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azsazz · 3 months ago

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Over Ice

Hockey!Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Anon Req: I think we could really have fun with the different courts and Illyrian values on a thematic basis but ALSO if the reader is in something very artsy and hasn’t really been into sports and then she’s walking around Campus and BOOM right smack dab into Broody McBrooder!! She THEN finds out he’s the tutor for one of her hardest courses (personally Psych would be a good one) and they become super duper close with him and the team!!! She decides to wear Cass’ jersey to make him mad and when he finally gets a hold of her after the game: *cue innocent shrug* he asked me to!

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 3032

Notes: While I work on a plot for an azzy hockey x figure skater au, please enjoy a rhys hockey au 🤪

This was originally an Az idea but I thought it fit better for Rhys bby so here we are. I feel like I've forgotten how to write and this is shit (dont judge me im going thru smthin rn)

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A giant FU stares up at you.

Well, actually, it’s only an F, but it may as well be the former with the way it’s circled in thick, red ink.

Three. Fucking. Times.

Tears sting the back of your eyes but you refuse to let them fall. It never feels good, failing, and even if you’d gotten a C+ like you hoped, you would’ve still beaten yourself up over the grade because plain and simple: that’s who you are.

Two months ago, at the beginning of the semester, psychology had seemed like a breeze. The lectures were easy to listen to and intriguing, and you had no trouble following along with the professors’ slideshows as you took detailed notes of everything on the screen. Your assigned readings were completed in a similar state, though they weren’t graded but included important information you’d find on the tests.

Somewhere along the line, your grade slipped, and you don’t remember if it had been between studying for Biology or reveling in your newfound freedom away from your parents, partying and enjoying a true college experience with your roommates.

Whatever happened, the repercussions are hitting you right in the face, the taunting letter you have never seen before on any of your assignments throughout all your years of learning.

If your parents saw this, they would bring the entire house down with their scolding.

It’s not like you didn’t try. You studied, even if the word is a loose term for what material you used. Things started piling up this month, with it being a new semester and all. You didn’t schedule out the time to focus on psychology when the classes you were really interested in—Introduction to Nutrition and Kinesiology—took first and second place for your attention. Plus, with the number of social events your best friends—who are also conveniently your roommates—invited you too, it was almost impossible to say no. Friends are a vital part of the college experience and you were in desperate need of some fun after having spent the summer lounging at home with your parents.

You found a psych support group that met at the library once a week to study together. It wasn’t anything like you thought it would be, a bunch of clueless students with grades similar to yours. All they seemed to want to do with your precious time was bitch and moan about the professor instead of actually trying to conquer the areas of study for the upcoming test.

And now the consequences of your actions have made themselves known.

Grumbling, you shove the test into your binder before shutting it with a snap that does nothing to ease your frustration. A few students still trail from the room, though most bolted right after being released. Some linger at the bottom of the lecture hall where the professor sits, answering their questions.

You have about a million-and-one of your own but you’re too worked up about your grade to go down there and hash it out with Mr. Hybern. His peppery colored hair is perfectly coiffed on this terrible day, his beard trimmed close to his jowls. His gleaming, golden skin makes you think that maybe he’d spent his weekend grading tests out in the sun, and you have half a mind to stomp your way down the stairs and demand a second review of your test.

It wouldn’t solve your irritation, and it would certainly be embarrassing if in fact your F is correct.

Placing your binder, notebook, and pens back into your bag, you zip it, sling it over your shoulder, and make your way to the exit, holding your chin high because if there’s one thing you’re not going to do, is cry over your terrible, awful grade in public.

The waterworks will just have to wait until you’re locked in your private bedroom in your shared dorm.

There is good news. It’s Friday, which means you can snag the pint of your favorite ice cream that your roommates won’t dare touch because ‘no ice cream that’s worth it should have fruit in it, that’s like asking for a steak on your spaghetti.’ You have no idea what Mor—one of your roommates—was on about when she brought up the awful comparison, and in reply all you’d done is scooped out a chunk of cherries embedded into the creamy, pink goodness and stuffed it into your mouth.

With it being the weekend, you can also wallow well into the night without having to worry about hiding your puffy eyes in the morning. You’ll have all day tomorrow to figure out a plan of action, once you allow yourself the time to properly grieve and process…and maybe have a drink or two.

You shoulder through the heavy lecture hall door with your head down, hiding the red stain to your cheeks. So, maybe you’re not going to hold you head high as you trail back to your dorm, but you will not cry.

The door swings open and you barely catch the noise of surprise before you’re barreling into something that’s akin to a brick wall. Your breath leaves your body in a whoosh and your balance slips out from under you, arms flailing as you fall.

You squeeze your eyes shut, bracing for impact, but it never comes.

Slowly, mortified because you know exactly what’s cushioned your fall, you peek your eyes open, carefully meeting a sapphire gaze that surely would take your breath away should you have any left.

This close, you can see the perfection of his angular features: a long, straight nose, high cheekbones under the dusting of pink that caresses his own face. His lashes are dark as charcoal, the same color of his hair that looks as soft as silk.

Whatever it is that has you entranced by his beauty, the sentiment seems to be mutual. Those bright eyes trace across your features, carefully drinking you in. You don’t know if you’re thankful that your face is already as red as the marker on your test or if you want him to see the way your cheeks go molten.

There’s a warmth against your hips that you don’t notice until he speaks, his hands that have a solid grip around you, keeping you steady to his chest. His whispered breath brushes across your lips. “By all means,” he teases softly, “Take your time.”

“Oh, my Gods, I am so sorry,” you squeak, rolling off his chest. You can hear his chuckling as you scramble to climb to your feet, but your knees are so weak at the sight—and touch—of the most handsome man you’ve ever seen lifting gracefully to his feet, holding a hand down to help you up.

You try not to notice just how big his hand is in yours, and for the second time today, you fail.

“Don’t worry about it, darling,” he says, displaying an easy grin that makes your heart stutter in your chest. The door opens with a loud click and the both of you startle. His hand comes down warmly on your spine, ushering you out of the way of the student that’s beaming grin falters into apology at the idea of almost running you down, already on the phone with someone and gushing over their test result.

It’s hard to reign in your glare.

The student’s conversation seems to jolt the man out of his stupor. He blinks, shaking his head as if to rid him of a spell you might have cast on him, or maybe he’s testing to see if he has a concussion from the fall.

When he returns his attention to you, it takes everything in your power not to melt into a puddle beneath that gaze.

“Is Mr. H still passing out tests?” he asks, and you swallow the sourness that accompanies the name of your professor. You and he are not on good terms right now, not that this boy knows that.

“Yeah,” you answer, remembering you saw him sitting on his throne (desk chair) with his loyal citizens (students) kissing his feet (talking through their tests). “I think so.” Then, because you’re pretty sure you would remember a face like his if he were in your lecture, you ask, “Are you in this class?”

“No,” he answers with a scoff that tells you he breezed by this class. “I took Psych 101 freshman year, but I have Professor Hybern again for Cognitive Psychology and I need to turn in my paper early.”

Turning in a paper early? What is he, some kind of genius?

“Oh,” you answer lamely, “Cool.”

His answering grin cracks open the casing of the butterflies you didn’t know were living in your stomach, taking off in a flurry of emotion.

He shrugs like he couldn’t really care less about any of it, but to you, the fact that he’s managed to pass Psych 101 at all is an impressive feat, though you don’t know why he’d sign up for even more torture. “Sure. Look, I’ve got to run, but are you sure you’re okay?”

It’s nice of him to ask if you’re okay when he’s the one who had his back painted to the floor only moments ago. “Yeah, I’m fine, but I should be the one asking you that. Are you okay?”

His laughter is rich and warm, and you want to melt into it. Before you have the chance to make even more a fool of yourself in front of this handsome stranger, he answers. “I’ve been checked harder, darling. You have a nice day now.”

“Thanks, you too,” your words trail off as he catches the door on its next outswing, ducking inside without waiting for your response.

Jeeze, he must really be in a rush, then.

It’s when you exit the doors to the psychology building that you curse yourself. You should’ve gotten his number, his name at least. You could’ve invited him over for something more distracting and yummier than the ice cream you’d planned on demolishing.

At least you have something better to think about tonight than your test.

With a heavy sigh, you allow your backpack to fall off your shoulder. Now that you’ve arrived back to your dorm, you’re suddenly feeling more exhausted than ever.

The walk home from class had been nice, your time spent thinking about the boy you’d run into. The broadness of his shoulders you didn’t seem to notice until he turned away, stretching wide beneath his tight t-shirt. The bulge of his biceps beneath said t-shirt, flexing as he pulled the door open for himself. The shape of his ass in those snug jeans.

The sight of that is what had your eyes nearly popping from your head. What’s he doing that gives him such a bubblicious ass? Squats? Lunges? You can do those. You choose not to, but if there’s a guarantee that you’d have an ass like that, you’d start right this second.

Tucking your lip into your mouth in concentration, you plant your hands on your hips, making your way to the refrigerator that your ice cream is housed in, lunging your way there.

It’s not that far, the communal space in your shared dorm is small, but your heartrate is elevated by the time you’re two lunges away from your prize: your ice cream.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Mother!” You shout as the voice of your roommate breaks your concentration. Your knees wobble and your thighs shake, unable to hold you up from the burst of exertion you used. You clearly need to get into the gym more, another thing to add to your already busy schedule. “You scared me!”

Mor rolls her chocolate-brown eyes, sliding into one of the stools at your counter. It’s not built for it, the laminate countertop doesn’t hang over the island far enough for your legs to fit, but you and your roommates thought they were cute, nonetheless. You can suffer having to hunch over your knees to reach your cereal bowls in the mornings in favor of having more space for company to sit.

When you haul yourself off the ground, you take in your roommate. She’s wearing some kind of jersey, one you’ve never even seen in her wardrobe before, and you probably spend more time in there than her because she has every item of clothing you could ever imagine. The top she’s wearing now totally clashes with everything that screams Mor: silk scarves, tight bodice tops, leather pants, and what she has on now isn’t even red, a color that’s a staple in her closet.

“Well, if you were paying attention,” she scolds playfully, flipping open the compact in her hand, checking her makeup in the tiny mirror. She makes a few faces that would make you chuckle if you didn’t notice how she looks like she’s ready to go out, and that means she’s going to try to drag you with. “You would’ve heard me walk into the room. I am wearing heels, you know.”

Of course you know. Mor doesn’t do sneakers, only when it’s five in the morning and the sun is still sleeping, the perfect time for working out where nobody will catch her. Maybe I should join her, you think, mind wandering back to that boy’s butt.

“Why are your cheeks all red?” She asks, planting her palms on the counter and leaning towards you, eyes narrowed in inquisition.

“Nothing,” you wave her off, reaching for the door to the freezer. It’s the last thing between you and the cherry chunk ice cream calling your name.

Before you can open it more than an inch, it slams closed, Mor’s sharp, bright red fingernails splayed out to stop you.

Damnit, how does she move so silently?

“What do you think you’re doing?” You question each other at the same time, biting back your smiles at the mistake.

She answers first. “Why do you look like you’re about to get the ice cream, put your pajamas on, and wallow in bed all night?”

“Because that’s exactly what I’m going to do,” you cross your arms over your chest defiantly. “So, if you’ll excuse me…” You trail off, hoping she’ll step away and leave you to your peace.

She doesn’t. That’s not Mor.

“I had a rough day!”

“You say that every day,” she whines, stomping her heel-clad foot. “Don’t you even want to know what I’m inviting you to tonight?”

“From the look of your clothes, no, I don’t want to know what you’re doing tonight, Mor, and no, I don’t want to join you, either.”

Your roommate scrunches her nose, tipping it towards the ceiling. “I’ll have you know that this outfit is cute.”

“Yeah, if the definition of cute changed to ‘not pleasing or appealing to look at.’”

“You take that back,” Mor shouts, full naming you.

As your lips part in apology, because that was rude of you, your other roommate pads out of her room. Her reading glasses are perched up on her nose, blue eyes round and wide, and it always looks like she’s looking around the room in wonder. She has a blanket thrown over her shoulders and looks every bit of cozy you wish you were.

“Gwyn,” you sigh in relief at the sight of her. “Please, help.”

“I already said no,” she offers you a sympathetic wince. “I don’t think there’s any getting you out of the hockey game, sorry babe.”

Now it’s your jaw that falls to the floor. No, it falls through the floor and about five more floors down, hitting the lobby with a crack that echoes through the building.

You whirl on Mor. “Hockey game? Since when have you been interested in hockey?”

“Since my cousin got named team captain this year,” she says smugly, and you don’t know why she’s acting vain, it just means that he’s captain of the douchebags now, even you know that. Mor turns, showing off the back of her jersey. The number one stands out like a beacon, and you brush her blonde hair over her shoulder to read the smaller patches spelling out what is in fact, her family name.

Cunningham.

“Think of all the parties we’ll get into,” she says over her shoulder, and she does have a point there. The athletes at your college are a group of students that you don’t ever interact with, nor do you care. Mor is all about connections though, and if she wants to go to the hockey game, then it looks like you’re going with her.

You wonder what excuse Gwyn used to get out of it. She looks mighty comfy right now, slinking over the plop down on the couch and turn on a movie.

“Why do we have to go to the game? Can’t we just go to the parties?” You ask, grasping for anything to get out of this. You don’t want to go sit in the cold arena and watch a bunch of guys wearing full-body padding slide up and down the ice. Why couldn’t her cousin have been on the baseball team? They have nice, tight uniforms.

“Because,” Mor emphasizes with a glare, spinning to face you once more to give you the full effect of her irritation. “I’m a good cousin, and if we don’t attend the games, we’re going to be blacklisted from the parties,” she grumbles, the fight leaving her a little bit. “I’ve already argued about it with Rhys, I don’t want to have to argue with you too.”

It’s with your sigh that Mor brightens. “Fine. I’ll come with you, but I’m not going to be happy about it. And don’t expect me to cheer.”

Her squeal pierces the sound barrier. What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

Mor grabs your hand, dragging you towards the empty single room that’s left in your dorm. She uses it as an extension of her closet until someone else gets placed with you. So far, you’ve been lucky, living here since freshman year, just the three of you. “Great! I got you a shirt!”

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Over Ice Taglist:

#rhys x reader #rhysand/reader #rhysand x reader #rhysand #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #acotar au #rhysand hockey au #over ice

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the-winter-spider · 6 days ago

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Invisible | Part Eight

Pairing: Bucky x reader AU

Word count: 3.7k

Warning: Angst....

A/N: first of many fights <3 also your comments make my day

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You walk into the apartment, the excitement from your date still buzzing faintly inside you—until you spot Bucky sitting on the couch. His eyes immediately flick to yours, his expression unreadable, and just like that, any leftover thrill from the night vanishes, replaced by an ache that settles heavily in your chest.

It’s the first time you’ve been alone with him all week, and for a second, neither of you says anything. Then he stands, clearing his throat. “So… how’d it go?”

His words reignite the frustration you’ve been holding back since last week, since his careless comment at the bar. Instead of brushing past him like you’d planned, you stop, crossing your arms and staring at him, letting your words come out sharper than you intended.

“Good. It was a great date, actually,” you say, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Dean was a total gentleman, and wouldn’t you know it—I handled a real date just fine.”

A flicker of regret crosses his face, but he quickly looks away, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “That’s… that’s not how I meant it. I don’t know why I said that, and you know I’d never hurt you on purpose.”

You laugh bitterly, the sound echoing in the stillness of the room, as you shrugged off your coat, placing your keys and phone in the dish. “Really, Bucky? Because lately, that seems like the only thing you’ve been doing—hurting me.”

His gaze snaps back to you, his expression hardening. “You really want to do this? Just… hash everything out right now?”

You throw your arms up, the frustration boiling over. “Why the hell not? It’s not like things have been getting any better with us pretending everything’s fine!”

He steps closer, his jaw tight. “Fine. Let’s talk about it. Let’s talk about that night, then.” He pauses, his voice dropping as his eyes bore into yours. “Why did you leave?”

You freeze, caught off guard. “What… what do you mean?”

He takes another step toward you, anger and hurt evident in his face. “You know exactly what I mean. After that night at the party, after we… after we slept together. Why did you leave without a word? I woke up, and you were just gone.”

Your pulse quickens, emotions swirling in a chaotic mess inside you. “Are you kidding me, Bucky? Did you even want me to stay?”

He lets out a hollow laugh, the sound filled with disbelief. “What are you talking about? Of course I did! You’re the one who walked out, not me!”

The anger rises, mixing with all the hurt and confusion you’ve buried over the years. “I left because… because I panicked, alright? You had this reputation, Bucky, and everyone knew it. I thought… I thought you’d wake up, regret it, and hate me for being just another one of your mistakes.”

His eyes widen, a mixture of anger and disbelief flashing across his face. “Do you really think that little of me? You think I’d just… forget about you? You’re my best friend, for god’s sake. We’ve known each other since we were kids, and you thought I’d throw that away for just sex?”

“Oh, so it was just sex, huh?” you snap, bitterness dripping from every word.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it!” he shouts, frustration evident as he rakes a hand through his hair, his voice breaking slightly. “God, you have to know it was more than that!”

You cross your arms tighter around yourself, trying to hold everything in. “I don’t know what I thought, Bucky. But I knew I couldn’t stand being something you regretted. I wasn’t going to sit there and wait for you to decide whether it was worth anything to you.”

He stares at you, hurt and frustration radiating from him. “All I’ve ever done is care about you. Everything people said about me, all those rumors—they were just that. Rumors. I thought you of all people would know that.”

You look away, fighting the sting of tears in your eyes, but he steps closer, his voice rising. “Do you know how much it killed me? You left me there like it meant nothing.”

“Maybe it didn’t mean as much as you think it did!” you shout back, anger overtaking the sadness. “Maybe that night wasn’t some big, life-changing moment for either of us. Maybe it was just a mistake!”

His face crumples slightly, like you’ve slapped him, and his voice drops, filled with hurt. “Is that really what you think?”

You hesitate, the words burning in your throat, but you nod, unable to back down. “I… I don’t know, Bucky. All I know is that I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep waiting around, trying to read between the lines, hoping you’ll finally decide what you want.”

He steps back, his face hardening, his voice cold. “Then maybe you should go. If you’re so tired of being here, if I’m such a disappointment to you… maybe it’s better for both of us if you’re not here.”

Your heart clenches painfully, but you force yourself to nod, swallowing back the tears. “Fine. If that’s what you want, then I’ll go.”

“Go, then!” he yells, his eyes flashing, and you can see the unshed tears there, barely contained. “Get out. Do whatever you want—I don’t care anymore. Just… leave.”

