and swallowing it. “But he told me that he didn’t find out it was Taehyung’s wedding until yesterday.”
“Jesus,” Jihyun sighed, “So what are you going to do? Aren’t you like Jimin’s personal assistant? You help with everything.”
“He said that it’s okay if I’m not part of it,” you answered, finishing your cereal and placing the empty bowl in the sink.
“That’s good,” Jihyun says, making you nod in agreement. “How long will all of the planning take?”
“I’m not sure,” you mumbled, running your hand frustratingly through your hair. “It’s entirely based on the clients’ decision. It could be a week, or month. I just hope that it’s soon because after they’re done, I don’t plan on seeing him ever again.”
The sound of someone suddenly knocking on your apartment’s door made you jump. “I’ve got to the go, girl, someone’s here. Love you, bye!”
“Alright, bye. Love you!”
After hanging up, you left the kitchen and quickly made your way to the apartment’s door. And when opening it, you could feel your heart stop as your eyes landed on the one person you were so intent on avoiding.
“Hey.” His voice made your heart start back up again, this time beating more roughly against your chest.
Taehyung.
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wienerbarnes ¡ 4 years ago
Text
Stressor
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Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)
Word Count: 2,622
Warnings: murder lol, mentions of gore/blood, mentions of rape (its described in like two sentences and theres a short non-graphic flashback, but pls pls pls message me if you dont wanna read and ill give u a sparknotes version), so theres angst but also some nice parts like bucky meditating okay
A/N: wrote this while procrastinating my art commissions but i bought my first laptop BY MYSELF after saving for months and im v excited :) lmk what yall think of this, i promise next part will be goofier/happier lol
MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST
“Shit… Fuck… Fuck! He’s gonna fucking kill me… fuck…”
The mumbles spill from your lips as you take in the scene in front of you. Puddles and puddles of blood covered the floor of your apartment, dirtying your beige tile and all the other surfaces with splatters. David lays in the middle, with about thirty-six stab wounds in his body.
When you and Bucky started the arrangement regarding your list, there were two rules you two agreed to follow - no matter what. First rule: Kills are never completed alone. You two are to complete the list together and help each other with everything that involves the person. Second rule: Bucky is to know everything about the person they’re killing. What they did to you, their name, their remaining family, where they live, what they eat for breakfast; everything. 
And here you were breaking both of those rules.
It was too good of an opportunity, you try and convince yourself. Bucky will understand, he’s always so understanding, he never yells, he’s always so nice to you; a choked sob escaped your body as your dirty hands fly to cover your face, tears flowing down your cheeks mixing with the blood now smeared across your skin.
…
TWO HOURS EARLIER
Bucky always told you to be extremely cautious when leaving the apartment. Even though it had been well over a year, almost two, since your prison escape, you never knew who could be watching. Every few weeks or so, your name pops up in the news, Whatever happened to one of the worst killers in modern history, How did she pull off such an escape from such a high security facility, Is she even still alive, etc.
But as soon as your name appears, it vanishes once more, replaced by some other injustice happening in the world.
Your feet take you inside a small bar, the musky scent intrigues you along with the copious amounts of peanut shells littering the floor. You take a seat on the stool and try not to pay attention to the fact that every single person in the room is staring at you right now. But you can’t blame them; you’ve dyed your hair a pastel pink now, body covered in baggy jeans and baby blue long-sleeved milkmaid top, a gift from Bucky. “You can’t wear that one t-shirt, that’s mine, by the way, forever.” He’d told you. Your rainbow painted toes and fingernails stand out under the dimmed lights of the place.
An older man behind the bar approaches you and places a napkin in front of you, “What can I get ya’?” You order some beer plastered on the wall because as far as you know, you’ve never even tried alcohol before, let alone know enough about it to have any kind of preference.
You take sips of the beer for a while, aimlessly watching the sports game playing on the TV, every once in a while glancing at the pool table where a group of older men play a game together. Suddenly, the stool beside you becomes occupied. You know it’s not Bucky, he doesn’t know you’re here and it’s not his cologne, but for a second you were hoping it was. A parallel to when you sat with him in that cafe all that time ago. When he bought you that apple pie and hot chocolate. I miss him…
You refuse to look over at the man sitting next to you, but you can feel his eyes blatantly staring at you. 
“So… what’s your name?” He breaks the silence and asks you. You don’t respond, simply just continue sipping away at your beer.
“My name is David.” He offers. A chill runs up your spine at the name and you look over at him. He looks so familiar… Where do I know him from? Have I seen him at the food market before? Is he Hydra? Did we go to school together? Were we in the Marines-
“Hey officer,” A deep voice curls into your ear, causing a chill to run up your spine.
“Fuck off, David. I’m trying to do my hair.” You don’t bother glancing at him in the mirror as you scoop more gel into your hands and smooth it onto the top of your head. You’ve let your hair grow to long and the strands keep sticking out of the bun, but the thought of asking any of the other women, or worse - the men, for help cutting it terrifies you. You’re still too new.
“Now, is that any way to talk to your higher up?” A large hand wraps around your middle and gropes your breast.
“I said fuck off.” A pointy elbow slams back into his chest, knocking the wind out of him.
“I’ll get you for that, just you wait. Fresh meat.”
Your body runs cold as you make the connection and you feel as though your entire body has shut down. You can feel the cold sweat gathering in your palms and your lower back. A lump forms in your throat and you want to cry; you want to scream. But something takes over, and although you feel terrified, you keep yourself composed; hide your anxiety.
“Do you want to get out of here? My place is only a few blocks away.” You ask, false sultriness dripping from your voice. David smirks at you, clearly not recognizing you from nearly a decade ago. 
He takes out some cash and places it on the bar, grabbing your beer from your hands and placing it on top, grabbing your hands after and leading you out of the bar.
…
Bucky sits on the floor of his living room, practicing his twenty minutes of meditation before bed. Alpine rubs her cheek against the bare top of his foot that’s crossed under his knee, but eventually gets bored before trotting around behind him to start climbing her way up his back. Bucky tries his best to ignore her tiny nails digging through his shirt, but can’t help but chuckle as she makes herself comfortable in the curve of his neck. “Guess meditation time is over, huh baby?” He whispers before gathering her in his hands and plopping her on his bed. He reaches down to roll up his yoga mat when he hears a silent buzzing from his kitchen.
Confused on who would be calling him this late, knowing that Sharon’s visiting a college friend over in SoHo and Sam’s on a date, he sees a number he doesn’t recognize flash on the screen. Bucky hesitates answering, but he knows telemarketers rarely call this late.
“Hello?” Bucky answers.
“B-Bucky?” Your shaky voice sounds on the other end. The sound is watery and raspy, like you've been sobbing your eyes out and screaming for hours.
“Bucky, I-I-I need y-your help… I fucked up,” Your voice is cut off by a hiccup as Bucky goes to grab his closest pair of pants to go over his boxers and he pulls on sneakers before grabbing the keys to his bike.
“Hey, sweetheart? Do me a favor and relax, okay? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Bucky rushes out as he locks his door behind him before making his way to the staircase.
“I’m so so so sorry, Bucky… please don’t be mad at me-e… I broke t-the rules,” Choked sobs escape you and Bucky has never heard you cry like that before.
“Listen, I’m already on my way, okay? I’ll be at yours in twenty minutes, okay?” You don’t respond as Bucky listens to your crying and you eventually hang up.
Broke the rules? What does she mean by… oh. She couldn’t have… we had our next hit planned for a few days from now. Did she do someone else on the list? Bucky tries not to think too much about it until he can get to yours and figure out what’s going on, his motorcycle screaming through the quiet night.
…
You’ve been sitting in David’s blood for about an hour now. The liquid is cold, his body is cold, the phone in your hand is cold. Nice going, you’ve really done it now. Not only have you probably just cost yourself your freedom, but you’ve ruined your jeans and the top Bucky bought you. He’s going to be so mad at you; he’s going to be so mad that he’s going to have no choice but to bring you in. He’ll be laughing as the cops drag you away-
Your thoughts are interrupted by a frantic knock on your door, Bucky’s voice calling your name on the other side.
“If you don’t open the door, I’m breaking it down!” He calls. 
You slowly stand, trying not to slip in the puddle, before walking over to the door and opening it about halfway. Bucky’s eyes widen and his brows furrowed together as he looks your body up and down.
The blood on your clothes is starting to brown and you’re covered up to your forearms in blood. Splatters decorate your face, neck and hair, and your eyes are puffy from crying.
“I-I-” You begin to stutter. Bucky silently pushes his way inside to see the bloodbath waiting for him. He pushes the door closed behind him and stares at the body laying in the middle of the floor. Your knife still sits standing out of his face.
“Who the fuck is that?”
“Bu-Bucky- I can,”
“What, you-you can explain?!” Bucky snaps, turning to face you, and you’ve never seen him look at you like this. You flinch and take a half-step backwards, bumping into the door behind you.
Bucky turns back around, a flesh and silver hand running through his hair and roughly over his face.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” He begins, voice eerily even, still staring at the body. “You're going to go shower and wash all of the blood off your body. Then you’re going to make sure this apartment is spotless. I’ll take care of… him. And then we’ll talk when I get back. Are we understood?”
You can’t seem to make any words come out so you quickly make your way to your bathroom and close the door behind you softly.
You shower until the water runs cold and your skin is tinted red. Either from the blood or how hard you were scrubbing, you’re not sure, you just didn’t want Bucky to still be in your apartment when you stepped out.
It’s not that you were scared of him, because you weren’t. You knew that Bucky would never intentionally harm you, both physically or mentally. You were more angry at yourself. Bucky's done nothing but protect you; he’s kept you a secret, helped you indirectly work through your trauma, stitched you up, made you smile and laugh when you didn’t even think that was ever going to be possible for you anymore. You broke the only rules he asked of you. You disappointed him. You’ve put him in an even worse position than he’s already in by protecting your existence.
You turn the knob of the water to the right before stepping out and wrapping your fluffy yellow robe around your body, tying it at the waist. Your apartment is empty when you step out of the bathroom, Bucky nor David occupying the space. Your walk over to your sink and open the cabinet on the bottom to take out your cleaning supplies before getting to work.
…
Bucky’s calmed down significantly by the time he gets back to your apartment. He checks his phone to see that it’s almost five in the morning before reaching in his other pocket for your keys that he took off the table, slipping the key into the lock and jiggling it until pushing the door open. 
He’s not mad at you. Perhaps he was for a bit, but he realized that anger was just fear. Had anyone seen you? Did this guy do something to you? Did he recognize you and that’s why you needed to kill him? Did you kill him because you actually wanted to experience that again? He really hoped it wasn’t the last one.
You're sitting on your bed in the corner of the apartment, splatters still visible on the sheets but the floors are clean. The room doesn’t have an overpowering smell of bleach or cleaner, but there is no trace of a body here, besides the small splatters, but those can be passed off as splashes of wine. You did good.
Your feet are stretched out in front of your as your hands are planted behind your back, propping you up. Your yellow robe is tied around your waist but the edges sit high up on your thighs.
He sets your keys on your table, kicks off his shoes, and walks over to take a seat next to you.
“Did you know I was a Marine before all of this? When I was, like, eighteen?” You break the silence, still staring at the wall in front of you.
“Yes.” 
“The guy was my unit chief. He raped me twice during my first week there.” 
Bucky remains quiet as you explain, watching your face and it’s calm expression. You hesitate, opening and closing your mouth before opening it once more to continue.
“I went to some bar tonight and he hit on me. He didn’t recognize me, and… I don’t know. I thought I’d scare him or something, remind him what he’d done. But then he was here and he kept trying to feel me up even though I’d push him away. I didn’t have a plan yet. And then he snapped at me and then I snapped back…” You trailed off. 
“After I realized what happened, I panicked and I used his phone to call you.”
“I’m really sorry, Bucky.” You say, softer now. You bring your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around your shins.
“Okay. I forgive you.” Bucky responds after a moment.
The two of you sit in silence next to each other on the thin sheets. You’re staring at the passing cars out the window. He’s staring at your plant that’s sitting on the small night stand next to your mattress. You’ve changed out the silver tin it was sitting in to a light blue one covered in green polka dots. 
You tilt your head to meet his eyes and look away briefly before meeting them again.
“Can… Can I have a hug, Bucky?” You ask, with the smallest voice in the world, your sentence ending in a small crack.
Bucky doesn’t answer and instead scoots closer to you, wrapping his arms around your body and pulling you onto his lap, your thighs on either side of him, chests touching. His left arm wraps around your back and drags slowly up and down while his right hand rests on the back of your head, softly scratching through your still damp hair. Your hands are tucked close between both your chests and your breath fans softly against his neck where your head is tucked into. He silently breathes in your scent, the children’s strawberry soap you use mixed with a homey, warm small that’s just you. He watches out the window as the sky turns from a dark blue to a deep orange; it should be about five-thirty right about now and the morning traffic is about to start.
“There’s a ton of white cat hair on your shoulder, Buck.” He hears you whisper against him, voice slurring a bit with drowsiness, the last bits of adrenaline wearing off.
He smiles to himself and holds you until you're fast asleep, and then stays for a while after that, too.
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enigma-im ¡ 5 years ago
Text
Sucker Punched
Rating: Mature Relationship: Alien X Female!Human Warning: Dirty talk, strong language, Alien/human relationship, mention of blood
Word Count:6163
         I punched an alien and now he wont stop following me around
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The bustle around the office was gratuitous and migraine-inducing. Crowds were never my thing, to begin with, now the opinion is evermore justified. The undistinguished murmur wasn't as calming as the ocean sounds its similar to. It just made me tense and strive to leave as soon as possible. Sadly my wants didn’t matter to my responsibilities. I had papers to collect and people to see.
The ESA has been visited by the Tatze, a race of peaceful bipedal beetles. They come to talk about working with ESA to help some refugees have a place to be kept. According to the few reports I had a second to review, a planet on the verge of being near a soon to be supernova star needed to uproot. The planet wasn’t too large, but it held a good diversity of beings. It was a hospitable planet that hasn’t evolved into intelligent life, so it was taken as free real estate. I knew nothing else about the situation, I just knew I had a lot of work to do.
I'm in charge of running around like a chicken with its head cut off. In other words, I run paperwork around to get signed. Mainly to accept relocations and housing. There is ample room for a good portion of these refugees but that still meant a lot of paperwork. Most of the issues being assigning people for specific jobs. I had to get approval for supervisors to run the dorms. Get people to stock the dorm, needed translators available, and empaths to help evade future problems.
As much running around I have to do, I feel worse for the people processing each individual. That’s who took up most of the room in the office. The printer has to be going nonstop since we got info on the newcomers.
I shoved around the group, holding the folder of papers close to my chest. I quickly push to Becker's office, making it through the door. I slam it behind myself, caught my breath, then got straight to it.
I caught Becker's eyes as I walked to his desk. He was standing behind his chair and on the phone. His pose was tense, which was understandable.
"I need you to read over this and assign workers for the first three decks," I spoke quickly. I toss the first folder onto his desk.
He looks down at the papers with a glare," I don’t have time for that. Give it to Regina."
"Regina already assigned her workers, now it’s your turn," I slide the folder closer. He huffs and slams his hand onto the papers.
"Fine," He snaps, "No not you, do you have Kurtis down there?" He went from snappy to pleasant in a second. Knowing the conversation was over I turn and walk out the door.
I storm through the crowd, catching a few elbows to the ribs on the way out. I cut out the offices and into the not so quiet walkway. I speed down the hallway towards the elevator, just catching it as the door closes. I stop a few feet away, debating my options. These elevators take a year and a half to respond. Which balances out the pros and cons with the capacity of the cabin. I cut my losses and turn to the stairs, the floor I need wasn’t that far.
I rush down the stairs, feeling like a missed a few on the way down. As I cut the corner for the next bout of steps. My foot slides on a mysterious wet patch. My leg slid and I didn’t have time to correct. I reach for the railing, managing to catch myself but drop the papers in the process.
"Fuck," I snarl. I right myself and make quick work of lifting the papers. Some managed to soak up some of the floor fluids. "Fuck," I groan. I drop my head to my shoulder and allow myself a second of frustration. After the second I get back to work.
I round out the door, shoulder checking some alien on the way. Not bothering to look I continue onwards. I make it to the storage office. Heading directly to the front desk I set down the folders with unorganized and slightly damp papers. I look up at the human working the information desk.
"I need everything on this sheet sent to E17 and dealt with by Sabrina," I sort through the folders before handing the worker one.
"Well absolutely, it will be my pleasure," the worker smiles brightly. The smile was anything but infectious. If I had to choose some words they would be 'damn disgusting'. They look up at me and pout, "Aw, where's that smile?"
"At home," I sneer. I turn and bolt from the room. Damn people who work in storages have it so easy. Everything is sorted and mostly automated by bots. They don’t deal with this traffic. Their smile was like a slap, making me envious of their simple work.
The next hour goes in a rush, my folder pile dwindling. I'm damn near ready to break down with a childish tantrum. I'm tired and in need of some food. I want nothing more than to roll up in my little nook of blankets. Turn on some cheesy monster flicks and pass out near some microwaved dinner.
I had one more folder, it just needed to be given to processing so they know what room is meant for the newcomers. I walk from the surprisingly quiet hallway into a less surprisingly loud waiting room. Any other time the area is covered in chairs and generally, those chairs are empty. Now you can’t even see the chairs, the room was a sea of people. Lots of Aliens, mostly staying consistent with only a few types. Varying only slightly.
I slide around the room, hugging the walls. With humans, catching some elbows it fine. With aliens, that could mean a concussion. I reach the door I need, open it with some strife. I walk into a conjoined office. The room separated by a partition wall. Some human-looking aliens were sitting behind both desks. One had a visitor and the other, the one I need, is alone. Easy in and out.
I sneak around as to not disturb the large alien sitting with the desk worker. I get behind the partition and catch Ja'Leah's eye.
"Oh hey, Phoebe," She greets as she hangs up the phone," What do I owe the pleasure?"
I walk over and set the folder down," Last one of the days. Housing, enjoy." I let go with a flourish.
"last one of the day? You must be ecstatic," She half-smiles. Ja'Leah grabs the folder and thumbs through it.
"Yes, I’m going to pass the fuck out," I sigh at the thought.
She looks up for a second," Day that bad?"
I give her a warning look," It been awful. I'm five seconds away from a breakdown."
"Sounds bad, great to look forward to. My day just started," She laughs.
"Girl, I mean this from the bottom of my heart. Good luck," I chuckle. I hear a thump from behind the wall.
"I’m going to need all the luck I need. What's that saying you have about luck," she asks. I cock my head behind the wall but ignore the noise as she asks.
"Tons of saying. Kiss for luck, luck of the Irish, um beginner's luck," I ramble.
"No, not those," she ponders," oh well, I won’t keep you." with a wave I turn to walk out.
As I pass into the other office I’m blocked by the large alien. He is snarling something out at the poor worker. As rude as it was, I didn’t care. I need to get home before I snap.
"Excuse me," I push lightly against their arm. He has a threatening protrusion from his elbow. It is attached to the padding on his forearm. I give it a wide breadth.
He turns and snarls at me, then back to snarling at the poor man. I try to sneak around again but their arm swings out, blocking the way.
"Hey, move," I snap. Reaching my final nerve. The man growls. When I press softly against his arm to move, he turns towards me fully. He crouches down so we are facing level and lets out a ground-shaking roar. His hands are posed claws out near his bent knees. I tense up and scrunch away from the air escaping his mouth. Once he is done, I turn and glare at him. Then before he could say a word, I deck him the nose.
I knew as I lifted my arm it was a bad idea. It was impulsive and without my command. His head barely moves but his jaw did shut. His hands drop as did his shoulders. Dark fluid began to drip from his nose, dripping onto the hard floor. He looks bewildered, which was impressive given his permanent scowl caused by his lowered brow. I could feel the silence in the room along with the pulsing of my knuckles. Man has a sturdy face, or I have weak bones.
Nobody said anything as he straightens. He presses his fingers to his nose, collecting the blood. He glances down at it, raising an eyebrow before looking back at me.
I lean back; afraid he is going to lash out. I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes to mind. I quickly close it and point to the door. Then as fast as I could, I walk out. Leaving everyone to the tense silence.
Oh god, I'm going to be fired.
<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>
The day ended in constant fits of anxiety. Every task was done in a mundane fashion, almost like I was in autopilot. My mind went a mile a minute. Thinking about every outcome of my boneheaded impulsion. If anyone in that room said something to my boss, I was surely doomed. This job is all I have, and I love it. Not everyone can get this kind of job, it took months of screening just to be considered. Government jobs are hard enough to get planetside but to be carted off into space to do it is almost impossible.
I walk into my office the next day, tense for the soon to be lecture and inevitable departure. Trying to be a goody-two-shoes I went straight to work. Perhaps if I seem valuable that I’d just get a warning. I found some work that needed to be handed to my supervisor. I looked it over then promptly avoid it as long as I could. Feeling the minute I let them acknowledge me I was in for trouble.
After I procrastinate as much as I could I drop my shoulders. Looking at the stapled pieces of paper.
"Guess there is no avoiding that," I huff. With a quick breath of bravery, I grab the stack and march to their office. Perhaps if I treat it like a band-aid it will somehow be less devastating.
I knock on their door, then enter when I hear their invitation.
"Phoebe, watcha need," Tyler asks. He is surrounded by stacks of folders and binders. I do not envy his job. Mine may be an over-glorified delivery person but he was the one who had to approve everything. No thank you.
"I, uh, this is for you," I lost some of my courage. He reaches out his hand ready to take my offering. I quickly hand it to him. Standing there patiently for the tongue lashing.
Yet nothing happens. He thumbs through the sheets then looks up at me with a curt smile and nod.
"Need something else," he asks.
"Uh, no I guess," I smile confused. Then I turn and walk out of the room. Closing the door behind me.
Does he not know? Did no one say anything? Why wouldn’t the large alien I sucker-punched not report me? I made the man bleed for crying out loud!
I sigh as I lean against the wall. If they didn’t say anything I won’t. I'm not going to throw myself under the bus if not necessary.
<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>
I continue with work like normal, not letting myself think about possible outcomes or reasons they didn’t say anything. It would be a dark hole to fall into. I'll worry about it later.
Today is less crazy. The offices aren't cramped, and the copy room is empty. A nice calm after the storm but I’m sure housing is losing their minds.
I hear the shuffling of people outside my door. I look up and see small groups of people leaving, looking at the clock I notice its lunchtime. Glancing at my work I figure it be a good time for a break.
Saving my work on the computer then organizing my paper, I leave. I check my pocket as I stroll to the hallways, making sure I have my money on me. The lunch here isn't expensive or good but you can’t expect the money to go to fancier things. Some alien vendors here serve some savory smelling food, making me wish I dared to eat it. The human food general stayed bland, except on Fridays. They have special meals on those days, but it was as flavorful as boxed dinners.
I enter the cafeteria and order a simple ham sandwich. I just need nutrients, so I don’t get woozy while working. Figure I don’t need to enjoy my meal. Not that I would anyway.
I grab a random table towards the back of the room. Wanting mostly to be alone today. I have friends, some being in the room, but I'm just emotionally exhausted. I’ll just think for a while. Reflect on the event of today and future work I should finish before days end.
As I stare down at my phone, I hear a chair screech in front of me. I glance up and find someone sitting across from me. Realization strikes me when I look at their face.
"Uh," I drop my hand to the table, setting my phone down. I lean back in the chair and stare at the alien who is now lacking blood from their nose.
He sits relaxed against the chair that seems comically small to his herculean stature. His torso was bare save for a dark green sash. It seems to hold some tools, serving an actual function besides cosmetics. He looks like he is wearing pants, but I can’t tell from the table. Either way, he was large and in charge. Horns that blend away from platting on the side of his head strikes me immediately when I look at his face. His dark hair was shaved into a faux hawk. Despite it being fluffy and soft looking, it did not take away from his intimidating physique. He was scary, but he sat like he wasn’t about to kill me. Which I guess is a start.
"Hey, I'm sorry about yesterday. It was uncalled for me to hit you like that," I began to apologize. He stares at me with a blank face. Seeming like he isn’t getting my words. He opens his mouth and lets out some grumbles and growls. "I did not get any of that," I stare back. Is he trying to talk?
He growls some more but when he notices I’m staring just as blankly as he was, he stops. Leaning forward onto his forearms he points to his mouth and ear. I shake my head, so he repeats. Still not getting it he sneers then holds out his hand. Motioning for me to come closer. I shake my head, not wanting him to be near my head with his clawed fingers.
