#sweet pea the merge

[residenthughes]

coming home - connor dewar

pairing: connor dewar x fem! reader

word count: 11k

tags/warning: friends to lovers, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, slight angst?, mentions of alcohol/drinking, minor swearing

summary: your entire life has entailed having connor by your side, no matter where the universe carves your paths. back home for the summer leading up to your final year of university, there's much to ponder - even your own feelings about your best friend.

notes: this is genuinely a labour of love, the longest fic i've written in a long time 😭 i wanted this to be short and sweet, but it's long and sweet and i don't know how to feel about that lmao. but (!!!) i am really proud/happy about how this has come together and i hope you all enjoy this fic just as much as i loved writing it 😇 this is mostly proofread, but it is 5 in the morning, so I'll return to this soon! (apologizes for any errors towards the end!) more dewey content shall be coming soon, hehe! much love! <333

(also! this is very much in celebration of dewey's first goal as a leaf, teehee! 😁💗⭐️)

Summer’s always your favourite time of the year. Tan lines, midnight drives, fireworks, the beach. So much sweetness is in the breezy summer air and you simply can’t get enough. You wouldn’t admit it, but your favourite part of the season is when one of your closest friends, Connor, comes up from his gruelling hockey season and returns to the slow and laid-back lifestyle of your small town. Having grown up next door neighbours the majority of your lives, you quickly became two peas in a pod, always together with laughter following closeby.

Your friendship is something you’ve always treasured, held in some reclusive and special part of your heart that only houses your fated connection. No matter how mundane your time together may be - Connor strumming his acoustic guitar and you reading as the citrus sunset dips into the horizon - it's all so memorable to you and nothing, as you’ve come to experience, can ever replace his place in your life. However, life is a constant cycle of change and that first dose came when you two were fourteen, too awkward for your own good and growing out of your bodies. Connor was selected to play in a high-level hockey league hours away from your hometown and as your fingertips buried themselves into his tear-soaked t-shirt, you swore nothing could compare to this pain. The absolute tear of your beating heart out of your raw chest that ached with every gasp. You were a mess, undeterred by your futile attempt to appear as nonchalant at your silly age, but the second Connor stood on your porch, luggage in hand and the sadest tinge in his sage eyes, you fell apart.

Despite the sheer anguish you experienced that crisp autumn day, you adjusted. Stayed in contact with your best friend and continued to build up your life in his absence. Completed all your teenage rites of passage - took some extracurriculars, went to prom (you wanted to ask Connor, but ultimately decided against it), graduated high school and started attending university in Calgary - nine hours away from home. So many things changed and some still stayed the same. Connor was still as hockey obsessed and through his diligent efforts, he’s achieved his dreams of playing in the NHL night after night. You were there for draft day and there for his first game, university be damned. As was Connor, in the stands during your high school graduation and any time you needed him, whether that was him sitting on the phone with you until four in the morning or meeting up with you halfway across two countries because he felt like it. There was always something so spectacular about you two, your stories detailed by destiny and hung amongst the stars. A divine creation that despite the odds, of paths that have taken you two elsewhere, always merged because that is simply how it’s meant to be.

And, so it is, your last summer before your final year and here you are, fingertips tapping against the wooden bar as your leg jerks in anticipation of a figure that will come through your hometown bar, Punch & Judy’s doors any minute now.

Your best friend, Charlotte, manages to interweave your antsy fingers in between hers, a nurturing smile across her smooth face. “He’ll get here, don’t worry.”

Your eyebrows quirk, your legs stopping all motion. “Who said anything about worrying?”

She rolls her eyes, unamused. “You know what I mean,”

Then, she goes on to untangle your fingers, leaning her crossed arms against the bar occupied by the usual mellow group of regulars, including your own bunch of friends. “Besides, you know him. Knowing you’re here, he’s tryna get here quicker than a New York minute.”

A funny feeling flips in the pits of your stomach, an immediate flush coating the apples of your cheeks as you clumsily grab at your cider bottle. Connor always poked fun at your inability to enjoy a cold one, resorting to fruity flavours of cider. “He’s a law-abiding citizen, he’ll wait for the greenlight even if it kills him.”

“If you say so,” Charlotte casts you a glance out of the corner of her eye, smugness tugging at the corners of her lips as she takes another swig of her beer. The bell signifying the main door opening sounds in the background. “Oh, look. Speak of the devil and he shall appear! Hey there, stranger!”

Suddenly, your attention is elsewhere, eyes pinned to the tall silhouette that struts through the doorway of the LED ridden bar, kind eyes and a kinder smile with his tousled hickory hair and hushed voice finding its way to your eardrums again after so long. It’s like coming home again, watching from afar as close friends fall into endless hugs, your reunion saved for last as you beam a closed mouthed smile, reproduced by your best friend who opens his arms for a hug that solely belongs to you. You fall into him instinctively, inhaling his soft woody scent as you bury yourself in his embrace, the pendulum of your life coming to a pause as your universe centres.

“Get a room, you two!” Connor’s brother, Quinn taunts from over your shoulder, eliciting an exaggerated sigh from you as you’re reluctantly reminded of the lame chirps he seems to be full of whenever you and Connor are together.

You ignore him, savouring the moment for what its momentarily worth before Connor’s pulling away, arms loosely wrapped around the circumference of your waist as he peers down at you with those same green eyes you’ve known your entire life.

“Hi.” you breathe, short and sweet.

He simpers, something coy in the lines of his smile as he replies back, “hi.”