For a moment, you just stare at him, the weight of his words crashing over you like a wave. Then, without another word, you turn on your heel, your hands shaking. You feel the tears spilling over as you open the door, but you don’t let yourself look back, slamming it behind you, the sound echoing painfully through the empty apartment.

The chill of the night air bites into your skin as you walk through the dark streets, the city lights casting a glow around you, making the world feel almost surreal. You’re shivering, partly from the cold and partly from the adrenaline that’s kept you moving since you stormed out of the apartment, leaving behind your coat, your phone—everything. You feel like you’re walking through a dream, or maybe a nightmare, your heels clicking against the pavement in the silence.

It’s only after you’ve been walking for a while, the shock wearing off, that you realize the closest place you can go is Steve and Sam’s. You pick up your pace, arms wrapped around yourself, mascara streaking down your cheeks as the wind stings your face. It’s late, nearly ten o’clock on a Saturday night, and as you walk you can’t help but worry. What if they’re not home? What if you just end up standing outside in the cold, with nowhere to go?

You finally reach their apartment building and practically rush up to their door, knocking, then pressing your ear to the door, hoping you hear movement inside. The minutes feel like hours, and you’re starting to feel that familiar rise of panic, the one that tightens your chest and makes it hard to breathe. Just as you’re about to give up, you hear footsteps on the other side.

The door unlocks, and then it opens, revealing Steve.His face shifts from confusion to shock as he takes you in. “What the hell happened?” he asks, voice thick with concern as he quickly pulls you inside, shutting the door behind you. “Are you okay?”

The second you’re inside, the warmth of the apartment breaks down whatever wall you were holding up. You start crying, and without a word, Steve wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you sob against his chest.

After a moment, he gently guides you to sit on the couch, his hand rubbing your back in slow, soothing circles. But as you pull away, wiping at your smudged makeup, you see the worry in his eyes shift to something sharper, angrier.

“Wait,” he says, frowning as he looks you over again. “Where’s your coat? And your phone? You didn’t just walk all the way here without anything, did you?”

You sniffle, still catching your breath, and nod, the hurt fresh all over again. “I left everything at the apartment,” you manage, voice shaky. “I just… I couldn’t stay there, Steve. Bucky told me to get out. He told me to leave.”

Steve’s face falls in shock, his mouth opening slightly as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “He… he told you to get out?” he repeats, trying to process it. “And then just let you walk out? At this hour? Without your things?”

You nod, tears spilling down your cheeks as you cover your face. “I don’t think he… he was just so mad, Steve. I was too. He didn’t care. He just… told me to go.”

Steve lets out a sharp exhale, struggling to contain his anger. “That’s no excuse. I don’t care how mad he was, he should’ve never let you leave like that. He should’ve checked on you, at the very least. Damn it…” He reaches out, squeezing your shoulder with a mix of anger and worry. “You should have called me. I’d have come to get you in a second.”

You offer a small, broken smile through your tears, still trembling. “I know… I just… wasn’t thinking clearly.”

He shakes his head, his hand still on your shoulder, his gaze intense and filled with concern. “Don’t apologise. You have nothing to be sorry for.” His voice softens, his anger giving way to a fierce protectiveness. “I just can’t believe he let you walk out alone. It kills me that you felt like you had to do this.”

He squeezes your shoulder, his voice soft. “Do you want to talk about it, or just… sit for a while?”

You let out a shaky laugh, still catching your breath. “I don’t even know what to say. Everything just… came out. All these things we’ve been avoiding saying, and… I don’t know. I didn’t think it’d hurt this much.”

Steve nods, a sad, sympathetic look crossing his face. “Sometimes… those things we avoid saying are the things that hurt the most. Especially when it’s someone we care about.”

You feel a tear slip down your cheek, and he reaches up, brushing it away gently. His eyes are soft, filled with an empathy that makes you feel a little less alone. “Thank you, Steve,” you say, your voice barely a whisper.

You lean into him, letting yourself sink into his warmth, and he pulls you close, wrapping an arm around you again. The adrenaline finally ebbs, exhaustion taking its place as you relax in his embrace, feeling safe for the first time since you left.

You close your eyes, and before long, you start to feel them grow heavy, your breaths slowing as you begin to drift off on Steve’s shoulder.

A few minutes later, Steve’s phone vibrates in his pocket. He carefully shifts, trying not to disturb you, and pulls it out to see a message from Natasha: Hey, have you heard from her? She hasn’t updated me on the date, isn’t answering her phone, and I’m getting worried.

He sighs, glancing at you before typing back, She’s here. She walked from the apartment without her phone or her coat. She and Bucky got into it, pretty bad, ive never seen her like this.

Natasha’s response is almost instant: Are you kidding me? followed by a string of angry emojis.

Steve takes a deep breath, looking down at you as he types out another message, this time to Bucky, his fingers pressing the keys harder than usual: She’s here. Alone. No thanks to you! Without her things. And you let her walk out like that? What the hell were you thinking?

He sends the message and then texts Sam, who’s still out with coworkers, letting him know to be quiet when he comes home because you’re sleeping on the couch. A moment later, Sam replies with a string of question marks.

Steve glances down at you, tucked against him, your breathing even and steady now, and sighs before typing a final message to Sam: I’ll explain everything later.

Steve sits on the couch, holding you gently as you fall asleep against him, your breathing soft and steady now, a world away from the state you were in when you first showed up at the door. He glances down at you, feeling a pang in his chest as he takes in the remnants of your makeup, smudged from the tears you cried on his shoulder, and he’s struck by just how much he hates seeing you like this—hurting, broken down, all because of Bucky.

Yet, selfishly, there’s a part of him—deep down, hidden from everyone, including himself most days—that’s grateful you came to him tonight. He knows it’s wrong, knows it’s just his heart betraying him again, but he can’t help it. He’s loved you since junior high, since you were both just kids fumbling through life, figuring out what friendship meant. And over the years, that love has only deepened, becoming something he never talks about, never even lets slip. He’s had to sit on the sidelines and watch as you poured your heart into Bucky, hoping one day he’d finally open his eyes and see you the way Steve does.

You deserve everything in the world, Steve thinks. Someone who’ll give you the love you’ve always deserved, who wouldn’t leave you standing alone in the middle of a dark city street, heartbroken and afraid. But instead, you’re stuck in love with someone who’s too scared to do anything about it, and Steve… he’s just the friend you come to when it all falls apart.

A tear slips down his cheek, and he wipes it away quickly, forcing a silent, bitter laugh at himself. You’re his Bucky, he realizes painfully, and he’s you—watching, waiting, knowing you’ll never see him the way he sees you. It’s a cruel irony, and he hates himself for even thinking it.

Just then, the door creaks open, and Sam steps inside, blinking in surprise as he takes in the sight of you curled up against Steve, your tear-streaked face softened in sleep. He gives Steve a puzzled look, eyebrows raised, and Steve just raises a finger to his lips, shushing him. Carefully, he shifts out from under you, gently laying your head on the couch cushion and covering you with the throw blanket. He watches you for a moment before standing up and walking over to Sam, who’s now leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed.

“What happened?” Sam asks, his voice low as he eyes Steve with concern.

Steve rubs the back of his neck, sighing. “She showed up about an hour ago, just… wrecked. Crying, shivering at the door. She didn’t have her phone, her keys, or even a coat.”

Sam’s eyes widen. “What? Why didn’t she have her stuff?”

Steve’s jaw tightens as he answers, anger simmering in his voice. “Because Bucky told her to leave. They had a huge fight, and he just let her walk out like that. She came here on foot, alone, and he didn’t stop her. Didn’t even check if she had what she needed.”

Sam lets out a long breath, running his hands down his face in frustration. “Are you kidding me? That guy is such an idiot sometimes.”

“You don’t think I know that?” Steve mutters, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. “I thought he was supposed to tell her how he felt. I thought he was ending things with Kate.”

Sam shakes his head, exasperated. “I know. I thought that was the plan too. Just last week, he said he was done with the excuses, that he was going to finally tell her. I don’t know what the hell’s holding him back, but tonight… she had her first date in years, Steve. She was supposed to have a good night, for once, and instead, she’s here, like this.”

Steve’s gaze shifts back to you, his heart aching as he watches you sleep. “I don’t get it. If he cares about her like he says he does, why does he keep doing this to her? Why won’t he just be honest?”

Sam sighs, shaking his head as he leans against the counter. “I don’t know, man. But she was so happy earlier. Right before her date, and she just… she was glowing. I hadn’t seen her like that in a long time.”

“Yeah,” Steve murmurs, a sad smile tugging at his mouth. “And now… now she’s back to this, all because of him.”

Sam lets out a deep breath, crossing his arms. “Maybe this is a turning point, though. Maybe some good can come from this mess.”

Steve frowns, glancing back at him. “How could this possibly be a good thing?”

Sam gestures toward you, curled up on the couch. “Maybe some space between them will be good for both of them. She can finally see that she deserves better than this back-and-forth, and he can realize what he’s throwing away. Maybe it’s what they both need.”

Steve sighs, looking down, his voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah… maybe.” But as he stares at you, asleep on the couch, he can’t shake the quiet ache in his chest, wondering if you’ll ever see that someone’s been there for you all along.

---

The next morning, Steve steps out of his room to find Sam already up, leaning against the counter with a mug of coffee in hand. Sam glances toward the couch, noticing you still curled up, fast asleep, wrapped in a throw blanket.

“She’s still out,” Sam says quietly, nodding in your direction.

Steve looks over at you and nods. “Yeah, she must've been exhausted,” he says softly.

Sam takes a sip of his coffee, watching Steve for a moment before asking, “You gonna skip your run today?”

Steve glances back at him, then shakes his head. “I can miss a day,” he replies with a shrug, moving into the kitchen and grabbing things from the fridge to start breakfast.

Sam watches him, setting his mug down on the counter. “Look, man… this can’t be good for you either.”

Steve pauses, glancing at Sam. “What do you mean?”

Sam gives him a pointed look. “Come on, you know what I mean. You, being in love with her all these years.” He lowers his voice slightly, glancing over at you again. “Just… I don’t want to see any more of my best friends getting hurt, alright?”

Steve sighs, his shoulders tensing slightly. “Keep it down, Sam. She’s literally right there.”

Sam sighs too, his tone gentler now. “I’m just saying, Steve, you can still be a good guy and a good friend… while protecting your own heart. I don’t want you to keep waiting around and getting hurt.”

Steve nods slowly, resuming his work in the kitchen. “I know what I’m doing, Sam. Trust me. It’s been years of this. I’ll be fine.”

Sam gives him a skeptical look but just shakes his head, muttering, “Whatever you say, man.” He reaches for a mixing bowl, getting ready to make pancakes. A few minutes pass in comfortable silence, the smell of pancakes and coffee filling the kitchen.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, Steve sees you beginning to stir on the couch. You stretch, blinking as you slowly sit up, momentarily disoriented, and your eyes go wide as you remember where you are.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Sam says with a grin, turning around to look at you.

“Oh God…” you murmur, running a hand over your face, slightly embarrassed. Everything from last night rushes back in a blur.

“You okay?” Steve asks, concern in his voice as he sets down the spatula.

“Yeah, just a bit of a headache,” you mumble, wincing slightly.

Without a word, Steve gets up and heads to the bathroom, returning with some Tylenol and a glass of water. You give him a grateful smile as you take them.

Sam grins, shooting you a playful look. “Well, you look like shit.”

“Sam!” Steve yells, half-scolding him, but you just laugh, shaking your head.

“Thanks,” you chuckle, swallowing the Tylenol. “I feel like it, too.”

Steve sits beside you for a moment, watching as you sip the water. Sam looks at you thoughtfully, then says, “You should go take a shower. I bet it’ll help clear your head.”

You nod, biting your lip. “I would… but I don’t exactly have anything to wear.”

Steve immediately jumps up, nodding toward his room. “I’m sure I can find some clothes that’ll work for you. Hold on.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, looking at him with a hint of embarrassment.

“Of course,” he says, smiling warmly. “Anything for you.”

He heads down the hall, and you follow, feeling a little lighter with each step. Once in his room, he digs through his dresser and hands you a pair of sweatpants, a soft T-shirt, and a towel. “Use whatever you need in the bathroom,” he says gently, his gaze warm and steady.

As he’s about to turn and leave the room, you stop him. “Stevie?”

He pauses, turning back. “Yeah?”

You give him a small, heartfelt smile. “Thank you. For everything. For always being such a great friend to me.”

Steve’s heart sinks slightly at the word “friend,” the weight of all the things he’s never said pressing down on him. But he musters a smile, nodding. “I’d do anything for you. You know that.”

You give him one last grateful look before heading to the bathroom. Once inside, you close the door and lean against it, letting out a shaky breath as your emotions resurface.

You turn on the shower, feeling the steam rise as you slip out of yesterday’s clothes. The hot water pours over you, soothing your tense muscles as you stand there, letting everything you’ve been holding in pour out.

Your thoughts drift to Bucky, to the fight, to everything that was said, and the words echo painfully in your mind. You wonder if he felt any regret after you left, if he realized how much his words hurt. But then you think about how he’d looked at you, the anger and frustration in his eyes, and your heart twists painfully. It’s a cycle, you realize—a cycle of loving someone who can’t seem to decide if he wants to hold onto you or push you away.

As the water washes over you, you close your eyes, trying to let go of the ache in your chest, but it lingers, a constant reminder of the choice you don’t know how to make.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #sebastian stan x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes au

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phoenixyfriend · 2 months ago

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Heiress of the Count AU

Early in the Imperial Era, Vader is sent along as The Muscle for someone's trade negotiations with what's left of the CIS. There's not much, all told, and they've already capitulated to The Big Ask of submitting to the Empire, but bureaucratic minutiae still need to be pinned down, and they're still cohesive enough that it'll be easier to discuss things like tax rates by meeting with a few representatives than hashing things out planet by planet. Vader doesn't want to come along, but Sidious said he had to (and then laughed).

Once he arrives, he finds out why! The head of the loose coalition of CIS planets is the Countess of Serenno, Asajj Ventress.

Asajj is listed as Count Dooku's primary heir in the will, despite him trying to kill her and her fucking off to be a bounty hunter instead. He still cared? Was fond? He still regarded her well enough to name her as basically his adopted daughter. The line of succession will revert to Dooku's nephew if Ventress doesn't have any heirs of her own, and a good portion of the larger estate did go to him (and some pockets went to Obi-Wan), but the title, castle, fortune, and throne went to Asajj.

She doesn't know what the hell to do with it. But then comes the situation of negotiating with the Empire, and her... cousin? Grand-nephew? Whatever the fuck Dooku's actual blood nephew is. The guy said she had to go because she was the only person around that could claim to be at least somewhat resistant/unintimidated by Imperial lackeys, being a notably powerful Force User with a history of Jedi Kills.

So Asajj is now the new face of what's left of the CIS.

And she's honestly pretty likely to recognize Vader as Anakin, if they're in the same room for a few hours and she's calm enough to try and figure out which idiot is in the massive armor.

IDK where this goes but I think maybe Asajj could pspspsps Vader out of the Empire by mentioning that the nightsisters had a better grasp of necromancy than the Sith, and if Vader really wanted to follow through on whatever it was about immortality that got him on Sidious's side (she's heard Amidala is dead, and the two weren't subtle, though she doesn't mention it), then she's basically the only one left alive that could help him access the right Dathomiri texts to fuck around with dead souls.

Anyway. Countess Asajj. I want to put her in fancy outfits and have an actual noble (Dooku's nephew) as her long-suffering chief advisor.

(The man is not planning to usurp or betray her because she's letting him have a fair amount of power and will probably let the line go back to him anyway, possibly even abdicating after the situation is stable enough that they don't need her Former Sithliness anymore, so like... what even would be the point? Waste of resources.)

#star wars #asajj ventress #anakin skywalker #count dooku #IDK if Jenza's son is canon. doesn't seem like it? but he's relevant. I guess sub in Adan from Legends #phoenix posts #the clone wars

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starlightazriel · 4 months ago

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necessities 1

desc: modern day (fem)reader x classic prythian azriel au, this will be a series of short chapters, fluffy, smutty, cute, probably some angst and or drama cus it's me

inspired by this request

warnings: 18+, this is slightly silly hahaha, reader is a little airheaded/ditsy, reader is an influencer HAHA, this is ridiculous but i'm obsessed, blood, reader has a gun, drugs mentioned, sexual tension, swearing, readers petite and smaller than a human from prythian world, age gap like reader is literally 21 HAHA so hundreds of years

wc: 2.8k

other parts will be found on my masterlist under azriel

one

What the actual fuck?

Is basically all your mind can muster up as you are quite literally dropping through a hole in the earth. You had fucking told Cody that you didn't want to do the video, the pit that had been in your stomach for the past three days had been enough of a warning to you that something was going to go wrong.

And now... Well... What the actual fuck?

You had lost all sense of time the moment everything around you had disappeared. You can feel things whipping at your legs, your arms, your face. Branches? You didn't even know, couldn't tell.

It could have been a minute, or forty five, either way it felt too long... This fall... There was no fucking way in hell you were surviving it. Silently, you said goodbye to your parents, your friends, your family, your followers, your boyfriend who had been the one to get you into this mess in the first place, but still, you loved him, so you had to say goodbye... Surely, you'd be dead soon.

You thought about what kind of internet memorial your followers would make for you, would you get a hash tag? #BringBubblesHome, #RIPBUBBLES, #BubblesForeverInOurHearts

Would they edit angel wings and a halo onto one of your cutest pictures? They fucking better.

When you finally landed your forehead hit a branch with a loud smack, you whimpered softly at the sting. Pain radiated through your lower back and up your spine. You gasped softly, eyes wide as you looked around, blinked, blinked again. You didn't feel dead, but there was no way you could have survived that, was there?

"Am I fucking dead?" Your own voice surprised you, and you tried to swallow, throat so incredibly dry from the fall you had just taken. "Holy shit, where the fuck-" you cut yourself off, there was a stream near by, it looked- It didn't look real, the moss and flowers that seemed to cover absolutely everything, the green of the leaves and the ferns had to be the most vibrant green you'd ever seen in nature. You shook your head, trying to remember if you had taken any psychedelics lastnight that you hadn't remembered.

You shook your head again, shaking the thought off with it. No... No you hadn't taken anything lastnight.

So this... This was real?

Something snapped in the already too quiet woods, and your heart beat quickened. Okay what do I have? You thought, ripping your Louis Vuitton tote off of your shoulder, at least, with this, you'd have a chance at survival. You quickly dumped the contents out onto the grassy surface so that you could take an inventory of all your necessities. This was kind of like Man vs Wild, right?

Warm blood trickled from your head wound, you felt slightly dizzy, your stomach turning at the red on your hand. You gasped softly, wiping your head with a makeup wipe and tossing it aside. You couldn't worry about littering right now.