He drops his hand to the table with a loud thud, giving a frustrated look. Thinking for a second before he turns his head and points at the small box behind his ear. It is a translation battery. The little computer is generally implanted behind the ear, leaving the battery exposed for easy access. We may be in the future, but no one has figured out how to keep the damned thing charged.
"Is it broke," I ask forgetting he can’t understand me. So I point at his ear then mime breaking a twig. He shakes his head. Alright, not broke. I ponder for a moment. What else could stop him from understanding? Mine isn’t broke so I should understand him. Unless his language isn’t common therefore not input into the system. I look up at him to explain my guess but remember he can’t comprehend me. How do I mime that?
I simply nod. Hoping he figures I know what he is trying to say. He nods back, leaning back into the chair. Ok, now what? He crosses his arm and looks me over, growling out some words.
"You have a weird language," I mumble to myself. He speaks some more, probably getting a little liberty as saying whatever he wants. Probably cursing me, I can’t imagine I'm his favorite person right now. I shrug and lift my phone back up.
As I swipe through my social feed, I hear him growl some more. Then growl a little louder, gaining my attention. I shift my phone aside and look at him. He points to my phone. I twist it to ask if this is what he means. He shakes his head then gestures to his hand then points at mine.
"Oh, my hand," I say mostly for my benefit. I set my phone down and look at my very bruised knuckles. For as hard as I hit him, I’m surprised I don’t have any cuts from the skin splitting. The last two knuckles were still swollen as the first two are just bruised. Guess I have a crooked punch. Not that I’ve ever really punched someone before, don’t exactly have a technique.
He reaches out and snatches my hand. I wince as his thumb presses on the several bruises. His hold loosens as he peeks up at me. He grimaces for a second, like an apology. I nod. He looks back down at my knuckles, softly tracing the bone with his thumb. He smiles and huffs before bringing his head down. He pecks at each knuckle, shocking me completely. I jerk my hand away, cradling it against my chest
"Hey, what the fuck are you doing," I snap. He leans back in his chair with a smirk. Showing off his canines that sit on either end of that smile. He crosses his arms and laughs when I glare at him. Is he making fun of me? I can’t even begin to comprehend what is happening. I also cannot deny the blush streaking across my cheeks. Being too caught up in my unease I don’t notice him reaching across the table. Using his forefinger and thumb he grabs my chin. Turning my head to face him, he smirks. Growling out something I couldn’t comprehend. Seeing how flustered I am he laughs again. Dropping his hold he leans back again.
"If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you are flirting with me," I mumble. It was meant as a joke, but it came out worried. I’m not someone who has to learn about different alien cultures, just some 'learn this to not offend' kind of stuff. Flirting, or courting as some people call it, isn’t something I learned. Perhaps this was a challenge, fight me for hitting him. It didn’t seem right. id imagine a threat comes out more, well, threateningly. Don’t see warriors kissing people's hands.
He sat with me in silence for the rest of the meal. Which I won’t lie, I kinda rushed my lunch. I pack up my trash and with a nod, I leave. His eyes follow me the entire time, all the way to the door.
<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>
The next week he continues showing up at lunch, flirting more. At least I assume its flirting. He is very touchy and loves growling at me knowing I can’t understand. I see him a few times in the hallways, following me to my office before he leaves me alone. It’s a rinse and repeat week for him. If I’m late I catch him outside the offices in the hallway.
I try to push him from my mind for the rest of my workday. Throwing the memory from my head as I indulge my workload. I actually got a lot of work done, perhaps I will have an early day as well. Completely invested I don’t hear the door open. But I do hear a chair scrape across the floor.
Looking up I see the buff alien. I push against my desk, flattening myself to the chair. He grabbed a chair and slid it beside my desk. Where he then plants himself down. I watch completely caught off guard and confused. Once he makes himself comfortable, he looks over at me. Looking me over he cocks an eyebrow. He has never entered my office before.
"Hi," I quirk an eyebrow as well. He waves before crossing his arms. Sitting there casually, leaving me the only one freaking out. Why the fuck is he in here?
I look around the room then back to him. He abandoned looking at me and is investigating my desk. Touching a few paperweights and desk toys. Regarding the few pictures, I have framed. I watch him as I sit in shock, if not confused.
Realizing I’m staring he looks over. He waves again a little confused. I glare at him then point at the door.
"Get out," I snap. He looks at the door then back at me. He shakes his head. I stand and point again. He also repeats his actions. He points at himself then the chair. I stretch my arms out," Why are you here!"
He stares blankly but amused. God, he is infuriating. I might just punch him again.
"We are getting your fucking translator fixed," I growl as I storm out the office. I can hear the chair screech and can only figure he is following me. As I march through the room, I see some people giving curious glances. I ignore them as I make my way to tech support.
<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>
I parade into the room, slamming the door against the wall in the process. The few techies in the room snap their heads up at my outburst. Their faces go a little more fearful when they see my unwanted companion.
"I have a favor," I snarl. My venomous streak should be a little worrying. It has just been a stressful week, I need the weekend.
One of the techies jump up and walk over," Y-yes, how may I help you?". He was an extremely thin and mousy looking man.
I grab the big buff boy behind me and drag him forward," His language isn't translating." to emphasize my point the alien growls out a few words. The slim man looks up at him and nods.
"Alright, um, sit over here," he fidgets his hands as he walks back to his desk. We follow and I point to the chair for Hercules to sit. He does as he is commanded but does so with an annoying smirk. Damn annoying cute smirk.
The mousy man spits out some growls to my surprise. It seems it’s also to the large man's surprise too. He tilts his head and growls back. They talk back and forth.
"You can understand him," I ask. They both turn to me, the slim man nods.
"Yes, his language is old, but I learned it during my learning years," he answers, "it's uncommon and needs time to be added to the system so it can be understood."
I grab on to the back of the large man's chair, "Then can you do me another favor and ask him why he has been following me around?"
He nods and grumbles out some words to the man. As the slim one turns to tell me the large one grabs his arm stopping him. They talk some more before the slender one finally speaks to me.
"He doesn’t want me to tell you," he answers. I glare down at him then at the large one.
"Ask him for his name then," I sneer. It takes a second for the techie to realize I’m talking to him. The large one turns to me with that damned smirk. He answers the techie.
"His name is Ker'chak, or Kurt for short," he answers. I glare down at Kurt. Keeping my gaze he reaches for my hand and brings it up to his lips. Once his lip meets my knuckles, I drag my hand away. Letting go of his chair and stepping back. He snickers then turn back to the slim man. They converse and I see the techie blush. Once again, I assume so. I’m not educated in alien emotions.
"What did he say," I ask folding my arms. The slender man looks up at me then back at Kurt.
"Uh, I rather not repeat it," he hesitates. I raise my eyebrow then look over at Kurt who is still smiling. He even winks at me. How universal is that?
"So he is flirting with me," I ask. The techie nods as he hides his face in his palm. "Ask him what do I have to do to get him to leave me alone," I cock my hip. He does as he is asked. Kurt growls, sneering at the mousy man. Then he shoots up and stalks towards me. I snap back in shock and step backward. Feeling distressed at his demeanor change.
I back up till I hit a wall, wincing as my head bangs off it. Kurt doesn’t stop till he reaches his hand over my head to the wall. His chest presses against mine. I raise my hand and push against him. My other hands staying flush against the cold wall. He grabs my fist on his chest and holds it still. Even thumbing the skin of my wrist. He growls, sounding more like a purr. His head dips so his nose brushes against my temple. He rumbles out some words.
Across the room the techies chirps up to translate," uh, he says he won’t be leaving you. Not till he can explain himself. No moment sooner." Kurt growls some more, "I'm not repeating that," the slim man calls out. Kurt chuckles as he noses my hairline. My heart beating a mile a minute and my stomach fluttering. My eyes couldn’t stop flickering as I fought against closing them. They finally won out as he kisses my temple, I sigh. I couldn’t stop myself from nuzzling back against him. Kurt chuckles as he brings my hand up to kiss.
Getting perhaps a little too caught up in the situation I barely hear the awkward coughing of the other people in the room. My eyes snap open, horridly embarrass at being seen in such an intimate situation. I rip my hand from his hold and push both hands against his chest. Raising his own hands in surrender he backs up. Laughing as he does so.
Kurt growls some more, "He is such a raunchy man," the translator said behind him. Kurt gives me a once over with a satisfied smile. He then drops his hands when he is a reasonable distance away. Turning around and sitting back in the chair. He speaks to the slim man some then look at me expectantly.
"He hopes that made it clear what his intention may be," the slender man sighs. I feel a little bad for the man, I came here for pure intention. Well mostly pure, I just wanted the lug gone. Now I'm not a hundred percent as before. God, I'm so deprived.
"I’d have to say it does," I huff. Looking down at his pants there was a slight tent. I guess that does explain his intentions.
<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>
The techie explained that getting his language into the system would take some time. Also that his translator needed to be updated. Which is good that is has been worked on since he first got here apparently. So it’s any day now when it will be done. I knew his translator was returned and just needed to wait for the update to be sent to it so he can understand everyone around him.
I did everything in my power to avoid him. His constant nearness has begun to break down my defenses. The day in the tech support was like he took a sledgehammer to my walls. I didn’t like the fluttering in my stomach at seeing him at lunch the next day. One day when I stood to get ready to go to lunch, I thought better of it. I just need some space.
It was no surprise that he didn’t care about my avoidance. When I didn’t show up for lunch, he would just come to the office and sit. After the first two times, he started bringing food with him for both of us. Just stuff to snack on, a lot of fruits or wrapped bars. It was kind of him, but it just made me more constricted. I don’t want him around, that lie tasted bitter after the second week.
As we both sat at my desk, him trying everything in his power to be distracting, I try to work. He has taken to touching me as much as possible. Like now, he is tracing the seams on my jeans. It was distracting around my shins but easily discarded. But when he got around my knees and thighs I jumped. That was like jump-starting a car because he did everything he could to make me jump after that. Right now he was tracing behind my knee, smirking up at me as I stare daggers into the computer. I’ve gotten better at acting like I don’t care. He has also stepped up his game.
Not getting the reaction he wants he grabs behind my knee and twists me to face him. I lift my hands, so I don’t sweep my keyboard off the table. Then I glare down at him.
"May I help you," I ask. He still can’t understand me, but he has gotten better at discerning the tone. Kurt smiles before he grabs my other leg and jerks me forward. I was airborne for a terrifying second before I land on his lap. Straddling him and clenching his shoulders. He growls out something then purrs as he noses at my hairline. Running his hands up the back of my thighs. Before he could grope my ass, I grab one of his hands.
"No," I slide his hands down. He pouts out the corner of my eye but goes back to smiling. He kisses behind my ear and massages my thighs. I bite into my cheek to stop the sigh that wants to escape. Having picked up on the nuances of my tone he also figured out that my little sighs were a good sign. Despite my best attempts when he nibbled on my ear, I let out a sigh. Even a small moan. This man is both infuriating and arousing.
"God, I can smell your cunt," he growls. I tense.
"What," I ask as I push back. He too tenses staring at me wide-eyed.
"Uh," he starts.
"You are vulgar," I huff with a start of a smile.
"Then don’t smell so damn good," he laughs. I squirm out of his hold to get on my feet, but he holds strong, "Where you going?"
I manage to get out of his hold and sit back in my seat, "We are going to have a nice long talk."
He huffs, "I’d rather be doing something else." I give him a once over.
"Yea, I didn’t notice," I quirk a brow. He laughs as he sits back and crosses his arms.
"Well, beautiful, it seems the translator now works. Ask away," he flourishes hand. I straighten my shirt as I get comfortable. I lean against the arm of the chair as I give him another once over.
"Why are you following me around," I start.
He tilts his head, "I feel I've answered that one."
"Not really," I respond, "I punch you in the face and suddenly you are around constantly."
He chuckles as he absentmindedly rubs his nose, "Quite the punch it was too. It was a little crooked so goddess only knows how much harder you could have hit if it was proper." He groans at the memory, running his hand over his thigh.
I look him over, "Did that turn you on?"
He snaps his head straight," Of course. Love me a woman who can put me in my place," he groans again.
"Perv," I hiss as I look away. Staring at the wall, calming my nerves a bit.
"I just know what I like, and you are it," he smiles. He reaches over and pulls my chair closer, so my knee is between his.
I glance at him from the corner of my eye, "So you just want to get into my pants?"
His hands grab my knees, "Your pants, your bed, your heart. I want to be in all of them."
I turn fully towards him, "you want to date?"
"To the divines, yes," He moans. His hands go further up my thighs, thumbing the seam. I stop him when he gets too close to my crotch.
"We are talking, stop distracting me," I reprimand. He looks from his hands to me.
"So it is distracting," he cocks an eyebrow. I glare down at him, not wanting to give up my interest yet.
"Why follow me around, I showed my disinterest very early on," I change the subject back.
"I don’t believe that was fair, I didn’t get a chance to woo you with my words," he answers," even though I believe I'm doing a great job with my body in its stead."
"Cocky aren't you," I ask as I slide his hands away.
"Damn straight, I'm a very worthy male and you are a very, deliciously strong, worthy female," he lays it on thick. He stands and presses his hands to the top of the chair. Framing my head between his powerful arms. He leans down, leaving a small space between us. "I want you, that has been very clear. Which makes me the only one being very clear. So to be completely transparent I offer this. If you want me, even a little, kiss me. If you don’t then I will walk out that door and leave you alone," he proposes.
I stare up at him, quick glances at his lips. My mind is completely blank, not offering me any words of wisdom right now. He lays it all out, it’s my choice now. If I want him to leave, he will go, be out of my hair. That thought was bitter like all the lies I told myself all week.
Fuck it.
I jump up, wrapping my arms around his neck. I press my lips to his, forceful and telling. He sucks in a breath in shock before wrapping his arms around my back. Lifting me out of the chair and holding me against his chest. Tilting his head, our nose brushing against each other, he sucks on my lip. Giving it his all; his joy, his wants, his desires.
He wraps my legs around his waist, resting his hands on my rear. He parts and gives me a warm smile. Gropes my ass and cocks his eyebrow. I chuckle at his questioning look.
"No, you are taking me out on a date and wooing me properly," I scold as I pet his hair. It is as soft and fluffy as it looks.
He pouts, " not even some hand stuff?"
"No, not in my office," I pull his horn. Tilting his head to the side and kissing him. He groans into my mouth, his hands massaging my cheeks.
He pulls back, " Then let’s go to your room, problem fixed. I've been tortured by your arousal all week. The most divine of torture but it must be remedied soon." I jerk his head back, exposing his neck.
"And you have been driving me crazy all month, live with it big boy," I kiss his neck. He hisses, baring his teeth to the ceiling.
"Goddess, you are pure torment, my sexy female," he growls. He tries to drop his head, but I jerk it back. I bite down hard onto his taunt neck tendon.
"Good, you deserve it," I laugh. I sit up straight and catch his eye, "Dinner at my place tonight."
He nods, "then sex?"
"Woo me with those words you promise and maybe," I smirk.
"I look forward to it," He grins.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Might make another part, might not. either way check out my archive. Follow for more stories, i have way too much free time with my new job.
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oopsiedoopsie23 ¡ 4 years ago
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High | Calum Hood x reader
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A/N: Surprise! Okay so I’m gonna set the scene for ya, I’ve just gotten out of the shower and gotten changed and then I walk into my room, walk out and BoOm I literally come up with this prompt and half the plot. And, me knowing how much of a procrastinator I am, needed to write all this shit down before I forgot. So enjoy this surprise post!
Prompt: Based off of the song “High” by 5SOS
Warnings: swearing
I hope you think of me high I hope you think of me highly When you're with someone else
You had moved on from Calum fairly quickly and you would be the first to admit it.
Your relationship had been in turmoil for months, but in the end it was clear, Calum was broken and you couldn’t fix him.
He wasn’t ready to love and you needed to be. 
So, you walked out of the house, tears rolling down your cheeks, and a few short months later, fell into the arms of another man. 
I know your friends all lie I know your friends don't like me They want you for themselves
Your friends had been ecstatic when you told them about the end of your relationship with Calum and, even more so when you started a new one.
It was clear throughout your whole relationship that your friends weren’t fans of Calum, causing him to feel the same about them. 
Your friends couldn’t fathom the idea of a global superstar being constantly surrounded by beautiful, adoring fans and groupies to remain faithful to you and willing to settle for a calmer and somewhat domestic life with you. 
And while it was easier for you to ignore, claiming that Calum would never do such a thing, it was harder for Calum to do the same. 
Today I called to tell you that I'm changin' But I don't think you have enough respect to see me try I've been wakin' up in different spaces But I think that my heart is built to last more than a night
He took a sip of his beer as he scrolled through your social media once again. Technically, he was scrolling through your page on Ashton’s account since you blocked him shortly after leaving him. 
He looked around the room and felt his heart break once more seeing all of his band mates with their girlfriends. 
They were all happy, full of love, the total opposite of what Calum felt. 
But Calum wanted that. 
He wanted to be happy.
He wanted to be in love. 
So he called you.
I need to stop lettin' me down, down, down, down, down I need to stop lettin' me down, down, down, down, down
He set the phone down slowly as he heard the ringing stop. He didn’t need to look at the screen to know that you had declined his call. 
He couldn’t blame you for it, for moving on without looking back. 
During your relationship, you only wanted one thing from him,
You wanted him to love you.
You wanted him to give you his heart and to declare it from the rooftops.
But he couldn’t do it. 
And now he was alone. 
I hope you think of me high I hope you think of me highly When you're with someone else I know your friends all lie I know your friends don't like me They want you for themselves
You stared at your phone in shock as it continued to buzz, almost in anticipation in your hand. 
You could sense the eyes of curious and annoyed strangers burning into you, as your phone continued to buzz but, you couldn’t look away. 
Not when the caller i.d said Calum Hood. 
But before you could lift your finger to make a decision, your friend took the phone out of your hand, tapping the decline button and placed the phone back onto the table, as if it was nothing. 
You looked at them, wide eyed as they nonchalantly shrugged their shoulders,
“You’ve got that new guy now, he’s not worth it.”
I know I'll never meet your exceptions But picture that you paint of me looks better in your mind Now every step, I take with hesitation And I always miss the memories of the mornings we were high
You stormed into the bedroom, Calum hot on your tails as the two of you continued to argue,
“All I’m asking for is one simple thing!”
“It’s not so simple, Y/N!”
“Yes it fucking is!”
“No, it isn’t!”
You groaned, “We are not doing this again!”
“Well I guess it’s too fucking late for that because what the fuck are we doing right now?”
You spun around pointing your finger,
“All I want is for you to call me your girlfriend in interviews! Hell, I’m even fine with you not even saying my name!”
I need to stop lettin' me down, down, down, down, down I need to stop lettin' me down, down, down, down, down
“It’s not that fucking simple, Y/N! I can’t just waltz into an interview and say ‘Oh yeah, by the way, I have a girlfriend.”
You cursed yourself as you felt the tears rolling down your cheeks,
“That’s bullshit and you know it!” 
“How is that fucking bullshit Y/N?!” Calum threw his hands in the air, scoffing
“You don’t get to use fucking management and the press as an excuse when you and I both know that all the other guys are able to talk about their girlfriends in interviews!”
There was a pause,
“So tell me Calum, why can’t you?”
I hope you think of me high I hope you think of me highly When you're with someone else I know your friends all lie I know your friends don't like me They want you for themselves
As soon as you got home you took out the biggest bottle of alcohol that you could find, sat on your couch and set your phone on the table in front of you. 
You couldn’t stop thinking about the phone call. 
You couldn’t stop thinking about him.
Calum had hurt you, taken your heart and spit it out, but doesn’t time heal old wounds? Or would re-opening those wounds kill you both?
 Were you willing to risk everything for him again? Were you willing to lose your friends and your new love for him?
You sat there for hours, thinking and debating until you made a decision.
Da-da-da, da-da-da, da-da Da-da-da, ooh When you're with someone else Da-da-da, da-da-da, da-da Da-da-da, ooh They want you for themselves
You lifted your phone off of the table and took a deep breath as you heard the phone ring. 
You closed your eyes as you heard his voice crack, asking you why you would do this, to him, to the both of you.
You told him that you couldn’t do it anymore. 
That you still loved him. 
You still loved Calum.
I hope you think of me high I hope you think of me highly When you're with someone else
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davidobitch ¡ 5 years ago
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If You Walk Away, You’ll Never Know - David Dobrik
(A/N: This is A LOT longer than I expected so i had to make it separate parts but I'm not hating it. I haven’t written anything in literally a year so IM SORRY if it’s bad. But enjoy!)
PART 1
You and David have been friends since freshman year of high school. Best friends to be exact. After graduation, you followed him to L.A. with Natalie and you’ve been living your best life ever since.
You never thought of David as anything other than your best friend but lately he’s been flirty and touchy and you’re starting to think otherwise. It’s not that he’s unattractive, but you cherished your friendship more than anything.
“Hello Earth to (y/n),” You hear David say from across the room, “Are you in or not?”
You hadn’t realized how much you zoned out while everyone was trying to plan a trip to Hawaii. 
“Sorry, sorry! I forgot I had to pay attention,” you joked, cracking a smile.
David fired back at you, “(y/n) you should always pay attention to me. How else am I supposed to live?” Everyone let out a small laugh and made jokes about David being dramatic. “Ok so now that everyone is actually paying attention. Hawaii. We leave late tonight, does everyone have their ticket?”
The room erupted with a chorus of yes’s only for you to remember you haven’t had a chance to buy yours yet.
You started to tell David that you forgot to buy yours but the conversation quickly moved on before you could get the sentence out.
“So we’ll get to Hawaii about 6am. And then I made dinner reservations at 7. So you guys are free to do whatever until dinner,”
“Or do WHOever” Todd quietly says in the back, causing everyone to scream with laughter.
You caught David glancing at you, only to make his cheeks heat up. You pushed the thought of being with him like that to the back of your head. Natalie shoots you a look as you start shifting in your seat. You shake your head at her, mentally telling her it’s nothing important.
David goes over last minute details about the flight and when to meet back at his house before everyone leaves. You leave Natalie and David alone to plan the trip while you finish packing. About an hour into gathering everything, your bedroom door opens and Natalie struts in.
“Okay. Spill,” she says, locking the door behind her. She settles into your bed waiting for you to talk. You raise your eyebrow, confused on what she wants you to talk about. “I saw you and Dave look at each other after Todd’s comment. Is there something I don’t know about?”
You let out a sigh, wanting to avoid this talk. Mainly because you didn’t have an answer for yourself. “No. Nothing is happening. I don’t know why he looked at me.” You said, semi-truthfully.
You were telling the truth. Nothing was happening. But you partly knew why he looked at you. It was no secret David had a baby crush on you. He’s had it since high school. But he never acted on his feelings.
“Okay, so then why did you look at him? Oh my god, (y/n), do you like-” Natalie started to say, rather loudly, before a knock on the door interrupted her.
You thanked all the gods above for the timing of this knock. You opened the door to David standing on the side wall. The inside of your chest warmed, enjoying how cute he looked. And then he opened his mouth.
“Wooooah what’s going on in here? 2 girls? Door Locked? Ooooo” You rolled your eyes while letting him in. David felt the tension in the room and looked back and forth between you and Nat. “Did I interrupt something?”
“No,” you said while Natalie said the complete opposite. A devilish grin was planted on her face, only throwing David off more than he already was.
“Ok well you two can finish whatever conversation you were having when I leave. But first. (y/n), your plane ticket.” David says while settling in on your bed.
“Yeah, I meant to talk to you about that. I haven’t been free to buy it but as soon as I’m done packing I’ll do that.”
“No, like, I bought it for you. I thought you knew. I told Natalie to tell you,”
Both of you turned your head to see Natalie dying of laughter, “I knew I was forgetting something” she says in between breaths. 
You shake your head, letting the two bicker at each other. Part of you was surprised that they haven’t had a thing for each other, considering they were friends long before you and David were. Not to mention they acted like they were a couple anyways.
Another 30 minutes goes by before Natalie leaves and it’s just you and Dave.
The two of you sat in comfortable silence before you remembered to thank him for the ticket. “You didn’t have to buy my ticket. I was gonna get to it eventually.”
“I know you were but let’s be honest...you procrastinate way too much and I know you weren’t gonna buy it until we had to leave,” you smiled at him, knowing he’s totally right, “Plus there’s no reason to go if you didn’t. So I had to make sure I had you there with me.”
Your heart fluttered with every word he spoke. It took everything in you not to jump on the bed and kiss him right there. But you pushed your feelings away again.
“The only reason you want me there is so I can be your assistant while Natalie is out being a normal human”. You retorted throwing your last bag on the floor next to your suitcase.