It’s a simple greeting, but there’s so much more in those few syllables - the endless gravity of your shared experiences and fondest memories making their way back to each other. Your eyes linger for a minute longer, taking in each other’s presence that’s long been missed due to your busy schedules leading up to your summer break. You part ways and despite how fulfilled you are to have him here and see him after some time, there’s a small knack that nags at you - hollow and wanting as you venture to a booth nearby, squishing up in between Charlotte and another one of your guy friends, Owen Power, who like Connor has been busting his ass in the NHL and friends with you all for longer than you can remember. You all chatter amongst yourselves with Connor’s brother sitting across from you, a discussion brewing as Connor returns shortly after getting a drink at the bar, sliding beside his brother with a beer in hand.

“Come on, Connie. Help me out here, these guys have lost the plot.” His brother argues, an eye roll your response.

Connor looks between your group, a knit in his eyebrows. “What’s the deal?”

“They’re tryna say, get this - that dolphins are more dangerous than damn orcas. Can you believe that?” Quinn attests, expression pinched as he ruffles the curls of his bleached hair sticking out his snapback.

“Hey! We’re well within reason to be arguing with you. You on the other hand? I don’t think so.” Charlotte proclaims, an accusatory finger directed towards Quinn.

“Yeah, not gonna lie, Quinn. You’re severely underestimating how evil dolphins are,” concludes Owen, his hand raised as he pushes up his glasses on the bridge of his sunkissed nose.

Quinn guffaws, jaw slack as his eyes flicker between everyone’s faces in quick succession, clearly in disbelief. “Are you hearing this right now?”

“Look, Q - we’ve been over this,” you start, hands extending as if to make sense of your proposed point. “You’ve been fed dolphin propaganda. We’ve literally shown you so many resources about their heinous crimes. Take it or leave it.”

Quinn groans, elbowing his older brother who wordlessly listens to the ongoing conversation. “Bro! A little help would be nice.”

A brief pause follows his younger brother’s melodrama, Connor weighing out the arguments of a conversation he hadn’t been here for, his eyes flickering over towards yours fleetingly. An unexplained shiver runs down your spine, the action camouflaged poorly as you appear to distract yourself from the sensation, fingernails scratching against the lines of your neck as you look up at the ceiling.

“Hello?!” hollers Quinn.

You swear he loves to hear himself talk.

“They’re right,” Connor concludes, eyes set on you as he speaks before he takes a swig of his beer, focusing back onto his brother. “Personally, I think you’ve been taking one too many trips to Sea World.”

“The promised land of dolphin propaganda.” mentions Charlotte.

“This is ridiculous!” Quinn exclaims, sending a heavy elbow into his older brother’s arm, all of which barely gains any sort of response from him. “What happened to honour amongst bros, huh? They don’t have that in Minnesota or what?”

Connor scoffs lightly, his smile reading amused as his head turns towards his brother. “That doesn’t mean I have to agree with everything you say.”

Quinn mumbles something under his breath, clearly displeased. “I forget you’re my harshest critic.”

Their double act entices the crowd, your circle of friends laughing amongst yourselves as Quinn folds his shoulders with his usual theatrics. No one buys into it, much less Connor who drapes his arm loosely around his brother’s squared shoulders, leaning in with a tickled pink smile that reflects within your own expression.

“You’re just mad I won’t kiss your ass.”

That earns him a shove off Quinn’s shoulders, sending him into a fit of laughter. Everyone chortles along, basking in the merriment of the moment before you’re delving into other non-controversial topics, indulging everyone in the bits and pieces of your lives they’ve missed and just like that, you're four drinks in and so sentimental it hurts. Owen suggests a walk around the town centre, a tradition you cannot help but all agree to as you all shimmy out of your respective booth, bidding Judy at the bar farewell as you file out of the establishment.

The cobalt sky dazzles with stars you’ve forgotten shine so bright here, the midday heat nowhere in sight as a cool breeze pushes you forwards. You linger behind Quinn as he impulsively hops onto Owen’s back, who stumbles at the sudden weight whilst Charlotte laughs at the unfolding scene. Nostalgia warms your heart at the sight, eyes half-closed and posture relaxing as the warm summer night holds you close and kisses your worries goodbye.

An arm drapes over your shoulders, your slow strides matching up with Connor’s as he looks to you, smile small and earnest as he playfully challenges, “Since when did you know about dolphin propaganda?”

You gasp, humour shaping your lips. “Well, you’ve been in my ear most of my life yapping about it, so…”

“Hey, I’m just saying - was I wrong?” the smirk on his face attests to his unwavering confidence and as you catch a whiff of his woody cologne, you roll your eyes in defeat, smile still on your lips.

“Considering you wore a shark tooth to school, I didn’t think so.”

You have to bite back the wide smile that fights to spread across your face, a few snickers here and there escaping before the loose ring around your shoulders closes in, Connor smushing your face inwards against the strength of his bicep. You can’t help but laugh throughout, swatting away his pesky grip that lasts no longer than a few seconds before all you hear is the echoes of your winded chuckles. In an effort to stabilise yourself from the momentary loss of oxygen, your hand seeks Connor’s, holding onto his larger and warmer as your feet hit the pavement in unison.

“Feels good to be back, doesn’t it?”

You let your head fall to Connor’s shoulder, arm wrapping around his lower back as your steps sync with such ease. A lightness in your limbs and how perceptive you can be to the sounds of downtown - car horns, hushed chatter and the like - let you know there’s nowhere you’d rather be right now than here. Back at home, with your best friends and your partner in crime who you answer in the form of a hum.