Okay, what do I have? The thought echoed in your mind again, the panic of the current situation setting in.

Your iPhone, which, in hindsight you were lucky it had been in your bag and that you weren't filming a reel.

Pink custom Glock with your birthday engraved.

Ammo for said glock, not much, as it wasn't like you normally needed your gun.

Your pink glittery pepper spray.

Three lipglosses, one clear, one plumping, and one nude.

Your trending laneige lip balm obviously because you had done an ad for them recently.

A compact mirror.

Ring light.

Lipliner.

Mascara.

Travel size bag of facial cleansing wipes.

Two protein bars.

Your pretty golden flower claw clip that you had purchased from Tiktok shop.

Your vapes... Both kinds. Which, you wished you'd left behind considering you were trying to kick the habits though maybe you'd need it, your stress levels were certainly starting to rise.

A few carts.

Your SolarBuddy which you had done a TikTok promo for a few months ago and had been carrying it around in your bag ever since. Though it wasn't the best design considering your phone had to be in full sun to charge it, you had still given it a seven out of ten for its convenient travel size.

Your air pods and their charger.

This years summer collection Prada sunglasses.

A travel size tube of aquaphor.

Your favorite moisturizer.

Your favorite skin mist.

Sol de janeiro perfume because, trending.

Tampons.

Panty liners.

An extra pair of panties.

Cinnamon gum.

Spearmint tictacs.

Your lucky pen.

A collection of polaroids held together by a thin rubber band, you knew the contents of those by memory, one of your the golden retriever you had grown up with, one of you with your closest friends, one with you and your parents, one with you and your boyfriend, and one of just you.

Your wallet obviously with your credit cards and your id.

The necessities only.

You checked your phone, cursing to see the little SOS sign in the top right corner. Of course you didn't have any fucking service. Why would you in the middle of bum fuck no where Hansel and Gretle woods?

You grabbed your gun next, and slid the pepper spray into the front of your leggings. Your mouth was still so dry, so you popped a piece of the cinnamon gum in your mouth before piling your belongings back into your tote. Your breath was heavy and you could hear more twigs snap and they were getting closer. Your hand was shaking, your gun wobbling in the air as you held it up in front of you.

"Who's there?" you squeak, standing straighter up on your feet, each and every breath becoming more heavy. And then... Suddenly... There were shadows, lots of them, and- And a man- No a beast. With wings, he had darkly tanned skin, black almost raven colored waves that hung over his forehead in the most seductive way- His eyes... Curious, dark, hazel eyes fixated on you, on your weapon. Blue stones glittered across his knuckles, he looked straight out of Mortal Kombat.

The shadow curled around him, flicking over his ears, almost as if they were telling him a secret. He was so alarmingly large, your pulse quickened.

He was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

And deadly. Terrifying-Horror movie-

"Oh-My-" Is the only words you can get out, the world around suddenly begins breathing. Everything looks as though it's moving in and out, leaving you dizzy before everything goes black, your finger slipped, squeezing the trigger as you fainted.

Azriel stumbled back, his arm flying to the new wound that was on the side of his arm. The sound was so loud he was almost sure Tamlin would some how catch wind of it. Azriel groaned, what the fuck kind of crazy sick cross bow shit was that? It had felt like metal, hot and so fucking fast, right across the side of his arm. He was bleeding now, bleeding onto your pristine white shirt, that looked more like an undergarment. Despite you shooting him, with your weapon, he had still caught you as you fell.

In all his recent meetings to the Spring Court... Azriel had never expected this.

A human girl. But not just any human girl- No nothing like any human he had seen in the mortal lands. Not even how Nesta or Elain had been before the Cauldron had made them. You- You weren't from this world. That much he could tell-though he hadn't been able to even get a word out before you'd fainted on the spot.

He tucked- Whatever it was you had just shot him with away in your strange bag. He contemplated his next move.

He knew the smart thing to do, he should leave you here, fly home and forget he had ever even found you. His family didn't exactly know that he was frequenting the Spring Court.

After everything that had happened with Elain- And everything Rhys had said... Azriel had taken quite a few lovers, the most recent a lesser fae who lived in a small cottage on the outskirts of Spring.

After more long moments contemplating on leaving you, he lifted you up and carried you to a small cave nearby. He winced, his wound was healing slowly, though it was definitely healing. The sun was poking over the mountains now, his jaw flexed. He knew the others would be looking for him soon.

With Nyx in the picture now- Rhys was even more cautious about newcomers... And a human? A human with some strange powerful weapon- Strange clothes and shoes? Surely he couldn't bring you back with him.

"Who the fuck are you?" He jumped at the sound of your voice, his head quickly snapping back to you, his thought coming to a halt. Fuck... Your scent was so strong, so sensual, so delicious.

"Don't go reaching for whatever that weapon is that you have- I'll break all of your fingers," Azriel warns, noticing you scrambling up from your position on the caves floor and reaching for the strange bag you had been carrying. You freeze, your heart hammering against your chest as you stare back at him.

"Are you going to kill me?" you squeak out, his wings were tucked behind him, but your eyes kept drifting to them before landing back on his face.

Despite the sheer terror coursing through you, you couldn't help but melt under his gaze. He was so large, hunched over in the small cave, his abnormally big, scarred fingers covering over his knees. You couldn't help but wonder the size of his cock, with hands- With height like that. And he was sexy... Holy fucking shit he was sexy.

"I could be asking you the same," Azriel responds, his eyes still fixated on you. Your scent was driving him crazy. Was it really so easy to arouse a human girl? "You shot me, with whatever that thing was, and then fainted. Out of the two of us I'd say you can't be trusted," he raises his arm, showing the now scabbed over wound.

"It's a glock nineteen," you mumble your eyes flitting over the cut. How long had you been sleeping that it had healed so much already? "I'm sorry, are you okay?" you finally ask, clearly, he wasn't going to kill you right? He would have done it by now... Right? "I've never- I've never shot outside the range before-"

"The range?" His eyes are so intensely fixed on you that your heart rate picks up.

"The gun range, where you shoot guns?"

"I'm assuming what you hit me with, is a gun?" he clarifies, my eyes flit over to his knives, his clothing... He looked like he was straight off a movie set.

You slowly nod, your cheeks pink under his intense curious stare. Not even his shadows could tell him a lick about you."What's your name?" he asks quietly, his eyes flickering slightly.

"Y/n, but my friends- And my followers, call me Bubbles," you're fighting the urge to pull your compact mirror from your bag, the thought of your current appearance in front of this- Mysterious sex god creature- It wasn't sitting well with you. "What's yours?" You ask, your cheeks warming, had he even blinked, once?

"Azriel," he says softly, that curious twinkle in his eyes sent your cheeks burning deeper. "Your followers, are you a prophet or something?" he asks, and he figures by the scrunch of your nose and the giggle that escapes from your lips it must have been a silly question.

"No, I'm an influencer and an instagram model, depending who you ask," you giggle again at the idea of you as a prophet. Maybe you were, for trends and the best plumping lip gloss.

"I have no idea what any of that means," Azriel admits, his voice is so smooth and sensual, you think you could listen to it forever. It warms something deep inside of you, a part of you that you hadn't even known existed.

Azriels lips twitched in amusement as he watched you blush before him, he had no idea why he was entertaining this. He had no idea why he was so fascinated by you, though, you were human, he had never seen anything like you. His shadows were just as curious, in fact, they had been the final deciding factor in whether or not he was going to leave you. You weren't like anything hed ever seen. Much smaller than any human he'd ever seen from the mortal lands, softer features, full, juicy lips that sent heat to his cock when his eyes rested on them for too long, big eyes with long unnaturally long lashes, long hair that flowed behind your back... And the smell of you... Like nothing he had ever scented before.

"Where am I?" You ask finally breaking the tense silence, your throat felt unbearably dry and scratchy, he hadn't stopped staring and it was starting to unnerve you.

"Prythian," he answers quickly, easily, you can't help but shiver at the way his raspy low voice travels along your bones. Prythian? It doesn't sound like anywhere on earth you'd ever heard of, your head spun.

"And how do I get back to California?" your voice is weary, strained, he raises an eyebrow.

"Um," he frowns, running his scared hand through his hair. "I couldn't tell you," he admits, and he couldn't, the land you spoke of was nothing he ever heard of. "How did you get here?"

"So like-" you start, not even knowing how to explain it. "My boyfriend has this youtube channel he explores abandoned buildings, supposed haunted houses- Ancient spooky ruins- Shit like that," you pause, your eyes meeting his, a sigh escapes your lips because you can tell he isn't following. "Anyway, I'm minding my business, being cute in the video because that's all I ever do in his videos. We were in some creepy ass old tunnel underground I touch one thing- One, and next thing I know I'm falling- For I don't even know how long. And I ended up here," you finish, nervously fidgeting with the charm on your necklace.

Azriels head spun, holding a conversation with you was proving to be quite exhausting. A tunnel, an underground tunnel got you here. He didn't know how to tell you, but there may be no way back to wherever you came from.

"Youtube? Video?" he asks wearily, fighting the urge to rub his temples.

"Sorry," you sigh softly, starting to relax a tiny bit, clearly, he wasn't going to kill you. You grab your phone from your bag, noticing the way his eyes narrow, zeroing in on the phone. You didn't miss the way he rested his hand on the top of his dagger. "Still no fucking signal," you mutter in frustration. "Would be so much easier if I could show you all this stuff, anyway... Where I'm from there's something called the internet, kind of like endless stupidity but also endless information? At your fingertips... That's basically what the internet is." You hadn't realized how not cut out you were for teaching anything, your expertise was in trending lipgloss and skin care.

"Interesting," Azriel responds, still looking at you so curiously. He didn't understand why he felt the need to help you, why he even cared. "Maybe Rhys will have an idea," he muses, mostly talking to himself. "You know. You're very lucky... If someone else had found you-" he cuts himself off, you cross your arms over your chest, narrowing your eyes at him.

"I can protect myself, to an extent," you say back, gesturing to your bag, though you had no idea what you'd even be up against out here, you did have your gun and pepper spray.

"Still lucky it was me, some on this land would swallow you for breakfast and not think twice," he smirks, leaning in a bit, his fingers wrapped tightly around his bent knees. "See, I'll still eat you for breakfast but I'll ask first," his eyes twinkled flirtatiously and your cheeks burned, this wasn't normal for you. You weren't used to being flustered, you were used to men falling at your feet and buying you gifts, you had also always worn the pants, in any relationship you'd ever been in and you weren't used to a man being so forward. You opened and closed your mouth, for once in your life at a loss for words.

"Whats wrong y/n?" he asks, the way your name leaves his lips is so slow, and sensual... And was it hot in here?

"What are you some kind of bat-man siren?" You breathe out, scrunching your nose, he stifles a laugh, his eyes still twinkling brightly with his amusement. "And you know, for being so- like- mythical and handsome- You still sound like any other fuckboy," your arms are crossed over your chest again as you stare back at him, he laughs again, shaking his head at you.

"Fuckboy?"

"It's a man that sleeps with a lot of women."

"Come back to my city with me?"

"Definitely a fuck boy."

a/n: HAHAHAHA thank you to my frands @velarisdusk @scorpioriesling @cynthiesjmxazrielslover for the help this is gonna be great.

#acotar #azriel smut #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #acotar smut #azriel fanfic #azriel fic #azriel spymaster #azriel fluff #azriel fan fiction #azriel x you #azriel fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel au #azriel acotar #azriel

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technoartist · 3 months ago

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MAJOR THANK YOU TO @king-crawler AND THEIR 2 HOUR TURBO VIDEO FOR MAKING ME THINK ABOUT WRECK-IT RALF FOR THE FIRST TIME IN YEARS now I'm obsessed with this horrible little man.

Here's some practice sketches that I did of Turbo last night + me designing a self-insert to ship him with lmaooo-

I have an au for the two of them that's been rattling around in my head for the past few days ever since I watched the video, but I'm still trying to hash out the details (especially with my self-insert, since she's meant to be from a PC game, so I'm gonna need to acknowledge the existence of the sequel gfhgg-).

I'm a bit worried about making this post too long, but I might make a post about what the plot of my au/fanfic idea is once I get a better grasp on it. Feel free to ask questions about it, too - it'll help me figure out what exactly is going on in it

#wreck it ralph #wir #turbo #turbotastic #turbo time #self ship #self insert #self indulgent #art #traditional art

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starry-bi-sky · 2 months ago

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Since you don't bite, I must tell you that I love your Changeling/Fae Danny AU. It literally tastes good (synesthesia adjacent bs) and I would eat it if I could. <3

👁️👁️🫵

HOW'D YOU KNOW I WAS THINKING ABOUT CHANGELING/FAE DANNY WHEN YOU SENT THIS. WIIIITCH

(also omg??? im super curious on what changeling/fae danny tastes like to you 👀. is it wrong of me to say that sounds super cool???)

but gosh yesss fae/changeling danny my beloved. he's so fun to think about. there are two wolves inside me:

one wolf is the desire to go full tilt into his fey side and let him be mischievous and impish and a chaotic gremlin. he is terrorizing the ghostly masses and driving Wes Weston up the wall because he keeps melting his fucking cameras.

the other wolf is one that wants to explore the consequences of having gone from being human all your life to not-human, and now everything you once knew about yourself down to the physiological level is wrong and new and different, and you have all these instincts and habits you didn't have before that you've got to learn and wrangle with.

and then there's the mediator in the middle trying to hash together a way to have the best of both worlds while still remaining coherent.

anyways, danny finds out that he can catch starlight in jars the same way you can catch fireflies, and he spends all night filling up little mason jars and hanging them from his ceiling. They look like little specks floating around in there. He's over the moon about it :]

#changeling danny au #changeling danny #starry asks #danny fenton is not the ghost king #danny fenton #was very tempted to tag dpxdc but this au honestly has very little to do with it on its own #changeling danny go brrrrrrrrrrr

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 6 months ago

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Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 116

Part 1 Part 115

Steve’s counting the days until winter break. Something’s settled within him, now that things have been hashed out with Eddie, and he’s ditched his car and old house key. He wants to go home. But there’s a good week left of pretending to still care about schoolwork along with the rest of the seniors.

High school, as always, is a powder keg Steve can’t wait to get out of – all it takes is a single lit match and the whole barrel’s going up in flames, taking all nearby bystanders down with it. Steve’s never been good at keeping his distance.

Carol and Tommy used to be his crutches. They both know how to look out for the striking of the match, when to step back, and when to blow it out. They’d circle him like feral wolves protecting their fresh kill.

Steve’s always been good at reading people’s moods, but never the room. And now that Carol’s on the fringes of the in-crowd, and Steve’s drop-kicked himself out entirely, all they’ve got left is Tommy, and he’s more likely to be holding the match.

Steve’s dressed down for gym for the first time in weeks, his doctor’s note apparently the only stay of execution he’d receive. He’s excited, is the thing. He’s not even particularly bothered by the looks the other guys are throwing him in the locker room, knows there are scars now that there weren’t the last time he was in here: most notably shiny pink burns speckled across his back.

It doesn’t matter. He wants to move.

Hargrove snorts. “I knew you were into some kinky shit, Harrington,” he drawls from across the locker room. “But this is sick, even for you.”

Steve pulls his shirt down and slips his shoes on without untying them, ready to get out of there. It doesn’t stop Hargrove from calling after him.

“Is that what you let those freaks do when you were all tied up?”

Steve doesn’t mean to turn back, but he does, confusion taking over his higher brain functions. Hargrove’s smirking, a few of his cronies hanging on to his every word and laughing right along with him.

Hagan’s not laughing. His fists are bunched and he’s glaring at Steve, but Steve still knows him. Tommy has never been an angry guy. The anger’s always been a veneer, spread thin, to cover up something else. His hands are shaking right now, like he’s not sure whether to punch Steve or hug him. He’s sucking on his bottom lip like he wishes it was Steve’s.

Steve turns his back to him, and hears his laugh, a smack of skin. He doesn’t look back.

There will probably always be a Steve that lives inside of him that misses Tommy Hagan. The same Steve that remembers being small in the backseat of his parent’s car and just wants the idea of them back. But, that’s the Steve of years ago from a simpler, shallower time. The Steve of now has people who love him enough to stay when things get hard.

Would Tommy ever have opened his home to Steve when he got kicked out? Would Tommy have ever walked through hell to get him back?

Soccer’s not a high-contact sport, but Hargrove sure does his best to make it one.

Basketball skills don’t translate well to it, but there’s a certain level of athleticism that makes most hand-to-eye coordination tenible. None of which explains the way Hargrove’s foot keeps slipping when he tries to kick the ball and bashing into Steve’s shins.

None of which explains the way his shoulder checks Steve’s with enough force to send him sprawling. Twice.

And he keeps saying shit.

“I get why you’d let those two redheads fuck with you,” Hargrove calls, looking up and down Steve’s own body like he’s trying to picture something tawdry. “Hell, Carol’s a tight piece of ass.”

He grins smamirly over at Hagan, either not noticing or simply not caring that Hagan’s face has dropped all its forced joviality.

“But those kids? My sister?” he continues, still grinning like it’s funny. “What are you, some sort of pedophile?”

“I don’t know your sister, man,” Steve calls, disgust twisting in his stomach, knotting his intestines up in creative bows.

Steve kick, kick, passes the ball around Hargrove’s weak defense, hoping Hargrove will follow the ball. He doesn’t.

“Even worse, you let Munson in on that action?” he taunts, staring Steve down.

Steve looks past him, watching his temporary teammate score an easy goal against a goalie who’s clearly never played a sport in his life. He doesn’t know what Hargrove’s on about, but engaging with vipers never leads anywhere good.

It doesn’t stop him from spewing more poison. “I always knew you were a freak.” He says it like he’d rather fling a different word that starts with the letter F.

The teacher blows his whistle at them, shouting complaints about lazing about and lollygagging, so they’re all three forced to run to the other side of the field and catch up with the rest of the game. That doesn’t stop Hargrove from running his mouth.

“Hell, I heard all sorts of rumors about the three of you, back when you were the king. Carol, Tommy, and Steve, the inseparable trio.” Even through all the monologuing, he doesn’t even have the decency to be out of breath.

Steve’s lived a far more sedentary life this past year, and he’s panting now, forehead tacky with sweat. But, there’s a certain level of athleticism it takes years to lose, so he still keeps up.

“I know Carol was Tommy’s girl,” Hargrove continues, lunging around Steve to stop the ball, kicking it from foot to foot with coordinated ease. “But I heard you were taking it just as much as she was.”

Hargrove feints left, right, scores a goal, running backward to get back on defense without turning his grinning face away from Steve’s.