You joined David on the bed, laying your legs across his lap. Looking at the time, you saw it was only 9:30, which means there’s still 2 hours until everyone was gonna come back over to go to the airport.
“Let’s watch a movie or something,” David says as he grabs your remote and puts on the first thing he sees. Half way through the movie you end up falling asleep. You don’t know how long you were asleep for but when you woke up, the same movie was still on and you were laying on David’s chest. Still half asleep, you felt David’s hand in your hair. Not wanting him to know you were awake, you slowly turned your body so he had more space to play with your hair. He took his hand away as you turned, but quickly went back to playing with your hair as you settled. Minutes passed until David’s phone started ringing. Being able to see half the screen, you saw it was Zane facetiming, probably to tell Dave he was on his way over. After the second ring, he picks up, not wanting to disturb your sleep.
“Hey, what’s up?” David whispers.
“Why are you whispering? You sound like a creepy dude,” Zane yells through the screen. By the other voices in the background you can tell Heath, Todd, and Mariah were with him.
“(y/n)’s sleeping. I don’t want to wake her.” A chorus of aw and gagging noises filled the room. 
You continue to listen to the conversation, hoping something juicy would be said but all that was talked about was the trip and what time they’ll be at David’s.
After ending the call, you feel David playing with your hair again. “Hey, (y/n), you have to wake up,” He said quietly, moving the hair out of your face. You stayed “asleep”, wishing you could stay like this for the next week. David gently shook you, telling you again to wake up. Pretending like you weren’t awake for the last 30 minutes, you tilted your head up to look at David, not realizing how close you two were. You watched as David glanced at your lips, then back at you.
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you,” You say, gathering your thoughts and moving away from his body. “We should probably get everything ready.” Jumping off your bed, you grab your bags and walk out into the living room where Natalie was, now with Carly, Erin, and Matt.
“Well look who finally decided to come back out after 2 HOURS,” Natalie emphasizes, raising her eyebrows at you.
“Oh shut up. We were watching a movie,” You retort, rolling your eyes.
“Well, I was watching the movie. (Y/n) was sleeping,” You hear David say as he walks out behind you. A shiver runs down your spine as his hand gently brushes against your back.
After getting everything situated at the airport, there was still 15 minutes until boarding. Half the group was falling asleep in their seats and the other half was causing a scene, of course for the vlogs. You watched as Jeff and Jason fight over something stupid, making David have a giggle fit. The camera pans over to you, “So (y/n), you ready for this big trip,” David asks, licking his lips a little too slowly. Thoughts of you and him flooded your mind. You wanted to kick him for being so David. He was charming and goofy, you’ve never met someone so evil but so sweet at the same time. His intentions, no matter what the situation is, are pure. 
“I’m ready to sleep,” You say throwing your hoodie over your head only for it to be pulled off.
“You literally just slept at the house.”
Taking your hoodie back from him, you hid under it again just for him to pull it off...again.
“David!” you hiss, “Let me sleep for the next 4 minutes please.” Kicking him gently, David quietly laughs but doesn’t leave you alone.
“But who else is supposed to stay awake with me on this flight?” He questions, tossing the clothing item back at you. 
You shoot a look at him, “David. We both know, out of all of us, you’re going to be the first person to knock out.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. The most sleepy person out of the group, pretending like he’s going to be awake for longer than 40 minutes.
His mouth opens, as if he was going to say something but closed as they announced your flight was boarding.
You ended up sitting in between David and Jeff with Zane and Matt behind you.
Great. You thought to yourself. I’m definitely not getting any sleep.
111 notes ¡ View notes
romewritingshop ¡ 4 years ago
Text
Wake up Parker! - Chapter 6: Sleepless in Brooklyn
Relationship: Peter Parker x Tall Older Reader (Peter is 22 and Reader is 26/27)
Warnings: Disappointment
Word Count Total: 1241 (This Chapter)
Summary: Peter Parker is a student in the city of Brooklyn. He’s lazy, spoilt and he procrastinates a lot. He meets a woman named (Y/N), She’s recently moved to Brooklyn for an independent life. Something Peter is fascinated by. Over the course of a few months, Peter needs to realise that he has to grow up and become responsible for his life.
Tagged: @bggerbtch​
WAKE UP PARKER! MASTERLIST
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Sent @ 12.01 p.m.
Hi 'My First Brooklyn Friend '.
How are you, Mr. Photographer? I hope you’re great. I was remembering you today and so, here I am! Anyhow, here’s the news: Or here’s the tea? Is that how you say it? I don’t know. 
Yesterday, I went to the magazine office for my first interview today. Remember ‘Brooklyn Nights’. Pete, it was amazing! Some places have such a character that you immediately connect with them. Do you know that feeling? I felt like I belonged there. I had a meeting with the creative director, Steve Rogers.
It went off quite well actually. Steve was kind and caring. He’s also Head Photographer there. I remember you saying you liked the photographs in this magazine. If I get this job, you should come visit the office sometimes.
My final interview is in a few days, with the magazine editor, James Barnes. Keeping my fingers crossed, that goes well too!
That's it for now. 
(Y/N).
 Sent @ 13.21 p.m.
Hello 'New Girl in the City'.
Good to know that you had an interesting day. Because I’ve just had the worst days of my life! Mr. Stark’s office is a prison! The people around me come to work at the same time and leave at the same time.
I think they even sleep in the clothes they’re wearing! Don't they get bored? You're so lucky you're not stuck with a thousand pages of company history. The offices sound awesome and I’m sure you’ll do great in your interview with the editor.
Later,
Peter
 Sent @ 19.32 p.m.
Dear Pete, 
I'm sorry that you're not enjoying work. But I'm sure it'll get better. Just keep at it. Take me for instance. Remember how terrified I was when I first came to Brooklyn? I couldn't even take a walk by myself! And now I've been all over Brooklyn, Peter! I’ve been to museums, parks, cafes, the library! Everywhere! 
I wake up and walk out of Wanda’s apartment, without thinking about where I'm going or what I'm doing, just aimlessly walking. And the funny thing is that I don't feel scared anymore. In fact, these days, I feel like I'm finally free! Wanda looks at me like I’m crazy but she doesn’t get how I feel. And then ... last night.
It was fucking awful! I was sleeping calmly in the Wanda’s spare bedroom. Something crawled up my leg and sat on my stomach. I woke up and saw a huge fucking rat! What the fuck! It was like the size of a cat! It was awful. Wanda didn’t even know she had rats in her apartment. I can't live in her apartment anymore!
It's time I found a place of my own. I’ll let you know how that goes.
Till then.
(Y/N)
 Sent @ 8.21 a.m.
Dear (Y/N),
Wanda really gets the award for friend of the year! Honestly this is what happens when you hang out with Wanda Maximoff. At least you can continue your next step in independence which is living alone in a house. 
I asked Mrs. Stark and she recommended me a good estate agent:
212-555-6139 
That's the number for Peter Quill. The best agent in Brooklyn, apparently. Mrs. Stark recommended him, he’s the one who helped us find our house.
Also, it's time you got a phone so I could invite you to rocking parties! Brooklyn’s night life is just as exciting as the day! Let me know how house hunting goes. Your emails are the only best things to read in my days at the office. 
Take care,
Peter.
 Peter sent the last email and sluggishly packed his bag for the office. The party at Flash’s house was off the hook. The hangover was unbearable. Peter rubbed his head and reminded himself to wait till Friday to get drunk. Michelle phoned him to remind him to go to work. He swung his bag over his shoulder and got a cab to work. He dragged his feet into the lift and took the long slow ride to the floor. A few minutes later he got to his desk and dropped his bag beside him. Resting his head on his forearm.
“Peter! Wake up.” He sat up to see Mr. Stark and Mr. Hogan besides his desk. Mr. Stark was looking much more lively and fresher than Peter, in a dark suit and colourful tie. Mr. Hogan looked disappointed with Peter. “Peter. It's Wednesday. I'll see you in my office in half an hour. Get up. Also clean your face before you come in.”
Mr. Stark disappeared into his office, followed by Happy. Peter felt a little distraught as he checked the calendar on his phone. There was a reminder for Peter to read the big stack of documents. He glanced to the left side of his desk to see the huge stack of history. Peter was royally screwed. He could try bullshit and say he wants to work in creative or the marketing department. However, he knew that Tony would ask him so many questions, just to catch Peter out. A soft ping rang on his email and Peter knew it would be (Y/N)’s email.
 Sent @ 9.59 a.m.
Dear Peter,
Thank you so much for Peter Quill’s number. You're a saviour! Some of the apartment ads were annoying and misleading so this number really helped. Peter recommended some really nice apartments. I'm going to look at some today.
Wish me luck.
(Y/N)
 Peter leaned back on his chair. (Y/N)’s looking at apartments and Peter’s about to enter Hell. He glanced at his screensaver of the car. She was a beauty. He really enjoyed (Y/N)’s company and he wanted to be there when she was looking at apartments. It sounded so much more fun than what Peter was about to do. Then Peter had a thought.
Tony stepped out of his office and straightened his blazer. Hopefully Peter’s gained some life experience in his week-long reading. He was followed by Bruce Banner. He was one of the engineers for the new security AI. Still needed a name for that alarm. Bruce informed Tony that they were close to completion and could go for a test trial soon. 
“Sounds good Banner. We can run the trial at my house. I can install the software and test it.”
“What if it short circuits and causes a power outage?”
“That’s the whole point of the trial. We can check for bugs and glitches and fix them before the product screening next month. Banner, you’ve done an amazing job and I trust your hands. We can talk more of this later. Right now I’ve got a meeting with my son, Peter.”
Bruce gave a nod and stalked away into the elevator. Tony strolled to Peter’s cubicle, announcing.
“Alright Peter, let's go …” He noticed that Peter’s cubicle was empty, save for a small post - it note which read: 
 Sorry Mr. Stark,
Something came up. Can we postpone, for tomorrow?
Peter
  Tony sighed and scrunched up the small yellow paper. Peter threw a curveball at him and Tony felt like an idiot for believing that Peter would do the work, let alone stay more than a week. Tony went into his office and began taking a look at the sales pitch the marketing team came up with for the product launch next month.
CHAPTER SEVEN: THIS IS THE ONE!
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iwillgiveyoumyhappiness ¡ 5 years ago
Text
임창균, Im Changkyun
lostmyshame  asked:
Your Changkyun scenarios are so freaking cute! This boy is wrecking my life currently. May I request another one about him where he and the reader have been friends for few years and both were attracted to each other but too scared to ruin their friendship? And then on one rainy day their emotions take over? The literal physical need for each other, the desire to possess and belong, the fear of losing the most precious, all no longer concealable. Thank you ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶
Group: Monsta X (몬스타엑스)
Member: I.M.
(A/N): Read with this album by Paper Planet
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“Stop it,” she whispered into the dimly lit room, breaking a heavy silence that had taken over the usually very comfortable space of her living room. Her autumn-breeze breath fanned across hot cheeks, luckily hidden by the shadows cast by the rain drops dribbling down the windowpane. 
The skin that was so frightfully close to her own belonged to her friend—Im Changkyun. He hovered over her, a blurred silhouette before her eyes. He had two choices, as far as she saw it. 
Stay where he was and move no further, or back away before he did something he’d regret. 
They were friends, and that’s where their string of fate ended. 
At least, that’s what they would like it say. They would love it, of course, but simplicity is a luxury. One that their friendship was not blessed with. Their strings of fate were complicated and twisted, a baffling cipher of questions.
There were lines in a healthy friendship; ones that weren’t generally crossed. They thought they’d done a good enough job of that. Those lines were tempting and beguiling. They’d come to the very brink of them, but they’d never crossed them before.
There was the time their fingers brushed while walking, but instead of pulling away, they let it just keep happening. There were gazes that lingered for longer than they should have, hugs that lasted a second too long and moments where they would deny vehemently that they had any interest towards each other yet they would still be jealous if someone else got too close.
Despite how close they’d gotten before, they’d never stepped over that invisible barrier. But here he was... Two and a half steps closer to the personal bubble than was considered ‘friendly’.
He scanned her face, his eyes boring into her own. “What if I don’t want to stop?” he asked, voice equally as quiet. The whole scenario felt somewhat intimate. “What if I want to go farther? Reckless abandon, and all that crap.” 
She couldn’t find it within herself to answer—not yet, at least. Her mouth was dry and the room was spinning and it was hard for her to remember how they had gotten into this position in the first place.
She remembered the day they first met like it was yesterday, yet she couldn’t remember the events of a few hours ago, leading up to this moment. Maybe because it was so sudden, the way he’d pinned her to the couch.
Though, the way they’d first met was pretty sudden, too—quite literally bumping into each other at the super market. She supposed it suited their relationship well. Random, unpredictable, always running forward at a dizzying pace. 
It was never boring, she could say that much. 
Though, the days where thing were ‘boring’ between them happened to be her favorite days. Him working in the studio late at night, her crashing on the couch for no other reason than to keep him company and give her opinion on newer tracks, empty energy-drink cans and bowls of ramen scattered around haphazardly. 
Those were the best.
A day—somewhat like that scene—was the reason for the current situation.
.
.
.
Maybe it was the way that she had sounded just a little bit off in her texts, or maybe it was the lack of emotion when he called her to ask about her day, but for whatever reason, Changkyun was on his way to her flat, rain splattering furiously onto his clear umbrella. 
He had a plastic bag filled to the brim with her favorite snacks, a couple movies she’d been dying to see and a new mug to replace the one he’d broken two weeks ago.
It was the least he could do.
He folded the umbrella, leaning it against the wall next to her door. With a rhythmic rap of his knuckles, one tailor-made just for the two of them, she came to the door, not even bothering to ask who it was. 
She already knew.
She looked exhausted—bags under her eyes and clothes disheveled more than usual. She gave a small, tired smile. “Hey, Kyun,” she said. “How are you?”  
His first instinct was the drop the bag and rush to her; give her the biggest, tightest hug. But that would be weird, wouldn’t it? There were boundaries to be respected, even in a close friendship.
“Better than you, it seems,” he said with a huff, blowing his too-long bangs away from his face. He scanned her face, concern knitting his eyebrows together. “Are you okay?” he asked. 
She shrugged, still smiling. “Not really,” she said, knowing fully well that she wouldn’t be able to hide it from him. “But it’s fine,” she continued. “I’m alive, and that’s what counts.”
“Did something happen?” he asked. She stepped aside, gesturing for him to come into the medium-sized apartment. “You look like crap.” 
She snorted. “Thanks, dude,” she said. She closed the door behind them. “Nah, nothing in particular,” she answered. “Today’s just a melancholy day. It happens sometimes.” 
Changkyun nodded understandingly, dumping the contents of his plastic bag onto the couch—save for the mug, which he pulled out before hand. He didn’t need to have her nagging him about another one.
“I get it,” he said calmly. He held out the mug, shaped like a cute sloth that said ‘Soon-ish’ on it, as she was a master-procrastinator. He’d always teased her for that. Whether it be a work assignment or something for college, she always waited until the last second to get it done. “Hopefully all of this stuff’ll help.” 
Her eyes lit up a little, a familiar light glittering in them. “You got a new one!” she gasped, snatching it from his hands. “And it’s even cuter than my old one!”
He shrugged and sniffed proudly. “What can I say? I have good taste.”
She rolled her eyes. “Screw you,” she said. 
“Hey! I brought snacks and movies!” he defended himself, crossing his arms. “By the laws of friendship, you can’t say ‘screw you’ to me if I do something nice for you!”
She scoffed. “And what rule is that, your majesty?” she asked incredulously.
“The one I made up just now, stupid,” he chuckled, flicking her forehead lightly.  
She smacked his hand away, laughing a little. “Quit it!” she said. She hugged the sloth mug protectively to her chest. “You’re not breaking another one.” 
Changkyun rolled his eyes. “You know that was an accident!” he groaned. He wasn’t really irritated. In fact, he felt a warm fuzziness creeping into his chest seeing her chuckle at his saltiness. He felt that way towards her whenever he saw her in this light—the one where he was the one making her smile and laugh. 
It felt good and right. Just... 
Lovely. 
That was a word that often sprung to his mind when he thought of her. But the word that would come straight after was always ‘friend’, so that would always snap him out of his thoughts and remind him to watch himself. 
Remind himself not to lose control. 
He shook his head a little, trying to clear his thoughts. “Do you wanna watch a movie and drink hot chocolate with me, or not?” he asked. 
She tilted her head like she was taking it into serious consideration. “Did you bring—?” she started.
“Cinnamon to go on top?” Changkyun interrupted. “Yes. Yes, I did, you weirdo.” 
She stomped her foot playfully. “It’s not weird, it’s tasty!” she defended herself. “You’d understand if you bothered to try it.” 
He snatched the mug from her, taking it into the kitchen. Sure, the feeling of their fingers briefly touching made his heart jump, but he could ignore it. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he said. “Just go set up the movie; I’ll make the cocoa.” 
That was how it should be. 
Because they were friends. 
.
.
.
She hoped that there wasn’t too much relief in her eyes when he showed up at her door. That’d be too obvious.
Honestly though, he was just what she needed on a sad-for-no-reason day, because he was her makes-me-happy-for-no-reason person. 
Everything from his dumb tracksuit with the bracelet on top of the sleeves, the messy hair that was flopping into his eyes and the resting bitch-face. 
Already, her heart felt a little, but she was just praying that he didn’t read into that too deeply. 
It didn’t help that he brought snacks and gifts. How dare he be this way? Knowing her so well, and whatnot. It was infuriating how easy he made it to love him. 
Her eyes kept wandering to his mess of hair, feeling the overwhelming need to run her fingers through it, but alas, she didn’t, 'cause that’d be weird.
When she greeted him with a quick hug, she couldn’t stop herself from caressing the hairs at the back of his neck, hoping that it wasn’t too noticeable. 
She barely took in everything he was saying, and she was beyond grateful when he changed the subject, making it easier for her to calm down and get sucked into the film. If she payed attention hard enough, maybe Chagkyun’s presence wouldn’t affect her so badly. 
Maybe she could feel the comfort, minus the stifling nervousness.  
.
.
.
‘Stop staring at her,’ Changkyun kept telling himself. 
They were watching a horror movie together—one she’d been begging to see since it came out—and her eyes were fixed intently on the screen. The jumps scares didn’t freak her out, she just nodded along like, “Oh, I see. So that’s how it fits into the plot”, all the while, shoveling popcorn into her mouth.
All-in-all, not the most attractive scene, but still. His heart said, ‘Well gosh, that’s endearing’, and it was kind of pissing him off.
She gasped for the first time since the movie started, but it wasn’t because she was scared. It was because an ‘illuminating’ plot-point had just been revealed that the main character’s sister was actually his wife that’d been dead for twenty years, and she’d just been turned into a vampire and aging backwards, and—...it was a really dumb movie.
But the point was, she was enjoying it on a bad day, so that was all that mattered. He’d come to terms in his mind that he probably had a crush on her, but his pride (and fear) stopped him from making a definitive move.
He remembered watching a movie some time ago, before he’d met her. One of the quotes from it was: “A man can’t be just friends with a beautiful woman”. He remembered scoffing at that line, just because he thought it was ridiculous.
At first, he wondered why it was limited to ‘a beautiful woman’, but after meeting her and gradually liking her more and more, it dawned on him. 
‘A beautiful woman’ doesn’t apply to what society thinks at all. It applies to you and your own thoughts, because the person you love automatically looks beautiful. 
He’d found that out the hard way when they’d gotten off a rollercoaster together and she looked slightly dazed, majorly blissed-out, and her hair was tousled and tangled.
He’d spent about 30 minutes finger-brushing the tangles out, and to anyone that asked, he’d tell them that it was the most irritating, meticulous thing he’s ever had to do, but what was on the inside?
That truth was a different story. 
On the inside, that was the exact pin-pointed moment that he fell for her. Most people couldn’t tell you when they fell in love, but he definitely could. At least, when he realized it. 
It was that third Sunday in June when they were standing under that tree in the amusement park to avoid the sun while he untangled her hair with his skilled fingers. Despite the effort to avoid the rays, some still managed to stream in through the leaves, and it highlighted her in the most beautiful way. 
Her eyes looked more glittery than usual, her tangled hair had a shine to it and he could individually count each of her eyelashes. 
When he realized he couldn’t breathe in that moment, he admitted to himself that he probably had a crush on her, despite how much he’d like to prove that dumb movie wrong. 
��Kyun,” he heard, drawing him out of his thoughts. “Kyun!” She smacked his shoulder. “Did you see that ending?” she asked, eyes wide with surprise. “That was such a twist! I didn’t expect it at all!” 
He chuckled and shook his head, rubbing his shoulder. She had a bit of trouble controlling the strength of her hits. “What’s with you and loving low-quality films?” he asked. 
She shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “Maybe my palate isn’t refined enough, or maybe I don’t need things to be perfect to enjoy them.” She smiled. “There can be a lot of plot flaws, and the acting may not be the best, but the point is, it was made for entertainment. And it entertains me,” she finished, plopping a piece of popcorn into her mouth. 
He felt his heart pounding again, just because she was talking about something she liked. How annoying and stupid.
“Can you stop that?” he asked quietly.
She furrowed her brows. “Stop what?”
“Stop looking so kissable,” he said. 
Her eyes widened, and he could’ve sworn he saw her cheeks light up, too. “What’re you talking about?” she stuttered out. 
He moved a little closer, she moved a little farther. Finally, he grabbed her wrists, keeping her in place. “Do you like me?” he asked seriously, gathering all the courage that he was pretty sure he didn’t actually have.
He probably bluffed himself into bravery. 
She choked. “What—?”
He wasn’t quite sure how they ended up with him on top of her, pinning her down to the couch and pressing kisses to the corner of her lips while the rain pattered against the window, but he couldn’t really complain. 
If anything, the bundle of nervous energy in his stomach pushed him forward. He tried to read her expression. It looked like there were a million thought going on, running a mile a minute.
He leaned down farther, just to get a better look into her eyes.
“Stop it,” she whispered into the dimly lit room, breaking a heavy silence that had taken over the usually very comfortable space of her living room.
.
.
.
Ah. 
So, that’s how they got there.
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“I’ll ask you again,” Changkyun said, interrupting her thoughts. His eyes looked almost desperate, in a way. Desperate for an answer, or something of the sort. “What happens if I don’t wanna stop here?”
She swallowed the lump in her throat, taking a deep breath through her nose. “Then I would say you should be more considerate,” she said firmly. “Think about how I feel in this situation.” 
“Turned on?” he offered. 
She smacked his side, making him flinch. “Don’t treat this like a joke!” she chided. “Can you be serious for one second?” 
“I am being serious!” he assured her, his grip tightening around her wrists. “Am I not sounding sincere enough for you? Do I have to be more forward—more clear? Well, guess what!” he said. He stared her dead in the eyes. “I know,” he spoke cryptically.  
She glared at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I know you like me like I like you,” he said simply. He wasn’t cocky about it. More matter-of-fact than anything else. 
She rolled her eyes, scoffing a little. “Don’t be an idiot—” she started. 
“Why haven’t you pulled away yet?” Changkyun cut in. She froze, no words leaving her half-open mouth. “I know better than anyone else; you hate being physically suffocated, so clearly... You don’t feel suffocated by me.” 
She swallowed thickly. “What’re you getting at?” she asked, trying to steadily meet his burning and heavy gaze. 
He tilted his head a little, almost like a shrug. “Maybe I help you breathe easier,” he said. “Maybe you trust me to be this close to you. Closer than anyone else ever has.” 
She frowned, looking off to the side. “You’re my friend,” she said. “One of my best friends—if not the best. I should hope I feel comfortable around you.” 
He huffed out a breath, the mint flavor on his tongue fanning out over her face. “Do you have something going on mentally, or do I just have to say it first for you to accept it?” he asked. 
She furrowed her brows. “What’re you talking about—?”
“I love you,” he interrupted, his eyes swimming with emotion and desperate. “I love you so much.” 
Her breath caught in her throat. Changkyun wasn’t one for cheesiness like this. In fact, he tended to avoid it at all costs. 
It felt strange. 
Different.
Not unwanted. 
“You are...” It looked like he was struggling to find the right words, which was odd for such a talented lyricist. He sighed. “My best friend, for one,” he said. With a small internal struggle, he met her eyes. “But you’re also a hell of a lot more than that. You’re one of the most unique things I’ve ever felt in my life. You’re like a goddamn emotional rollercoaster.”