-

Your first few days back in the Pas are slow and uneventful, most of your time spent decompressing from the taxing semester and unpacking your items, all of which you didn’t know just how much you possessed. In an effort to make the most of the sunshine and get out the house for reasons other than your part time job at the local diner, you sign up for community gardening activities and ask the groupchat if anyone wants to come along. Everyone appears to have plans, except for Connor, who in the early hours of the next morning, picks you up from your childhood home and drives into town where for the next few hours, you’re knee deep in dirt under the blaring sun as you plant various kinds of greenery to spotlight the natural beauty of your rustic town.

What is certain, when early afternoon pours in, painting the sky in shades of honey and tangerine, you’re exhausted beyond belief. You have no idea how Connor makes the drive home, yet he does and when you two collapse into the hammock in your family’s backyard, your lips are slack and echoing more yawns than you can contain.

“That was great and all, but that’s knocked me out,” Connor groans, limp body shuffling in the confinements of the cotton hammock hanging off one of the trees in your backyard. The same tree which holds the treehouse you and Connor partially lived in throughout your youth. “That was more tiring than hockey practice.”

You’re tired and easily distracted, your head perched up in a way that puts the treehouse in your direct eye-line. “Remember when we’d watch movies in that treehouse?”

A brief pause follows, occupied by the tranquil chirps and running water from the nearby bird bath. “Yeah, I’d always wanna watch Jaws but you wanted to watch Disney movies.”

You give him a laugh, shuffling yourself in order to get comfortable in the small space. Why did you two think this would work like it did ten years ago? The thought occurs to you, but you brush it off to save yourself additional mental load, making the adjustments to cater to some form of comfortability in the tiny space. Even if that means sacrificing your shared personal space as your body overlaps onto Connor’s strong and firm one.

“Says the guy who knows the all the songs in Lemonande Mouth,” you counter, “And, Let it Shine.”

Without missing a beat, in his sleepy voice, Connor replies with, “kissy kissy, Roxanne, did you miss me?”

Groaning despite the snickers slipping past your lips, you bury your head into Connor’s chest, refusing to hear the rest of his ramblings. “My girl is hotter than your girl, you know it! You know it.”

To get your point across, you unbury your head, wide eyes peering up at your best friend who’s so amused by this all, hair messy and smile stretching from ear to ear. A bright sight. “Can you not?”

“You’re just hating 'cause I sing better than you.” He follows that by sticking his tongue out at you, so mature for his age that you grant him the response of a heavy sigh and an averted gaze, settling back into the peace and serenity of your backyard.

However, the silence doesn’t last long before you’re speaking again.

“Your hair’s getting long,” you observe, fingertips dancing along Connor’s nape as you absently fiddle with the long strands of his hair, silky between your fingers. “You should let me cut it.”

“Name a time and place, and I’ll be there,” he mumbles sleepily against the crown of your head, soothing you further towards a serene sleep. “Unless you fuck it up. Then, I won’t forgive you.”

You give him the satisfaction of a laugh tucked away in your chest, the ghost of a smile dissipating as the aches of a hard work’s start to plunge their teeth into your flesh and bones, body like cement as you sink further into the comfort of the hammock, into the comfort of your calm summer afternoon.

“One of my friends from my team’s supposed to be coming up for a night or two,” Connor croaks, voice hoarse and the gentle breeze of the summer’s day pecking your skin in an act of love. “Think…you’ll all get along with him quite well.”

His point is punctuated by a tired yawn that proves to be contagious as you mirror the action moments after, eyes unbearably heavy as time moves slow like molasses, body further sinking against Connor’s. You don’t even stop yourself from falling asleep, only blinking away the exhausted sting in your eyes to answer your best friend.

“Can’t wait,” you mumble, adjusting your body against Connor as your limbs slot together like puzzle pieces, matched at every curve as slumber envelopes you two in a kind embrace. “It’ll be good - the visit…and the rest of summer.”

Your words trail in a drowsy daze, tone doused in sleepiness as your eyes can no longer keep themselves open, glimpses of hickory branches and pear leaves wishing you peace and serenity as you finally fall asleep.

-

Your shift at the local diner passes without as much traffic as expected, local patrons ordering their usual with a few tourists dropping by to try the culinary experience of your average but nostalgic diner food. Due to how quiet the establishment is - Mabel, your boss and long-time owner of the diner - lets you off early and with a hug, you scurry back to your family house to get ready for the night's events. After dozing off with Connor in the hammock out back, your mother softly awoke to you with a holler she’s used since the dawn of time.

“Up and at ‘em, kids. Dinner’s ready!” in the distance of your dreams, you hear your mother yell.

With drowsy film still coating your eyes, you and Connor manage to dislodge your limbs from one another, sleepy smiles and croaky chuckles exchanged as you amble inside your house and Connor stays for a filling homemade meal that everyone at the dining table fawns over. Connor hangs back as you venture into the kitchen to wash up, a tradition you two have forged, him washing the dishes and you drying them. Not much dialogue takes place between the two of you and there is no need. For all the instances where you believed the need for conversation, you appreciate this silence so much more - how there’s no urge to talk for the sake of talking and how much comfort there is with simply just being with Connor. After you’ve done the washing up and Connor’s hugged your mother goodbye, fist bumping your father hilariously enough, he’s climbing into his car and wishing you well.

“You sure you don’t need me to pick you up from Mabel’s?” coaxes Connor, the wiggle of his eyebrows offsetting the echoes of titters that leave your lips.

“I’m good, thanks. Need to shower and get ready, anyways,” a gentle gust of wind blows, fallen leaves scraping against the cement of your driveway. “We all know how long that takes.”

“I don’t mind waiting.” Connor simpers, says like it’s the easiest thing in the world and like it doesn’t demand for the city of butterflies within you to soar beyond their ability.