“Who would've thought King Steve was a fa–”

Tommy Hagan’s fist interrupts Hargrove’s little speech. It connects with a meaty thwack! with Hargrove’s jaw, hard enough to make his teeth clack together.

So: powder keg, lit match, ka-boom!

“What the fuck were you just going to call me?” Hagan snarls.

He swings again until Hargrove rolls them over and starts swinging back. Steve stares, stunned as the teacher blows his whistle and starts running.

He can almost hear Eddie’s soapbox rant. Something about testosterone, and projection, and the homoeroticism of high school sportsball.

Both boys are bloody and seething by the time they’re pulled apart and escorted to the principal’s office.

He intercepts Carol at Barbara’s car after school to tell her what happened, unsurprised when she just laughs.

“Serves him right,” she says grinning and peering into the parking lot like she might catch sight of his bloodied face.

“Should we do something about the rumors?” he asks, whispering the last word like if someone hears it, they’ll immediately spew homophobic slurs in both of their directions.

Carol just waves her hand dismissively. “Nah, that’ll just fan the flames.” She wraps her hand around his waist and squeezes, fingers tucked proprietarily beneath his t-shirt. “Go home and this’ll all blow over by next week.”

He tells Eddie what happened on the way home.

Eddie cackles. “Of course it would happen in gym,” he says, grinning as he runs a vacant stop sign without even a rolling stop. “All that testosterone running through their bodies until they’ve just got to touch each other.”

Steve settles in to listen to his rant, delighted when he guessed most of the beats Eddie would hit just right.

He should be surprised when Hargrove and Hagan are sitting next to each other at lunch the next day, laughing and shit-talking as if the whole school isn’t still atwitter about their all-out brawl the day before.

He should be, but he’s not. Tommy and Carol have always been good at playing the game, and it looks like Tommy’s determined to stay on the board.

Steve and Carol trade a commiserating lunch, and go back to their respective conversations. Tommy’s been given chance after chance to make a different choice, but he never does. Steve’s not about to light his own match for an old friend who’d never burn right along with him.

Steve counts down the days until he can go home, and stay there with Eddie, for weeks on end. Four, three, two, one.

Home.

Part 117

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #my fic #steddie upsidedown au #I lied. editing this in the airport lol #Steve is once again having Tommy feelings. I just think this is one of those things that will always linger for him.#They were friends for too long for it not to!

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paeries · 1 year ago

Text

Sick Of You III — h.s.

[when a boyfriend of two years breaks it off and offers a new arrangement, of course you’ll take it up. this is your prime chance to prove him wrong. and Harry can’t bear to watch it]

[part one is here, part two is here, and i just wanted to say thank you thank you thank you for all the love you’ve shown. this one took a loonnngggg time to hash out because I wanted to give it a good realistic feel to the argument, bc y/n fucked up badddd. so, that being said, i'm hoping i was able to deliver and i really hope you enjoy it xxx]

wc; 13.3k

pairing; harry x reader

cw; friends to lovers au, brief smut, annggsssttttt, harry tears, lots of arguing, drinking, smoking, swearing ALOT of it, we’re not exactly y/n’s biggest fans

pov; y/n, but third person

[pssst…. you can find my masterlist here]

“There y’go, sweet girl.” Harry panted out, his hands cupped under her ass as she rocked back and forth on his cock, the tip practically smushed against her g-spot. “Tha’ feel good?” He hummed, as she buried her face in his neck, her hands gripping tight at his shoulders for leverage. She nodded quickly, gasping out a weak ‘Yes!’ before whimpering against the crook of his neck. “So full, Harry.” She hiccuped and Harry’s head fell back, Y/N taking the opportunity to litter kisses anywhere she could at the newly uncovered area. His hands came up to smooth along her back, one hand finding the soft ends of her hair, his fingers twirling the strands around each digit. He’d learned long ago about how she’d coo and preen into his touch. He had moved his head back to watch her do just that, and watch the goosebumps skirt up her arms. “All mine, dove.” He had hummed against her skin. “Tell me.” He begged, sliding an arm around her waist to lift her up a bit, his hips rocking up into her. He heard her gasp, whine, whimper, everything but what he really wanted to hear. “Tell me, Y/N. Please, tell me you’re mine.” He asked again, peppering kisses across her chest. Just as he found her nipple beginning to suck gently, as he knew would get her to say what he wanted to hear, a lower voice from the corner began to laugh.

“Go on, tell him.”

Harry’s head snapped up, ignoring Y/N’s cries as she came, her hips still rocking against him with her head thrown back.

Mark was standing by the door.

•••

Harry’s eyes flew open, sitting up immediately before scanning the room for his clock that he must’ve kicked to the floor in his sleep. 4:16am. He groaned, his hands reaching up to rub his face before laying back down. Maybe I can stare at the ceiling some more and fall asleep?

“Tell him.” Harry audibly scowled, pulling the pillow over his head. He couldn’t even find peace in his sleep, his own brain won’t let him get the girl while he’s unconscious. Ridiculous, really. At this point, he’d rather just scrap the whole day and try again tomorrow. He didn’t feel like moving. Didn’t feel like sitting up and he didn’t feel like stretching his aching limbs. He certainly didn't feel like pulling his curtains back to let the daylight in, definitely didn’t feel like getting in the shower, didn’t feel like tidying up his living room from the night before, he didn’t feel like doing anything but lay down.

So he did. With the T.V. on whatever was already channelled in, he laid in his bed and let his thoughts drift. If he looked out to the aforementioned curtain covered window, he wondered if it was going to rain, since the sun should’ve begun coming up by now. It had to have been covered in clouds, a perfect start to a shitty morning evidently. He dared look back at the clock. What had felt like it had at least been ten minutes, in fact was a little of an hour had gone by. So, with his throat scratchy, his eyes raw, his head pounding, and feeling like shit, he pushed himself up to trudge into the bathroom despite his lack of motivation. Start with a shower, he thought to himself, as he brought a heavy hand to the knobs before stepping under the water.

Usually, he would let his mind wander. Sometimes long enough for his hands to find his cock, tugging till he found his relief under the water. Now? He shuts his eyes, focusing instead on the feel of the hot water pelting at his skin. If only he could put it all off until tomorrow and stop existing only for the day. He was well aware that the minute he’d let the reins go, his thoughts would return to her.

Yet, Harry suddenly can't seem to catch his breath in the shower, the inevitable tears slipping past his cheeks as hard choking sobs wracked through his body, his forehead resting against the ceramic tiles. Nothing could stop whatever noise clawed its way from his gut and out of his mouth when he thought about the night before. He wasn’t even sure why this time was so much worse than all the others.

Was it because he felt like the end was near? That his efforts paid off, or that it was looking like he’d come out on top after all? That all signs were pointing to yes? Not, watch out for the rug that's about to be ripped away from under your feet? Or was it how stupid he never thought she’d have been to throw away what was obviously the right kind of love? That she'd be so blinded to deny it?

You shouldn’t think like that, it’s not like you don’t love her anymore.

Finally stepping out of the shower, he grabbed whatever clothes his hands found from his drawers and began down the hallway to the kitchen. As Harry brewed himself a cup of coffee, he scrolled through his phone for unanswered texts or calls, even updating himself on the news. Again, anything that allowed his mind to venture away from her. Sure there were things that always reminded him of her but he did his best to steer clear as best he could.

While he waited for the machine to finish, he glanced over his living spaces. Nothing too terrible. There were some empty pizza boxes on the kitchen island (he later learned that someone was kind enough to put the last unopened box of pizza in his fridge along with the drinks), and the chairs were a bit haphazard and the couch was covered in crumbs and pillows. This really shouldn’t take too long to tidy up.

About an hour passed, and Harry had gotten through his second cup of coffee, feeling somewhat better and more alert. At least enough to get the day done and over with. So Harry, after looking at the state of his neglected garden from the window, decided to dip into the closet for his broom to start there. The area hadn’t been used since the summer, and with the snowier months on the way, he thought he’d better tidy it now so it wasn’t so atrocious come next springtime.

By the time he finished and stepped back inside the heated walls, a knock came from his front door. Dread ran through his blood, as he stared at it before hurriedly opening the door, immediate relief rippling through his body when Daphne was revealed to have been standing at the other side.

“Hey, Daph.” He sighed, his head tilted in confusion afterwards. “S’quite early, isn’t it? Why’re you up?” He asked but Daphne shook her head, and he noticed she looked quite frazzled. “Nevermind that, y’busy?” She asked hurriedly. “Not exactly, but,” Harry started before Daphne was pushing past him into his house. “Come on in, I guess.” He muttered, shutting the door to follow her. “Are you cleaning?” She asked immediately and Harry’s eyes widened. He wasn’t exactly awake just enough to have prepared himself for company. “Not deeply, just tidying.” He replied, eyeing her carefully. He couldn’t tell what was wrong with her. She wasn’t as put together as usual. Honestly, she looked quite dishevelled. “Good. I’ll help you.” She answered, going to grab a trash bag to collect the empty beer cans and bottles. Harry waited a second, feeling his confusion grow deeper before grabbing a bag as well.

They cleaned in silence for a while before Daphne, who was now holding paper towels and some sort of spray to wipe the counters. “Y’sleep okay?” She finally asked and Harry straightened up. “Slept fine.” He answered quickly, hoping that was the last question. (Somehow, he wasn’t convinced.)

Silence again, apart from the occasional spraying sound from her surface cleaner. “Because, y’never came back out after you got sick.” Daphne pried again, and Harry let out a loud exhale. “I’m fine, Daphne.” He reiterated, looking at her sternly. He reaaallllyyy did not want to talk about it, especially with Daphne. She had barely paused, still wiping down the tables or setting glasses in the sink. “It’s just that, I-I’m having a hard time believing you, Harry. I know how you get.” She began again and Harry groaned, his head tipping back. “Daphne. I’m fine. S’alright.” He said again, staring at the ceiling as silence filled the room again.

Thank Go—

“What’d y’mean, s’alright, Harry?” Daphne shouted suddenly, her eyebrows furrowed at him in some form of disbelief. Surely, he’s joking, she thought. “It’s not alright, you get that, yeah?” She huffed, shaking her head at him. “That, that, what she’s doing, is, is- She’s stringing you along! I-It’s nasty, it’s cruel!” Her voice climbing higher and higher, until she was shouting.

“Enough, already! Alright? I know what it is, Daphne! But, you popping up out of nowhere at six a.m. and throwing it in my face at volume 10 isn’t helping things either!” Harry snapped, pausing from picking up the pizza boxes and glasses strewn about the coffee table. “I don’t need you to tell me any of this shit, I can handle m’self, thanks.” As much as he tried not to, he took one look at her and guilt rushed over him. “M’sorry, for yelling. I’m just,” He sighed, setting the garbage bag down to free his hands. “I’m trying to get my mind off it, so, it’s just not something that I really want to talk about. I appreciate your concern, I do. But, I think I just want to be alone.” Daphne chewed at the inside of her lip as she listened to him, “I’m sorry, I really didn’t come here to pry. I just wanted to check in.” She finally uttered out, going to finish tidying in the kitchen. “I’m at least going to help you finish first.” She said adamantly. And Harry let out a sigh of relief. That, he could manage. “Thank you, Daph, really.” He reiterated, grateful for the help and now silent company.

By the time Y/N left Jodie’s and arrived at Harry’s, she found that his car was running in the driveway, and his front door seemed to be cracked open by a smidge.

Where was he headed off to? Should I go?

Before another thought could form in her brain, Harry came out in what looked like a hurry, stopping briefly at the sight of her before bounding right past her to the boot of his car.

She stayed still while chewing at the inside of her lip, watching as Harry wrapped up six or seven bags in his arms. Without much acknowledgement, he slid past her again to get in the door. “Would you take the keys out of the ignition for me, this is the last of it.” He grumbled as he passed her. “Sure-,” She sighed, opening his driver door to pull the keys out, the engine shutting down immediately.

After making what felt like a walk of shame to the front door, she froze upon entering. Harry was busying himself with getting the groceries put away, walking back and forth between the bags on the kitchen floor to the fridge or cupboards. Harry was determined not to show her how upset he really was. He wanted to give her the same treatment he had been experiencing from her. Besides the fact, that he was terrified he’d start crying the minute he got a good look at her.

“How have y’been?” He asked, barely taking a glance at her as she shut the door behind her. Just focus on the groceries and the house, he thought to himself. Chairs were still every which way, and Harry had relieved Daphne of her duties about an hour earlier once she finished mopping, so he could manage to pop out to the store and grab some groceries for the week. Organising his apartment, unfortunately, took a brief back corner.

Y/N had stepped in, cautious to watch him as he moved over his apartment. “Have t’say that I’ve felt better.” She mumbled, choosing to stay in the entryway and out of his way. “That so?” Harry replied, his jaw clenching. It was clear that she wasn’t going to let it blow past another day. He decided to prepare himself for the second argument of the day.

“Yeah, um, Harry?” She said hurriedly, wringing her hands together to try and work up the nerve. Harry sighed, ducking his head in the fridge to keep himself busy. “Yeah,” He said dejectedly. There’s no running from it now.

“I wanted to apologise for leaving everyone in the dark last night.” There it was. Harry felt his teeth begin to grind against one another, and he turned to collect some of the emptied reusable bags amongst the others to put them away for his next trip. He hated the plastic bags.

Maybe we could distract ourselves with our thoughts long enough to tune her out?

“It was a rough night, and,” she paused for a moment, “Clearly, I had had a major lapse in judgement.” He feels like his blood's boiling a degree or so higher with every word coming out of her mouth.

He clears his throat, “It’s fine, Y/N.” Can’t you take a hint?

“But it’s not fine, and,” She goes on, but Harry isn’t listening. He knows she's still talking and he’s fully tuned out, but he can’t stomach this much longer. He knew what she was saying without even listening. It was always some excuse, or half-assed ‘Sorry’. So, trying everything he could to cut her off, “I don’t want to talk about it right now.” he griped, hoping that was enough to let her know to back off. What was everyone’s deal? Wanting to talk about it? When did everybody start caring about it?

“Harry, I’m sorry,” She began again, “you’re clearly angry, so just let me,” Harry’s loud groan interrupted her again as he lifted a hand to stop her, “Just stop, yeah?! Sorry?” He spat, “Sorry’s not good enough! You can’t just say- M’tired,” He seethed, “Of hearing how sorry you are. This time, sorry won’t fix it. S’just too soon.” His long legs carried him to the living room to bring a chair back to the kitchen table along with a few wine glasses to sit in the sink, desperate to find something to busy himself with. Anything to avoid this exact argument.

“Wow, y’sound like Daphne.” She muttered, and what meant to sound like a lighthearted joke to lighten the mood, now sounded bitter and demeaning as she now understood, shutting her eyes tight when she saw his head snap back to her. “What?” He asked carefully, taking a few steps in her direction. “What did you just say?” She’d never seen him so angry, taking a few steps backwards as well. “I-I- I didn’t mean,” She stuttered, chewing at her lip when her back met the front door. “Cos’ t’me? Sounded like you had somethin’ snippy to say, and I’d say that you’re in no place to make petty remarks. Especially, when asking me to forgive you all while you stand there, mottled with bruises and hickeys from him.” He spat, shaking his head at her. “How stupid do you think I am?” His head tilted at her, finally backing up to continue unpacking the bags from the store in the kitchen, even laughing as he did. “Hilarious.” He laughed out, glancing back at her before laughing again as he dug through the groceries.

“I-I don’t- think you’re stupid, that’s,” she sighed, starting again with a concentrated breath, “I know you’re angry. And, I know that I deserve to hear it.”

It made his head spin. The same way it always did when he would put his argument aside and give in. Harry could feel his blood bubbling with anger, with hurt, sadness, all of it coming to a head. Before he could do anything to stop it; he turned around again.

“No, what you deserve is each other.” He spat, immediately regretting the words the minute they came out. He knew it sounded morose and beneath him. But he wouldn’t take it back. He was angry, he is angry. Her eyes went wide, opening her mouth before closing it shortly after taking a few steps towards him again. “I-I,” She began again and he watched as her eyebrows furrowed, her lips pursed as her eyes danced around the floor before continuing, “You used me! I can’t continue to be the backup, Y/N! That’s all I am! When he doesn't want you, I’m suddenly good enough. Do I matter that little to you?” He felt like he was gasping for air, suffocating slowly and desperate for relief.

She stopped in her tracks, “Of course not, Harry. You know how I feel about you.” She couldn’t think of a time when Harry didn’t matter to her. So her confusion, trying to understand where everything went so wrong, left her at a loss. How she couldn’t see when it went wrong. If she had just talked to Jodie months ago, would they be standing at arms with one another? She’s never seen Harry like this before, ever. The normally cool, calm, collected and goofy Harry, was now hard-eyed, rigid, and cold. Hurt.

Harry scoffed, narrowing his eyes at her. “When?! When have I ever known how you feel about me? When was I something other than your plan b?!” He spat after turning back around, angrily putting cans in the cupboard and throwing frozen vegetables in the freezer. “Worst part is that I fucking knew what was going to happen at breakfast that morning! I knew it!” She thought she was hearing things, but she swore she could hear a choked whimper in his voice. Y/N pursed her lips, shaking her head in disbelief. “I don’t believe this, Harry. Everytime he cancelled on me, I called you. Anytime he said or did something wrong, I wanted your company. It wasn’t about the sex.”

Harry felt like throwing a full-blown tantrum as he turned around, his eyes widening. “Jesus, so what? Y’telling me I ought to be grateful then?” He quipped, staring at her.

“Of course not! I’m trying to say that I always wanted you around. And that, maybe sometimes, I was happy Mark would cancel.” She explained but Harry wasn’t buying it. “You’re something fucking else, y’know that? ‘Maybe sometimes?’ Fuckin’..” He huffed, deciding to leave it there as he went back to rinsing the wine glasses in the sink. “It’s my fault, I should've got out sooner. My bad.” He spat, leering at her over his shoulder.

“Why did you stay then?!” She yelled, her eyes boring into his back, her frustration reaching its peak. “If there were a million reasons to stop like you make it out to be, why did you stay?!” Harry rolled his eyes, “Oh, come on now. Don’t be daft.” He huffed, shutting the water off to turn to her again, drying his hands on the hand towel over his shoulder. “No, seriously! Why?!”

His eyes met hers, searching hers to try to figure out if she was being serious or not. If she was making some cruel point. “Do you really want to know?!” “Yes!” She breathed, throwing her arms in the air exasperatedly. “Do you?! You’re sure?!” “Jesus, Yes, Harry. I want to know!”

“I,” He paused for a moment to collect himself, “M’- I am in love with you.” He managed in one exhale, his body taut and tense as he looked at her.