He chuckled. “I don’t know when I started feeling this way for you. It was just all of a sudden,” he explained in a quiet voice. “Maybe it was ‘cause we kept touching hands on the subway—just on accident. Maybe it was ‘cause you started giving me goosebumps when you laughed because of something I said. Maybe it was ‘cause I gave you that piggyback-ride when you sprained your ankle and you whispered ‘thanks’ in my ear.”
His brows furrowed quizzically. “Or maybe it was ‘cause you’re the only person I’ve ever known that’s gotten me to fully enjoy a Disney movie. At any rate, it’s an impressive feat.” 
His grip on her wrists loosened up. “You piss me off more than anyone I know and I wanna strangle you 75% of the time, but at the same time, I know that I could never stay angry at you for too long.” Gently, he slipped a hand behind her back, pulling her up into a sitting position with him. 
It confused her how soft he was suddenly being, moving a socially acceptable distance away from her and letting her have some breathing room. He kept his hands to himself, folding them politely in his lap and sitting with his back straight. It was like he was meeting her parents, which was a strange thought in the first place.
“I feel like you can heal me when I’m the most screwed up I've ever been, and I know for a fact that you’ve got my back through thick and thin. You are my intense wave of happiness everyday, and sometimes, I’m a real jerk to you, just because you make me nervous. Despite how much I freak out ‘cause of you, you also calm me down better than anyone else,” he said with a deep breath. 
He played with his fingers before folding his hands neatly again. “I wanna be there for you, too,” he said, swallowing a visible lump in his throat. Despite how obviously wrecked he was inside, he never broke eye-contact. “But I’m really scared to do that without letting you know how I feel right now, ‘cause I feel like I’ll seriously mess up one day if I keep it to myself. Like I’ll push myself on you when you don’t want me.” 
She pulled her knees to her chest slowly, eyebrows furrowed in hesitant concentration. “And why is that?” she asked, the first words out of her mouth in quite some time. Her voice sounded almost hoarse. 
His tongue darted out to wet his chapped lips. “Because I think you’re beautiful,” he said, making her heart skip a beat or two. “And incredibly sexy,” he added with a shrug. “That’s not very... Best-friendsy, now is it?” 
She let out a small laugh, even though her head was spinning. As expected of Changkyun. Only he could make her laugh in a situation like this. 
So many thoughts ran through her mind. Half of it was wondering why he was suddenly so open and emotional, but the other half was questioning her own emotions. Her pride. 
There was a certain level of not wanting to give in—not wanting to break the promise she’d made to herself when she’d first realized her feelings for him. She had assured herself vehemently, “There are other people out there. It isn’t just Changkyun. You shouldn’t be so captured by him”. 
Yet even after all that convincing, he was still the only one she could see. 
The whole world passed her by in a fit of shifting glory every single day, but it still paled in comparison to him. In a way, the idea of getting lost without a compass to guide her was less scary than getting a step closer to him.
They say: “The higher you are, the farther you have to fall”. The feeling of knowing that Changkyun felt the same about her put her on top of the world, and isn’t that about as high as one could go?
With that thought in mind, it was terrifying to imagine, “What if it doesn’t last?” They say that about first loves—that they never last. They’re enjoyable, nerve-wrecking, a learning experience, and they teach a heart how to feel. 
Really feel, that is.
But what if one day, that feeling faded, and they were left with nothing but a wilting memory of each other? Would she be able to stand that?
She searched his eyes, raking over the dark orbs that she’d become so familiar with. She could read those eyes. She could tell when he was being sincere, and this was definitely one of those times.
So what if it hurt a little bit in the end? 
They would be each other’s hurt. Maybe she could set aside her pride for his love—for his pain. Nothing is set in stone, happiness and sadness alike.
“No, I guess it’s not,” she said, clearing her throat. “I guess we’re not best friends anymore.” 
Fear lit in his gaze, like a question of what he said wrong. 
“We’ll just have to date, then,” she said, scooting forward a little, just enough so that their knees lightly touched. “‘Cause for whatever reason, I’m not willing to let your ass out of my sight.”
.
.
.
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Let us pray for non-crappiness. 🙏 
Thank you so much for requesting this, @lostmyshame​! I had an absolute blast writing it, and I hope that you enjoyed reading it. I honestly haven’t been writing very much recently, ‘cause life has been busy, so I’m trying to get back into the groove of things. I hope this wasn’t too disappointing, considering it was kind of my ‘practice round’. 
Stop by anytime—it was a pleasure having ya!
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queeniewritesce ¡ 5 years ago
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Recommendations (2/2)
This is part 2 of my entry for the @mrs-captain-evans 2,5K followers Writing Challenge. 
Summary: Twitter is a strange place. But once in a while, you connect with someone.
Word count: 2,484
Warning: mild language, 35 seconds of angst, could be less if you read it fast.
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The heavy double-paned door opened with a jingle and a creak, letting the cool air from late November enter the small café on Arrow Street. You didn’t bother looking up from your laptop, where you read an article about penguins instead of finishing grading yesterday’s pop quiz.
Procrastinating was your new favorite pastime since decreasing your online presence. Not that it stopped the ache you still felt every time you opened Twitter to post a new article, which was the only content you shared nowadays. Gone were the jokes geared towards your students, pictures of Captain Hook, or commenting on the everyday shenanigans of the White House and Congress.
The less you shared, the less you cared, and the only reason your profile was still up was because of your job.
You checked the time on the bottom left of the screen. Professor Kincaid’s class had been canceled and you had one hour to kill before your own class started, which prompted you to run to Bean There for a fresh pot of coffee and one huge Boston Cream doughnut.
As you read about penguins kidnapping other chicks if they own young died, you got wind of the murmurs and rushed voices going on around the room.  You tried to tune them out, young people got excited about anything but they seemed to get louder and louder with every passing moment. You located your bag seating by your feet and was looking for your headphones when a pair of black boot cladded feet stopped in front of you.
Pursuing your lips, you let the ears buds fall back inside the pocket but didn’t bother to look up. If your assumptions were correct, the owner of those boots was the cause for the raucous around you.
“Y/N…”
Yep, the voice and the boots belonged to the same person.
Tears made your eyes sting and you blinked to prevent them from falling. You minutely shook your head, not knowing exactly what you’re trying to convey; that this was not the place or that you’re not, would never be, ready to talk to him.
“Please. Can we talk?”
The hurt in his voice gave you pause. Why would Chris feel anything but pride at playing you as he did? Did he want to do a coup de grâce to your ego?
Keeping your eyes downcast, you lowered the screen of your laptop, glad you hadn’t bothered with the power strip. Shifting the electronic around you other stuff took more time than intended but after a few tries, you zippered up your bag, grabbing some money out of your wallet and dropping it on the table.
You got up and your nose pressed against the most muscular chest you ever saw. He was so well built that you could see the hard contours of his pecs through the thick cream sweater he was wearing. The smell of his cologne hit your nostrils and you almost swoon, finally looking up.
He shouldn’t be allowed the whole package, that was so unfair to you.
Deep blue eyes framed by thick eyelashes stared back at you, the lower half of his face covered in fine auburn whiskers that couldn’t be more than two weeks old at the most, looking so soft that you had to restrain yourself from reaching out and running the tips of your fingers through them.
“All I am asking is for a chance to explain myself.” Strong fingers reached for you, encasing your small hand in his as if he really wanted you to stay. You scoffed at the notion, this man really knew how to play you. Did he get off in toying with you?
Your scared eyes looked from his eyes to your clasped hands and back again, silently begging him to let you go. He mouthed a soundless no and stepped towards you, bridging the already small gap between your bodies.
Later, if someone asked you why you did it, you would blame your next course of action on the overwhelming need to escape.
“Look, everyone, it’s Chris Evans.”
Chris’s eyes widened and a different kind of hurt clouded his vision. Betrayal. He let your hand go.
Good. Maybe know he would understand exactly how you felt.
A round of applause broke out around the cafĂŠ and the whispers were now cheers. The discretely held cellphones now pointed straight at the man in front of you.
Move, get out. Your feet took their sweet time obeying your brain, but soon you’re grabbing your coat and your messenger bag and making a beeline to the door, not bothering with actually putting on your coat before the full brunt of Boston’s late autumn slammed into you. You powered through, running through the streets that led you to your office, not once looking back, certain Chris would not follow.
Entering the gray building that housed Media Studies and Social Analyses, you allowed yourself to slow down and take a breath. Safe.
The lights stayed off when you entered your office, the loaded mahogany bookcases and dark upholstery making the room more ominous than it truly was.
You let your bag slide to the floor near your desk, not really bothering with damaging the electronics inside.
Heavy feet carried you to the sofa under the balcony window, where you sat with unfocused eyes, mind running a mile a minute trying to understand how your life became a drama movie in just a few short months.
What was Chris doing here? You thought you made your feelings clear when you blocked him. The pain ebbed away after a few weeks, diluted to an ache that accompanied you day and night. For a fleet moment, you had entertained the idea of a relationship with Chris. Not Evans. Just Chris, the wholesome and funny guy you got to know during those four months you spent trading messages with. But that guy didn’t exist, he was just a persona, one more character created and well played by Chris Evans. Right?
There was a knock and whoever was outside didn’t wait for an answer before your door was pushed open.
Professor Travis stuck his head inside your office, a scowl on his face.
“If I hear one more student going off about the Oscar worthy drama on the media department I’ll flunk them and fire you, we’re not a telenovela. Fix whatever this is or convince him to stay away, I got your next class covered.”
He pushed Chris inside the dimly lighted room, raised his eyes brows pointedly at you and left, the door closing firmly behind him.
Silence stretched around you, uncomfortable and unnerving.
His hands stayed on his pockets, heavy coat looped around one arm while Chris took inventory of his surroundings before focusing on you, his gaze never wavering.
“Can I sit?”
You didn’t expect the croaked voice, nor the way it warped around your heart.
Two fingers pointed to the chairs on the other side of the center table. A safe distance, an actual barrier between you.
Of course, he decided to sidestep the table and sat opposite you on the love seat, his knee almost touching yours.
“What you did back there was treacherous and mean.” He faced forward, fingers drumming on his knees. “I guess I deserved it.”
“You did.”
“I never thought those would be the first words I’d hear you say direct to me.”
You cocked your head, not sure what to say to that.
“I mean, I thought about our first meeting, how you would be surprised but also happy I wasn’t a serial killer, just a dumb actor with too much free time on his hand.” He let a dark chuckle. “I never expected you to out me to a room filled with twenty-somethings years old and run away.”
What did he mean by thought about you? You admittedly had mulled over the idea more than once, wondering if you would click on the real world as much as you did online. Even created a list of topics you could revisit from your online conversation, mixed with silly questions you’d never asked him, like blueberry or chocolate chips on your pancakes? Could this man, so famous he couldn’t even walk into a coffee shop without being recognized, also be so committed to the idea of meeting you?
No matter. He still deceived you.
“I asked you once if you were catfishing me. You said no.”
Chris whole body faced you and he trained his eyes on you.
“I wasn’t. I looked up what that word means. I don’t fit any of those boxes. I’m not in it to hurt you. I never said I was someone else. I just never told you my last name.”
“Or who you actually were.”
He huffed.
“See, that’s where you’re wrong. I shared with you exactly who I was. Am. My opinions, my true likes and dislikes. I didn’t sugarcoat it or played dumb, I didn’t hide behind a forced laughed or a sound bite. You got Chris, the whole unadulterated version.” His expression hardened. “It’s not easy to open up like that when people expect you to be a certain way, act another way. Since you teach about expectations and the effects mass media has on other people, I believed you’d understand why I had to hide behind a pseudonym.”
It was not the first time you wondered what was like on the other side of the fishing lenses celebrities were under. You taught the basics of how media twisted and organized exactly how the public perceived being famous, asking your students to always remember no matter how famous someone was, there were first and foremost a human being.
“I understand why you did it, that doesn’t change the fact that you lied to me.”
“I never lied to you.” Chris rebuffed.
“You told me you were a flight attendant and you worked for Delta.”
“No, I didn’t. You assumed all that, I just never corrected you.”
“I…”
He was right.
You remembered all the times he changed the subject when you discussed his work and you honestly believed he was embarrassed about his job. You never asked what he did, or what he was doing in Atlanta for so long.
You felt the hot flashes of embarrassment creeping up your face and you hung your head low. Were you really so obtuse?
“I’m sorry.” A staggered breath left you. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask and assumed.”
“I have my own share of the guilty Y/N. I wanted to tell you, I wrote hundreds of messages but I could never send them. I was terrified you wouldn’t believe me before I could send you proof. And then I told you my name and it got comfortable, I wasn’t lying, just leaving out some stuff.”
“A lie of omission is still a lie in my book.” The serious tone of your voice washed over Chris and he winced.
“I got that when you blocked me.”
Once again the room was quiet save from the filtered shuffling of feet coming from the corridor.
As a true scholar, you analyzed all the information he gave you, looking for strong points and flaws on his reasoning. It all checked out. You wouldn’t have believed him. He never outright lied to you. 
There was only one question left unanswered.
“Why are you here Chris?”
His smile warmed you, made you want things that you shouldn’t. Images fleeted through your head, other times when he could smile to you like exactly like he was doing now.
“I’m here because I spent all summer and most of autumn inside a hot as hell costume, my hair dyed blonde, stuck inside a hangar filled with fake debris and green screens, and the only thing that kept me sane was that when I was on my breaks or done for the day I would open Twitter to a new message from you. I’m here because you were my island of calm while I drifted with anxiety.” Two fingers slid under your chin and he gently made you look at him. “I’m here because I like you.”
“You like me?” You repeated and he nodded. 
“I do. You’re funny, wicked smart but you don’t take yourself too seriously unless you have too. You admitted to being a nerd, which if I didn’t make myself clear during the whole Hubble debacle, so am I.” He pointed to black baseball hat he was wearing and you saw the NASA logo. “On a shallower note, you’re way, way more beautiful than all my previous teachers combined. If all professors look like you, I might even give this whole college thing a try.”
Well, wasn’t he a smooth talker. Your smile now matched his. 
“So do you like me like me or like me as in she’s okay?”
“Baby, you’re so far removed from okay, it might need a visa to visit you.”
The room filled with your laugh, your heart finally free of the hurt you carried the past few weeks.
He liked you.
“You’re not a nice guy.”
His smirk told you he knew exactly was this was going.
“I’m kind of an asshole.”
“I’m not denying that one.” He pouted and you wanted to kiss him. “So, not a nice a guy but not a complete asshole, so not a bad guy either.”
He got closer, his fingers playing with a loose tendril of your hair, the other hand fastening on your waist.
“That considerably narrows down your options, uh?”
His smile was contagious and you grinned back, shyly nuzzling his chest.
“How about you? You know, if you’re still interested.” You beamed at the man in front of you, bitting your lower lip.
“Let me show you how interested I am.”
The words were barely out of his mouth when his lips descended upon yours. He poured himself into the kiss, months of wanting you, feeling close but so far away. He fell for you during those late nights you stayed up texting, giving his heart and mind and receiving yours in return. He kissed you gently, slowly coaxing your mouth open, his tongue brushing yours.
He trailed his hands up your back to bring you closer and you shivered, settling contently against his chest, your fingers making their own journey to the back of his neck, brushing your hands on the hair there.
“How about that date?” Chris said against your mouth. “Let me take you out to dinner.”
“How about I cook for you instead? My house, 8pm?”
“I’ll be there.”
Disentangling yourself from his arms, you grabbed a notebook from your coffee table, writing down your address and handing it to Chris, kissing him on the cheek.
“Now go before Professor Travis forgets how much he likes us and I lose my job.”
You moved from the sofa, putting some space between both of you. You grab your bag, checking to see if your syllabus for the next class is still there.
“Y/N?”
“Uhm?” You’re sure he’s gonna kiss you again when he comes closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.
“One thing though.”
“What?”
The feel of his breath when he speaks so close to you gave you goosebumps. You’re ready, so ready to be kissed again.
“You gotta unblock me on Twitter. I only ever want one person to block me and believe me, you’re not him.”
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ronyxfic ¡ 5 years ago
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Educating the Victim - Act VI, Chapter XXIV
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Pairing: Yellow Pearl/Yellow Diamond, Rose Quartz/Pearl, Rose/Greg
Rating: Mature
Warnings/Tags: none for this chapter
CHAPTER 23: Stir Crazy
  In the middle of the night, Aurora’s phone rang.
It did so silently, without even the vibrations, the light barely enough to wake up anyone.
In due time, it stopped. Then, a few minutes later, it rung again. Again, to no avail.
Finally, a text.
Aurora, this is Azure. Marigold is in hospital. Please call me when you get this.
 Aurora awoke around half six that morning, and turned to face her phone. She noticed the text and glanced at the message overlayed on her lock screen.
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Her throat seized, a deep, uncomfortable pit evolving in her belly. It took her a few reads to process before she picked up the phone and rang the number it had come from, her hand trembling.
 The line clicked.
"Aurora?" Azure's voice on the other side sounded like she had been crying.
 "Hey. It's been a while." Aurora heard her own voice crack, unable to control it. She felt as if her body were five feet away from her consciousness. Her phone barely registered in her hand.
Throat dry, she wasn't entirely sure what to even say. "I. I got your text."
 "Oh. Yeah." Azure swallowed. "Yeah. Marigold and Rose are both in hospital. I'm waiting to hear what actually happened... as far as I'm aware, they're both okay. I mean, going to be okay. But still..." She fell silent.
 Aurora consciously knew she should've breathed a sigh of relief, but the anxiety didn't leave. "I see. I'm glad to hear that they're... safe, at least. I didn't expect something to happen this soon..."
 "Me neither." Azure sighed. "I just... I wanted you to know. I know you and Marigold are close, and I felt you'd want to know of any developments. I'm sorry you had to wake up to this."
 "No, I'm glad. I'm glad told me. Thank you." Aurora still felt disassociated, her head spinning. "Are you alright?"
 "I'll be alright once they are home safe." Azure's voice hardened a little. "Are you? If you need any emotional support, I can let Blue know to look after you."
 "No, I know she's very busy these days." Aurora sighed, "I just want to hear Marigold's voice right now more than anything."
 “...I understand.” Azure sighed. “You can feel free to call her, though I don’t know if she’ll be awake or able to answer your call. She hasn’t answered mine, though that could be for a number of reasons.”
 Aurora slumped at this. "Oh. I see. I suppose I'll just have to wait. You'll keep me updated, won't you?"
 “Of course, Aurora. Are you doing okay... apart from all this?”
 "Yeah, yeah. Missing Marigold, but... yeah, I'm alright."
 “That’s good to hear. I’m sorry, again, for making you wake up to this.” Azure sighed again. “I’ll call you if there’s any developments.”
 "Alright, thank you. I hope you have a good day."
 “You too.”
And with that, Azure hung up.
 Aurora felt her cheeks become wet, and took a hitched breath as she placed her phone away. It was going to be a long day.
 It wasn’t until much later, less than an hour had passed, that Aurora’s phone rang again.
Marigold.
 Aurora had been watching a makeup tutorial video on how to cover up a blotchy red face when she felt the phone in her hand vibrate. The second she saw the name, she swiped.
She swiped the wrong way and hung up as her fingers twitched. "Fuck!"
 Marigold, thousands of miles away, stared at the phone. Had Aurora just hung up on her?
She couldn't bring herself to call again immediately.
 And so, Aurora did. "Come on, come on..." She nervously found her call log and returned the phone call.
 "Oh!" Marigold uttered a sound of surprise, and answered the phone. "Hello? Aurora?"
 "Marigold! Oh, God, your voice! Are you okay?"
 "Oh, Rori. You already heard?"
 "Azure messaged me. You should call her, too, if you haven't already. She sounded rough."
 Marigold fell silent for a long moment.
"I... don't know if I want to do that yet."
 "Oh. Well. What... what happened?"
 Again, silence. Then, Marigold cleared her throat.
"Rose and I did something incredibly stupid and we both got hurt. But it's okay, we will be out in a few days. I needed some stitches, but I'll be just fine soon enough."
 Aurora sat for a bit, mouth agape. "Did... did you find that woman? Did she do something to you?"
 "Yes. And sort of. Not really."
 "Can you... tell me what happened?"
 Marigold sighed. "I... can try," she said. "Basically, she's been seen at this casino. Rose got a little drunk over dinner and suggested we go check it out. Without any preparation or kit. And Roxy was there. Of course she was."
 "Oh. Oh gosh." Aurora found herself touching her face. "You're both safe?"
 "We're in hospital. She, uh, kind of shot at us."
 Aurora's blood ran cold. "She what?"
 Marigold belatedly realised how that sounded. "No! That didn't come out right. She didn't shoot at us, but a glass panel behind us. Like, she didn't mean to kill us, I'm sure."
 Aurora's expression shifted several times. "She did... what?" she repeated, processing.
 "She, uh. Shot at a window, instead of us. Well, a glass panel. Part of a fountain display, not going to lie, it was really corny and I hated it from the moment I walked in here. So, all in all, not a huge loss." Marigold laughed nervously.
 Aurora sat in silence for a bit. "She... you sounded like you knew you were going to be safe when you left."
 Marigold heard the tremble in Aurora’s voice. Her heart clenched. “Aurora... look, I didn’t quite know what was or wasn’t going to happen. I said what I thought would reassure you.”
 Aurora frowned. "So you... lied to me?"
 “No!” Marigold bristled at the accusation. “No. I just... maybe said some things that weren’t necessarily entirely true...” Oh. “Um.”
 Aurora closed her eyes, trying to control her tone. "It doesn't matter. You're safe, both of you? Can you come home?"
 “We’re safe, yeah. And... I don’t know.” Marigold grimaced. “I haven’t talked to Azure yet.”
 "You should. She deserves to hear that you're okay."
 There was only silence from the other end of the line.
 "Marigold... Your guilt is showing." Aurora teased, but her voice still sounded rough. "Please. It isn't safe. Come back."
 Marigold let a few seconds pass, then cleared her throat. “I... don’t know if I can do that,” she said. “I’ll have to... we’ll have to figure out how to go from here. Aurora... Rori, I’m so sorry.”
 Aurora sighed. "Figures. Oh well. Maybe a bad time to ask, but have you considered the statement the staff requested? About the homophobia?"
 “Oh.” Marigold had, in fact, entirely forgotten about that. “No, I haven’t. I’ll put it on my to do list.”
 "Please. If it's not too much. People are noticing your disappearance."
  There are so many good reasons to just throw the towel and go home.
“I’ll definitely give it some thought. I... will let you know what’s happening.” Marigold sighed. “I should get going now.”
 "Alright. I'll see you... later?"
 “Maybe.” Marigold felt like there were words stuck in her throat. “I... uh. See you around.”
 "Yeah. See you. I miss you a lot."
 Marigold hung up with a sigh.
It was getting light outside, and in the other bed in the dim hospital room, Rose finally stirred, slowly regaining consciousness.
 Marigold glanced to her side, distress enveloping her every time she gazed upon the cuts littering Rose. They both now sported a few stitches and tape, covering welts from the glass. "Hey, you waking up alright there?"
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   Rose blinked, registering the unfamiliar room, the pain from her wounds, and Marigold’s voice.
She groaned. “Fuck. I’m still alive, aren’t I?”
 "It seems to be that way. Unless this is hell." Marigold chuckled bitterly. "We're both safe, just cosmetic damage. The doctors got most of the glass out while we were asleep."
 “Oh. Oh.” Rose got up slowly, rubbed her forehead. “Fuck. Roxy got away, didn’t she? Fuck. Marigold, what were we thinking?”
 "I'll be honest, I have no idea. That entire day is nearly blocked out of my mind," Marigold replied, quiet. Her fingers twirled. "Oh, I feel so embarrassed by all this. I've caused so much mess already, and now she knows we're tracking her, too."
 Rose sat up in her bed, thinking.
“You’ve already called Azure, right?”
 Marigold didn't reply. She only turned her head, slowly, grimacing and met Rose's eyes.
 Rose raised her eyebrows in utter disbelief.
“You haven’t? Marigold!”
 "Listen. I. I feel so much shame over all of this."
 Rose could only just stop herself from rolling her eyes. “Yeah, well, get over it. We fucked up, and now we have to confess to Azure. I would be surprised if she hadn’t already tried to get through to us.”
 Marigold laughed weakly, and held her phone up, showing it to Rose. "Read it and weep."
 Rose narrowed her eyes.
(5) Missed calls from Azure.
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“Give me that.” She snatched Marigold’s phone out of her hands. “I’ll call her, then.”
 "Wait, no, hold on!" Marigold grabbed for it. "I'll do it. She'll think it's weird if it's you."
 “So do it, then.” Rose gave her her phone, along with a steely glare. “No more procrastinating.”