You flash a strained smile, giving the top of Connor’s car a pat as your posture straightens and you step away from the vehicle. “Goodbye, Connor.”

“See you soon.” and just like that, he’s gone with the wind, taking a little piece of you with him.

It’s when you’re strolling your way back inside the house, halfway up the stairs to your bedroom that your mom gives you a gentle call, beckoning you back down the stairs to find her in the dimly lit living room, mahogany reading glasses hanging low on the bridge of her nose whilst the quiet snores of your father and his baseball game fill in the background noise.

She folds her newspaper, crinkles running up your spine as she addresses you. “So good to have Connie over, makes me miss him more when he’s away.”

Connor is like a son to her, the better part of your childhood glued at the hip whilst your parents cooed and awed at your loyalty to one another. He helps around the house with no complaint nor expectation of compensation, buys her favourite flowers every Mother’s day with an additional heartfelt gift come her birthday. He listens, he jokes and he cares. What more could she ask for?

“Can’t imagine how much more you miss him whilst you’re away.” she comments, throwing her denim clad leg over the other, directing all her attention to you, swaying between two feet with your hands behind your back, sceptical.

“Well, we try to meet up when we can, so it’s not too bad,” your hand goes to scratch the back of your neck, chin jutted as your head leans to the side. “…Is that why you called me down?”

Awkwardness rarely rears its head in your household built upon openness and unconditional love, which is why the unspoken truth your mother struggles to vocalise raises a red flag, your skin prickling as you fiddle with your hands behind your back.

She’s looking at you now, a maternal love in her eyes as she speaks up. “Maybe, I can’t really put my finger on it, really. I did, however, want to say that I hope you guys keep each other in your lives, however that may pan out in the future. There’s a special happiness in your eyes I want you two to be selfish with.”

It’s a small thing, she says. A snowflake amongst the pile of snow in the realms of your mind, but as you lay in bed later on that late afternoon, staring at the gold stars Connor helped hang up in your room, your mind wanders places it never conceptualised. Inserts Connor in places in your life where he hadn’t been previously - opposite you illuminated by a candle-lit dinner, dancing in a kitchen as you prepare breakfast and kiss each other in between, above your bare body as he holds you in the palm of his hand like you are the most precious thing the universe has gifted him. It’s a point in time that despite busying yourself with dipping your toes back into your hobbies - heck, even walking your next door neighbour’s golden retriever to clear your head - it never quite leaves you, awakening something deep and dormant in you that never goes away.

Snapping out of your syrupy daze, you adorn yourself in your finest line dance clothing, slipping on your gingerbread cowboy boots before you’re tying bows in the pigtails of your hair. Your mother yells down the stairs for you and you leave in a flash, kissing her goodbye as she drops you off at Punch and Judy’s, your jewellery clinking together as you walk through the main entrance.

Much like your first night back, the bar is illuminated in dim light and sharp LED lights of varying colours. Cowboy hats dominate the sea of customers, the building crowd of the bar dressed in shades of denim and tired leather cowboy boots. Knowing the others have already arrived, saving a spot at a nearby booth, you decide to make your way to the bar first, ordering your signature berries-flavoured cider, to which Punch (co-owner) makes quick work of, the cold beverage in your hands before you can blink.

“Beer not to your liking, sugar?” A smoky, mellow voice grabs your attention.

You spare a glance at the source of the gravel voice, eyes long lingering as they capture the image of a face that stirs a flip in the pits of your stomach. The man stood beside you braces his muscular arms against the hickory brown of the wooden bar, his sleepy chocolate eyes trained on yours as he takes a swig of his tequila flavoured Desperado beer. Locks of umber messily cascade along his face, unless tucked away in his vintage black cowboy hat that ties together the rugged cowboy look he presents with the sweet addition of his light stubble. To make things worse, he’s stupidly fit, his black t-shirt clinging to the curves of his muscles like second skin. If it were up to you, you’d-

“Like what you see?”

The smug comment snaps you out of your hazy olge, a pout forming upon your lips with an accompanying knit in your eyebrows. You make a point to angrily grab at your pint glass, ingesting a big gulp of the sugary alcohol whilst the rugged cowboy laughs to himself.

Even his laugh is attractive. Sick bastard.

“Coming from a man drinking a Desperado? Funny,” you have to laugh at whatever lame attempt of making conversation this man is pulling, Punch masking his misplaced laughter behind a cough as he polishes a pint glass. “How flirtatious you are.”

You admit, your latter remark is more bark than bite, a quick chirp that refuses to feed his ego yet grab his interest all at the same time. The ruse proves to work in your favour as the sexy cowboy gives another one of his huffed laughs, his body turned towards yours.

“Give me a chance, sugar. Just tryna start the night off right,” he counters, so brazenly confident in himself that you don’t know whether to laugh or shy away from his prying eyes. “Tequila beer and beautiful company - sounds about perfect to me.”

You react in a juxtaposition, eyes rolling and cheeks flushing as you divert your line of sight away from the handsome man flirting with you at your hometown bar. Perhaps, he’s some city folk travelling through the town, fancying himself a good time at Punch & Judy’s weekly hoedown Fridays, a little bit of flirting on the side to inflate his ego and keep his blood pumping. Whatever reason explains his presence, you are not one to complain. Your love life isn't very entertaining to put it mildly, so you're willing yourself not to get swept up in his caramel eyes.

Against the wishes of your quickening heart, you decide to give Mr. Handsome Traveller the time of day, body shifting as you face each other finally. “You don’t quit, don’t you?”

He cocks an eyebrow your way, something sneaky and sugary in the lines of his smile. A brief pause follows his actions, the soft rustic sounds of old town country murmuring from the jukebox nearby filling up in the space between your figures. It’s when he’s about to make yet another cocky comment that your conversation is put on pause.