Silence for a moment, In love? “Harr-”

“There is no ‘I think’ or ‘maybe’ or ‘could I be’, I am in love with you.” He was breathing heavily now, and deeply thankful she was keeping her distance because he was sure he’d have bursted into tears by now. “If I were Mark, I’d have married you by Month 3.” He practically growled, pained by the comparison. Harry knew full well Mark would never be a quarter of the man he was. “Unfortunately, I haven’t got the money, as we all know, but, I like to think I do well enough on my own.” He was breathing heavily, staring at her fiercely. That was a low one to hurl but he couldn’t stop himself. A full year of his misery, and now she had to make him tell her like this?

“The money?!” She was glaring now, her hands finally settling on the island counter opposite him. “I don’t give a fuck about the money, Harry. I never have, and y’know that. My mother introduced us because she knows his family. Just so happened, I fucking fell in love with him!” Harry rolled his eyes and it only fueled her on. “Right, shocking. As if you’d know what love was if it had landed in your lap.” He spat sarcastically, turning again to flip the tap back on to go back to the last few dishes left.

“Harry, I came here to tell you that I love you.” She admitted, causing Harry to flinch. Something he’d once die to hear, now he couldn’t take seriously. ”No, you don’t.” He groaned, pained to even have to reject it, his lips pulling tight to stop himself from saying anything else. “Yes, I do.” She repeated, her voice catching an irritated tone. Harry couldn’t take it, she just kept pressing, and pressing. “I want to believe you, I do,” He said, his hands shaking while scrubbing the pots and pans. “but, I can’t, not anymore.”

“You can’t- What do you mean you can’t believe me?” She breathed out, bringing her hands up to brush the hair messed around the frame away from her face, the weight of this argument growing heavy. They’d hardly argued before, and never before to this degree. “I can’t believe you when you say you love me. I believe you care for me, or about me, or whatever.” He paused, swallowing thickly so as not to break down. “I don’t believe you’d ever give me an honest chance.” He admitted, his head hanging as he leaned against the kitchen sink, refusing to look at her.

She laughed almost incredulously, “Why not?” And Harry splits, “Because of Mark!” He barked at her, spinning around to finally face her. “It’s always Mark! You've never even considered me as an option!”

“Not once did you ever even contemplate it!” He was seething now, unsure as to how he could possibly get her to grasp a fraction of an idea as to how bad she's hurt him. “What do you want me to do, Harry! I can’t go back in time! I’m apologising now!”

“Oh, Christ, Y/N- They’re just fucking words! If that’s all you have for me, you’d better just go.” He admitted, a mixture of sadness and disappointment etched across his features.

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she tried to collect herself. “What do you want, Harry?” As she finally spoke, her voice was timid and defeated, and as Harry’s voice boomed over, she jumped.

“I wanted to be first!” He shouted, veins popping out on his neck from the force. “I wanted you!” His chest was heaving, fully unloading his anger. “Every time I think about you, Y/N, my chest hurts. Like, like someone is stepping on it. Especially when I think about you with him! It’s killing me, and I thought, I-I thought that I could,” He sighed, his eyes fluttering closed, deciding he had shared enough. He said what he felt he had to say.

She didn’t really know what to say, taken aback by his outburst. “I’m-,” She managed before Harry decided he had enough. “I think you should leave.” He muttered, his shoulders slumped in defeat. “Harry,” She tried, even going as far as to take a step closer to him. “Get out.” Whatever sorrow she thought he could be feeling was so clearly gone. Now, he stood in front of her, tense and angry.

“Leave! I’m tired of this!” I can’t trust you anymore.

“H-Harry, I can’t lea- m’not leaving.” She tried again, begging herself not to let the tears fall. “Now you’re crying?!” Harry barked, reaching up to move his hair from his eyes, tugging as his fingers reached the ends. Rage surged through his body, grabbing her keyring off the counter to take his home key.

He snatched his own keys off the hook to take her house key off, linking it back onto her keyring. “I’m dead serious, Y/N, leave.” He said, cursing himself at the way his voice shook. He knew how scary he could look when he got angry like this, catching a glimpse of his reflection one time in an argument at work.

After pushing her keys back into her hands, he opened the front door and waited, his teary and red-rimmed eyes trained to the ground in front of him. “I-I’ll, I’ll earn it back, Harry. I promise, I-I’ll get the key back.” She murmured, as she walked past him out the door reluctantly. “I swear I’ll prove it.”

Harry managed a small half smile that bordered on sarcastic through his blank stare, hoping she would but still doubtful. “I guess we’ll see.” He gritted, shutting the door immediately afterwards before the unshed tears creating a gloss over his eyes finally fell. Only standing there another few seconds before going back to the distraction of cleaning his apartment again.

“Jod?” She called, stumbling through her best friend's house while fumbling to put the keys in her pocket. “Jooooodddddd!” She giggled out, her vision fuzzed enough as it is without it being pitch black.

Jodie opened her bedroom door quickly, “Y/N? Is that you?” She mumbled, knuckling at her eyes to make sure it was in fact, her drunk best friend. “D’y’know it’s about four in the morning?” A giggle came from the kitchen, as well as some glasses clinking. “Is it?” Y/N hummed, finally finding the kitchen while blindly feeling around for the lightswitch. “Goooot iiiit.” She sang before flipping the light on.

Jodie grabbed a robe, tying it across her waist and shuffled down the hall. “Are you drunk?” A good question, as she was slurring her words while pouring up another drink from her cabinet. “Is Daphne ‘ere?” Y/N hummed, teetering to one side momentarily. “No. Why don’t y’sit down and we can talk about it?” Jodie tried again, reaching for her friend's arm to tug her into the living room.

As both the girls sat down, the room fell quiet. “Talked to erm- Harry.” Y/N muttered, lifting her glass to her lips for a sip. “And?” Jodie asked, leaning forward to lower the other girl's glass. “C’mon, s’just me, relax.” She pressed and frowned as she watched the girl shake her head, more to herself than to Jodie. Y/N scoffed, standing up again to look for her speaker. “It's just us here, right?” She asked again, and Jodie furrowed her brows. “Yes, Daph’s out for the night but I don’t see why that matt-” And suddenly she was cut off by music. “I knew I’d regret giving you the house key.” She muttered to herself, knowing the music was too loud for her friend to hear her.

“Are you alright, Y/N? Have t’say, I’ve seen this kind of behaviour before.” Jodie said after standing up to turn it down. “I talked to Harry.” She repeated, giggling as she did so. “He looked sad. Sooo, sooooo beautiful, but sad.” She sighed, pouting before sitting against the couch’s arm rest. “Everything they said, s’true.” She muttered, staring into her lap as she swirled the liquid around the glass. “Y/N…” Jodie began, “I don’t know where this is go-,” Jodie stopped, as she was interrupted again. “I’m a terri- ‘hiccup’ -terrible person.”

Jodie took a breath, and decided to try again. “Just because you made a bad decision, doesn’t make you a terrible person.” Jodie sighed, somewhat pleased she was able to finish her two cents as she leaned her head against her palm.

“Jodie?” Y/N murmured, hardly looking up from the glass in her lap. “Yeah?” Her friend answered, her head snapping up at the mere thought of her best friend opening up. (Or the exhaustion, it was nearly 4am after all.) “I think I missed my chance.” Y/N whimpered, “I mean, he hates me. I thought I was goin’ over there to tell him what we,'' a hiccup interrupting her, “we had talked about.” She hummed, taking a quick breath to continue. “Was not the case.” She breathed out, shaking her head sadly at the memory of the fight.

“Y/N, I don’t think he hates you.” Jodie repeated, sighing before leaning back against the couch cushions with a soft yawn. “Jod, I’ve never seen him so angry. Ever.” Y/N mumbled, playing with the rings on her fingers. “I’ve just been an awful, awful, person lately. And, I know s’late a-and I wouldn’t normally be here. Becos’ usually, I can go to ‘arry’s. But I fucked that up for m’self, didn’t I.”

“He’s hurt.” Jodie reminded again. “Y/N, you realise that you’ve become his own Mark?”

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed, “What?” She gasped, and her friend forgave the dramatics, chalking it up to her level of intoxication. “Don’t ‘what’ me.” Jodie laughed, sighing after she caught her breath. “Seriously, you did damn near everything Mark did to you. Whether or not you meant to, is not the issue. You did it, and you need to make it right.” Y/N frowned, reaching for her glass again. Jodie sighed and lowered it again. “And, this? This is not how you make it right. Straighten yourself up. M’not letting you go down this road again, and definitely not when it's from your own doing.” She stood, taking the rocks glass and brought it to the kitchen. “Now, what kind of sandwich would you like?” She asked curtly, dumping the remnants of the glass in the sink before turning to open the fridge and fish out the necessary items. “I’d like you sober now.”

———

Now that Jodie had been certain she had somewhat sobered her friend up, she settled on the couch with a blanket strewn across her lap. Y/N was eating a carefully crafted turkey and brie toastie with a glass of water, laid across the other couch. The two girls were watching some of the ‘007 movie series to settle back down for the night. Jodie was undoubtedly closer to sleep than Y/N, but she didn’t mind staying up with her if it brought her friend some solace. Of all the times she could remember, (other than recent unfortunate events) Y/N had never let her down. Always there, even when her mother died, Jodie actually had to send her on random ‘quests’ to find some alone time in those first few months. “Jodie, I couldn’t imagine going through what you’re going through and keep the same…. Jodie-ness about you.” She’d said all those years ago. They were young, just freshly in the middle of their college careers. In all honesty, Jodie had stayed ‘Jodie’ because she had Y/N. As silly as her statement was at the time, it truly summarised her most valued friendship.

“What are you thinking about?” Y/N suddenly asked, and Jodie lifted her head, “Are you asking me?” She giggled, “You never ask!” She admitted when she received a ‘duh’ and Y/N shrugged, pursing her lips. “Well, you’ve been practically counselling me for the past week and a half and I haven’t asked. S’been eating at me for a while.” Y/N explained, watching as Jodie frowned. “I just, I know you’ve been dealing with a lot too. About the house and,” To her relief, Jodie cut her off. “That’s okay. Your little dilemma offers a much appreciated distraction if we’re being honest. I’ll be okay, I’ve got time.” She explained through another yawn. “You, however, are fucking up left and right hourly.” Jodie teased and somehow successfully dodged a throw pillow tossed her way.

“I wish you would just cry and that could be it. Y’have to get confusing and block everybody out.” Jodie huffed, cracking a smile at her friend who feigned shock. “Honestly!” She laughed, Y/N joining along. “I’m not doing it to push people away, I just hate to complain about something so trivial. I mean, Daphne’s moving for her new job, stressful. You have this house to worry about securing, I-I mean, I can’t leave a man alone if it killed me. All the while, mucking up a great relationship with a guy that actually cared about me enough to at least try and wait it out. That’s done with.” Y/N huffed, her face burying into her hands. “It’s just embarrassing, that this is my life issue.”

“Your life issue?” Jodie laughed, “I somehow doubt that this is it for you, Drama Queen.” She giggled again at the thought, shaking her head. “I’m gonna try to fall asleep, you nutcase. You’re welcome to stay.”

“Love you, Jodie.” Y/N hummed, standing to collect the plates and glasses to set down in the kitchen. The very least she could do was fix her kitchen back up after she barged in and woke her friend from a dead sleep.

—

When Daphne walked in the door the next morning and saw Y/N on the couch, she immediately stormed down the hall to Jodie’s room, who had gotten up just an hour prior to go to her bed. “Jodie!” She whispered, opening her door a crack to poke her head in. “Get up! Right now, get up!”

Jodie groaned, whining as she flipped over, pulling her pillow over her head. Daphne walked over to her bed and pulled the pillow away. “Y/N is on our couch!” She huffed, Jodie grumbling out, “Yes.”

“So! What is she doing here?!” Daphne huffed, setting her hands on her hips. “Christ, Daph, does it look like I’m alert and ready for the day?” She complained and Daphne pulled the blankets back. “I’m serious!”

“She got drunk and came over in the middle of the night, we talked and fell asleep. What is the big deal?”

“The big deal is that I’m pissed off at her! So I’d like to know if and when she’s here.” She explained, irritance written across her face. “And I still live here too!”

“Stop it, Daph! She wasn’t here for you, she was just here to talk. You weren’t even here last night.” Jodie grumbled, blindly reaching for her covers. “Well, I’m leaving. Text me when she leaves.” Daphne huffed, leaving Jodie’s room to duck into her own to collect the things she’d need for the day, showering and dressing before slipping back out the door. (She did, however pack a bag with her ‘daily essentials’, her hair and makeup products. She absolutely couldn’t risk taking any longer.)

“Thank you.” Jodie grumbled, before burying herself back against her bed.

—

“Hey you’re up! I was just getting my things to head out.” Y/N hummed at the sight of her tired looking friend.

“Yeah, might need another nap.” Jodie yawned, going to the fridge for a glass of water. “Daphne’s mad at you.” She added, turning to look at her friend. “I figured, she hasn’t been answering my texts.” Y/N sighed, taking her keys and wallet. “She ever tell you why?” She pried, chewing at her lip. “I mean, I know why, but,” She sighed again, shrugging.

“Well, s’the same shit. I’m assuming she’ll have to talk to me about it at some point. Dunno why shes so pro-Harry all of a sudden.” Jodie answered, “Thinkin’ she thinks this is her chance?”

“Not my business.” Her friend replied curtly, pressing her lips together before taking a step to the door. “Well, I convinced Cade to come pick me up to take me home and he’s here so, I’m just going to try and pretend everything's okay for a little while longer. I’ll see you later Jodie. Thank you, again, and m’sorry again for keeping you up.” Y/N apologised, before she stepped out to meet Cade at the end of her drive.

Jodie sighed, shutting the door and headed to the kitchen to start a kettle for some tea. It always put her in the mood for a nap. With her tea ready, she shuffled to the couch to collapse against it after carefully sitting the cup on the table in front of her. “Peace,” She hummed, “and quiet.” before settling for another rest.

Somehow she had spoken too soon, the front door was opened again and Jodie grumbled something incoherent about having been so close to sweet sleep. “Is she gone?” Daphne’s voice rang through the entryway. “Jesus Chr- Yes, Daph, she left about ten minutes ago! You practically passed her, how long are you gonna keep this up?”

“As long as I feel is necessary.” Daphne countered, heading to the kitchen to set her bags down. “What’s all this?” Jodie asked when she sat up, shuffling to the kitchen to look at what her housemate brought home from the store.

“Went out to the store, grabbed some stuff. Are you hungry? It’ll be some sort of an orzo pasta salad.” Daphne shrugged, pulling the ingredients out of the bags, as well as pulling out the necessary pots and utensils.

“I suppose,” Jodie yawned again. “Let me get cleaned up and dressed, I’ll help you.” She muttered, taking her tea to the room to shower and change. “No, no, get your rest, shouldn’t take too long. I’ll let you know when it’s ready.” Daphne called as the other headed down the hall.

—

“And that’s it, it says, Chill overnight or serve as is.” Daphne read off her phone, “I’m hungry now, so as is it is.” She snickered to herself, setting her phone to the side to give a few final stirs before turning the burner off. “Jod! S’about ready, now or never! M’starving.” She called out, loud enough that she was sure her friend could hear her clearly. “Coming!” Daphne heard back, muffled as it was, as she began to run cold water over the orzo before mixing the vegetables, cheese cubes and dressing.

Before long, Jodie came down the hall with a swiftness. “Been smelling it for ages wondering when you’d call me down.” She hummed, “Looks amazing, Daph.” Jodie praised, taking the time to give her friend a good once over. “Hey,” Jodie began cautiously, “You okay?” Daphne huffed, cleaning up the counters' surface. “Yeah, Jod. I’m perfectly fine.” She sighed, disappointedly. “You could have at least let me accept your compliment before you dug into me.” She mused, rolling her eyes, worrying now that their lunch was ruined. Jodie stared at her for a moment, blinking every now and then. “You realise everything you’re currently doing is in fact not fine?”

“Okay, I’m not. It’s not like it matters. Nobody listens to me anyways.” Daphne grumbled, taking her seat after passing a bowl to Jodie. “What’s your problem then? You’ve been as irritable as ever for the past three days.” Jodie asked, her brows furrowed with confusion.

“Because! You baby her! Let her get off the easy way and she’s in the wrong. I don’t care if she cries or begs, she fucked up and she deserves to hear about it.” Daphne sighed, shaking her head gently in thought.

“Yeah, Daphne, but some people learn differently. How can you expect someone to learn from their mistakes if you throw them to the wind and never give them the chance to fix it?” Jodie asked, still leaned against the counter as she watched Daphne clear the kitchen and turn the light off to sit at the breakfast counter. “And, I don’t baby her.”

"Oh, come on. Why’d y’think she stuck with Mark? She likes playing games, and she doesn't care about the victims of those games; even when they're her own best friends." Daphne griped, finally taking a bite from her bowl. “I’m not sure why you act like she’s been like this for your entire friendship.” Jodie counters, both unimpressed and growing irritated with how her friend is speaking about their supposed shared friend.

“She practically has! She was always the nicest, the smartest, everybody loves her. Even while making the most colossal mistakes!” Daphne groaned, rolling her eyes. “I love her, I do, like I would my sister! But I make one measly misstep and I’m done for. It’s time she gets a little bit of reality.”

“There’s reality, and then there’s meanness.” Jodie shrugged, grabbing a spoon to sit down with her friend. “And Daph, you’ve made tons of measly mistakes, and the world never ended, nor did we ever throw you out.”

The group met at the Stumble close to a week and some days later, and the night was getting into its usual spring, with Cade drunk and slumped at the bar booth they sat at. Unfortunately, Cade lost another shot challenge to Jodie, as usual, and it had left him incapacitated for the evening.

With Daphne at the bar and Cade practically asleep, Y/N scooted closer to Jodie. “I fucked up.” She whispered and Jodie’s eyes widened, “Do not tell me you slept with Mar-,” Y/N shook her head quickly, watching for Daphne. “No! Nice vote of confidence, that, thanks. No, I went to Harry’s last night to drop off a pizza, he said he didn’t get to eat so I thought it’d be a peace offering.” Jodie nodded, leaning in closer to hear her better. “He had a girl over.” Y/N murmured, watching as Jodie’s eyes widened again. “Harry did?!” She practically shouted, “Yes, shh! Not too loud, Daphne’s coming back. Mums the word, Jod, I mean it.” Y/N winced at the memory, reliving the humiliation all over again before shooting a glare at her friend and straightened up as Daphne began walking back over.