 Marigold dialled. "Alright. I can't believe I just faced a near death experience and you're making my strain myself. Rude and uncalled for."
 “Yeah, well, you’re not the only one. Get on it. And put it on speaker, will you?”
The phone rang, and for a long moment, it seemed like maybe Azure wasn’t going to answer after all.
But then the line clicked. “Marigold! Thank god, finally! Are you okay?”
 "Yes, I'm sorry it took so long to get a hold of us. Rose is here too, she's awake now, you're on speakerphone."
 “Rose! Thank god. Are you okay? Are you both okay? Are you traumatised? Are you hurt?”
 Marigold took a deep breath. "We had some damage. Roxy shot up this water feature, totally unnecessary, that was made out of glass and that's what hit us. We're both due to leave as soon as the police get done with investigating us. We might, um, need a lawyer, I don't think the, uh, casino is too pleased."
 Azure let out a groan. “Okay, well, I’ll get that sorted. In the meantime, why don’t you tell me what happened? From the beginning.”
 "Alright, so. After the call with you, we got stressed out, so we went out for dinner. And then, um, one of us was a bit intoxicated and we thought it was a good idea to go to the casino."
 Azure was speechless for a moment.
“For clarification,” Rose piped up, “the intoxicated one was me. I’m sorry.”
“Okay.” Azure’s voice sounded a bit shaky. “Okay. You... did take your kit with you, right?”
 "Um. Well, you see. We intended only to go out for dinner." Marigold swallowed.
 “I... see.” Azure sighed. “So then what happened?”
 "And then... Um. The casino. Just happened."
 “Can you clarify?”
“We only wanted to scout it out,” Rose said. “We just wanted to have a look around. We didn’t expect her to be there. Except... she was.”
 "I mostly just wanted to leave,” Marigold said. “I can't remember much of it."
 “You were stuck at the slots for half an hour,” Rose threw in, glancing at Marigold.
 "I have a problem, okay?"
 “You told me you used to have a problem,” Rose said sharply.
“Okay, okay, that’s enough of that,” Azure interjected. “So then what happened?”
 "I can barely remember. The fire alarm went off at some point, though." Marigold rubbed at her forehead.
 Rose swallowed. “We spotted her, and tried to catch her out. But she created a disturbance... and she shot at us, and got away.”
 "I. It's not like that." Marigold waved her hands, "I don't think she wanted to shoot us directly. She looked scared."
 “She shot at you? Allah!” Azure sounded like she was about to faint. “Marigold, Rose, are you okay? You must be traumatised!”
 Marigold was quiet for a second. "She didn't shoot at us. Just in our direction. She didn't intend to kill us. She just wanted to run."
 Rose snorted. “Marigold still wants to believe the best in her. I’m not buying it. She aimed badly.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Azure said, “the point is that you could’ve gotten seriously injured – or worse! And it’s only through luck that you didn’t! What was I thinking, sending you both... you should come home.”
 "No!" Marigold exclaimed, shame bleeding into her voice. "That's not necessary. We came all this way and found her, I'm sure she was just terrified. I'm sure we can also figure this out. I owe it to Claire."
 Azure sighed. “Okay, if you’re that desperate to stay. What do you think, Rose?”
“Well,” Rose said, “we got so close this once. I still want to take her down. I’m sure we can do it. If... if we’re not stupid about it this time.”
 Marigold sighed in relief. It seemed the mission was still on. "I refuse to fail, Azure. You know that. Has there been any news or other sightings while we were out?"
 “No sightings. But the police aren’t best pleased, as I’m sure you can imagine. They want you out of their hair.” Azure sighed. “Whatever happens next, you need to lay low for a while.”
“Oh, and what’s the plan for that?”
 Marigold looked away. "Indeed. I refuse to stay here for much longer."
 "Well, you still have the rooms in the hotel. Stay there for now, and I'll figure something out," Azure said. "I have a few things planned - you'll actually meet my lawyer properly soon. You know, the one who brought you your kit?"
"She really doesn't want to be involved," Rose said, apprehensive.
"Yeah, but she has to be now. You're in some legal trouble from the casino, and she also needs to help you out with the language, and generally look after you a bit."
 "We don't need to be babysat just because we got shot towards." Marigold huffed, crossing her arms. "I don't want to feel like a liability like that."
 "I assure you, it isn't like that. Although, after the stunt you just pulled, I can see why you'd get that impression." Azure gave a dark chuckle. "She's my representative and will be acting as a third member of your party. She doesn't want to be involved, but she has personal stakes in this as well. You see, her and Marina are good friends."
 "Oh. It would explain why she didn't want to touch this." Marigold nodded, and then sighed again. "Alright. What's going to happen to us, then? I take it that plans have changed a little now that we've bumped into Roxy."
 "Just a little. I am not clear yet on the actual proceedings. You're not involved with Interpol anymore, at least for the moment. And I have half a mind to send you on a spa day, since you've gone through what sounds like quite a traumatic experience."
"You can't be serious," Rose said.
 Marigold gave a cheeky smirk. "Oh, I've not been to one in years. I couldn't imagine what the ones around here are like."
 "I am quite serious, Rose," Azure said. "There's one that has excellent reviews just down the road from your hotel - in the exact opposite direction of the casino. I might see if I can organise some counselling sessions as well for the two of you - you must be absolutely rattled."
 Marigold gritted her teeth. "That won't be necessary. There wasn't anything traumatic about bumping into an old friend."
 "I don't really think I want to even start processing any of this just yet," Rose said, her voice cold. "I function better when I'm firmly in denial. I'll do the breaking down and therapy bit when I'm back home, thank you very much."
"As you wish." Azure sighed again. "I'll leave you be for now. Zephyrine will be there in a few hours. Catch up with your folks at home if you want, get some rest, don't leave the room until you've heard from me or Zephyrine."
 "A few hours?" Marigold groaned. "Can either of you hurry it up and get us out of here fast? I don't like being all cooped up."
 "Well, deal with it. It's out of my hands. Don't do anything stupid."
"I mean, we did only just get here," Rose said. "I don't know what sort of injuries you've sustained, but I think I wouldn't mind being looked at by a doctor before I just up and leave."
"Yes, that too, of course," Azure said. "Well! I have to go now. Keep me in the loop - although I have other sources as well, and I'll know if you do anything."
 Marigold looked at the ground miserably. "Alright. We'll see you later, then. Or talk later, I guess. Miss you."
 “Miss you too. Well, bye for now.” The line clicked.
Rose sighed.
“Well, I guess we now know for sure that our little excursion to the casino was a terrible idea,” she said.
And then, she added, “I should call home. Don’t know whether Azure has let Greg or Pearl know about anything, but from the radio silence I’ve had, I’m guessing no.”
 Marigold stayed quiet for a second before nodding. "Alright. I might head to the bathroom and see if I can find anyone to let us out soon, it should give you some privacy."
 Rose gave her a wry smile. “Thank you,” she said.
She waited until Marigold had left the room, then took her phone and dialled Greg.
 Greg picked up after a tone. His voice sounded somewhat relieved. "Rose! Oh god, it's good to hear from ya! I thought you'd gone missing when you didn't check in. Having a good trip?"
 Rose swallowed.
“Well, I suppose so,” she said. “I guess the good news is that we found Roxy. ...the bad news is that we’re in hospital now, but only with some minor injuries. Expecting to be discharged later today.”
 Greg paused for a brief second. "Holy balls! How did you land yourself there? Are you okay?"
 “Yeah, we’re fine. It’s all just gotten...” Rose sighed, wishing she’d filled in Greg a little more before leaving. “A bit more complicated than expected,” she finally said. “I had hoped this would be over quickly, but I might be here for a while. Try not to worry too much, though – I’m sure it will all be okay.”
 "A-Alright, my love, I'll just uh, sit tight, I guess. Lemme know when you're out, alright?" He seemed to be trying to calm himself down more than her. "It's a shame I can't join you in all this dangerous magical destiny stuff. It sounds... exciting? Terrifying? Just... make it back okay, okay?"
 “Of course.” Rose smiled, her heart aching a little. Greg had such a sweet, unassuming way of dealing with things. “I’ll keep you in the loop. How’s everything going at home? Have you had the chance to bond with Pearl yet?”
 A weary sigh. "No. I think she's, uh, left me alone. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she was actively avoiding me!" A little laugh, he wasn't taking it too badly, at least. "I'm sure she's bound to come round, I mean, she can't escape me forever, right? You know how teenage girls can get, I'll give her the space to come to me first. I still don't really know why she always seems to be... mad at me, but she's got to have more going on beneath the surface, so I can't judge."
 Rose’s shoulders slumped a little at that. It would be so, so lovely if Pearl and Greg could get on. But Pearl... even after all her growth, her therapy, her recovery, she still had so many complicated feelings. And Greg, well, poor Greg was certainly not going to be in Pearl’s good books, exactly.
“Give her time,” Rose said. “I’ll give her a call separately in a moment. She’s probably feeling awkward because of, well. Our history.”
 "I figured. Hey, it's okay, I think she just needs to find out that I'm not a threat. I just want to be friends, and I know my intentions are good. And she'll get that in her own time."
 Rose smiled. “You’re a good person, Greg,” she said. “I’m sure everything will work out.”
 "Me, too. I mean, at least with whatever's going on there you've got the security of knowing we're all safe over here and that it's not going to change."
 “Yeah,” Rose said softly. “Look after yourself, okay? I should go. It’s nice to hear your voice, though.”
 "Yeah. Same here. Do keep Pearl updated too, unless ya want me to...?" He seemed awkward about the idea as his voice trailed off.
 "No, that's okay, I'll call her myself. I know it's a bit awkward at the moment, so I'll handle it." Rose's voice was warm. "I need to go now. I love you."
 "Love ya. All the best to the rest of your mission," Greg replied before hanging up, leaving Rose in her silence.
 Rose stared at her phone for a little while, then gave a small sigh.
Marigold hadn't returned yet. Rose found Pearl's number in her contacts and dialled.
 Pearl picked up after a couple of rings. "Hi! Are you okay? Rori sent me a couple of weird texts about you."
 "Oh. Did she now? Well, yeah. I'm okay. We... got injured, and we're in hospital, but nothing is serious and we're leaving this afternoon."
 Pearl gave a little gasp. "Oh! I mean... I'm glad you're getting out soon. Can you tell me what happened, or?"
 Rose hesitated. "I'd rather not go into too much detail," she said, "but I'm sure you can gather that we found Roxy, and it wasn't exactly a happy reunion."
 "Oh. God. Honestly, I'm glad I've never met this woman and probably never will. She sounds like the epitome of bad news."
 "Yeah, she kind of is." Rose sighed. "How's everything going at home?"
 "Ugh. Awkward, to be honest. Your Greg seems to enjoy trying to breathe down my neck."
 "Is he doing that?" Rose frowned. "I talked to him earlier, and he just seemed to be keen to get to know you. He likes making friends, and he's curious about you."
 "I'm good," Pearl replied through gritted teeth. "I think I'm more comfortable with it all when you're around to mediate."
 "There isn't much to mediate, is there?" Rose said gently. "He's not done anything to warrant that and neither have you, or is there something I don't know about?"
 "No, no, nothing like that." Pearl seemed a little flustered. "I don't think you'll quite get my frustration since you're infatuated with him. But I'm fine just sort of doing my own thing and cohabiting this place without really being close if that's okay."
 "Well, you're living with him now, and it's nice and civil to talk to the people you're living with," Rose said. "You could at least give him a chance."
 "Fine." Pearl paused for a second before giving a slight yelp down the phone line.
 Rose started. "You okay there?"
 "I don't need this Stranger Things bullshit!" Pearl yelled away from the phone microphone. She gave an annoyed sigh. "The lights have been a bit dodgy, that's the worst flickering we've had yet, though."
 Rose frowned. "That doesn't sound good," she said. "Don't get eaten by a demogorgon. ...and call me if it gets worse. It's my house, after all."
 "Yeah, I will. Whereabouts would I need to go to check it? Ah, whatever, Greg will have it covered, right?"
 "The fuse box is downstairs, near the boiler. I showed Greg the other day, it should be okay." Hopefully.
 "Alright. I'll try to chill about it. Oh yeah, my last exam is next week. Then it's all over! I'm free!"
 "Yeah! Do you feel prepared?"
 "As I'll ever be." Pearl revealed more with a nervous laugh. "Oh, that reminds me, I'll need to call Amy about it. God knows if she's even aware that it's on."
 "How's she been doing?" Rose asked. "Have you been able to help her a bit?"
 "English isn't really my strong suit, so I'm kind of trying to look out for myself first on this one. She's better at it than me but you know how Amy gets about exams."
 "Hmm, that's fair enough." Rose sighed. "I feel bad for leaving in the middle of exam season. There's students who might need my help."
 "The biology papers passed before you left, Rose. I can ask around and see if I can tutor students in the year below, though."
 "I would appreciate that. There's some younger years that have their exams later on."
 "Oh god, yeah. I think I can pull out my old notes for it." Pearl replied. "They're at home, though. Yikes."
 "Oh. Not ideal, I understand." Rose frowned. "Actually, I use the spare bedroom as a study too sometimes, so there should be some books and worksheets there that might help you out."
 "Oh! Now that's true, I'll see if anyone's around at school and if they're interested." Pearl replied. "Any other news on your end? Still can't believe you're out there with Diamond of all people."
"I know, right?" Rose cast a glance at the door, waiting for Marigold to come back. "But yeah, that is petty much it. Had a bit of a rough time the night we got here, but it worked out okay."
 "Do you think you'll be able to give me all the scoop later? When you come back?" Pearl asked cheekily.
 Rose gave a small chuckle. “Of course,” she said. “I think Marigold has a similar sort of arrangement with Aurora. We just shouldn’t talk too much about what’s going on at the moment, cus it’s a matter of international security. Or something.”
 "Oh, oof. That sounds like an adventure already. Does Diamond snore? Are you sharing a bed? How much milk does she put in her coffee?"
 "Pearl!" Rose said, laughing. "We have separate rooms, and I'm sure your sister could answer those questions better than me."
 "Oh." Pearl stuttered, surprised. "Very true. Do you have any idea when you'll be back yet?"
 Rose hesitated.
"I'm not sure," she said. "Soon, I hope."
 "Me too. It's weird without you. Going into school feels so... oddly empty now."
 "I didn't realise you were still going into school a lot. Are you going to a lot of revision sessions?"
 "Only for exams. Sometimes I pass by when I'm out. I can't believe I'll be gone soon. I wonder if we're gonna hang out after I go to uni."
 "Well, if you want to, then my door will always be open to you. And you have my number." Rose paused for a long moment. "And... I won't be your teacher anymore."
 Pearl didn't reply for a bit.  "That'll be strange. Will I turn into... a friend, instead of your pupil? Is that how it works? Is it even appropriate?"
 Rose couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, Pearl. As if we haven’t passed that point a long time ago.”
 "No, but it's weird! I-"
The door swung open and Marigold triumphantly made her entrance. "I managed to complain to the manager of this place and get us out!"
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   “Oh, god. Hang on a second, Pearl.” Rose dropped her hand holding the phone and stared at Marigold. “I thought we were leaving that up to Azure.”
 "Azure isn't being quick enough. I'm going stir crazy." Marigold huffed before stepping back. "Oh! You're on the phone."
 “Yeah. Sorry. Gimme two seconds.” Rose put the phone to her ear again. “Pearl? Sorry about that. I should probably go now.”
 "I heard. I hope you can enjoy even some of this trip. I've always wanted to go to Italy. Anyway! I'll see you later, okay?"
 “Yeah! Good luck with your exams, and let me know how tutoring goes if you decide to do it! It was nice to talk to you.”
 "Yeah, sure!" Pearl's voice turned sombre. "I can't wait to see you again. Bye!"
 Rose hung up the phone and then looked at Marigold.
"Alright," she said, "let's get out of here, then."
6 notes ¡ View notes
ddaengjo ¡ 6 years ago
Text
love me like you do ┊ hwang hyunjin
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genre: best friends to lovers au, fluff, angst
pairing: reader x hyunjin
warnings: cursing, drinking, infinity war spoilers
summary: you had been best friends with hwang hyunjin since grade school. you both knew each other like the back of your hand, and you shared everything with one another. in fact, all your friends joked that you’d eventually get married, settle down, and have five kids. of course, the both of you just saw that as funny, since you were both currently dating other people. but that was before everything became a complete mess.
author’s note: this is my first fic! i hope you all like it, because i definitely enjoyed writing it. (p.s. ― i use all lowercase when not writing formally, but in all my writing pieces i make sure to capitalize and use proper grammar!)
You're the light, you’re the night You’re the color of my blood You’re the cure, you’re the pain You’re the only thing I wanna touch Never knew that it could mean so much, so much
It was the sound of your phone buzzing loudly that woke you up at 2:30 a.m., groggy and angry and ready to fight the world. You groped around your bedside table, trusting your fingers rather than your sleep-blurred eyesight ― considering you were already myopic to the point that you could barely see something three feet away without your glasses on, you could trade eyesight with a bat and still be better off at this early hour. After a long while of uncomfortable straining,  you finally sighed in victorious relief, your fingers closing around the smooth case of your phone. Dropping it onto your pillow beside you, you squinted at the bright screen, trying to adjust to the sudden burst of light in the dark room. You swiped your finger across the screen, unlocking it, and opened your texts to find new messages from your best friend, Hyunjin.
[2:30 a.m.]  Y/N Y/N Y/N
You groaned, rolling your eyes and falling back against the pillows, debating on whether to answer his text or just leave him on read. Your innate sense of compassion (Hyunjin always swore that you were nothing but Satan, while everyone else who WASN’T your best friend since grade school and DIDN’T clown you for a living always called you a sweetheart) won the battle, and you ended up answering. But that didn’t mean you were going to play nice.
[2:33 a.m.]  hwang hyunjin you better have a good reason for this because if i weren’t so fucking tired i’d punch you in your perfect teeth.
[2:38 a.m.]  aw good morning to you too 💖💖💖 i’ve been up all night trying to make a head or tail of this history project and it just makes NO SENSE UGH Y/N I NEED YOUR GENIUS INTELLECT RIGHT NOW AND RIGHT HERE
[2:42 a.m.]  i absolutely hate you and your procrastinating ass.
[2:43 a.m.]  says the queen of procrastinating herself 💀💀
[2:45 a.m.]  YOU WOKE ME UP AT 2:30 AM YOU ASSHOLE SO STOP CLOWNING ME OR I’M MUTING YOUR NOTIFS AND LEAVING YOU ON READ 💀💀
[2:47 a.m.]  FINE FINE JUST COME HELP ME
[2:48 a.m.]  i’m too lazy to get out of bed so i’m just gonna skype you. but dw, you’ll still feel the salt coming off me when i talk 😘😘
[2:50 a.m.]  y/n you beautiful wonderful human being i love you so much i’d throw myself under a truck for you.
[2:53 a.m.]  lmao don’t let minjoo hear you say that unless you want her to actually throw ME under a truck buddy 😉
You couldn’t help smiling; it was impossible for you to stay angry at someone as goofy and vibrant as Hyunjin, especially because you knew him so well and for so long. You didn’t really care that you were wearing just a strap-sleeved tank top and shorts, or that you had a bedhead; Hyunjin had seen you in far worse states, like when you were in the fourth grade and had the stomach flu for a month. That was bad. You closed your texts, opening Skype instead, and clicked the very first contact, waiting for Hyunjin to pick up your video call. He picked up right on the second ring, grinning ear to ear; he was wearing his  “I ❤️ NY” shirt, his favorite gray hoodie, and khaki shorts, not to mention the goofy smile he always wore when talking to you.
“How’s Satan doing today?” he joked immediately, his face lighting up at the sight of you. His eyes twinkled with mischief as you rolled your eyes.
“Just fine, thanks,” you grumbled. “As great as one could be at almost 3 o’clock in the morning, when even the BIRDS aren’t awake.”
“For all it counts, I think your hair seems to be doing great at almost 3 o’clock in the morning,” Hyunjin said sagely, nodding his head. “I mean, it’s hiding your devil’s horns really well, and it also doesn’t look like a mama bat had a mental breakdown while making her nest!”
“I hate you.”
Hyunjin pretended to clutch his heart, wounded, despite the grin still playing on his lips. “Aww, Y/N, now you’re just being cruel. You know you don’t mean that.”
As much as you hated to admit it, you knew he was right. And he knew, too, judging by his little smirk. Had you been sitting next to him in person, you’d have thrown a pillow at him by this time.
“All right, what is it you don’t understand?” you asked, rolling your eyes yet again.
“Everything!”
You swallowed the urge to groan loudly. This was going to be one long, long night.
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You're the fear, I don't care 'Cause I've never been so high Follow me to the dark Let me take you past our satellites You can see the world you brought to life, to life
You managed to get three hours of sleep that night, thanks to your dumbass of a best friend. He owed you big-time, you thought, sipping your coffee through pursed lips while glaring balefully out the window as you waited for him to show up at your house. You both had walked to school together since you were eight and he was nine; you weren’t planning on stopping that even when you were in college, since you were both hoping to major in some form of art ― he in photography, you in writing ― and attend the same university.
It was 7:30 a.m. when Hyunjin came jogging breathlessly up your driveway and let himself in using the spare key you’d given him. You had half an hour to kill before your bus arrived, so you’d not only made yourself coffee, you’d set a mug on the table for Hyunjin as well. He took it gratefully, crossing the kitchen in a few large strides ― he was a literal ten inches taller than you, with his 5’10” towering over your 5’0” ― to join you by the counter, where he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. To anyone else, it seemed as if you were both dating, but it to you both, it was merely just a gesture of affection between two old friends.
“So, Bigfoot, you took your sweet time getting here,” you commented dryly, looking him up and down with a wry little smirk. Your smile fading, you sipped your slowly cooling coffee and added, “All jokes aside, though, you look God-awful.”
“Thanks.”
“Your dark circles make it look as if you got punched in the eyes by an angry jack-in-the-box, and you’re looking pretty pale in the face,” you said bluntly, shaking your head. “Hyunjinnie, you’re driving yourself crazy. When you’re not staying up late for music lessons and photography projects, you’re staying up late doing your homework. You have to get more sleep.”
“Yeah, about that…” He ran a hand through his hair, rubbing the back of his neck absently as his eyes met yours. He guided you over to the couch, sinking into the seat next to you as he continued. “I’m sorry about last night. I know you didn't get much sleep because of me. So, to make it up to you, I called Minjoo and Yongwoon up, and we’re doing a movie night double date at my place. My treat.”
Hyunjin was so considerate. That was one thing that made you love him so much ― he didn’t just throw some fake apology at you and forget about it; he tried to make it up to you in full. He was like that with you, with his girlfriend, with your boyfriend, everyone.
As soon as the wall clock read that it was 8:00, you grabbed Hyunjin’s hand, practically hauling him out of the house as he chuckled, trying to keep pace with you. “Relax, Y/N, the bus is never early!”
“I know, but Yongwoon is!” you panted, skidding to a halt at your bus stop, where your boyfriend was waiting as usual, one hand in his tousled black hair. “Hey, Yong!”
“Y/N! You’re early!” He exclaimed; you caught sight of the odd expression that flitted across his face and realized that you were still holding Hyunjin’s hand. You let go of your best friend’s hand, seeing his girlfriend, Minjoo, standing a little distance away; Hyunjin fist-bumped you as he passed you, greeting his girlfriend with a brief peck on the lips. You turned to your own significant other, who pressed his lips to yours for a moment before asking, a little edgily, “Why were you holding Hyunjin’s hand? Y/N… do you like him?”
There was a long breath of silence after his words. Finally, you began to laugh ― not at him, but because you found his question funny. “Sorry ― sorry, Yong, that was just really funny. Babe, Hyunjin and I are just really good friends. We’ve known each other since our sandbox days! Things like holding hands and hanging out a lot are just… things we’ve been doing for a really, really long time. But it doesn’t change anything for us. We’ve been doing this for over a year, and I love you just the same, see?” You kissed him again, and this time he had no complaints.
As soon as the bus arrived, you scrambled to reserve the back row for yourself, Yongwoon, Hyunjin, and Minjoo; you’d all sat there as a group since freshman year. As usual, you slid into your window seat, with Hyunjin dropping into the one next to yours, as Minjoo and Yongwoon dropped into the seat across the aisle. You didn’t see the look that passed between his girlfriend and your boyfriend because you were too busy looking over Hyunjin’s paper and making small revisions, which were mainly just grammatical errors, since the majority of your cramming session had been last night.