Connor’s voice calls your name, head turning to find your best friend standing in between you and the Punch & Judy’s cowboy of the night, eyes wide and expectant as they shift back and forth in the middle of your standing figures.

“Dew, forget about Desperados tonight. The lady in bows will have your head otherwise.” Handsome Traveller nods his chin towards you, humour dancing in his smile as he snickers into his half-full glass.

Then, it dawns on you. Dew? One of the handful of nicknames Connor’s adopted over the course of his livelihood. So, they’re acquaintances? Or closer? Your eyes frantically search for social clues to point you in the right direction.

“The lady in bows is my best friend,” Connor explains, a bite to his words as his eyes glare a knowing look at Sexy Cowboy. He then goes on to face you, gaze softening almost immediately as his head tilts in his friends (?) direction. “This is Brandon, or Dewey One.”

Oh. Makes sense, you rationalise. This is Brandon, Connor’s close friend and teammate on his current team out in Minnesota, the one who gets into fights he can’t win on the ice whilst Connor trails nearby picking up his fallen gear. The one he told you a couple of days ago that was coming up to visit. And, of course you were flirting with him.

Of. Course.

“Dewey One?” you ask, minorly deflecting from your embarrassment and still genuinely curious.

Connor inhales, as if to speak but Brandon beats him to it.

“Brandon’s just fine,” he interjects, expression unassuming as Connor’s eyes put his visiting friend underneath a microscope. “Nice to meet you, darling.”

Normally, you’d wrinkle your nose at the sometimes sleazy pet name Brandon casually calls you, except this time round you find it more amusing than cringe-worthy, which is how you find yourself grinning as you two exchange a handshake that testifies to how strong Brandon is. You clear your throat to stop the circus unfolding within you.

“Come on,” Connor gestures over to you to follow suit. “Can’t keep ‘em waiting.”

You call out an agreement over your shoulder as you go to grab your drink, the hairs on the back of your neck stand to attention as a close whisper brushes past your ears.

“I ain’t no quitter, sugar.”

-

The next couple of hours are spent packed into a crimson leather booth that peels at the ends, going from topic to topic over many a pints. Brandon fits so easily into your group, his infectious energy illuminating as he takes up space without regard, his confidence more enticing than suffocating. Everyone seems to be in good spirits as the alcohol keeps flowing and as you sit back, careful eyes watching your friends engage in conversation, you wish for this to be your forever for as long as you'd like for it to be.

A nudge against your shoulder turns your head, greeted by Connor’s sage eyes. “You ready for Judy’s Line Dance?”

His rhetorical question draws a laugh from you. “You say that like I don’t do this every time I come back.”

“Yeah, but if you were ready then, you would’ve brought your cowboy hat,” comments Connor, his veiny hands grasping gently at the ends of your braided pigtails accented with a bow. “What? Wanted to show off your pretty bows?”

He thumbs the ends of your hair, engrossed in the strands and its feel and for some reason, the casual intimacy of the moment inflates something in your chest, a balloon about to burst as you forcibly breathe in and out, clearing your throat afterwards. “They're my favourite accessories.”

Connor huffs, corners of his lips lifting gingerly as he continues his motions with his hands whilst your body remains rigid with the exception of your racing heart and crimsoning cheeks.

Your mother has definitely planted a seed you cannot unroot.

“Yeah, you’re almost always wearing them in your BeReal. posts. They’re real cute.”

For a fact you know so well, Connor’s confession comes as a pleasant surprise, one that shallows your breaths and quickens your pulse. It makes you reflect back on before, when all was platonic and the comment wouldn’t have made you bat an eyelash. Now, your skin tingles and you’re struggling to find the words to encapsulate your affection past your dry mouth. So, like many others in your position, you settle for a safe reply.

“Aren’t you a charmer?” you roll your eyes, brushing off his grasp because you might combat otherwise, projecting your attention ahead of you to come face-to-face with Brandon, who despite the engaging conversation he shares with Owen, his eyes skirt over to you.

You look away, even more flustered than before.

It’s just your luck when you hear Judy’s tap incessantly against an old microphone that you have something else to hold your focus, eyes brimming with glee as she announces the dances for the night and their updated partner songs. Last time you were here, they were still playing their beloved country hits and you danced along thanks to the amounts of alcohol you consumed, but their new playlist of pop hits within the past decade or so, you’re more motivated than ever to tear apart the dance floor.

“If you ain’t shy to do a little two step, please make your way to the dancefloor please.” Judy grins into her mic, tipping her cowboy hat as patrons make their way over to the illuminated space.

Connor makes way for you to exit the booth, your boots hitting the ground as you iron out any kinks in your outfit. Amidst your actions, you catch other movements out of the corner of your eyes, to which you find Connor playing with the ends of your bow this time round. There’s always been something so sweet and tender about him - in the way clouds are amongst a blue sky, in the way laughter spills over so easily in the presence of a found family and in how harmonies make you feel as if you're floating. But, it’s never been like this before, this intense and vivd. In a way that rids you of all thought and scares you beyond your deepest fears all at once. You’re still finding your footing in this new territory, a plain that speaks to the existence of your feelings but has no road nor destination. It’s a simple plain you seek to find some end to, picking up clues along the way that predetermine what the future holds. At the beginning, the animosity scared you pale and grey. Now, the end is what grasps your fear in a fierce chokehold. To pry yourself from the jaws of unhinged anxiety, you allow yourself to relax, to seep into the present and take it for what it's worth because the end is unknown and you’re not there yet. Not by any measure of time, you hope.