“What are you doin’ ’ere, Y/N?” He hushed, his breath leaving him at the sight of her. She had a box of pizza in her arms and a hopeful smile. “Y’said you hadn’t ate today, thought I’d bring some pizza for you.” She explained, her eyes holding his for a minute before she began feeling her cheeks heat up. As she looked around to avoid his stare, she caught sight of a jacket on the coat rack and a thin silked scarf. Brown leather, that looked far too small to fit around his broad shoulders. Harry’s stomach dropped, and he felt his mouth go dry. “Thank you, but uh, s’not really a good time. Could I call you tomorrow?” His heart was hammering, thumping through his eardrums. Y/N could feel herself deflate, putting the pieces together. His hair wasn’t dishevelled from napping, he had a girl over and she was interrupting their date. Her eyes widened and she began nodding, “Yeah! No worries,” She assured him and handed him the pizza box. Harry felt like he could die right there, his arms taking the box from her out of shock. Why tonight? Of all nights?

“It’s for you, I uh, already ate.” Come on now, Y/N. Just get out of there already! “Er, right. Talk to you tomorrow.” She muttered again and awkwardly turned to get back down the driveway to her car, walking as fast as she could without obviously running.

Harry watched as she retreated back to the car and groaned, shutting the door. “Everything alright?” His brown haired guest asked, coming down his stairs in one of his shirts. They had hardly gotten very far, really. The doorbell chiming just as the woman, Claire?, had broken their makeout to remove her shirt. Harry sighed, looking to the box and grumbled. “Yeah, everything’s fine.” He managed to make the trip to the kitchen and set the box down on the island. “You ordered a pizza?” She asked, coming up behind him to look from around his shoulder, before taking a sip of her wine. Harry tensed and rolled his shoulders back to get her off them. “Sorta,” He sighed, ”Listen, m’really sorry, but I’m not feeling too well. Could I order a ride share to come pick you up?” He asked, feeling as though his legs were cemented to the floor under him. Her eyebrows furrowed, and he could tell how awkward the air got. “Uh, sure? Are you alright, Harry?”

“Er, not really, m’so sorry but,” He sighed, shaking his head at himself. “I’ll help you grab your things.” He murmured, picking his phone up to order a ride for her. The woman, looking very confused, began to gather her things and slip her boots on. “Did I do something wrong?” She paused when she got to the doorway, looking at him for some better explanation. “No, no, really, believe me. It’s my fault. I’ll give you a call.” He added, chewing at his lip just desperate to get this girl out of his home.

“Anyone know if Harry’s coming by tonight?” Y/N asked, sipping cautiously at her drink as she watched her friends turn their attention to her. She really just wanted to apologise to him for intruding and that she hoped it didn’t ruin his night, as crushing as that reality felt. There was a lot she wanted to apologise for, the list just keeps growing by the day.

Daphne giggled as she returned, clearly having just caught her question. “Well, I imagine he has other friends, Y/N. He’s probably out with them.” She snipped, setting the drinks on the table and took her seat next to her date she decided to bring along impromptu. Y/N grimaced at her answer, of course he has other friends, lots of other friends.

The two girls haven't been on the best of terms, hardly speaking to one another if Daphne didn’t have something snarky to say. Jodie tried her best to dispute any minor arguments, for the sake of the two's friendship. They’ve butted heads before but they’d also gotten over worse situations. The fact that Daphne seemed to be going out of her way to bring it up, had Jodie on edge the past week. And Harry hadn’t texted Y/N nor had he really been seen in the same amount of time. The last time he came out with the group, he had to leave early after he began introducing the group to a random girl he met by the bar that looked a lot like Y/N, even going as far to introduce her as The Nice Y/N, the poor thing, after having a bit too much to drink. From then on, if he did come out, he never stayed long.

“Chill out, Daph.” Jodie spoke up, eyes practically searing at Daphne. “Y’sound jealous.” She giggled, playing it off as a joke effortlessly for her date whose eyes went wide at the accusation.

Most of the group rolled their eyes, preparing for another gruesome catfight between the two girls. Peace was found few and far between nowadays, Daphne just wouldn’t drop it.

The truth was, Harry was out with some of his other friends. A rehearsal party for a wedding in Italy to be exact. One he had planned to take Y/N to when he got the invitation a few months or so prior, but, well… that played out the way it did all on its own.

So, as he sat on his own at the full service open bar, making friends with the hired bartender. “Think I can get another one of those pomegranate things, mate?” Harry asked, having just finished his first drink. “What’s in it, by the way?” The bartender smiled, setting out the bottles he used for the drinks. “Bit of Prosecco, the pomegranate liqueur, and some white rum. Garnish and whatever else.” He shrugged. “Agli sposi è piaciuto molto.” Harry sighed and nodded, taking the drink besides not knowing what he had actually said. “Salute” He said before taking a big gulp. “Make that two of these.” He gritted, raising his glass.

———

“So, did you come here with someone?” Harry asked, staring into his glass. He wasn’t exactly sure how long he’d been sitting on the ground with…Luca, and Luca, as he found out, didn’t speak great English, but he’d been doing well thus far. And surely, it could’ve gone smoother had alcohol not been involved.

Luca’s brows furrowed, shaking his head at him. Harry frowned, trying to remember some basic keywords he tried to learn while on the plane. “Erm…fidanzata?” Harry tried and Luca nodded, turning his head to look for his girlfriend. “Mia ragazza, Vita, è seduta lì. Over there.” Luca repeated in his best English after noticing Harry’s confused look. “Ahh, ‘Ve got a girl, whooo, by the way,” He mused as he sat on the floor by the bar, leaning against the wall for stability. His head falling heavy on his neck as he gave in to his memory, those pomegranate things…or whatever they were seemed to be working their way through him. “Would’ve looked gorgeous tonight. Could’ve outdone the bride-to-be.” He hummed, lifting his head to take another gulp of his drink and loosen the tie around his neck. “Probably best I didn’t bring ‘er after all, isn’t it?” He laughed out, letting his heavy head fall back again, his hand coming up to run a hand through his dishevelled hair. “Would’ve left early, back to the ‘otel,” He hummed, his eyes fluttering closed, “Jesus Christ, she’d give the sloppiest blowj-“ He was interrupted by a sudden weight at his knees. When Harry quickly opened his eyes and looked down, a dog had laid its head on his lap.

As he looked around, the guy he thought he was talking to from the groom’s side was nowhere to be found. “I thought we were bonding, Luca!” Harry laughed out to nobody, his hands scratching behind the dog's ears. “S’a good thing you stopped me, far too young to hear about all that yet. Where’d you even come from?” He laughed to himself.

To: Y/N

I just poured my feelings out to a dog.

Y/N turned over in her bed, her phone buzzing on her bedside table had lifted her out of her pathetic half sleep. She grumbled to herself in annoyance, knuckling at her tired eyes before pushing herself up in the bed. Finding the lamp's knob to turn it on, she reached over to grab her phone.

*Message from Harry*

Her brows furrowed, rubbing at her eyes again to clear her hazy vision before unlocking her phone to view the message.

From: Harry

I just poured my feelings out to a dog.

Y/N let out an involuntary giggle, trying to ignore the daunting question forming in her head as she wondered what exactly that dog got to hear.

She stared at the message for a while, glancing at the time before tapping on the character field to type out her reply.

To: Harry

am I supposed to laugh? because that’s funny

I hope he didn’t bill you for the therapy

Harry chortled embarrassingly as he read her text, staggering down the hall of his hotel until he got to his door. The shock that he normally would have felt, had he not drank as much as he had, was nowhere to be found. If he was sober, he’d surely not have sent any text whatsoever like he bad been doing. He just missed her, annoyingly. Nevermind the aches and pains from the memory, apparently, going more than a week without talking to her hurts more. He rolls his eyes at that, “Go figure.” He muttered to himself.

Once the door was unlocked and opened, he trudged inside, yanking at his tie to slide it off his neck while looking at her reply. “Y’could’ve been here wiv’me.” He mumbled to himself, sighing as he toed off his dress shoes, stepping out to the balcony for a few quick puffs of a cigarette to ease his nerves. Cefalù, Sicily seemed to have gone quiet for the night, apart from some clubs and bars, and a few stragglers still at the beach, surprisingly quieter than he had expected. Harry sighed, looking over the view as he took a drag, snubbing it out and tossing it in the trash before dipping back inside to finish getting undressed for bed.

His thumbs fiddled around his keyboard for a few minutes, and he decided to send whatever echoed in his head, pressing send before another moment could go by and began unbuttoning his dress shirt.

To: Y/N

I wish you could be here.

He had only sent the message just over a minute ago but the anticipation was eating away at him, nevermind the fact that he was pretty drunk from the four, or was it five? He lost track after the conga line. Needless to say, the pomegranate drinks did their job well.

His thumb immediately hit the call button, putting it to speakerphone as he attempted again to undo his buttoned dress shirt. One ring, two rings, three… four… Is this a bad idea?

“Harry?” He could hear her whisper, and he held his breath. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all. She sounded like she was asleep and he brought his hands up to rub across his face. “Shit, m’sorry, I wasn’t thinkin’ about if you’d been asleep.” He started but Y/N was quick to cut him off. “No, m’not, I haven’t,” She sighed, starting her sentence again with an amused giggle. “I hadn’t been to sleep yet.”

Harry hummed, taking a seat on his temporary bed for the remainder of the week. “Havin’ trouble?” He asked hesitantly. She snickered, propping her pillows upright so she could lean against them. “Something like that.”

There was a few seconds of silence, the both of them somehow content with the knowledge that the other was there.

“Did you have something to say, Harry?” She asked timidly, unsure why he was calling her at 3am. She could hear him take in a deep breath on the other line, and she sunk further into her bed as she waited anxiously. “N-Not that I’m trying to get off the call, o-or anythin,” Harry laughed, effectively stopping her rambling. “I really don’t have anything else to say.” He admitted as laid himself down, and tried to ignore the flutter he felt in his stomach when she giggled.

“Why? Because you said it all to a dog already?” She giggled out, the line on the other end going quiet, deathly quiet.

—

“Did you mute me to laugh? Or were you just acting like I was funny this whole time?” She countered, her eyebrows furrowing.

A faint click was heard and Harry’s giggling voice rang through the phone again. “As if you know me.” He laughed out, sighing as he relaxed on the bed. She giggled, pursing her lips as she thought of anything else to keep the conversation going. “Oh! How was the wedding?”

Harry hummed, exhaling as he prepared to answer. “S’tommorow, so we’ll be expected to be fully sober and prepared. Tonight was the rehearsal dinner, or party, or whatever they called it. M’hopin they’ll have more of that pomegranate drink they had tonight.” Y/N snickered, thankful they were on the phone so he couldn’t see the stupid grin plastered across her lips. “I wanted you here with me.” She could hear him murmur and sighed at his admission, her eyes shutting closed as she laid on her bed. “I hope m’not keeping you up.” He spoke again, suddenly remembering there was a time zone difference. Y/N giggled, shaking her head. “No! No, you’re only an hour ahead, Harry. I’m technically keeping you up.”

“Have I mentioned how beautiful it is here? I know m’pretty trashed, but seriously. The pictures don’t do it justice.” She had seen the pictures, the sunsets, the meals, the giggly videos uploaded to a story she was somehow still allowed to see.

Y/N sighed, staring at her ceiling as she listened. “I can imagine, are you near the beach?” She hummed, tucking her legs up closer under the covers so she could turn slightly to look out her window; a true fashioned England thunderstorm was reaching its peak. “Well, I’ve got a slight view where our hotel is, but the wedding will be closer when we head that way tomorrow evening.” He hummed, finally laying in his own bed.

“It’s raining here, thundering, actually.” She sighed, her bottom lip tucking under her teeth as she looked to twirl her rings around her fingers. Harry closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. There were a few nights that they spent together during a storm, some of the best time he’d argue they ever had. The house would inevitably get colder, and they’d have food prepared, movies downloaded and flashlights nearby. Harry would get a fire going in the fireplace, and they’d sit on the couch with all their snacks, waiting the storm out.

Here comes the ache. It felt like shutting down, the way his brain cut that train of thought, the memories. He shouldn’t have called. “I can imagine.” Harry repeated, a low rasp settling in his voice as exhaustion began to set in his body. “Harry?” He heard her soft voice through the receiver, her tone letting him know what was coming. “Y’ought to get some sleep, Y/N.” He sighed, reaching up to turn his light out.

“I’ve tried.” She murmured, clearing her throat after a moment of silence. “Well, try again.” He hummed, setting an arm behind his head. She snickered herself before laying back down in her bed. “Yeah. Goodnight, Harry.”

Harry frowned, brows knitted together before uttering out “Goodnight.” just before the call ended.

“I’m tellin’ you, all of a sudden everyone was gone, and it was just me and the dog!” Harry laughed out, leaning back against the backrest of the booth, listening to the confusion and laughter spread amongst the group.

He looks so good. She couldn’t stop staring at him. Italy did him well, a full tan across his skin. He was truly glowing. Thank God he was telling a story so no one else would notice her absolutely staring at him. And she wished she could pay attention to what he was saying, because everyone was hysterical around her. So much so, that now it was clear she hadn’t been paying attention. She faked a laugh, looking around at everyone else in order to gauge just how funny the conversation got.

“And you didn’t realise everyone was leaving?” Jodie laughed out, a little more than skeptical at his story. “Or the lights dimming?! Music stopping?” Harry laughed and shook his head, “Not at all! Hand over my heart, s’them drinks! Which, I’ll be recreating as best I can because they were phenomenal.” He sighed, going over (to the best of his ability, in hindsight he probably shouldve asked the bartender to just write the ingredients down) what was put in those drinks.

“Italy was beautiful, I mean, everything was gorgeous. The food, the villages, I mean, my God.” Harry sighed, his hand placed over his heart. “I’ll miss it.”

Y/N was busy with her drink when she felt a nudge under the table. Her head snapped up, finding Jodie who had locked eyes with her, a smirk placed on her lips before mouthing ‘worldly experience’. A small gesture to cheer her up, something she had always loved about Jodie. Nevertheless, Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. ‘Rub it in, why don’t you?’ She mouthed back.

“You’d all love it. We ought to rent out a place for a week and all us of go together.” Harry suggested, reaching for his glass to finish off. “Have t’say, wasn’t the same without you guys.”

“Let’s just crash our own wedding.” Cade offered, snickering as he was probably already drunk. “I don’t know anyone getting married, Cade, do you?” Daphne asked, shaking her head at him. “Doesn’t have to be someone we know, Daph,” Jodie piped up, “you’re supposed to check out venues, times and all that. If there's a wedding event, then you go. That’s a properly crashed wedding.”

“But they wouldn’t recognise us! They’d escort us away immediately.” Daphne argued with a huff. “Yeah, but anyone that asks, you just tell ‘em that you’re a friend of either side. Family doesn’t really care about the friends part of the invited.” Cade explained, holding his head up. “Tell ‘em Y/N. She’s done it before.” He grumbled, “If y’dont believe me.”

Y/N giggled, shaking her head at Cade before sliding a glass of water over to him. “We have done it before,” She replied, gesturing between herself and Jodie. “Nobody bothered us.” She shrugged, before standing. “I think Mr. Man over here, needs a burger and chips.” She giggled, Jodie standing as well. “I’ll go with you. Anyone need a top off?” Jodie asked, looking around the group for the show of hands. “Not you, Cade.” She laughed out, before the two made the trip to the bar for the tables orders.

“So,” Jodie started, leaning against the bar while waiting for the bartender to finish their serve. “So?” Y/N laughed out, shrugging her shoulders as she scanned the menu items for a decent burger for Cade. “Sooooo, have you talked to Harry?” She asked again, wriggling her brows at her with a giggle. “Christ, Jod.” Y/N laughed and shook her head, “No, nothing since the phone call.” She sighed and pursed her lips, “Think he’d do that onion and bacon cheeseburger?” Y/N asked, trying to change the topic. “Cade would eat styrofoam if you handed it to him, now, are you planning on talking to Harry?” Jodie pried again, rolling her eyes as Y/N grinned at the bartender, relaying the orders to ignore the question again.

When the barman shot off, Jodie huffed and tapped on her friend's shoulder. “Er, Hello? M’talkin t’you here, sweets.” Y/N groaned, tipping her head back, “What do I say to him, Jodie? Hey, remember our phone call when you were slaughtered after living it up in Italy? Ooh, or, My God, Harry you look great! I wish I wasn’t such a nonce, and we could’ve gone together!?” Y/N rolled her eyes, “No thanks, really, m’fine.”

“Not really a bad start is it? And, you still haven’t talked to him about the pizza incident.” Jodie reminded, watching the bartender talk to the cook in the back. Y/N sighed, her eyes shutting. “Jodie, please..” She breathed and Jodie scoffed, “Don’t give me that, I think he should’ve at least mentioned leaving for a week, after whatever that was. He never explained himself to you.” She asked and Y/N shook her head, “And he doesn’t have to, I had no business being there, and if I had just kept to myself then I’d never have known anyone was with him that night. So, please. I’d like to drop it.”

Jodie sighed, collecting the drinks tray as Y/N reached for Cade’s food before they made their way back to the table, Jodie uttering a quiet, “If you say so...”

“Well, Harry told me earlier that the same night he had Carina over, Y/N had showed up with a pizza.” Daphne murmured to the table, consisting of Jodie, Cade, and Daphne’s date for the night. Jodie’s eyes widened and carefully slipped her phone out to send a message. The group had just arrived at the bar after a pregame party at Jodie and Daphne’s to celebrate Daphne’s birthday, and Harry had just stepped out to the bathroom, thankfully.

To: Y/N

Daphne knows about Pizza Night

“While Harry was with her?” Cade asked, his brows knitted together in confusion. “No, you idiot,” Daphne laughed, “He said she just showed up with a box of pizza while he had my friend Carina over.” She explained and snickered again when she finished. “Why is that funny?” Jodie asked, her tone quick and sharp as she dug in her bag for her lipstick.

“Guess it’s not funny, just, er, unideal.” She giggled again, shrugging her shoulders in response, to which Jodie rolled her eyes. She’d never known Daphne to be so petty in her life, and she couldn’t stand to see it. Just as she was going to correct her friend, Y/N had come bursting through the front doors.

“What took you so long? Ordering pizza?” Daphne snickered as she watched Y/N rush in haphazardly to get to her seat. “No,” Y/n snapped, setting her coat and bag down to the inside of the booth. “Had to take care of some things, my car’s been acting up so I had just now gotten to pick it up from the mechanic.” She breathed, sitting down finally with her forefinger and thumb pinching at a throbbing nerve at the bridge of her nose. “Had to call three rideshares, the first two just never showed up. It’s just been,” Y/N sighed, trailing off as another throb derailed her train of thought. “Well, lemme get you a drink, babes.” Jodie offered, ignoring the wave of Y/N’s dismissive hand as she got up anyway to fetch her friend a drink.