“I think this is good,” you said finally, as the school came into view. The smile Hyunjin gave you was definitely worth all the grumblings and lost sleep; you loved the way his eyes sparkled and crinkled at the corners when he smiled, the way his dimples deepened, and it had been your personal goal since day one of your friendship, when he’d fallen in the sandbox and you’d helped him up, to never let him lose that smile. You were the one who was a year younger than him, but you were also the more protective one in the friendship. It was something people often teased you about, calling you a mother hen, but you wore the title proudly. You were indeed a mother hen when it came to your best friend.
Your first class was history, which you and Hyunjin had together; Yongwoon had psychology, while Minjoo had English, so you waved goodbye, promising to save them seats at lunch. Hyunjin blew an exaggerated kiss at Minjoo, who giggled as you punched him in the shoulder, pretending to gag. “Ugh, look who decided to become Romeo all of a sudden! Come on, lover boy, or we’re gonna be late for class, and I’ll get my first detention because of you.”
“I don’t want to spend the rest of my days in purgatory, if you please, ma’am, so on we go,” Hyunjin said very seriously, earning himself another punch from you. “Ow! You’re short, but you punch like a sumo wrestler! What, did you absorb the soul of a wrestler you reaped, Satan?”
“Ha ha ha, very funny,” you grumbled, sinking into your seat at the back table, across from Hyunjin, right as the bell rang. “I’ll reap your soul if you don’t shut up.”
Even as the lesson went on, you spent the class passing notes and doodling all over each other’s papers, sometimes laughing so hard your teacher, a well-dressed brunette in her early thirties, had to frown in your direction, her finger pressed against her lips in a signal of silence.
That was how every day was, with you both ― it was just you and him. You were the planets; everyone else was just a satellite. You were a technicolor movie; they were just the audience. You and Hyunjin were the world; they were just outer space.
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So love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do Love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do Touch me like you do, to-to-touch me like you do What are you waiting for?
It was on the bus home that you succumbed to the sleep that had been haunting your eyelids since the morning’s coffee had worn off mid-math class. One minute you were arguing with Hyunjin over whether milk or cereal came first (you argued milk, having gotten that habit from your parents, while Hyunjin argued that it was cereal), the next you had nodded off, your petite head on his broad shoulder.
When you came to, it was in a familiar room with soft blue walls and GOT7 posters all over the wall. You sat up, squinting slightly at the pale, watery orange sunlight streaming through the window; the translucent chartreuse curtains were slightly open, showing a rapidly darkening sunset sky in the prettiest pastel shades of blue, pink, and purple. You yawned, stretching your arms, and glanced down; you were still wearing your school clothes, which were now a bit rumpled because you’d slept in them.
“Sleep well, Sleeping Beauty?” You turned your head to see Hyunjin smiling at you from where he sat working at his desk, which was a sea of scattered papers. His glasses reflected a bit of the screen of his laptop and a bit of the sunset, which didn’t seem like a beautiful combination, but somehow, he made it work. He only wore his glasses at home unless he was out of contacts to use, in which case you’d see him wear his glasses to school for about a week before going back to wearing contacts; you stuck with your glasses at all times, mainly because for one, you were terrified of putting something in your eye, and for two, you had awful bags under your eyes, which your glasses did a good job hiding ― or at least keeping anyone from noticing.
You stretched again, comfortable after a few hours of rest. “You bet I did. Like a baby, in fact. How long was I out?”
“It’s 6:05 ― you can do the math.” You could hear the smile in his voice as you took a moment to decipher his words. Then your eyes widened. “I SLEPT FOR THREE HOURS?”
“Don’t worry, you haven’t missed movie night,” Hyunjin promised. “We still have an hour till Minjoo and Yongwoon are supposed to arrive. Do you want to get changed? Maybe take a shower to freshen up?”
“Yeah ― yeah, sounds great,” you said, stretching one last time before swinging your legs out from under the covers, so that you were now sitting on the edge of his bed. “All my stuff is next door, though.”
“You can grab some clothes from my closet,” he offered, smiling in your direction. “Just like when we were kids and your parents were out.”
You got up, shaking out your legs to get some feeling back into them, and opened his closet, choosing a purple tie-dye t-shirt. “I’m wearing shorts under my skirt, anyway, so I’ll just wear this over those,” you explained, and Hyunjin nodded.
The warm water felt like a liquid hug; you spent twenty minutes under the shower before deciding you didn’t want to turn into a living prune. You found, upon wearing it, that Hyunjin’s shirt went to your knees, but what did it matter? It was cozy. You blow-dried your hair, which took another twenty minutes, before pulling it into a loose bun and glancing at the time in your watch ― 6:50 p.m., which meant Minjoo and Yongwoon would be here soon. You noticed that the light in Hyunjin’s room was now off; he must be downstairs, you realized, so you descended the stairs, knowing from the rising aroma of hot chocolate that you’d find him in the kitchen. He glanced up at the sound of your footsteps, his face lighting up with a smile as his eyes fell on you. “You look adorable. Purple is definitely your color.”
“And you look suspicious. Who are you and what have you done with Hwang Hyunjin?” you snorted, amused. “I was expecting you to clown me for how big this shirt looks on me.”
He chuckled, turning back to the stove for a moment before placing a snowflake-printed mug on the counter in front of you. “Hot cocoa?”
“Thanks!” You took the mug gratefully, blowing on the steaming liquid for a few minutes before taking a sip, appreciating the feeling of the chocolatey, sugary sweetness, mixed with a hint of cinnamon and the creaminess of whipped cream, sliding down your throat. You had just taken another sip when the doorbell rang, prompting you to move towards the door, the hot cocoa mug still in your hand. You opened it to find Yongwoon, holding a bouquet of red roses.
“Hey! You’re…” You glanced at your watch, which read that it was 6:55 p.m. “...Five minutes early! Oh my gosh, are those for me?”
“Yes, they are!” He handed you the bouquet, grinning ear to ear, until his eyes took in what you were wearing. His smile faded slightly as he added, “Is that one of Hyunjin’s, Y/N?”
“Wha ― oh, yeah ― yeah, it is,” you said, a little surprised by the question.
“She fell asleep on the bus,” Hyunjin explained, “and since she lost sleep because of me, I felt bad waking her up. So I just carried her here and let her rest up in my room while I did my homework. When she woke up, she wanted to shower, and we realized she didn’t have a change of clothes, so I let her borrow one of my shirts.”
“I see.” Yongwoon’s lips had tightened considerably at this, but he didn’t say anything. In fact, he didn’t say anything till Minjoo arrived, about fifteen minutes after him; it was just you and Hyunjin chattering away over your hot cocoa until that time.
By the time she’d arrived, Hyunjin had gotten a huge bucket of buttered popcorn ready. He had four cushions ready on the ground for everyone, but you didn’t need your cushion; you just sat down in front of Hyunjin, your head in his lap, as you grabbed a handful of popcorn, munching contentedly as your boyfriend and his girlfriend came to join you on either side. Yongwoon imitated you, grabbing his own handful of the buttery, salty popcorn, while Minjoo was more refined, choosing to take the occasional two pieces of popcorn from time to time.
“What do you guys want to watch?” Hyunjin asked, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as he leaned back, propping himself up with one elbow.
“American Horror Story,” Yongwoon volunteered immediately, earning himself identical protests from you, Hyunjin, and Minjoo. He conceded defeat, grumbling to himself before falling silent and waiting for one of you to make a choice.
“Titanic?” Minjoo suggested, earning herself a loud yawn from Yongwoon and an identical groan of rejection from yourself and Hyunjin. Her expression became a sulky one, which made all three of you laugh.
“Avengers: Infinity War?” you suggested. Hyunjin nodded enthusiastically; you two were pretty much the biggest Marvel nerds around.
“Are you sure you’re not going to soak my sleeve in tears again?” Hyunjin asked teasingly. “Remember last time, when you were bawling so hard I was afraid I’d have to pull a Noah and ark my way outta there?”
You turned and sat up to glare at him, indignant. “You were crying, too!”
He blushed, ducking his head in embarrassment. “Okay, okay, fair point. Any objections?”
Minjoo was too sulky to say anything, while Yongwoon was just too whipped for you to say a word against your wishes.
“All right! Infinity War it is,” Hyunjin declared, pulling you more closely into his lap before positioning himself comfortably, half sitting and half lying against his cushion as he tossed some more popcorn into his mouth, searching through Amazon Prime Video till he found it. Then he hit play, wrapped one arm around you, and sat back to enjoy the movie.
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Fading in, fading out On the edge of paradise Every inch of your skin is a holy gray I've got to find Only you can set my heart on fire, on fire Yeah, I'll let you set the pace 'Cause I'm not thinking straight My head spinning around I can't see clear no more What are you waiting for?
Two hours and forty minutes later, you and Hyunjin were clinging to each other and sobbing your eyes out, your shoulders a mess of each other’s tears, snot, and drool. It would have been disgusting if this weren’t your usual movie-watching ritual ― you two were the sensitive ones, and if anything remotely sad were to happen in a movie, the room would be flooded within the next five minutes as you clung to each other and wept as if your hearts would break.
“I thought you said you’d be okay this time,” Hyunjin sobbed, wiping his eyes on the hem of his sleeve as he crushed you in a hug.
“I’m never emotionally prepared enough for that movie,” you sobbed back, mimicking him and wiping your eyes on the edge of your sleeve ― or at least trying to as best you could through his bone-crushingly tight embrace.
On your left, Minjoo was just staring blankly at the screen as if not sure of what to do in terms of a reaction, while Yongwoon, on your right, had his lips pursed and his fists clenched. “Damned Marvel,” he growled, shaking his fist. “Killing off Black Panther like that… that’s not fair.”
“Groot had such a bright future ahead of him,” Hyunjin hiccuped miserably, reaching for the popcorn, which was running dangerously low.
“I agree,” you sniffled. “Man, Bucky never deserves the shit he gets. He was captured by the Nazis, fell off a mountain, lost an arm, got frozen and experimented on by HYDRA, became their brainwashed puppet, killed a bunch of people, accidentally tore apart the Avengers, got frozen over again, and then right when he was spending a peaceful time in Wakanda he got drawn into the fighting and then h-he just goes ‘Steve…’ and fades away and just...” You broke down again, prompting a wince from Yongwoon and an eye roll from Minjoo.
“I know,” Hyunjin lamented, patting your back reassuringly. “Well… that was fun, right?”
“Right,” Yongwoon said unconvincingly, his eyes narrowing slightly at the sight of Hyunjin’s strong arms drawing you more tightly into an embrace. You two had been nothing but skinship since the beginning of the evening ― or, if you counted the hand-holding in the morning, since the beginning of the day ― and he was beginning to feel a bit threatened by the boy you called your closest friend. He felt threatened, jealous, every time your fingers tangled together, every time your eyes met, every time you laughed at something he said, every time you gazed at him as if he was the only boy in the world. It was getting harder and harder for him to believe you every time you declared yourself and Hyunjin “just friends”.
He didn’t like it at all.
Minjoo smiled thinly, her smile not quite meeting her movie-star eyes with their perfectly done makeup. “It was lovely.”
She, too, felt a surge of wicked jealousy every time you and Hyunjin were together. It hadn’t bothered her as much at first, but now, it was almost all she thought about. The way he smiled at you, as if there was nothing and no one more important. The way he always jumped to choose you anytime anything ― a game, a project, anything at all ― involved a partner. The way he didn’t seem to care when you saw him in his glasses, but almost always avoided wearing them around her. The way he always chose yours whenever he needed a shoulder to cry into.
The way he felt so distant from her, even if he was next to her, and yet so close to you, even when you were apart.
And she hated it.
As Yongwoon left, he turned to press his lips against yours for a long moment, the intensity almost double that of any normal kiss of yours. He stole a glance at Hyunjin, who simply smiled a bright smile at him before brushing Minjoo’s lips with his and waving goodbye as she left. “I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, stepping out into the night.
“Hey, Y/N, want to stay over for the night?” Hyunjin asked. You smiled apologetically. “Nah, I wish I could, but Mom and Dad are going to video call to check in with me in about half an hour. I have to make dinner before getting started on my homework.”
“I could join you,” Hyunjin offered, his eyes lighting up. “And, to make up for last night, I can help you with homework today!”
“Hwang Hyunjin, you legend, you’re so amazing that I could 10/10 kiss you,” you declared.
He laughed, rumpling your hair gently. “You already did once, remember? Spin the bottle, seventh grade. You were my first kiss, Y/N!”
“Oh, yeah! That girl from the classroom next door, the one who kept ogling at you, looked like she was ready to pee herself!” you snickered, choking on your own laughter and erupting in a fit of coughing that left tears in your eyes; Hyunjin rubbed circles on your back soothingly, hoping to ease the coughs. Once he deemed it safe to leave your side, he hurried back into the kitchen to grab you a glass of water, which you took and gulped down gratefully. “Thanks, Hyunjinnie.”
“Don’t worry about it. And be more careful,” he scolded, earning an amused eye roll from you.
“See you tomorrow? Noon at that bubble tea place down the block?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Good night, Hyunjinnie.”
As you left, he watched you, his fingers tingling where yours had been resting against them just a moment earlier, realizing how much you’d grown up… and wondering how he’d grown lucky enough to have you by his side during all these years.
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Love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do Love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do Touch me like you do, to-to-touch me like you do What are you waiting for?
Love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do (like you do) Love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do (yeah) Touch me like you do, to-to-touch me like you do What are you waiting for?
He didn’t fail to meet you the next day ― in fact, he was early, waiting for you at an outdoor table as you arrived, wearing a mint-green hoodie and black yoga pants, your hair tied back in a neat ponytail.
“Hey, Sasquatch,” you called jokingly, and his glance snapped up from his phone to you, his eyes brightening and the corners of his full, rich coral-pink lips tugging themselves upwards into a bright grin.
“Y/N! Nice hoodie, the color suits you,” he exclaimed, tilting his head slightly to the side as he added, “is it new? I’ve never seen you wear it before.”
“Yeah, I bought it last week,” you said, feeling a rush of warmth rise in your chest at the fact that he’d noticed that small detail. He really did pay attention to everything.
“I love the color. Does it come in men’s?”
“Not sure. I’ll check, though ― we can go together, sometime tonight or tomorrow.”
“Sounds like a plan!” he declared, then glanced at the menu card in front of him. “I’m guessing you want your usual coconut milk tea, Y/N?”
“Yep, that’s me. Boring and predictable, like the old granny I am at heart,” you quipped, earning yourself another laugh from your companion.
“Predictable, maybe, since I’ve known you for so long,” Hyunjin agreed. “But boring? No way. You could never be boring, Y/N, no matter how long I’ve known you.”
You felt the color rising in your cheeks as you flushed pleasurably at your best friend’s compliment, which meant a lot more to you than he could imagine. “You’re sweet.”
His grin melted your heart as you grabbed the menu. “Let me guess ― you want the watermelon bubble tea. Again.”
“Why, Y/N,” Hyunjin gasped mockingly, his eyes widening, “however did you know?”
“Gee, I don’t know,” you said sarcastically, shrugging. “Maybe because you decided to even dress like a freaking watermelon for Halloween? And because you completely weeded that bag of Dum-Dums ― the one you were supposed to be handing out to the trick-or-treaters ― of watermelon lollipops? I could hear the kids complaining all the way down the street!”
“Okay, okay, Y/N,” he admitted, going red in the face. “You… kind of have a point there.”
You sat back with a triumphant smirk, which earned a grin from Hyunjin; within the minute, you both had begun to laugh hopelessly, till tears of mirth gathered themselves in both of your eyes and your sides ached with laughter.
After you’d both gotten your bubble teas, you sat for a while in silence. But it wasn’t the awkward silence that needed an ice-breaker; it was a comfortable silence, where neither of you needed to say anything to enjoy the moment spent in the other’s company.
You were the one who finally broke the silence. “Hey, Hyunjinnie, do you want to try a sip of my bubble tea? I realize, in all the times we’ve come here, you’ve never tried the coconut milk tea, while I’ve never tried the watermelon tea.”
“Sounds fun!” Hyunjin unhesitatingly leaned over, his cheek brushing against yours, as he took a sip from your straw, letting the new flavor soak onto his tongue for a moment before nodding his approval, his eyes lighting up. “Holy moly ― this is good! You have good taste, Y/N!”
You smirked at him before leaning across the table to take a sip of his drink, the watermelon flavor coating your tongue and cooling your throat as you swallowed. “Heck, I could say the same for you, Hyunjin! You might just have passed your obsession with all things watermelon on to me!”
It was a perfect moment, just you and him, peacefully enjoying each other’s company… till the sound of soft sobbing drew your attention away from Hyunjin. Your eyes scanned the bubble tea café till they found the source of the sound.
Minjoo.
And judging by the tears pouring down her face, she’d seen everything.
The color drained from Hyunjin’s face as he jumped up, practically knocking the umbrella off the table as he tried to make his way towards Minjoo, who heaved a sob and took a step back.
“Minjoo!” he yelled. “Minjoo, wait!”
“Minjoo!” You joined him, calling your friend’s name. “Minjoo, it’s not what it looks like!”
“Shit,” Hyunjin muttered. “I’ll… I’ll be back. I’m sorry to cut our outing short, Y/N, but...”
“Go,” you said grimly, your heart hammering with dread as you watched your best friend take off after his girlfriend, only hoping that things would turn out okay.
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I'll let you set the pace 'Cause I'm not thinking straight My head spinning around I can't see clear no more What are you waiting for?
This time, when you woke up at 3:00 a.m., it wasn’t because of your phone, which had remained painfully silent all evening, save for a single text from your boyfriend, asking if you were free for a date that night. You’d declined his offer, sick with worry for your best friend’s predicament. He and Minjoo didn’t ever quarrel, and yet, the last you’d seen them, Minjoo was shouting at him, tears rolling down her cheeks, while he pleaded for her understanding.
Icy fear bubbled in your stomach as you lay awake against the pillows; the room felt uncharacteristically cold. You sighed, finally deciding there was no way you could get to sleep with so much worry gnawing at your mind ― maybe a midnight snack would help. You slid out from under the bedcovers, shivering as the cold air touched your bare legs ― you were just wearing shorts and a t-shirt ― and went downstairs into the kitchen, where you rummaged through the refrigerator and pantry, finding absolutely nothing that fit your cravings. You stretched, going to change clothes into a pink hoodie and black leggings, pulling your hair into a messy ponytail before grabbing your purse, pulling your car keys from them as you went outside into the driveway, opening the door and getting into your car. You started up the engine, waiting for a few moments as the heater warmed the inside, before reversing out of the driveway and beginning the fifteen-minute drive to the local Lotte.
The classical music playing over the stereo did nothing to ease your nagging worry, and all the way there, nausea roiled in your stomach like a vat of acid. You arrived in the parking lot of the supermarket, locking your car before entering the store and going straight to the dairy aisle, grabbing yourself five small bottles of your favorite brand of strawberry milk and paying for them quickly before hurrying outside again, the cover on your arm. You got back into your car, slamming the door shut, and left the parking lot, embarking on your return journey. About five minutes had passed when you suddenly screeched to a halt, pulling over abruptly, the color draining from your face.
A tall figure was staggering around on the curb, a bottle in hand. A very familiar tall figure. Your blood turned to ice as you recognized Hyunjin.
You’d never seen him drunk like this. Come to mention it, you’d never even seen him touch any remotely alcoholic beverage. You got out of your car, your heart pounding more wildly than it had ever pounded in your life, running to meet the boy with a tight hug.
“Hyunjin!” you cried, mingled pain and relief in your tone as you crushed him in a hug, aware that you were shaking from head to toe ― whether it was with anger or fear, you weren’t sure. Probably a mix of both, to be honest.
“Hey… hey, Y/N,” Hyunjin slurred unsteadily, staggering and practically half collapsing on you, leaving you struggling for a minute with the task of supporting his larger weight. He smiled an unfocused smile down at you, wiping the wetness from his eyes. “Whatcha doin’ awake at this late hour, Y/N?”
“I could ask you the same,” you said anxiously, your pulse thrumming with worry. “What happened to you? I’ve never seen you drink before, and suddenly you’re holding a beer bottle and rambling around, punch-drunk, on the streets at…” You glanced at your watch. “...3:15 a.m. Hyunjin, what the fuck is going on here? Where were you? Why didn’t you answer my calls?”
“Minjoo broke up with me.” The boy’s voice was slurred with drinking, his balance completely off-kilter; he sank against you, his tears wetting the collar of your hoodie. “She left me, Y/N. She said she was done, that we were over.”
You were aware that you, too, were crying: crying for the horrible state you’d found your best friend in, for the blame you were allotting to yourself ― crying, mostly, because Hyunjin was crying, and his tears hurt worse than anything.
“Hyunjin,” you whispered, sinking to your knees and letting the male sag against you, his head nestling into your shoulder as he hiccuped and cried as if his heart would break ― which it already had, that night. You wrapped your arms around him, rubbing his back soothingly as he cried it all out, till he had no tears left in him to cry, numb at last.
“Come on,” you murmured, guiding an unprotesting Hyunjin into your car, helping him buckle himself into the passenger seat as you drove home, the quiet classical music and the feeling of your sleeping best friend’s head on your shoulder giving you an odd tingling feeling.
Once you got home, you gently shook Hyunjin awake, letting him use you as a support for his terrible balance. He didn’t shake you off, letting you guide him upstairs and into your room, where you let him grab a change of clothes (you left the room while he changed, coming back in as soon as he gave you the thumbs-up) before collapsing onto your bed. You would have let him use the guest room, but, truth be told, you wanted to keep your eye on him, too scared that he’d do something stupid again. So you went into the bathroom, changing into your typical t-shirt and shorts, before collapsing on the bed beside him, exhausted from the day’s events.
“Y/N?” You couldn’t stop the tear that slipped down your cheek at the sound of Hyunjin’s tired voice, which sounded less slurred and more… him. He scooted towards you, gently tugging your shoulder so you were now facing him, and brushed the tear from your lashes, wiping away the glittering trail the tear had left on your skin.
“Y/N, I’m sorry,” he whispered, wrapping his arms tightly around you, an embrace you returned with just as much fervor. “I’m really, really sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry,” you choked out, the guilt overpowering you. “It’s my fault Minjoo broke up with you. She didn’t like how much time we spent together.”
Hyunjin shook his head. “No, Y/N, this is not your fault. I should have been clearer with her, and anyway...” He hesitated, continuing, “...Maybe it’s not all bad.”
Your eyes widened with surprise. “What?”
Hyunjin flushed slightly. “This might just be the alcohol talking, Y/N… I don’t know anymore. But when you were holding me on the curb, I could feel you shaking. I could hear you crying. And I was getting my snot and drool and tears all over you, and by that time, you probably reeked of alcohol as much as I did. But you still held me. Minjoo… probably wouldn’t have.”
“Come on, I’m sure she―”
“No, Y/N,” Hyunjin interrupted, shaking his head vehemently. “The one time when you were on that family trip in France and I caught the flu, Minjoo came over. She took care of me, but… but I could see the disgust in her eyes every time she saw me throw up or cough up mucus. The one time I cried into her shoulder, she immediately went to change clothes. She’s only there in my highs, Y/N, but you’ve been there all the time. She only knows the happy Hyunjin, but you know the real Hwang Hyunjin.”
“Hyunjin...” Your voice trailed off for a long moment before you managed, “What do you mean?”
“I mean...” Hyunjin took your hands in his larger ones, hesitating for a while before answering, “I mean… or, at least, I think I mean… that in a way, it’s always been you. This was just the universe’s way of showing me. I know I make zero sense, but...”
“No,” you said slowly, his words taking a moment to register. “No, I… I kind of get what you mean.”
Suddenly, it all made sense.
Why Hyunjin and your kiss, all those years ago, had seemed better and more full of life than any that you’d shared with your boyfriend.
Why the first person you called up whenever you found yourself free ― or needed to spill some news ― was Hyunjin, not your own boyfriend.
Why, even if you were spending the entire day out with your boyfriend, you had to steal into the bathrooms at least once to hear Hyunjin’s voice on the phone for at least five minutes.
Why skinship with Hyunjin felt so much natural and easier than skinship with Yongwoon.
Why everyone naturally assumed you two were a couple.
Maybe it was because deep down, that was what you were ― the only difference was that you’d both labeled the feeling as the wrong one, assuming that you were just best friends and remaining oblivious not only to the other’s feelings, but to your own.
“Hyunjin… I’ve spent so many days wondering why none of the kisses I’ve shared with Yongwoon have even come close to matching the one we shared in the seventh grade,” you admitted. “I guess it’s because they were missing the one key ingredient: spark. I won’t deny that I really like Yongwoon ― or, at least, I did, at the beginning ― but he’s just… not right for me, and I’m shocked it took this long for me to realize. He was always trying to steal me away from you, keep you away when we were both together, while you were always ready to share me with him… all to keep me happy.”