“Kick butt out there, rockstar.” His big smile deepens the soft lines of his face, a pure display of pride in his features as he gives you a pat on the back and gives way for you to shine.

It’s small, insignificant in the grand scale of things, but your smile deepens too and you nearly float to the dancefloor, adrenaline rushing through your body as the DJ prepares the upcoming music.

As you settle in line, you feel a light pressure lay upon the crown of your head, eyes darting to find Charlotte in the line next to you, giving you a wink before she faces forwards, thumbs slotted through the loops of her flare jeans. Her straw cowboy hat no longer, you reach up to find said object upon your head and with a chuckle behind your hand, your thumbs hang on your belt loops and let the music guide you.

It’s only when you’ve done your first turn that you realise that Brandon has also decided to join the line dance, huffs of amusement sounding from you as he glides and slides with a confidence dusted with his normal dash of comedy.

When Judy announces it's time for the partner dance, it’s your cue to catch your breath as you plan to evacuate the dancefloor. As mentioned earlier by Charlotte, the pretty sandy brown haired man who’d bought her a drink earlier in the night circles his arms around her waist as she gives him a smitten grin. You beam at the endearing sight, about to make your way towards your booth but are stopped in your tracks as a calloused hand clasps around your wrist.

Brandon’s expression is more sheepish than you’ve ever seen, his eyes distracted as they wander away from you. You raise an eyebrow.

“Who says the night has to end here, sugar?” His voice trembles partially, its edge lost in the coyness lining his smile as he finally looks at you with a dazzle of hope in his eyes.

A momentary pause delays your response, the moment used to turn the cogs in your head and sneak a glance back at your booth, where Connor was last you saw him, eyes trained on you as he simply watches the interaction. Under the weight of his gaze, a creeping sense of embarrassment climbs up your back, scolding the skin. You’re about to give your reply when the music starts up and Brandon speaks again.

“Put this desperado out of his misery and allow me this one dance?”

It’s so cheesy, maybe even idiotic - the words he proposes to you but he’s trying and that’s what appeals to you most, warms your heart and sways your response as you send him a nod that has Brandon cheesing ear to ear, his hand leading the way as you two fall in line.

You haven’t had much experience line dancing with a partner, the closest experience to this being a night you barely remember, happily back sliding with a fifty year old local in your college town bar who wanted to feel young again. Regardless of the fact, there’s no time to mull it over as the music already starts and your fingers are interlocking, matching up with the rest of the duos as you dance, cowboy boots stomping as you make a scene.

In all the commotion of heavy stops and ongoing thumps of Rihanna’s ‘S&M’, Brandon manages to catch your attention, mirroring your movements to a tee.

“You and Connor don’t do this much, do you?” he queries.

“You kidding me? Connie has two left feet, I’d be left for dead if it wasn’t for Charlotte.” You yell over the blaring upbeat country music, arms extended as Brandon glides you further away from his figure.

“Good thing I’m here tonight.” jesters Brandon, and you laugh along because you’re tipsy and having a lot more fun than you imagined.

Despite your familiarity with the dance routine you two execute to a tee, you’re caught off guard when Brandon brings you inwards, bracing you against his hard chest before his arm circles around the circumference of your lower back, holding you steady as he dips your body slightly. Your foot is kicked out, your (Charlotte’s) straw hat’s fallen to the scuffed dancefloor and you’ve just had the wind knocked straight out of you, eyes feverishly searching for answers as the bar falls to a hush.

You’re looking in each other’s eyes now, chest heaving and high off the adrenaline pumping through your veins from all that dancing. All time ceases to exist and it’s just two of you, sharing laboured breaths and looking for any cues for how this will end. It appears as if you’re in your own head at this point, combing through a thousand possibilities all at once to respond however you see fit. Thankfully for you, Brandon breaks the silence.

“One night and one night only.”

The sentence sends shivers down your spine and you’re pretty sure Brandon feels you quiver in his arms as he gives a brief chuckle, hauling you up onto your two feet and bringing you back to reality. You don’t really find their footing after that.

The rest of your time at Punch & Judy’s passes by in a flash, more pints being consumed over your group’s loud chatter as the night stretches on. Charlotte and her blue eyed companion indulge in another dance before he’s whisking her back to the bar and paying for everyone’s next set of drinks - bless his heart. He introduces himself as Jack, a new face in town and as he and the boys exchange pleasantries, the wild eyed non-verbal dialogue you engage in pieces together Charlotte’s sentiment and if it isn’t enough, when Jack makes his departure, she gives him a kiss on the cheek and bides him a coy farewell, a promise to meet in the next coming days on her tongue. One thing is certain, when Jack makes his exit from the bar, the door shutting behind him, you’re yelling and shaking each other’s shoulders in glee, stupidly happy and sharing that with one another.

Your table has their last drinks and before you know it, you’re being squeezed into the back of Owen’s pickup truck, sandwiched between Charlotte and Connor whilst Owen and Brandon sit up front. Over the murmured sounds of slow alternative music, you get bits and pieces of their conversation, the two excitedly talking about their shared love for Legos and the most they’ve splurged on one set. You shake your head with a laugh, going to share your merriment with Charlotte, only to find her soundly asleep, a light snore bypassing her punch pink lips.

“How you holdin’ up, champ?” Connor’s low voice draws you in, a slight head turn in his direction. “Don’t think I’ve seen you dance like that since we were ten and begging our parents to have a sleepover.”

The image is so vivid in your brain, two wide eyed kids that held hands as they begged and pleaded to have a sleepover, only for their polite request to be refused. Taking matters into your own hands, you dragged your parents’ big hands into the living room, where in front of them and an oblivious Connor, turned on MTV and danced to some popular song of the time. Lucky for you, it worked. Unluckily, Connor would hold that over your head forever onwards.