“Ought to get some sleep, all those headaches.” Daphne chirped, shrugging her shoulders as she sipped at her own drink. “Never known you to be late for my birthday.”

Y/N sighed, nodding, “I know, and m’sorry Daph, really. Happy Birthday.” She muttered before sliding over the gift she somehow managed to pick up before the shop closed. “V’been so stressed lately, wasn’t sure if you’d like it but there's a gift receipt if you want to exchange it.” She explained breathily. No matter how bad they had been fighting lately, a birthday is a birthday. A silly promise they made all those years ago but something Y/N took to heart.

“A birthday is a birthday.” Jodie raised her glass to the air, huffing as her friends stared at her before bursting out into laughter. “C’mon, it’s a toast, you idiots!” Jodie groaned as they began to laugh harder. “To what?!” Daphne gasped out in between giggles. “That no matter where we are, different time zones or with one another, mad or not; a birthday is a birthday. And y’can’t miss it.” Y/N wiped her eyes and clutched her stomach, an attempt to calm herself down.

“S’not bad, actually.” She hummed, raising her glass as well before looking at Daphne. “Come on!” Jodie coaxed, grinning as the third rolled her eyes playfully, lifting her arm in the air to gently tip against the others' glasses. “A birthday is a birthday!” Daphne grinned, the three girls knocking their shots back to begin their night.

Daphne’s eyes widened for a moment, reaching across to accept the bag. “I- Thank you.” She breathed out, pursing her lips as she set the gift to the side.

Harry had emerged from the bathroom, stilling slightly when he saw Y/N had in fact made it before continuing to the seat. “You look exhausted.” He said, a frown pulling at his lips at the sight of how tired she actually looked. “I know, I know, they’ve said so.” She sighed, straightening up as Jodie came back with her drink and a chip and wings platter for Cade. “Thank you, I’m poor at the moment.” Y/N laughed, reaching into the chips pile.

“Are you sleeping well?” Jodie asked, nudging her friend's shoulder when she shook her head no. “Keep waking up throughout the night. Might need a new pillow or something.” Y/N explained, sipping quickly at her drink and hoping the conversation would venture elsewhere.

“Maybe if you weren’t showing up at random times to peoples houses-,” Daphne started again, only opening her mouth once more before Y/N lifted her head to look at her. She couldn’t really be this mean? “Then perhaps you’d getting better sleep.” She finished, and Harry froze, swallowing thickly. He never meant for Daphne to use it as informational ammo. Harry cleared his throat, shifting in his seat as he prepared to intervene but Y/N had beat him to it after finishing what was left in her glass.

“Are you done?” Y/N cut, glaring at her. “Shut up about it already, okay?”

“Touchy.” She quipped, giggling as she glanced at Harry. Y/N rolled her eyes, excusing herself from the group to get the next round of drinks.

“I like when Daphne drinks.” Cade laughed when he was sure Y/N was out of earshot earning a smack on the arm from Jodie. Daphne grinned, pretending to fan herself at the praise. “Happy Birthday, to me.” She hummed, reaching for a shot from the centre and downing it. “Wasn’t really that big of a deal, was it? Some advice and she takes off.”

“Y’have to love the theatrics, though.” Harry added, shrugging as he reached over to down a shot as well. Jodie huffed and leaned back in her seat, her legs crossed one over the other as she braced herself to tell the whole group off. “Hardly theatrics, isn’t it.” Said Jodie, as she couldn’t take much more of the banter. “Well, she stormed off over nothing.” Harry huffed and Jodie's eyes widened. “Nothing?” She scoffed, rolling her eyes again. “Don’t act stupid, Harry, you know what Daphne was getting at, and you!” She glared at Daphne, sneering at her even. “That’s far too low for you, you’ve got more class than that.” She added, leaving Daphne with her mouth hung agape.

“S’a fucking ploy, Jod. So, she’s a lil’ embarrassed, she’ll be fine.” Harry reluctantly replied, his eyes darting at the rest of the table as a silent plea for help.

“Oi, I hear her crying in the middle of the night, Harry. S’hardly a ploy. You, of all people, should know what I’m talking about.” Harry, of course, did know immediately what she was talking about, and it made him sick. The first time they got together, what started it all. So long ago, but somehow still as bittersweet as it was now, it was the happiest time of his life. Before he knew, before it was ruined. His jaw clenched, thinking back at it now and remembering it’s not his fault.

“I’ve cried too, Jod!” He argued, his chest beginning to feel the far too familiar ache. Jodie rolled her eyes, with a sarcastic laugh. “It’s your doing! Both of you! Harry, you could very easily get all this over and done with a simple yes or no. Just rip the bloody bandage off already. We all know what Y/N did, and I don’t know why Daph’s so set on making it ten times worse. I don’t feel bad for you, for anyone!” She argued, crossing her arms over her chest. “And Daphne, just because it’s your birthday doesn’t mean you get a free bitch pass, not from me anyway.” Jodie finished, leaving Daphne to grumble her response. “You all suck. I want new friends.” Jodie huffed at that, cracking a small smile to ease the tension. “I expect to hear apologies in the next coming days. Cade, you too!” Jodie sneered, grabbing from the chip pile to toss at him, “What did I do?!” He whined, groaning when Daphne grabbed some of the fallen ones to toss at him too. “Shut Up, Cade.”

Jodie sighed, feeling the weight loft from her shoulders now that she’d spoken her mind. “She’s not even there anymore, I don’t see her.” Jodie grumbled as she turned to scan the bar area. “Lemme…” She trailed off, pushing her chair from the table to get up and find her.

When she got to the bar and tried explaining what Y/N was wearing to the barman, she caught a glimpse of her dress in the outside area. “That’s okay, think that’s her outside, thank you anyway.” She said over the music, grabbing for the made drinks and hurried out the door.

“Y/N?” She started, quietly and sighed as her friend's head tipped backwards at the acknowledgement of her presence. “It’s fine, Jodie.” She breathed out. “No it is not. You were supposed to be at the bar, know better than to just disappear.” She scolded, setting the tray of drinks on one of the iron wrought tables sitting on the stone patio, sprawled each way for any patrons needing a smoke break or fresh air.

“Didn’t disappear, paid for the order and thought I’d earned a smoke break. I’ve been running around all day, stressing. Thought tonight would be a nice peaceful distraction, but nooo, not as long as Miss Perfect is around.”

“Miss Perfect,” Jodie laughed at that, “Really, you both act like you’ve never been friends in your life! Over what? Mark of all things?” she added exasperatedly.

“Yeah, well, I tried being nice. Tried a birthday is a birthday, she doesn’t care. Harry doesn’t care, m’over it. I fucked up, and it’s done with. M’tired of feeling like I’m the only one trying to mend my mistake. Feels like beatin’ a dead horse. So, so, so fuck it.” She rasped, bringing her arms around herself as she took another drag. “Fuck it.” Jodie repeated and sighed, “Alright, well, I’ll leave you to yourself then.” And Y/N spitefully laughed out, “Yes, Thank you!” before turning her head to the door to find Jodie had already left.

—

“Did you find her?” Cade asked, lifting his head as Jodie returned with the forgotten tray of drinks. “Yes.” She griped, setting the tray down and returning to her seat. Daphne and Cade carefully reached over for their drinks, watching as Jodie glared at Harry who kept his head down.

Cade nudged Harry, “What?” Harry barked, annoyed he was shaken out of his thoughts. Cade glanced to Jodie and then away again, acting like he heard his name from behind him. “O-Oh, h-hey…. Charlie, haven’t seen you in a while!” He said before scrambling away to the back of the pub.

“What?!” Harry asked again incredulously and Jodie rolled her eyes and pointed to the outside area. “Fix. It. Now.” Harry groaned, pursing his lips. “She doesn’t want to talk with me.” He tried and jumped when Jodie gave a swift kick to his shin under the table. “Alright, alright…” He winced, standing carefully with a slight limp as he hobbled to the side door.

As he opened the door, he brought his arms around himself at the feel of the bite from the wind. And upon a short glance around, he saw her toeing at the cobblestone in the back corner, half burnt cigarette in hand that desperately needed ashed off. He sighed, a little too loudly as she had jumped, spinning around with a hand to her chest. “Jesus, you scared me.” She admitted, and Harry could see she’d had herself a little cry.

“Hey.” He mumbled, his hands shoved into his pockets to keep from pulling her into his arms. He really hated to see her so upset, “You okay?”

“Oh, m’fine, Harry. Thanks.” She huffed, taking another drag of her cigarette after she turned back away from him. “Really, for everything. S’nothing for you to worry about.” She snipped, gritting her teeth together. “I’ll guess, Jodie sent you.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“Y/N, about the other night,” He began, taking a step closer. “I, it wasn’t, well-,” He struggled, pursing his lips tight. “S’fine, Harry. Daphne’s right, I shouldn’t have just shown up. Wasn’t my place to do so.” Y/N interrupted, shaking her head. She just didn’t want to know, she felt stupid to have tried a stunt like that to begin with. But Harry continued anyway, “A-and, I didn’t think she’d use it like that when I told her, and! We weren’t like, making fun of you. I was just venting, I felt awful. The timing of it, it was just, it was awful.” He finished, watching her carefully as his hands dug into the material of the pocket of his trousers.

“And, I wanted to erm,” he added, looking at his shoes and began to fuss with a loose cobblestone. “I wanted to apologise, for how I acted the other day. Well, really, days ago now. Er, I know, I wasn’t exactly fair.”

“Please don’t apologise, Harry, I don’t know what I was thinking. Of course a simple sorry wouldn’t have fixed it. I just, I talked with Jodie about it and it- it all hit me that I had it all wrong. And,” She sighed, shrugging it off. “I fucked up, a-and, it’s done for, so, if we could swiftly just er- try and forget?” Her voice began to shake, her lips quivering as she struggled to get the words out. Harry frowned, taking another step closer. “Y/N, I don’t want to forget.” His voice was strong and sure, and she groaned in frustration, “Cor, Harry, I’m so confused.”

Harry grumbled a bit to himself, “Look, just, come back inside. We’ve got all of our friends inside. S’Daphne’s birthday, possibly her last with us, yeah?” He tried to reason, to get her mind of it. He loved her, yes, but he wasn’t quite ready to forgive and forget either. He wanted the opportunity for the pair to get their frustrations out, the dramatic side of him needed to get to the bottom of this. Whether it meant he had to yell, and hear her yell too. He felt it was the most raw way to get to the solution of an argument. Or maybe that he needed to hear that she cared about losing him as badly as he did. That she’d been as miserable as he was.

Y/N stayed quiet, chewing at the inside of her lip. “Know it’s her birthday an’all but, fuck Daphne right now.” Harry laughed a little, reaching a hand out to her. “Come back in, s’bloomin’ cold out here.” She sighed and tipped her head back. “I don’t know, Harry. Think I should just go home.” She admitted, reaching through her bag for her phone. “Noo, really. Stay, please.” He shifted closer and grabbed her bag. “So Jodie won’t chop me up into a million pieces? Because she’s really scaring me.” He added and glanced back through the door to see Jodie staring at them through the glass. Y/N laughed and shook her head fondly at her friend, “She’s come a long way to get that intimidating,” and with a heavy sigh, “yeah, c’mon. it is cold.” Before she could take a step towards the door, Harry stopped her. “We will, talk later, y’know,” He assured, swallowing thickly as he ran a hand through his hair; a poor attempt to retain his newly set boundaries, he thinks. “Later?” She repeated, her brows knitted together. “Yeah, later, s’alot to say, wouldn’t you agree?” He grumbled, something of a curse was all she could make out, yet seemingly annoyed with himself. “I-I do…” She mumbled, even more uneasy than before somehow. “Plus, we’d better head in before the Birthday Girl gets drunk before we do.” He added and Y/N laughed, still uneasy but shrugged it off all the same. “Later works with me, yeah.”

[part i.] [part ii.]

(a/n: WOW its here, and dont even let me BEGIN on tumblr’s mobile editing format bc it SUCKS!! anyway! sorry again for the long wait, and i hope your patience is rewarded with the third part!!! xxx as always, feedback and comments are always appreciated!)

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starreyblueberry · 1 month ago

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OH MY GOD THIS IS A LONG FUCKING POST.. SORRY GUYSS LOL Ok but if im being serious here's how I think a how-to train your dragon/fairly odd parents au could come about. First of all it depends on how we change the storyline, if we go for the OG story with just a few tweaks, then I want Timmy to be hiccup and Peri to be toothless. Timmy already feels left out and excluded by his peers half the time, and I could see him trying to invent items and creations to help hunt Dragons in the first place. His dad being the head of the village and obvi being a dragon hunter. Dragons in this au though would be able to do magic as well, they would be able to understand humans a bit better (but are still essentially animals). My idea for how exactly the war starts. Kids used to run away frequently, rather its cause they feel shut out, neglected, abused, or cause they just hated where they were, they would run off deep deep into the forest, with a bag of food and water in their hand that can only last them a few days. After realizing what they've got themselves into, it would just be pure dread, they would run around screaming for help, but they were in a maze of trees and wilderness, basically making it impossible for a child to actually find where they can go home! Thats where the dragon part comes in! Dragons would hear their cries, and help children get back home. They would help them survive, give them food and water, and whenever a kid said "I wish" it just so happened to appere next to them! Dragons were able to understand humans quite well, and they formed a bond with a lot of these kids, but were quick to part once they helped the kids find their way home. Once home these children would share stores of their adventures, these dragons, and at first they would seem crazy, but too many kids were hashing out the same story, and it started to become a bit suspicious. One of these children was crcokers ancestors! uhh ill call him CA for short!! He ran off, cried, and got a dragon to help him with whatever he was going though and take hi home. He told his mom with so much excitement! Describing these pink and green dragons- with spikes shaped like stars, and glowing dust surrounding them- but his mom thought he was crazy! I mean dragons?? Who could believe it.

Until one day CA ran off again. She remembered his whole dragon spheel, and went looking. After days of hunting and searching, she found him with the dragon. She screamed, her first thought wasn't kindness, wasn't gratitude for this creature keeping her son safe, it was fear. She tried to attack it, and well um... its like a 15 foot dragon guys. It was kinda easy to kill her LOL. The sight was NOT pretty too, and CA saw all of it. He swore vengeance on these Dragons, refusing to let any Dragons near humans ever again. Soon enough word was able to spread, and more and more adults got scared, and worried. Stories of horrifying man eating creatures were spread, but kids were still running away.

A hunting party was gathered, after the 4th kid came crying to their dad being killed by a dragon, they had enough. The kid led the search party, and it was practically the whole village!! It was a battle- a long one, but they killed the first ever dragon. Dragons did not take this light heartly, I mean, they give food, shelter, to the kids they choose to neglect? And they try to kill their kind? They were PISSED.

Thus the war started, Years passed as Dragons slowly started to attack villages (especially as food was getting scarse and humans seemed to be taking it all.) As I said Timmys dad is head of the village, he takes care of the hunting parties and is the one with the highest kill count, he's friendlier in general but is even less trusting of Timmy then Stoic was to Hiccup. Timmy was such a bright kid, with amazing ideas! He wants to become just like his dad, even though his dad barely even pays attention to him. He wants to impress him- the entire village- but every time he tries, he just ruins everything over and over again. He has a deal with the local huntress Vicky, to teach him how to make weapons, but let's just say she doesn't care for teaching him, rather instead using him as a personal test dummy to how good these weapons are. Ok that's like the base idea ill post something else about how Peri, cosmo, and wanda are in and YES I'm changing the story a bit, its not going to be the exact same character arcs, but it will have the same plot/ending heart :3 ill be making a post later focusing on Timmy

#Ohhh my god #this was so much #forgive me guys #Timmy Turner #fairly oddparents #fop #fairly odd parents #cosmo #wanda #Fairly odd dragons #?#is that good #LMAOOOO #How to train your fairy #idk im trying yall #tell me which ones better

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kookslastbutton · 1 year ago

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Love's Remedy ༓ jjk (m) l Ch. III

✑ Summary: Jungkook is a romantic. He comes from a highly intelligent family who wants him to carry out the lineage. Being this way, he goes to college to be a pharmacist but his friends say college isn't just about studying! With a little persuasion, he goes to his first frat party thinking his hat will help him pick up a girl-or woman he means.

Pairing: STEM major!virgin!jungkook x STEM major!hot girl!reader

AU/genre: angst, smut, fluff, s2l, college au, mini-series

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 4,378

Warnings: jk is very determined to "win" oc, jk a romantic, oc has philophobia (fear of relationships), protective!koo again, oc is an engineering student, PC Bang, jk is a king at LOL (League of Legends), jk lowkey flirts with new person, oc gets cold feet but please don't blame her 🥹, jk and oc get on level ground after hashing things through, themes of stalker-ish behavior (not oc or jk!), feat Jackson and Jae-beom, if i missed warning lmk!

Now Playing: seven, summertime sadness, she’s kerosene, angels like you+

A/N: For reference a PC Bang is: "a type of LAN gaming center and Internet cafe in South Korea, where patrons can play multiplayer computer games for an hourly fee". Also, I am not a gaming guru but I try for this chapter that means I researched haha Enjoy! 💞

<< ch. II ༓ ch. IV >> | series masterlist

A week later, Jungkook waits for you at your agreed rendezvous point; for over an hour. You promised to meet him near the campus garden at 7 pm but here it is almost 8 pm and you're a no-show.

He checks his phone for the fourteenth time since arriving–no reply.

Jungkook tries not to jump to conclusions but you broke your word and you ghosted him.

He thinks back to last week when he'd stepped between you and Jun-ho. And when you followed him back to his dorm where he told you he could love and take care of you, as you helped patch his wound. Had he come on too strong? Did you get into more trouble that he didn't know about?

He kicks a few pebbles by his feet, sending them flying in every which way, as the number of endless possibilities rattles his brain.

"Stupid," he cusses himself. "You're just so fucking stupid."

How could he believe that after two short weeks of random run-ins with you that he'd earn your interest? You told him you don't do relationships yet he still shows up, anxiously presenting himself as your knight in shining armor. Any sane person would tell him he was barking up a dead tree.

"Might as well get a head start on next week's homework." Jungkook loses hope, trotting back to the dormitory with the wind howling and mocking behind him.

"What do you mean she ditched you?" The boisterous inquisition belongs to Jackson who's looking thoroughly offended once hearing his new best friend was shown up. He isn't sure how much this woman meant to him, but either way, it makes him livid. Even if you weren't going to go out with him, you should've at least told him like a decent human being.

"I really thought she'd come," Jungkook replies with his heavy eyes. He walks alongside the blonde-haired boy, dirt crunching below his feet. "Guess she had something better to do."