“Y/N...” Before you knew it, Hyunjin was leaning closer, and so were you, and you didn’t know how it happened, but suddenly, your lips were pressed against his, and there it was, that spark, the one you hadn’t felt against your lips for five years.
As you both pulled away, you realized the words didn’t need to be said ― the kiss had spoken volumes more than those three simple words. That was the lovely thing about gestures ― they could explain things in ways much more nuanced than even a dictionary.
That night, you fell asleep in Hyunjin’s arms, your legs tangled with his, your heartbeats synchronizing.
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Love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do (like you do) Love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do (yeah) Touch me like you do, to-to-touch me like you do What are you waiting for?
Love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do (like you do) Love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do (yeah) Touch me like you do, to-to-touch me like you do What are you waiting for?
You woke up to the warm sunlight filtering through your window; that was, by far, the most peaceful sleep you’d gotten in the last few days. You stretched, yawning appreciatively, before your eyes fell on the still-sleeping form of Hwang Hyunjin beside you. You smiled fondly, pressing a kiss to his forehead ― he stirred slightly, the corners of his lips quirking upwards ever so slightly ― before slipping out from under the bedcovers, going downstairs to make yourself and Hyunjin some coffee. Right as you’d finished pouring the two mugs, your doorbell rang; you went to open the door, your mug of coffee in hand, and saw Yongwoon standing there, smiling a little sheepishly. “Oh. Hey.”
“I was worried about you,” Yongwoon said, launching right into it with no prior greeting. “You haven’t been yourself lately ― you keep refusing dates, you don’t answer my texts quickly ― I’m worried about you, Y/N.”
Footsteps made you both turn around; Hyunjin was coming downstairs, looking tired but much refreshed after having showered and changed clothes. His smile made your breath hitch; it was funny how liking someone made them even more attractive in your eyes, because before, you’d been able to notice how pretty his smile was, but now, it was as if you’d forgotten, or never fully appreciated, how breathtakingly stunning it was.
Yongwoon’s smile had faded, and he was studying Hyunjin with a frown, furrowing his brow. “Why is he here, Y/N?”
“He stayed the night. He wasn’t… feeling the best, so I thought it best if I took care of him.” Your tone made it clear you weren’t taking any arguments, which simply made your boyfriend even more uneasy.
“I don’t like it,” he said abruptly. “I don’t like it at all, Y/N. I know you call him your ‘best friend’, but as your boyfriend, I don’t like the idea of you being home alone with another guy. I won’t let you―”
“Let me? Let me?” Your eyes widened with incredulity; the anger that burned in their depths caused him to take a step back, surprised. “I only meant―”
“No, I’ve heard enough,” you decided. “You sound like my grandpa. My annoying, patriarchal grandpa.”
“Y/N―”
“This isn’t working.”
He froze, staring at you for some hint that this was just a joke, maybe a very, very early April Fools’ prank. When he saw nothing except seriousness on your face, he managed, blankly, “Y/N, I―”
“Look. Don’t get me wrong, there was a point where I really, really liked you. But that was before I realized, whatever else we had, there was no spark.”
“Y/N!” he protested, taking a step towards you. You took a step back, shaking your head quite calmly ― you didn’t know where all this calmness was coming from, but you were glad for it.
“I want you to be happy,” you said finally. “I don’t think I’m the answer to that. And I don’t think you’re my answer, either. I’m doing this for the both of us. It’d be nice if we could stay friends, but… that’s up to you.”
Yongwoon looked from Hyunjin to you, the realization dawning in his eyes, which flared with anger. He shook his head, simply leaving the house; after a moment, he turned around, pausing, his eyes slightly wet with the reality that he wasn’t yours anymore ― and hadn’t been, for a while. “I don’t know about that, Y/N.”
You hesitated for a long, long while. “Bye, Yongwoon.”
“Bye, Y/N.”
As soon as he’d left, the tears spilled out; now, it was Hyunjin’s turn to hold you as you cried against him, your tears soaking through the thin fabric of his white t-shirt as he guided you to the couch, his arms tight and warm around you as he held you till you couldn’t cry anymore.
“Thanks, Hyunjinnie,” you whispered, looking up gratefully at him. He brushed away your tears, smiling that signature fond smile he reserved only for you, and placed a warm, soft kiss on your forehead, sending that tingling feeling flooding through your body.
And as the first snow of the year began to fall, outside, you wrapped your arms around his neck, your lips meeting his in a burst of warmth.
“I love you, Hyunjin.”
“I love you more, Y/N.”
“No! Stop that, I love YOU more!”
“Y/N! Gah, stop tickling me! I love you most!”
“Surrender already! You know I love you more than most.”
“Yes… yes, I do.”
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andipxndy-writes ¡ 5 years ago
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The Triplets - Rick & Laura
[[Oh my gosh it’s been 5ever since I’ve actually posted anything on any of my blogs on this site. But here I am, back because my muses decided to pop up!
Anyway, I wrote a thing! Basically, in my procrastination, I’ve been reading through a bunch of old threads, and I got really sucked into my threads with @a-simple-rper and fell in love with these characters and their relationships and... well, basically, I was so inspired that this thing got done in, like, a day and a half. Which is probably a new record for me, considering I’ve actually edited through this thing more than once (I never go back and edit, lol) and it’s more than 5.5k words. I’m actually very proud of myself.
So here’s my cute thing! Edited to completion, methinks. Enjoy!]]
The Triplets
When Rick had woken up that morning, he hadn’t known what to expect. Well, he kind of did – Laura in bed beside him, the light of the sun rising filtering through the curtains, a day filled with work ahead of him.
What he did not expect was to wake up to an empty bed, the bedroom door wide open. He frowned as he sat up, stretching and yawning before heading towards the door and out into the corridor. That was strange… Laura usually woke up after he did.
His unasked question of where exactly his girlfriend was, was answered by the sounds of retching coming from the bathroom. His brows furrowed even more at that – Laura hadn’t been drinking last night, so why was she sick? Did she eat something bad? As far as he knew, nothing had been out of the ordinary.
Approaching the door, he knocked on it. “Laura? You in there?”
There were a few seconds of silence, before Rick heard the feeble “yes,” that he knew could only come from his partner. Which was less than comforting.
“What’s wrong? Did you eat something bad last night?” Getting straight to the point was Rick’s favourite mode of action, and he felt that it was definitely important to use right now, considering she didn’t sound all that great.
“N-no…”
Rick waited silently to see if she would elaborate, but when she didn’t say anything further he sighed. This didn’t make sense. Why was Laura sick?
It seemed as if Laura could sense Rick’s struggle on the other side of the door, so she called out, “Door’s open.”
Rick barely hesitated before pushing the door open, trying not to appear too worried as he did so. He wasn’t surprised to see Laura leaned against the toilet, head resting on her arm on the seat. What did surprise him was the weak, tired smile she gave him.
“How long have you been here?” he asked slowly as he moved to sit beside her, rubbing her back. Weird thing was, she didn’t feel that clammy, or hot, so she couldn’t have been ill…
“A couple hours,” she replied, her voice croaky. “It’s been mostly up and down. I feel good for a few minutes and have a glass of water, then I throw it all up again. It sucks. And dry heaving is the worst part.”
Rick frowned deeply at that, the usual slight amount of concern breaking through his normally stoic expression.
“This isn’t the first time it’s happened.”
“What?” He hadn’t been expecting that either. Laura was always in bed when he woke up – he hadn’t noticed her being away first thing in the morning until today.
She nodded. “Yeah. It’s just a little worse today…”
“Do we need to go to a doctor about it?”
She appeared to contemplate the decision, before the small smile appeared on her face. “No need. Though, you might want to grab your phone.”
His eyebrows rose at that, and he waited for her to elaborate, hoping that she’d actually do so this time.
That was when she picked up something that had been sat on top of the toilet cistern and held it up for him to see, and it took him less than a second to realise what it was.
A pregnancy test.
A positive pregnancy test.
“You might want to call your ma about this one. Because it looks like we’re getting a second chance.”
“And how are you today, Ms. Banks?”
Laura shifted slightly on the bed, looking away from the ultrasound scanner and up at the sonographer. “I’m alright, I guess.”
Honestly, though? She was very nervous, and even Rick could see that on her face. The last time they’d been in this situation, it hadn’t turned out well at all – they’d finally got their hopes up, only for it to be ripped away from them for some reason or other. She was scared of it happening again.
Heck, even Rick was scared of it happening again.
This was their second chance, and they didn’t want it to be ripped away from them like before. They were being extra careful now, doing everything the midwife and the doctor had suggested, making sure there was no room for a single thing to go wrong.
The doctor nodded, smiling comfortingly at the couple. “That’s good, that’s good.” She stopped typing at the computer to face the couple fully. “Now, as you know, we recommended you come in earlier than most just to make sure everything’s alright with this pregnancy, considering what happened in the last one. We’ll be asking some more questions, and keeping a closer eye on you too, just to make sure this one goes smoothly. That sound good to you both?”
The pair nodded, and Laura took Rick’s hand, squeezing it lightly.
The sonographer nodded once. “Good. Now, as we’re having an early scan, we’re going to be doing it vaginally, just so we can see everything. Is that alright with you? It requires a bit more prep than just lifting your shirt, and could take a fair bit longer, but we’ll be able to see more and make sure your baby is healthy.”
After Laura nodded her consent, she headed off to the bathroom to prepare for the scan, lying on the bed awkwardly when she was done. She glanced up at Rick, who (for some reason or other) was looking away.
“If you’re doing that to give me some decency, I’d like to remind you of what position I was in for me to end up here in the first place.”
He turned back to her with a slight smirk. “Are you sure it was this one? I’m pretty sure it was another.”
“Are we really going to have to recall back to that night?”
“I think we can do that.”
“Maybe later,” the sonographer interjected casually, causing Laura to blush. Rick coughed slightly to cover up his laugh.
The couple’s eyes were focused on the ultrasound screen as the probe was moved about, getting the necessary image. It took a good few minutes of staring at seemingly nothing, but then the sonographer spoke.
“Aha! Here we go.” She pointed at the screen. “So, here’s your uterus, and that right there… right there, is the foetus.” After a bit more movement on the screen, she paused. “Hang on…”
Rick and Laura frowned at each other, before looking at the doctor.
“Is something wrong?” Laura asked, and she found her hand in Rick’s again, squeezing it. She didn’t want anything to go wrong. It couldn’t be happening again. They’d barely even started…
She found her heart rate decreasing when Rick squeezed back, getting rid of the fear caused by the doctor’s silence.
The doctor didn’t answer for a little while, seemingly focusing on the screen, before she eventually let out a laugh. “Well, you two are in for a real treat.”
Laura blinked at the sudden change in atmosphere. “What?”
The doctor moved the probe again, before turning to the screen. “Right, so here we have a fetus…” She pointed to another position on the screen. “And we have fetus number two…”
“Oh God…” Rick muttered.
“And fetus number three, kind of separate from the other two but still very much present.”
Laura’s jaw hung open, her eyes wide. “Are you… are you serious?”
The doctor nodded, a smile on her face. “Congratulations, you two. You’re having triplets.”
Laura sighed as she looked at herself in the mirror, standing sideways. She’d long since given up on wearing her usual skinny jeans and tight shirts, since she pretty much popped right out of them, but she wasn’t exactly sure how good she looked in the winter dress Kat had bought her. She was big, yes, but this just made her look huge.
“Are you coming down?”
Laura looked over at the door to see Rick stood there, in a shirt and jeans himself. She turned back to the mirror with a sigh. “I will…”
“Our parents are waiting.”
“Our moms are probably just chatting it up whilst our dads just sit there.”
“If you’re here much longer, Sam will be forced to entertain.”
Laura winced. They both knew how much her dad loved Sam.
Then again, her father didn’t know that she was pregnant yet. Her mother knew, and so did Rick’s parents, but she most definitely knew what sort of reaction she’d get from her dad at this. Then again, he either found out now, or when she was literally about to pop.
“Is George here yet?”
“He’s entertaining the twins.”
“Is the turkey out of the oven?”
“Just as you instructed.”
“What about…?”
“It’s all ready, Laura.”
Laura was pleasantly surprised when she felt Rick’s arms around her, a kiss placed on the top of her head before he rested his on hers. She smiled and leaned back into him.
“He’s gonna be mad…”
Rick raised a single eyebrow at her in the mirror. “He’s fifteen weeks too late to complain.”
Laura smirked. “Well, that’s an attitude I haven’t heard from you in a while.”
“It’s just the truth.”
She laughed, kissing what she could reach of his arm before patting his hands so that he let go. “Okay, okay. I’m ready.”
Rick let go of her, taking a few steps back and letting her walk past him to the door. Noticing how her back was straighter, how the way she walked was a lot more confident, he smiled a little.
That’s his Laura.
Lying in bed, arms wrapped around Laura as she leaned up against the headboard, Rick couldn’t imagine a better way to spend a Sunday morning – even if this whole situation was only happening because Laura had demanded it and hadn’t budged until he’d agreed.
Whilst he had his eyes closed, simply resting and enjoying the peace, Laura was reading a book she’d been given at the clinic, flipping through the chapter on 20 weeks. Reading through the various pieces of information, and looking through the various pictures on the pages, she scowled.
“I look like a whale.”
“Hmmm?” Rick opened his eyes when she spoke, looking up at her.
“I look like a whale,” she repeated, still scowling down at the book. “Look at all the women in these photos, Rick. They can probably reach their toes whilst sitting down.”
Rick blinked at her, though his face appeared as blank as ever. What had brought this on? “You’re pregnant with triplets.”
“And I’m a whale.”
“You’re not a whale. You’re pregnant. With three babies instead of one.”
“I feel huge.”
“I’d be worried if you weren’t.”
When she glared at him, he sighed and decided to elaborate.
“You’ve got to be three times as big to fit them all. It’s fine. You’re fine. And beautiful.”
Her expression softened, and she blinked at what he said, blushing. The blush only got darker when he sat up and leaned over to kiss her softly. And then she gasped, pulling away suddenly with wide eyes.
He frowned, concern appearing on his features almost immediately. “What is it?” he asked, trying not to convey how concerned he was through his tone. Had he done something wrong?
“I think… I think I felt a kick.”
It took a few moments for what she said to fully register in Rick’s mind. And then, all of a sudden, it clicked.
A kick.
When Laura saw the small smile beginning to spread on his face, she took his hand and placed it where she’d felt the kick. She knew it was probably futile, feeling for a kick in the same place when the next kick could be anywhere, or not even be felt at all.
She was pleasantly surprised when there actually was a kick in the same place again, right against the palm of Rick’s hand. Looking at him, she didn’t bother stop the laugh coming out at the genuinely surprised expression on his face. Seeing expressions like that, clear on his face without any of his usual restraint, brought her a level of joy that very little could compare to.
Except, probably, the feel of their babies kicking for the first time.
When Rick had first met Laura’s family, it had been pretty awkward to be introduced as her boyfriend. Especially since he was not only much taller than her, but much older and a whole lot more Southern. He was quickly singled out as the odd one out in any family gathering, which he supposed he could deal with. After all, Laura still loved him, and it wasn’t as if her dad hated him for being in a relationship with his daughter, like he did Sam; though, her mother did seem to favour the other a whole lot more than him.
Finding out that she had more extended family, made up of her mother’s sisters and their children, was something Rick thought he would be able to handle. After all, the twins were nice. Their cousins couldn’t be that bad, could they?
He was proven wrong the moment Laura’s mother stepped into the bar with two women he’d never met before.
“Oh, what is that horrid smell?” the older woman asked, wrinkling her nose in distaste as she looked around the bar.
“Must be the drunkards,” the younger responded casually, her eyes focused on her nails. The response caused Jane to roll her eyes before approaching Rick at the bar, leaving the two women to disapprove of the place.
“Rick, how are you doing?”
“Well thanks, Jane.” He looked up from wiping down the counter. “Did you need Laura?”
“We’ll need her in a bit. Probably when Kat gets here.” The smile melted off her face. “As soon as she steps through that door, start us up on a tab. I’m going to need a drink or two to deal with them.”
He simply nodded, tossing the rag onto his shoulder. “I’ll go give her a heads up.”
“Thank you, Rick.”
He gave another nod before turning and heading into the kitchen. He wasn’t surprised to find Laura at the stove, whipping up the next order at a slower speed than usual. Granted, she wasn’t letting her rapidly expanding stomach get in the way of her cooking, but even he could tell that having three babies was draining her energy faster than usual, and reaching for anything below knee height was a struggle for her on a good day. She looked over at him when the door opened, smiling.
“Hey, Ricky, is everything okay?” she asked as she turned back to focus on what she was doing. Even if she looked huge at only 24 weeks, Rick still thought she looked as beautiful as ever.
“Your mom’s here.”
“Oh?” Laura turned to reach for a ladle, lowering the heat on the soup and beginning to spoon it into the waiting bowls. “Did she want something?”
“She’s here with two women.”
“Really?” She paused. “What did they look like?”
“Blonde, like you. She also said something about Kat joining you guys when she gets here.”
Laura was silent for a few moments, before swearing violently under her breath and leaning the ladle on the side of the pot. “Keep an eye on the soup for me,” she muttered as she waddled past him to the door, opening it a little and peeking out. As soon as she spotted her mother, she shut the door quickly and swore again, this time more loudly.
“That’s my aunt and cousin.”
Rick’s eyebrows rose.
“They don’t know I’m pregnant.”
Now Laura’s swearing made sense.
Rick pursed his lips a little as he tried to think of a solution to this. All of them involved Sam, and all outcomes were disastrous. “Do you need someone to stall?”
“My mom knows I’m in here. I’m stuck. Unless I can hide this.” She gestured to her bump.
“That’s 6 months of Rick’s hard work in there,” Sam chirped from the serving window as they approached to deliver orders on their trusty notepad, and take the completed ones to the waiting tables. “You can’t be hiding that.”
“I kind of need to right now.”
Sam blinked at her, before glancing over their shoulder towards the dreaded table. “Is this about the two ladies mom is sitting with? They gave me the stink eye when she introduced me.”
“What they said behind your back must’ve been ten times worse.” Laura groaned and ran a hand over her face.
Rick watched her closely. “Do you need to sit down? You’ve been standing for a while.”
“Probably…”
“Uh, I don’t know whether this is a good thing or not, but Kat just got here and mom is signalling to me to call you,” Sam muttered, a look of genuine sympathy for Laura on their face. “You want me to stall for you?”
Laura sighed, running a hand through her hair and pushing it back before shaking her head. “No, I’ll… I’ll head over.”
Rick nodded, nearing her and kissing her softly. “You’ll be fine. I’m here if you need.”
“That soup is burning.”
He quickly turned to switch it off, causing Laura to laugh as she turned towards the door. Taking a deep breath, she made her way slowly out of the kitchen and towards the table her mother was sat at. Luckily she was approaching from behind her aunt and cousin, facing her mother. She looked incredibly nervous as she reached the table. “Hey, mom, Kat.”
She should’ve expected the scathing comments that were coming.
“Oh, that bastard doorman knocked you up too?” Lara sneered. “I told you, mom, it’s a harem in here.”
Laura spoke before Kat could spit something angrily from where she sat. She could’ve seen the anger boiling from a mile away. “No. I’m dating the barman.”
Lara’s eyes widened. “You mean, that mammoth?”
Her aunt sneered. “Look at you both, having children out of wedlock like heathens. I would’ve thought you taught them better, Jane. This stupidity must come from your husband.”
Jane glared at her sister. “Now, don’t you start, Elizabeth.”
Before anything else could be said, Sam approached the table, the first drinks of the tab on a tray. “Ladies,” they greeted, with their usual grin. When they noticed Laura was standing, though, they frowned. “Laura, you shouldn’t be standing.”
“Oh, and you have an idea on what she should be doing?” Elizabeth asked snarkily, almost glaring at Sam.
They bristled at her tone, but a look from Jane ensured that they said nothing as they placed down the drinks that had been requested earlier, sending Laura and Kat smiles as they left.
As soon as they were gone, Lara scoffed. “What a fool. I cannot believe Katherine stooped to that level. And had little bastards with him.”
Laura had barely blinked before Kat snapped and punched Lara in the face, hard. “Don’t you ever insult Sam or call my children bastards again, you bitch. Otherwise that punch will feel like a tickle compared to what I’ll do to you.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened as Lara reeled back on her chair, screeching and holding her bloody nose. “Katherine!”
“Oh, don’t you start,” Laura sneered, pulling out a chair and sitting down without invitation – her back ached like hell. “I can’t deal with your whining.”
“How dare you speak to me in that manner!”
Before Laura could reply in a sarcastic manner worthy of Allie in one of her annoying moods, her mother spoke. “I think, perhaps, it’s time you took your child and left, Elizabeth,” Jane stated calmly, though the expression on her face was steely and dark. “And you can show yourself out.”
Elizabeth glared at her sister. “If you think that I am lowly enough to be forced to follow your instructions—”
“Is there a problem here, ma’am?”
All five ladies looked up to see Rick stood by the table, drying a glass in his hands with the usual stony expression on his face. Though, Laura could see the anger hidden behind his eyes. And apparently, so could everyone else.
His appearance was all Elizabeth and Lara needed to get out of there, both of them grabbing their bags and walking hurriedly towards the door without looking back. As soon as they were gone, Rick focused on Laura, his eyes softening and his expression concerned.
“Are you alright?”
“I’ll be fine,” Laura responded, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself (and the agitated flutterings of the babies growing inside her) down. “Just need to rest a bit.”
Jane looked guilty as she leaned on the table. “I’d originally come to check on you both before those two decided to tag along… without my consent.” She sent Laura an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
“No, it’s fine, mom. Besides,” Laura grinned at her twin, “I finally got to see the results of Sam’s boxing lessons.”
Kat grinned as she cracked her knuckles. “Oh, sweetie, that was only the beginning.”
Rick gave a small smile as he headed back to the bar, the three women laughing behind him.
If there was one thing Rick hated more than looking ridiculous, it was looking ridiculous in front of other people.
Still, for the sake of his girlfriend and their babies, he sat quietly in the lesson, Laura between his legs and leaning back on him, all four of their hands resting on her now very large bump. Today happened to be a lesson on breathing exercises – and Rick wasn’t sure whether he was looking forward to it.
“Right, now I want you to relax into your partner – think calming thoughts as you slowly breathe out… then in…”
Rick’s hands remained on the bump as Laura leaned back into his torso, her eyes closed as she focused on her breathing.
“Remember, start with a slow breath out to relax your muscles… and think calming thoughts… the stress will only make the pain worse…”
“Did Sam and Kat have to do these…?” Rick asked Laura lowly, leaning down so that only she could hear him.
“If they didn’t, would you make us leave?” Laura muttered back in retaliation.
Rick just rubbed her stomach comfortingly, smiling a little when he felt a couple of kicks. “I’m just saying… they’re pretty uneventful.”
Laura opened her eyes and looked up at him. “What kinds of things were you expecting to do?”
“Stress will make the pain worse, so imagine the stress leaving your body as you breathe out…”
“I don’t know, but maybe something more than breathing exercises…” Rick responded.
Laura scoffed. “Last week you were bouncing the birthing ball like a basketball and commented on all the stupid stuff Sam would do with it if they found it in the bar…”
There was a loud clearing of a throat, and both of them looked towards the teacher, who was glaring at them.
“It would be nice if, after paying for the class, you actually bothered to listen,” she quipped.
“Sorry,” Laura mumbled, and Rick ducked his head, hiding the smirk growing on his face.
The teacher watched them for a few moments, before nodding and continuing with the class. “Now, as I was saying, let the stress flow out of your body like a stream from a spring…”
“You got in trouble with the teacher,” Rick muttered into Laura’s ear with a smirk, and she huffed, pinching his arm in retribution.
“Ass,” she grumbled, though a small smile had formed on her face.
Walking through the supermarket, Laura sighed, leaning heavily on the shopping trolley as she moved. Her feet hurt, her back ached, her hands and feet felt swollen, and she was exhausted near constantly, but today was the only day Rick was willing to leave the bar under Sam’s supervision and go baby shopping with her.
Baby shopping that was taking a whole lot longer than she’d anticipated.
Looking into the trolley, there were a ton of baby outfits and even more diapers there, as well as three baby carriers that could transform into car seats very easily (thank goodness). At that moment, Rick was looking at some strollers, a frown on his face.
“What’s wrong?” Laura asked, sounding pretty much as tired as she felt.
“Three-kid strollers are really expensive…” he muttered, looking between the different types. “What do you think?”