You’re cringing into your hand, face mangled in discomfort as you wish away the reality of you doing that away. “One of us had to convince them. Plus, it worked, didn’t it?”

“I can’t argue with that,” Connor laughs behind a fist before his hand falls to his side, a moment of quiet between you two. “You and Brandon seem to be hitting it off.”

A single eyebrow raises to express your confusion, perplexed frown prominent not because of his statement which is completely true, but because there’s an edge to his voice - something unfamiliar and cold in the way he says his words - a tone you’ve yet to hear, even after all these years. Uncertain how to proceed, you choose to be cautious about the matter, selecting your words carefully.

“He’s nice,” you state, because Brandon is but something in you twists uncomfortably, feels the recognizable pangs of embarrassment as you’re subjected to uttering this out loud. Or rather, in front of Connor. A betrayal of some sorts. “You were right about him fitting right in with us.”

There’s a strange shift in the air in the backseat of the car, the once peaceful quiet now becoming increasingly heavy and awkward as your words hang in the air like knives. Connor absorbs your words, stare averted as he watches his fingers fiddle with the lock of the door on the windowsill. You run your palms against the material of your denim shorts because you don’t know what to do with them otherwise.

It’s only when you’ve scratched the back of your neck, eyes stiffly roaming the interior of the car that Connor replies. “Yeah..I guess I just didn’t know how well.”

You’re about to ask him what he means by that, going to press him but Owen’s suddenly shut off the truck, his blinding interior lights turning on and him killing the ignition, alerting you of your arrival. Connor climbs out before your vision reverts back to normal, so you put the matter on pause and softly wake up Charlotte who sheepishly wipes away dried drool at the corner of her lips and climbs out the pick-up with you. You’re about to shut the door behind you, though someone beats you to it.

“I got it.” Brandon’s husky voice sounds from behind you, the slam of the door following.

You send an appreciative smile his way, perhaps a bit of timidity mixed in there too, turning to include Charlotte in any possible conversation to come, only to find her halfway up the porch stairs of Connor’s house.

How is it always the two of you left alone?

“Let’s head in, it’s chilly out here.” suggests Brandon, you falling in line with his request as the beginnings of goosebump dot your arms, the roughness of your skin hitting an all time high as Brandon’s large hand falls to the small of your back, guiding you up the stairs into the cosy and quaint house.

Hums of conversation lead from the back porch of Connor’s house, the presence of your friends known as you wordlessly navigate your way through the halls of Connor’s house, hallways and framed pictures you’ve committed to memory. When you’ve made your way to the kitchen, you find Owen nursing a cool bottled water, hair tousled and cheeks dusted in pink.

“There you two are,” announces Owen, fingers threading through the waves of his brown hair. “Everyone’s out back - apparently, Quinn’s out back too.”

You waste no time beelining for the backyard, the sudden weight of your reality dawning on you the second you stepped through Connor’s doorway, a cold shower of water easing you out of the mirage you’ve impulsively floated in. Once you’re outside, the cool air sinking into your skin, you spying the usual suspects - Quinn, Charlotte and Connor gathered together around a fire Quinn boasts about making. His glee is short lived.

“That boy scouts training finally coming in handy, huh?” Charlotte banters, a suppressed smirk sneaking amongst her features as she takes a seat in one of the camping chairs surrounding the fire.

“You laugh now but when you need someone to tie an impossible knot and survive off the land, don’t come running to me.” responds Quinn, taking a swig of his beer as Charlotte holds her hands up in surrender, laughing regardless.

You’re about to turn on your heels to head back inside, retrieving a beverage of your own, but a familiar call of your name is stopping you in your tracks.

“I’ve got your cider here,” alerts Connor, expression indifferent as he approaches you to hand off a can of your favourite berry cider and a bottle of water. “Blankets are on the chairs too.”

It’s embarrassing how much you want to melt into this man’s arms right now. Nonetheless, for reasons you know all too well, you express your gratitude in a toothy grin that he mirrors with a closed mouth, pulling you down into the camping chair beside his.

Soon enough, Brandon and Owen are sitting round the fire too and your night ends like this, light-hearted discussions under the stars as the heat from the open flame soothes your heavy eyelids closed. Whilst you’re mildly awake, you don’t miss the glances you and Bradon trade over the sandstone fire, loaded questions in his eyes. Had this been any other occasion, any other person not linked to Connor, any other reality where your current feelings didn’t exist for Connor, then there would be no questions asked, blossoms of wine doting both your necks come tomorrow morning. Alias, these were not the conditions and simply lounged in your camping chair, hoping Brandon didn’t look your way every time Connor’s hand would play with the bows in your hair.

-

Arm hanging out of his shiny porcelain white pick-up truck, Brandon squints as the rays from the blistering sun reflect into his eyes. Having said their goodbyes earlier, Connor and Brandon dab each other up with good-natured smiles before Brandon throws his focus over to you, standing with a bit more awkwardness than you’d like.

“Take care, Lady in bows,” Brandon says, a well-mannered nod sent your way with a closed mouth smile. “Don’t give Dewey a hard time. He’ll come round.”

For a split second, you’re eyeing him as if his face contains all the answers, but when he gives you that knowing look, the same one Charlotte and your mother give you any time Connor’s name is mentioned - you know. Know all too well and blush as a result, head snapping behind you to see if Connor’s within earshot. Thankfully, he’s in the middle of chatting with his brother, hands in his pocket as Quinn points off into the distance. You circle back to Brandon, the apples of his cheeks clear as day as he snickers like he’s been told a secret.