"No." Jackson stops in the middle of the road. "You know who actually has better things to do? It's you. What do you say to hitting up the PC Bang downtown? Play a little League of Legends or Overwatch?"

Jungkook shrugs with less enthusiasm than a snail. "Sure…"

"Hey man," Jackson puts a hand on Jungkook's shoulder. "I'm sorry about you and __. It sucks being stood up. I've had my fair share and you just gotta take it as a blessing that nothing else happened between you both. Nine times out of ten, it didn't have anything to do with you either so don't blame yourself. Take it as a lesson and keep working on yourself until the right person shows up. They'll be the person you can truly give yourself to."

"Hard to believe you've been shown up. You're charismatic, confident, in good shape, have good facial features, and you're getting your MD." Jungkook's aware of his friend's attempt to lift his spirits but he can't fathom anyone not giving Jackson the time of day. Due looks like a pop star in the making.

"Nah, most of what you just said is me bullshitting my way through life. I'm not all that," Jackson rejects, striding forward. "I got rejected by a girl a few days ago myself."

"Had a boyfriend?"

"Nope, just didn't like me. And she doesn't go out with first -years apparently."

"Oh," Jungkook's eyebrows shoot up. "She was an upperclassman?"

"Yup, on her third year."

At this Jungkook's mouth gapes open. "No wonder she said no. What the hell are you doing trying to go out with a third-year?” The accusatory tone spins Jackson's head–he's a sad little puppy with you but a bulldog with him. What a puzzling fellow.

"Same thing you're doing trying to convince someone who doesn't want a relationship to go out with you."

Jungkook dials back his previous assertion. "We're idiots."

"Correction. we're dreamers." Jackson slaps him on the shoulder. "C'mon, let's go burn some shit up at the internet cafe."

By the time he and Jackson get to the cafe nearly all the computers are taken. It's no surprise since PC Bang's are quite a rave amongst university students like themselves. You can play the hottest games for hours while stuffing yourself full with whatever food's served on the cafe menu–all for a small fee of course.

"Let's go here." Jackson manages to grab two free id cards from the counter–guiding them to two empty PCs, side by side to each other. "How long do you want to play for?"

Jungkook sinks himself in the leather gaming chair and powers on the machine in front of him. "I'm good until 6 pm, but then I should head back to my dorm and do homework."

"Cool, same for me. We'll play for three hours then."

"What should we play?" Jungkook tosses the headset over his ears and scrolls through the game options. Jackson does the same.

"Kinda in the mood for LOL." He flips to the game's screen card. "Gonna need to join a team though."

"No problem.," Jungkook clicks the game on his own pc until the loading screen covers his view. "So many people play League of Legends. We'll be able to find one in no time."

Jackson nods and opens LOL himself. "Let's kick some ass."

"Fuck yeah," Jungkook mumbles, inaudible to everyone but himself.

An hour passes and he and Jackson have been hammering their opponents into the digital abyss. The thrill and surge of adrenaline cause him to forget previous heartaches–aka you. Plus, after finding a team of three to jump into; one member who happens to be female, Jungkook's been able to turn his attention to other prospects.

"Soomin, how long have you been playing LOL for?" Jungkook decides to learn more about his female teammate after claiming the final victory over the opposing team.

"Five years," her raspy voice comes through his headset. It sure is a unique voice, he notes.

"Same. We should play on a team more often. In fact, Jackson and I are thinking about building an official LOL team so we could use a third person. You're really good so if you want, we'd love to have you." Beside him, his friend gives him a confused look. 'We are?' he mouths silently which Jungkook ignores.

"Wait really?" She pauses a moment. "I've never been on a permanent team before. I guess that'd be cool."

"I play late at night sometimes too. Meaning if you ever wanna jump on with me shoot me a message or something."

"Alright, I'll jot down your username."

"Already got yours memorized," he says, a tad more cocky than he meant.

"Damn," she cusses. "You work fast. By the way, do you go to university?"

"Yeah, I go to Seoul National University."

"No way, what year are you? I attend there too. I'm a second-year."

"What?!" He nearly hits the ceiling once the information is disclosed. He had no idea Soomin would be this close and that he could meet her in person. call him eager but should he ask her out? No…he's already made that move with you and look where it left him. He'll ask to hang out first. "We should meet Soomin. As long as you don't mind that I'm a first-year that is," Jungkook chuckle lightly and looks over to Jackson who immediately gives him a double thumbs up.

"Well I'm kinda busy this week but how about next week? Also, if it's good with you, can my boyfriend come?"

Fuck. If this is some kinda joke he'd like to catch a break any time now. Not that he was as intrigued with Soomin as he was, or still is, with you but he definitely thought it was going somewhere!

"You're dating?" Jungkook watches Jackson lower his double thumbs up, frowny face on.

"Yeah, we've been together for a year. Met as classmates." When she giggles Jungkook has the unexpected urge to roll his eyes. Of course, you did, he mutters, just a perfectly peachy coincidence for you two.

"Well that's nice," he says bitterly.

"Oh, I'm sorry Jungkook. He's actually calling me now so I have to go but I'll talk to you soon. And message me when you want to meet. I'll tell my boyfriend about you!"

Great. Jungkook bids her goodbye and she signs off.

"Sorry about Soomin. She seemed cute." Jackson slides his headset off his ears to rest them around his neck. "But you know what? You're still a force to be reckoned with inside the virtual world. I honestly don't know how you do it."

Jungkook grins shyly and slips his headset on the desk. "I've been playing for a long time. Must be something to do with that." He throws a hand over his abdomen when his stomach rumbles at the same time. "We should order food." He browses the cafe's extensive menu on his pc. Nothing but rows and rows of tasty options flash back at him, urging him to spend fortunes.

Still, he's got to cap it at some point with only about 2,000,000 Korean won (about 1,500 USD) in his bank account. The Jeon family is wealthy but Jungkook is not. His parents are especially careful to inform him that generational wealth is not going to be given to him freely. Instead, he is to earn his own money, starting at the car wash which he worked at over the summer.

"I'm getting an order of Tteokbokki and a soju. What about you?" Jackson punches in his order, sparing a glance at Jungkook who's tapping on his keyboard with one hand while the other rests under his chin.

"The Jjajangmyeon looks good. I'll get that with a soju too." After Jungkook enters in his own order he strolls his chair out from under the gaming table. "Do you see a bathroom around here?"

"Yeah, it's all the way to that far right corner." Jackson points in that direction with his thumb.

"Okay, I'll be right back."

Bathroom, bathroom, bathroom.

Jungkook repeats the simple word to himself. He scans the corner Jackson gestured towards earlier but sees nothing except a giant blank wall. Must have meant the opposite direction. He turns himself around to scout the other side of the floor.

"Excuse me sir-" a voice chimes close behind him.

"Oh sorry." He steps aside to let the young lady by and as soon as he does his whole body jerks forward in shock. "__!"

You turn around with the tray of food in your hand in what looks like a work uniform. "Yes, what can I do–Kookie?" You grip the plastic tray firmer to keep it from shaking uncontrollably, though the clamminess of your palms makes it a challenging task. Seeing Jungkook at the place you work was bound to happen being that the PC Bang is close to the university. You just weren't prepared for it to be tonight during one of your last shifts of the season.

"I didn't know you worked here."

"Yeah, only part-time." After bumping into Jungkook moments ago, you found it inevitable to avoid him further. You agreed to meet him outside once your break started. "I'm planning on leaving before the semester gets crazy. I have about a week left probably."

It dawns on Jungkook that he doesn't know what you study so with shifty eyes and clenched fists, he asks. "What are you going for?"

"Engineering." You can tell he wasn't expecting that for an answer; most don't be a woman in the field and all. "Jungkook, let's not do this. I'm sorry about what happened the other night." A sick queasy feeling settles in your gut–you're well aware you did Jungkook wrong. You're not proud of it in the slightest and him standing in front of you right now only reminds you of your guilt.

"I waited for you __. You said you come even if it was a rejection." A twinge of hurt laces behind his words and he keeps a controlled stance. He doesn't get in your face, demanding for an answer, nor does he break down and cry. He's more inquisitive than anything else. "Where were you? Why didn't you come?"

"I–" You intertwine your fingers, a nervous habit you picked up in childhood. "I panicked Kookie. I'm so sorry."

Jungkook stiffens when he hears the endearing name drop from your soft lips again. It was nice at first but now it feels like a sharp pain twisting in his side, like a thorn only for his misery. "Can you not call me that, please? It's–It's making me uncomfortable."

"Oh god," you lunge forward out of instinct but freeze when he steps back. "Jungkook I really am sorry. I was planning to see you. I had my shoes on and everything. Like I said I panicked, I'm not suited for relationships. And I'm not suited for you."

The last part stings the most.

"But–"

“There’s no buts Jungkook." You place your hand on the door of the building. " I have to get back to work."

"Wait!"Jungkook moves to face in front of you from an angle. "You say you're not suited for relationships but why did you get ready to see me? Why didn't you just say no to me? And last week when you told me you needed more time to think…was it a lie?"

"Because I like you okay? You're cute, protective, sweet, but you like me too much." you release the handle. "You don't know anything about me yet you've already got into a fistfight with an obscene jerk for me and claim you'll wait for me even when you just met me. If you love me this much now how much more will you love me later?"

" I'll love you for eternity."

"See this is it, Jeon. You saying stuff like this before anything real has happened between us–it's too much. How can you be this devoted to basically a stranger? You'll love me for eternity but have you considered that maybe I won't?"

"What are you saying?"

"What makes you think I'll love you as much as you do me?"

" I don't think like that __. I don't want a relationship so I can see what I can get. that's not how my mind works. I understand that I've been very forward with you. I should have been more conscientious about how that would make you feel but when I say that I love–"

"Please, don't drop the 'L' word. If you're saying love then you don't love me; only the idea of me."

Jungkook pauses, wordless

"Never thought of it that way huh? Guess not. Let me ask you something…do you know what I do? With men?"

He swallows and shakes his head no

"I sleep with them. A new guy a week if not twice a week. People call me a whore, and I'm spreading my legs for everyone and anyone willing. Do you want to get involved with someone like that?" You wipe away an escaped tear.

"I don't care about that at all __."

"Well, you should! This is who I am Jungkook. I can't let you be responsible for me. So unless you want a one-night stand or a friends-with-benefits relationship, I suggest you forget about me. I can't be your girlfriend."

"__!" Your manager shoves the front door open, causing you and Jungkook to jolt in surprise. " Where have you been? We have about twenty orders that need to be served."

"Sorry Manager Choi. I'll get right on it." You spare Jungkook one last glance before disappearing back inside the PC Bang. "I'm sorry," you say with a lowered head.

That night Jungkook lays on his bed, thumb hovering over your name in his contacts list. His logical side whispers for him to delete it. His heart says to call, text, or do something to–no. He remembers your pained facial expression; on the verge of tears as you explained to him that he'd been too quick in making his mind up about you. But then he replays your final words.

"…unless you want a one-night stand or a friends-with-benefits relationship, I suggest you forget about me. I can't be your girlfriend."

Well, he doesn't want the first two but if it meant he could be in your life longer–stop. His logical side intrudes. "You don't want to go down that path," he matters to himself. "It's better if you just delete the number." Jungkook moves to tap the trash can icon on your phone contact, a pang in his chest. Just as he's mustered up enough strength his phone buzzes off, screen lighting the entirety of the darkened dorm room. His roommate groans at the sound and rolls over in their bed.

"Jungkook," said roommate rubs his face. "I have an 8:15 tomorrow morning. Please speak take it in the hallway."

Jungkook quietly jumps out of bed not solely because of courtesy to his roommate but also because it's from you.

"Jungkook… can you um…"

"__?" He eases the door shut behind him and paces up and down the hallway. "Are you there?"

"Can you meet me at the bus stop near the campus library/ I'm sorry to be asking you it's just that…Jun-ho's–"

"What is it? Are you okay? What about Jun-ho?"

" I'm taking the bus back from work and he's on the same one he keeps staring at me and I'm scared of following me back to my dorm. Please Kookie-Jungkook I mean. I don't have any right to ask you, I know. He won't try anything with the bus driver here but once I get off I'll be alone. I have some pepper spray in my bag–"

"Yes, yes I'll be right there. How far are you out?" This isn't about pursuing you, impressing you, or anything like that anymore; it's about your safety. Jungkook leaps into his room, grabs his wallet, and shoves the sneakers on his feet. "__? Did you hear me?"

" I'm five minutes from the stop. Oh, he's, he's still staring at me."

"Don't look at him __. I'm walking down right now. Stay on the phone with me. I'll be waiting for you when you get there okay?"

"Thank you Kook. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. If Jun-ho's tracking you down like a wolf, it'll be his funeral." The icy tone in Jungkook's typically warm, milky tone sends a shiver up your spine.

The bus you're on pulls up in exactly five minutes, as you estimated. Jungkook frantically searches for you through the window glass, growling when he sees Jun-ho standing up a few rows behind you. He makes sure to be as close to the bus's exit doors as possible so he can grab your hand as soon as you step out.

"Hey!" He greets you loudly. "How was your shift?"

"Great! We were running around like crazy but thankfully, I didn't have to work through the night." You cling his hand tighter, slinging your other arm around his.

"That's a blessing." Jungkook and you walk faster, putting more space between you and Jun-ho. "You must be tired."

"Oh yeah, I can't wait to slee–ah!" You trip over a ledge on the sidewalk. Jungkook grips you before you completely fall flat on your behind.

"New feet?" He can't help but joke and you slap his arm. Jungkook helps straighten you back up, your hands remain interlocked. When it comes to a split in the road, you and Jungkook filter to the right side towards the female dorms. You hope to god Jun-ho takes the left.

"He's such a fucker." Jungkook curses, peering over his shoulder just enough to see Jun-ho faltering at the intersection. He burns holes at both of you so much that it makes Jungkook feel like kneeing him in the gut but he doesn't want to provoke the bastard–putting you in unpredictable danger. "I'll get you to your dorm. Which one is yours?"

"Up ahead." You gesture at the brick building with the number 318.

"We can let go of our hands now." You're the first to speak after arriving outside your dorm.

Jun-ho thankfully did not follow you any more than back at the split in the path between male and female dorms. The fact that he still attends school here makes your skin crawl. You don't exactly like calling people a mistake but Jun-ho is by far an exception. You messed around with the guy one time while you both were a bit tipsy and he keeps hounding you. If you need to, you will make him stay away from you permanently.

"Promise me you'll get a restraining order on him if this happens again or gets worse." Jungkook ignores your suggestion to release your hands. "That idiot has no right to be around you."

"I will. Thank you for coming out. I was nervous to call you being what happened earlier. I truly, from the bottom of my heart, am sorry. And I know having to go back to work left things hanging so if there's anything else you wanted to talk about or tell me, please feel free."

"Anything for you–" slips out of his mouth before he can stop it. He slaps a hand over his mouth instantly, you chuckle softly.

"It's okay Jungkook," you reassure. "I can tell you wear your heart on your sleeve. You're naturally very accommodating and flattering."

"And you're beautiful. Damnit, I did it again. I'm sorry __, but whenever I look at you I feel butterflies and I say a lot of fluffy stuff. I'm not trying to flirt or impress you by using what can be in the right context, shallow methods. But yeah, I was thinking about what happened at the cafe earlier tonight and I think get it–I've been too quick to the draw. I'm honestly not sure why I'm so attracted to you other than the fact that you're breathtakingly gorgeous in literally every way, both physical and non-physical. It makes me want to know you more. And the fact that assholes like Jun-ho won't leave you alone makes me want to be your personal bodyguard or something. I don't lift as much as him but fuck, I can keep him in his place. I'm starting to sound crazy, aren't I? It's like you said, we're strangers after all…right?"

Jungkook waits for you to respond. The cool autumn air is crisp against your cheeks, not cold enough to see your own breath, but enough to have you secretly grateful for the warmth that comes from his hand. That's right, you've been clinging onto his hand for dear life for the past fifteen or more minutes. You should probably let go now if weren't for the fact that he's also clinging onto yours just as hard.

"You really want to know me Kookie?" You brush a few strands of his hair that have blown in front of his eyes. He's incredibly handsome now…how did you not see it before? Sure he's cute with his bunny-like smile, mole on his button nose, and his adorable voice that makes you oh so soft and comfortable inside. But he's also handsome with his piercing oak tree-colored eyes, perfectly sharp jaw, and eager yet tenacious energy that always seems to show up for you.

Jungkook takes your other hand in his, swinging them between you both. "Of course," his earnest voice chippers. "It’s next to impossible for me not to want to know you. I'm sure I'll eventually move on if that's what you really want, but if there's another alternative that can avoid that I'd like to take it. You seem to be in deep thought about something…" he switches up his response when he notices you don't look as alert as you usually do. “__.”

"I'm here," you say, the tiniest bit dazed. "I was just thinking about something."

"Yeah I know, but about what?"

You swallow before replying. “…You.”

Jungkook smiles sheepishly. You're unsure if he's pleased or nervous. "Is it–is it something good or should we leave it here?"

"Are you free tomorrow?" You bite the inside of your cheek, begging yourself not to take it back. "It's Sunday so I get if you have some last-minute studying to do. Just thought maybe we could do something….together." Jungkook goes to reply, cheeks more than raised but you continue speaking before he sounds a word. "It's not a date per se. I'm being crazy annoying but I'd like to be friends first with something extra."

"You said no to friends before though. This isn't an offer to be friends with benefits is it?"

"That was when I wasn't sure what I wanted with you if anything. I didn't want to take advantage of you or anything. I want to start as friends so we can see if we can somehow be more. I'm interested in you Jungkook so no, not friends with benefits but rather, friends with the potential to be more."

"Okay," Jungkook squeezes your hands. "I can do that. What do you want to do? What time do you want to meet? What do you want me to wear?"

"First of all, if we're going to do this I'm going to need you to treat me like your bro. Wear what you want, we can meet afternoon and we'll figure it what to do along the way." You think your suggestion is fair yet it's crystal clear that it's not ideal for Jungkook, given the pout on his face.

"I don't want you to be my bro though," he whines.

"We start as bros or we're not hanging out." You're firm because you want this to work but you know yourself, and you need to take this slow.

"No wait, okay. Bro it is. You'll be the prettiest bro of mine."

"Jungkook," you snort, undignified. "That sounds weird."

He shrugs, "I'm weird when I'm with my friends. Especially when they're as pretty as you, it makes me all dumb because I can't seem to think straight anymore."

"Alright Romeo," you say, face flushing. "Save the rest for tomorrow."

<< ch. II ༓ ch. IV >> | series masterlist

A/N: This was originally going to be three chapters but it will be extended 😶 Lmk what you think and if you wanna to be tagged fill out tag form or ask 💞

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