Laura straightened up and looked at the different options available – basically, one. Which was definitely very expensive. “What about a double and a single?” she suggested.
Rick looked over at her. “We’d have to take them on walks together.”
“It’d get you out of the bar more.”
He rolled his eyes at her, before turning back to the strollers. “I guess… but wouldn’t the triplet one be better in the long term?”
Laura opened her mouth to answer when she suddenly felt a discomfort in her lower back, and she leaned more fully on the trolley, breathing slowly.
When Laura didn’t answer, Rick turned around to see her leaning on the trolley. “Laura?” He approached her, rubbing her lower back slowly.
“Braxton Hicks,” she replied, answering the unasked question. “Just real uncomfy right now.”
Rick nodded, before realising she couldn’t see him. “Need to walk around a bit?”
“Yeah, but my back kills…”
He sighed, continuing to rub as she hummed to herself, probably to stop herself from groaning from the discomfort. He had an idea, but he wasn’t sure if it would be allowed… “Want to head over to the sofa section?”
She turned her head to look at him, a frown on her face. “Why?”
“You need to put your feet up.”
“You want us to get kicked out of Wal-Mart?”
“They’d kick out a pregnant woman for resting?”
Laura pursed her lips. Rick had a point… “Okay, help me out…”
Sighing, Rick walked slowly up the stairs, running a hand through his hair. The bar was finally closed for the night, but today had been hectic. The Carter twins had just started Pre-K, because Kat was back to working as a lecturer and Sam worked every day anyway. Except, some kid had turned up at school with chicken pox a week before and now the twins were spotty, itchy and tearful every day, so Kat and Sam had to take shifts taking care of them and making sure they didn’t scratch their skins off.
So he was down a worker.
Then there was the fact that Laura was officially not allowed to be on her feet for more than ten minutes at a time. Which meant that she wasn’t allowed to be in the kitchen – at least, that was how Rick interpreted it, even if she’d fought to get it interpreted differently. Luckily, it had reached the summer, and some kids were on summer break, so Allie offered up the services of her cousin (who happened to be a high school teacher) so that the kitchen could stay open and business could keep bringing in profits. Particularly because it was family season.
The lack of a doorman and the usual chef made it harder for Rick to deal with a shift, considering he also had to do crowd control, and there wasn’t exactly anyone to serve the food (unless that kid who volunteered to help out counted – Rick was pretty sure the kid expected payment for his service).
Now, though, he was looking forward to just relaxing in bed with his woman and letting all the stresses of the day just melt away. Tomorrow, hopefully, Sam would be back for a shift and take some of the stress off Rick, but tonight was a night to relax.
Opening the bedroom door, Rick wasn’t surprised to see Laura sat up in bed, reading with the book set on her bump as she rubbed it fondly. She looked up when she realised Rick was there, and smiled. “Hey.”
“Hey.” He shut the door and approached the bed. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”
“I’ve rested pretty much all day. I’m not that tired.” She rubbed her stomach. “Plus, it’s their playtime apparently. Mama isn’t allowed to sleep.”
He chuckled as he pulled off his shirt, approaching the bed. “Need me to have a talk with them?”
Her expression soured. “You make it worse. Every time.”
“Hey, at least I’ve tried.”
“Your kids don’t take you seriously. You need to sort that out.”
He just chuckled again, stripping down to his underwear and lying down beside her. “Not long before I’ll be able to.”
Being 31 weeks along, the doctors had suggested that Laura only keep pushing until at least 34 weeks before she delivered – it was certain that she wouldn’t be able to carry to full term, but they needed the babies as developed as possible before they took them out and kept them in the NICU until they were healthy enough to survive on their own. Which meant Laura would be stuck on bed rest for at least three weeks.
She’d only been on rest for half a week, and Rick could already tell she hated it.
A nervous expression appeared on her face, and Rick sat up. “Nervous?”
She huffed out a laugh. “Yeah. We’re having three kids. In at least three weeks. What’s not to be nervous about?”
“Remember that you’ll – we’ll – have a support network. We’re not alone in this.”
She smiled widely at that, closing the book and setting it on the bedside table. “Yeah… yeah, I guess…”
He leaned over and kissed her softly, gently cradling her head in his hands as he did so. He rested his forehead against hers as he pulled away. “We’re a team. We can make it work. We can do this.”
She narrowed her eyes at him as she pulled away. “You took that from the antenatal class. You were actually listening?”
“You were the one who got told off for not listening.”
“That was your fault!”
The summer was usually the busiest season for the bar, simply because people were more free to do what they wanted – especially with the kids out of school. Since it had become general knowledge to the regulars that Rick was going to be a dad, Rick more often than not found himself chatting with a dad who had dropped the kids off with the grandparents and was chilling whilst their significant other was at work, and conversations ranged from the sweetest things kids did to the times they literally caused heart attacks, and Rick certainly wasn’t looking forward to the latter.
However, it was when he heard the call that he realised kids started giving heart attacks from before birth.
“Rick!”
His heart leapt into his throat as he shot Sam a look, and the other raced over to take his place at the bar as he ran upstairs to see what was going on. He stiffened when he realised Kat was stood there in the corridor, supporting her pregnant sister.
Her pregnant sister, who was stood with her hands braced against the wall, her face scrunched up in pain and a slowly growing pool of liquid around her feet.
Please let that be pee, please let that be pee…
“Her waters just broke,” Kat explained, rubbing Laura’s back. “She’s been having contractions since this morning.”
Rick’s heart clenched at that. If she’d been having them, why hadn’t they called earlier? He hadn’t been that busy, had he? God, was she in labour?
Oh God, she was in labour.
“Grab the baby bag from our room – it’s under the bed,” he instructed, quickly moving to take Kat’s place in supporting Laura. “Sam has the truck keys.”
“I’ll get it all ready for you.” Kat raced off to do as Rick explained, leaving the pair in the corridor.
Leaning down, Rick kissed Laura’s cheek as he rubbed her lower back and realised her face was wet from tears. “Remember, breathe. Breathe out slow, then in. Don’t panic.”
As Laura began to follow the instructions given in the classes, Rick realised he was also using the breathing technique to keep calm and that his heart was beating twice as fast as usual.
It felt like forever, but Laura eventually relaxed, her breathing returning to normal and her hands unclenching from where they had been scratching at the wall in pain. But the tears kept flowing. Rick leaned down again and kissed her cheeks, letting her know he was still there.
“You ready to move?”
Laura forced out a laugh, still braced against the wall. “Do I have a choice?” She took a deep breath. “And here I was hoping I could hold out for another week…”
“You’re 34 weeks already. You’ve made it far, and you’ve done well. I’m proud of you.”
She smiled at that. “Really?”
He smiled back. “Really.”
She took a deep breath, closing her eyes tightly to stop the flow of tears. “Okay then. Let’s go have our babies.”
Rick could probably count on one hand the number of times he’d got emotional in his life: his first wedding; leaving home; that time with his dad when he was a teen…
But this definitely topped that list.
Staring through the windows to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit, his eyes were focused on three incubators with wires and tubes leading out of them. Inside them, three babies laid, tiny and helpless and premature, unable to breathe without the aid of a machine.
And as helpless and as tiny as they were, and as terrified as he was to now have three tiny lives entrusted into his care, Rick couldn’t deny the overflow of love he felt as he watched them. The emotion was just… so much more than he was used to.
That’s what he would attribute the crack in his voice to as his mother answered the phone.
“Ricky? Is everything alright?”
“Ma…” He smiled, his eyes still glued to his two daughters and son. “You’re a grandma…”
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listentotheshityousay ¡ 6 years ago
Text
roads diverged
After a long joint celebratory dinner with their families on the night of their graduation, Jeremy and Michael steal away and drive an hour up to the Alpine Boat Basin in the Palisades, where it's quiet and near-deserted after sunset. Michael parks the car by the waterfront and they perch on the hood together, half-melted slushies clutched in their hands as they look up across the water at the New York skyline, listening to a chapter of their lives draw to a close in the silence.
“I can’t believe I’m never gonna act in that auditorium again,” Jeremy says. It still feels unreal. “You’ll never drive me to school again.”
“Yeah,” Michael agrees. “But I’ll drive you to tons of other places, because god knows you’re lazy and you never drive anywhere yourself.”
Jeremy pouts. “True, but you can’t chauffeur me around New Jersey all the way from Boston.”
Michael turns to give Jeremy a crooked grin. “You can boss me around when it’s not during the school term, dumbass.” He leans in to nudge Jeremy’s shoulder with his own, his voice dropping to a somber note. “But yeah, you might wanna find somebody else while I’m not around.”
There’s something about that statement that feels like a door slammed in his face. He can’t tell if it’s Michael’s tone, or the words, or the thought of not having the familiar cadence of Michael’s voice in his daily life anymore, but it makes Jeremy want to recoil. “I think I can manage on my own,” Jeremy says instead, mirroring Michael’s posture to lean against him, their arms pressing together. “But I’ll miss you. And not just because it’s nice to have you drive me places.”
Michael tips his chin up, gazing towards the stars for a long moment before he looks back down, an unreadable look on his face as he meets Jeremy’s eyes. “I,” he starts, pauses, then looks away. Clears his throat, and faces Jeremy again with a faint smile. “I’ll miss you too, buddy.”
It feels like an incomplete sentence, something swallowed away before it could become a reality. Like missing a step in the dark. Something important spoken in the spaces between words that Jeremy couldn’t hear at all.
“Ugh, now you’re making me nostalgic, and we’re not even going to college for another two months.” Michael bumps the side of his head against Jeremy’s with a huff. “I swear, you’re gonna see so much of me this summer that you’re gonna be glad to get rid of me by the end of it.”
I don’t think I ever could get sick of you, Jeremy doesn’t say. There’s something fragile about this moment, the aftermath of a silent seismic shift that happened under Jeremy’s feet that he cannot fathom, that makes him think that it’s better left unsaid.
“I’m looking forward to it,” he jokes instead, and laughs when Michael elbows him in the side with a mock-scowl.
The waterfront is chilly, especially because summer still hasn’t quite settled into New Jersey yet, but Jeremy feels overly warm and utterly at home, sitting here under the stars, Michael’s shoulder pressed against his.
-
At the end of summer, Michael pokes Jeremy in the chest after they load the last of Michael’s packed boxes into the backseat of his Cruiser. “I better still be your favorite person when I come back for winter break.”
“Only if you promise that you’re not gonna replace me as best friend,” Jeremy snarks, ignoring the twinge inside his ribcage. He’s all bravado these days, camouflaging his apprehension with false confidence and humor that he doesn’t really feel. It’s been a beautiful summer, full of blue skies and good memories, but he’s felt off-kilter the whole time, like he’s trying to button up his shirt but the first button went through the wrong buttonhole, and he didn’t notice until he reached the bottom.  
Michael laughs. It’s usually one of Jeremy’s favorite sounds to hear, but it rings oddly hollow. “Jer, I doubt I could ever replace you.”
-
College is a whirlwind, with new people and new places and new things all vying for his attention as he stumbles along the learning curve of how to be in charge of his life. He shakes off the homesickness soon enough—Metuchen is only a two hour drive away, after all—but tendrils of it dig into his heart and don’t let go.
“I’m not even sure if it’s homesickness,” Jeremy confesses to his roommate, who likes to get stoned out of his mind and won’t remember this conversation tomorrow. “It’s not our town, or my house, or my dad—I miss them, yeah, but. It’s just one person.”
“My dude,” Drew drawls from where he’s sprawled across his bed, limbs akimbo, and nostalgia slithers through Jeremy’s chest, reminding him of Michael’s tendency to sprawl belly-up across the couch when he’s high. “It’s totally homesickness. Y’know, ‘cause you miss home, and home is where the heart is.”
“What the hell does that even mean,” Jeremy grumbles, because he’s not exactly sober himself, and takes another hit from the joint Drew offers him.
-
“I was kinda worried,” Michael says from where he’s sprawled over his beanbag chair in Jeremy’s bedroom. “I wasn’t sure we’d be okay, you know?”
Jeremy looks up from the infuriating wooden star puzzle Michael’s given him as this Hanukkah’s gag gift. He hasn’t managed to make even a single piece budge. “Dude, you were the one who kept assuring me that everything was gonna be fine.”
Michael flaps a hand at him. “I know, I know. But I wasn’t…” He clears his throat. “I wasn’t sure I’d be okay without you, or something like that.”
Jeremy holds the wooden star in his hands and doesn’t let himself drop it. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” Michael runs a hand through his hair, turning his face away. “But I was okay, and you were okay without me, so—I guess it’s all good. Nothing to worry about.”
Michael’s right. Jeremy had been okay. He’d missed Michael, but it hadn’t cut him off at the knees or lacerated him from the inside-out. He’d been content with weekly video calls and text messages at all times of the day and two-hundred miles between them. There was nothing to worry about.
Except yesterday, Jeremy’d returned to Metuchen for winter break to discover Michael sitting on the front stoop of his house, his bored expression breaking into a beaming smile when Jeremy called his name. And Jeremy’d realized he was home.
He wonders if he should be worried about that.
-
Weeks later, back in his dorm room, Jeremy makes a face at his laptop while Michael laughs at his complaints about Michael’s stupid gift that’s sitting on Jeremy’s desk, unsolved. Jeremy usually picks it up before he goes to bed, measuring the weight of it in his hands as he tries to pulls it apart, and it’s transitioned from a frustrating routine to a frustrating and soothing routine. Jeremy’s not sure he’ll ever solve this without cheating through Youtube.
All the frustration is worth it, though, to see Michael's teasing grin on his screen.
-
There’s a girl in Jeremy’s Anthropology 101 class with shapely legs and a sweet, dimpled smile. When she asks to borrow his notes, Jeremy says yes.
When she asks Jeremy if he’d like to go grab a coffee with her, he says yes.
When she asks would you like to have dinner, just the two of us, Jeremy says yes.
-
"Make sure to walk her home," Michael reminds him over the phone. "Who knows, you might even get a good night kiss."
"You sound more excited than I am." Jeremy looks at the mirror and fusses with his hair one last time. It's strange; his reflection's smile looks like a lie.
Michael exhales a chuckle. "I'm happy for you, dumbass." He pauses. "I really am."
There's a sincerity to his words that makes Jeremy uneasy. Like a door closed in his face. A missed step in the dark.
"I love you too, asshole," Jeremy blusters. The ground feels unsteady under his feet.
Michael laughs, surprised and fond. "I know you do.”
-
When she asks for a goodnight kiss, Jeremy says I’m sorry.
-
The day before his final exams begin, Jeremy solves the star puzzle in a fit of procrastination. He takes victorious photos of the pieces as evidence and sends them to Michael, the satisfaction melting into melancholy as he traces the edges of each piece, his fingertips having memorized them all over the past few months.
“Whatcha gonna do without your nightly routine now?” Drew asks from where he’s been staring blankly at his economics textbooks. “You gonna get a different one?”
“I don’t like puzzles.” Michael’s the one who does. Jeremy’s only ever found them frustrating. Crosswords, riddles, complex math problems—they all only make Jeremy feel stupid.
Drew blinks very slowly. “Then why did you hang onto that one?”
“Because,” Jeremy begins, and then stops. He rethinks his words, the meaning wrapped in them. He starts over. “Because it’s a matter of pride.”
Drew makes an unimpressed noise, his gaze sliding back to his textbook, and Jeremy turns back to his desk, his chest feeling too tight. Everything seems off-kilter these days. He’ll forget it about it every once in a while, only to abruptly regain keen awareness of how it feels like his skin doesn’t fit right or his blood is too warm or he’s been buttoning his shirts all wrong
He could have said the truth. He could have said because Michael gave it to me. The words alone mean nothing.
But the spaces between the words, the way he traced every edge of the puzzle with his fingertips every night, nostalgia humming in his bones—those mean everything.
-
He comes back for the summer to find Michael at the bus station, leaning against the side of his Cruiser with a lazy smile that makes Jeremy’s bones hum louder.
“Man, it’s good to see you.” Michael’s jawline has grown a little sharper with the loss of baby fat, and the slant of his grin looks different now. The crinkles at the corners of his eyes, the slope of his shoulders—they’re the same yet different. It’s the way Michael holds himself, Jeremy realizes. He looks more confident. More relaxed.
“Yeah,” Jeremy says inanely, still staggering from the revelation that Michael’s gone and grown up while Jeremy’s been, well, Jeremy.
When Michael snorts and leans in to wrap him in a hug, the hum in Jeremy’s bones quiets, leaving him to hear the pounding of his heart against his ribcage all too well, and he realizes, fuck.
“I missed you,” Michael says.
Jeremy’s body goes hot all over, and he squeezes his eyes shut, burying his face into Michael’s shoulder as he hugs him back. He hopes his voice is muffled enough to conceal the quaver in his voice. “I missed you, too.”
-
It takes days for Jeremy to process the fact that he finds his best friend attractive and that he might have a crush on said best friend. He’s never been very self-aware even at the best of times, but it’s excruciating to think back to all the obvious giveaways and signs he’s blindly overlooked for such a long time.
He tries not to think about it too much. He pushes it to the very back of his mind, under the metaphorical bed, and doesn’t let himself dwell on it. He doesn’t want to examine his own feelings, where they started, how deep they run, how true they are. He doesn’t want them at all. Michael is supposed to be the one uncomplicated part of his life, his Player One who he can trust no matter what, and the idea of him becoming the one person who could truly hurt Jeremy scares him more than anything.
So he doesn’t think about it. Doesn’t let himself consider it. When Michael’s touch sparks a fire in his chest, he holds his breath and starves it of oxygen. When Michael’s smile makes his heart jump to his throat, he swallows it back down.
Some nights, he lays in his bed and thinks that maybe, one day, this will be something he can laugh about. Something like growing pains, ephemeral hurt soon to be mere bittersweet memory, just a passing ailment that leaves no scars.
That’s the most he ever lets himself think about it.
-
Two days after Independence Day, Michael wheedles Jeremy into going up to the Alpine Boat Basin to watch more fireworks. Jeremy’s seen enough fireworks to last him a year, but he’s seemingly lost the ability to say no to spending time with Michael this summer, so he gives in after a token resistance, making excuses about how the Palisades is beautiful this time of the year anyway.
They arrive early enough to roam the waterfront while the daylight dies across the sky, a cascade of pinks and oranges and reds that bleed into darkness. Michael hauls out his DSLR and takes photos, and Jeremy pretends not to notice the occasional candids that Michael sneaks of him from a distance. Together, they watch New York light up slowly across the water, and then they trek back to the car where it’s parked as close to the water as the parking lot permits.
“It’s been a long year,” Michael says as they wait, perched on the hood of Michael’s Cruiser together, lukewarm bottles of soda clutched in their hands. “You ready for another one?”
“Don’t remind me. Please let me enjoy the remaining six weeks of summer break in peace,” Jeremy groans. “No talking about school until August, remember?”
Michael laughs, amused and carefree, and the sound of it makes Jeremy’s heart somersault in his chest. “Alright, you big baby.”
Before Jeremy can come up with a retort to that, an explosion of bright red explodes above the water. “Oh, wow.”
The display isn’t as grand as the Independence Day fireworks at Papaianni Park, but it’s breathtaking all the same, the lights reflected on the surface of the Hudson River against the backdrop of the glittering New York skyline. Here, there isn’t the swarming crowd or their parents. It’s just the two of them, Jeremy and Michael, sitting under the stars and fireworks, and Jeremy’s goddamn heart rattling in his chest at the lights reflected in Michael’s eyes.
“It’s been a hell of a year, but it wasn’t that bad, right?” Michael asks, his gaze fixed skyward, leaning closer so Jeremy can hear him over the boom of the fireworks. “We came out of it just fine.”
Jeremy forces himself to refocus on the fireworks. Pushes down the urge to mirror Michael’s posture and lean in. Swallows his heart and spits out empty words instead. “I guess so.”
There’s a brief lull in the explosions, like a breath held in anticipation, and just as the silence is sinking in, a burst of gold scatters across the sky, lighting up the sky and the water.
And Michael says, “You know, I had a crush on you.”
Jeremy’s heart nearly stops. “What?”
“Wild, right?” Michael laughs, and the sound of it fractures Jeremy’s heart. “Like, I got a crush on you sometime around the summer after eighth grade? And then it pretty much lasted throughout the whole time in high school. Which sounds incredibly pathetic, now that I’m saying it out loud, because that’s like four years?”
“Four years,” Jeremy repeats, and he can barely breathe around the words. “Until the end of high school?”
Michael finally looks down, a sheepish grin curling at his mouth. “Well, okay, it took me some more time to get over you, but college kinda helped, I guess? And the distance?” He shrugs. “Anyway, it’s old news now, so don’t get all weird about it, okay? I just wanted to tell you. Closure, or something like that.”
All the unspoken words, the ignored feelings, they’re rattling in Jeremy’s chest, climbing up his throat, refusing to be contained under the bed, under the rug, in the recesses of his mind, and he thinks he just might implode from it all.
“So…it’s over now?” His voice cracks, but Michael doesn’t seem to hear the break in the facade through the din of fireworks. “We’re still best friends?”
“Yeah.” A flicker of worry passes over Michael’s face. “That’s okay, right? You’re not weirded out?”
Unable to trust his voice, Jeremy shakes his head, and something in his chest gives away at the relief in Michael’s eyes.
“Thank fuck, I was worried for a hot second there.” Michael throws and arm around Jeremy’s shoulders, leaning his solid, warm weight against Jeremy’s side. “I’m really glad,” he says, and the sincerity in his voice is so suffocating that Jeremy has to close his eyes for a moment.
He shouldn’t say anything, shouldn’t ask, but he can’t help but think that four years is a long time. “How serious was it?”
“What?” Michael blinks, turning to face Jeremy quizzically before he catches on. “Oh, you mean my feelings?” He smiles, wide and bright, and that’s how Jeremy knows he’s about to lie. “It wasn’t anything serious.”
The words might are a sucker punch to the gut, knocking the breath out of Jeremy’s lungs, cracking his chest open. But Jeremy’s always been the better liar between the two of them, so he nods and smiles back, and he watches the last of the fireworks die in the night sky.
-
In the dark, curled up on his bed, Jeremy retraces his steps his steps through tonight. He barely remembers the drive home. It’d been quiet, with occasional banter and Michael’s playlist filling the silence, and Jeremy’s head had been full of static, his nerves buzzing, time blurring. He rewinds past today and through the days and weeks and months and finally looks the truth in the eye.
The truth is, Jeremy’s a fucking idiot. Because it’s not just a crush. It was never just a crush.
He knows now. He knows what it was that Michael didn’t tell him last year when they were at the Palisades, that moment when the first button went wrong, that first missed step in the dark. He knows what he’d felt, warm and at home by Michael’s side, utterly content and too fucking stupid to realize his own feelings. He knows that all the possibility in the world had been at their fingertips that night, had maybe even been possible after that, and if only Michael had been braver, or Jeremy’d dared to examine his heart, they could have walked an entirely different path. They could have been in love together.
But Jeremy had been too scared to be honest with himself, and Michael had been too scared to be honest with Jeremy. And now, the door to that path has been closed in Jeremy’s face, and he’s in love alone.
-
“Hey, you okay?” Michael asks as they exit the 7-Eleven, slushies in hand.
Jeremy had cried himself to sleep and woken up with his broken heart lacerating him from inside-out. He’d washed his face and changed into clean clothes and practiced his smile in the mirror until it’d looked real. He’d eaten lunch with his dad and talked about the fireworks and hadn’t let himself falter when he’d said that it had been a fun night. And when Michael had pulled into the driveway for their slushie run, he’d walked out of the house with steady steps and hadn’t let himself fall to his knees.
“I’m okay,” Jeremy says, and quirks a small smile to convince Michael as they both climb into the car. “Just tired because I couldn’t sleep in the heat.”
Michael snorts. “Wuss. It wasn’t that hot.”
“Shut up and drive.” Jeremy gives Michael a playful shove, and the lingering worry melts away, the tension slipping from Michael’s shoulders, just as Jeremy intended. “You’re my chauffeur, remember?”
“You’re so lazy,” Michael mock-scolds him, but he turns the ignition on and grins. “What would you do without me?”
“I’d survive.” The truth will only hurt them both, so Jeremy will keep it to himself and spare Michael the pain. Even if it takes a lifetime of lying. Even if it means breaking his own heart. “Maybe even drive myself to the mall.”
Michael snorts, his mouth quirking into a wicked grin that makes the hollow cavern of Jeremy’s chest ache. “Sure, Jer, I’d love to see that.”
“I’d be fine without you,” Jeremy lies. He has the rest of his life to make it true.
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