It’s as if this best kept secret brings you infinitely closer, your walls falling as you begin to bare the depth of your sentiment surrounding Connor. There’s no more beating around the bush, so you lower your head as you kick at the rocks at your feet. “You think so?”

You hate how small your voice comes out, meek and questioning everything known to man. It’s unfamiliar and not to mention, uncomfortable in every aspect of the word. Alias, Brandon sees you - catches the vulnerability you’ve shared with him and embraces you with a kindness that ushers a relieved sigh from you as he responds back.

“I’d bet my NASA Space Shuttle lego set on it.” Brandon banters, smirk soft and small.

So, he’s serious. Very serious, it seems because you know how treasured the item is to him. You exhale a breath you hadn’t known you were holding.

“Thanks, Brandon,” you breath, coyness coating your cheeks as your hands fall behind your back, your fingers tangling. “Don’t go fighting no alligators.”

“We can only hope,” Brandon gives his side-door a smack, rounding up everyone’s attention. “I’m hitting the road, fellas. Enjoy the fair for me, yeah?”

A chorus of agreements go off from behind you before Brandon gives one more salute, speeding off into the canary yellow sun. The small crowd outside Connor’s house disperses and regroups again later on that day, refreshed and ready to attend the local fair held every summer and the highlight of the year.

The fair lives up to its expectations, grand and joyful with a variety of rides ranging from teacups to a catapult-like ride that swings back and forth and then upside down. You’re distracted by all the colours, the sights and sounds that you’re so oblivious to what goes on right before you, until your vision is shrouded in black and your face is submerged in fluff.

Retracting, you blink your eyes to adjust to the change in lighting, lips parting as you stare at the massive latte-coloured teddy bear that Connor presents to you, the rest of your friends nearby taking their turns at the darts board way ahead of them.

He must see you struggle to find the words, his grin infectious as he jests, “I think I’ve finally out-conned the concessionaires.”

You must look like an idiot, or a deer in the headlights as Charlotte jokes, disbelief strikingly apparent on your face as you reach for the souvenirs, the fluffy animal so cosy in your arms and melting your heart into a big puddle of goo. “Thank you, Con.”

“Don’t mention it.” a smile plays tenderly on his lips, the sheer kindness he captures in his sage eyes enough to make your pulse race and head spin.

After the thoughtful gesture, your high spirits cannot be tamed as you indulge in every little thing your heart desires - laughing a little harder, smiling a little wider and stuffing your cheeks full of hearty food that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. Charlotte basks in your glee, speaking of a glow you radiate as she snaps photos of your stuffed cheeks, a knowing smirk on her lips as she hands you your teddy bear once your food is finished. You don’t reply, exchanging words through your glances as you make your way towards the second bit of rides the boys want to try.

“Wait, isn’t that…?”

As Quinn’s voice trails off into the distance, you find yourself turning in the exact direction where he directs your view, eyes landing on a pair of figures - one being Connor and the other being, Amelia, Connor’s ex-girlfriend from high school and most notably, his last girlfriend. Her waves of blond hair glisten in the sunshine, something like a Renaissance painting. Her smile bright and wide as she greets Connor with an enthusiastic hug, a hug you feel lasts longer than necessary.

They then go on to immerse themselves in conversation, and for the life of you, you can’t look away - pry your jealous eyes away nor dry swallow this bitter pill because she’s still so into him. Hands familiar and all over him, leaning in when she gets the chance and beaming like she’s won the lottery. In all fairness, her life’s been such a tale - excelling academically, incredibly driven in all sports and other extracurricular activities that garnered her attention. And such a kind spirit too, always there to help no questions asked that it made you physically sick that you could foster any ill feelings towards her, because she’s such a light and maybe Connor would see that too. As he did when they were together.

You’re too busy losing yourself in a sea of self pity that you don’t notice Charlotte's attempts to snag your attention nor other things at first, your illegitimate fears getting the best of you but as your posture stoops, your eyes floating everywhere around the busy fair that it pauses on Connor’s figure. Once immersed in conversation, he appears distracted, indifferent somehow as his attention wanders, wanders over to you as his line of sight floats over to you from time to time as the conversation stretches on. At first, you think it’s your mind playing tricks on you, feeding into delusions that’ll soothe your pity party, but at some point, he holds your gaze, giving Amelia a pat on the back before he’s jogging over to where your friendship group is, not even uttering a word as he slots himself between you and Owen.

“What was that about?” Quinn just has to ask.

“Oh, Amelia just wanted to catch up,” he sounds distracted, his mind elsewhere but you don’t dare to indulge, your sight directed elsewhere as you grip onto the plush teddy bear as if it were a lifeline. “She says hi, by the way.”

You don’t do much listening after that, tuning out all the colours and sounds of the fair as you ride the highs and lows of what your life has become.

-

A sense of urgency plagues you from that day forth, a hurriedness in your actions as your anxieties get the better of you, going from lounging around in day old pyjamas covered in crumbs and mystery stains to getting a head start on your master’s personal statement and running every errand you’ve been procrastinating. Your parents swear you’ve become a different person - venturing outside the house before noon to visit the bank to change your address or go get your car serviced. Perhaps seeing Connor with Amelia was the jump start you needed to stop relishing in instant gratification, distracting yourself from facing any sort of music that pertained to the future and all its question marks. You still hang out with the others, more so Charlotte as you spend a few afternoons at the lake with one another, feet dangling into the water as she updates you on her adventures with Jack.

It’s the first time someone’s pursued her with such sincerity and charm that she’s hesitant about his authenticity. And yet from the sounds of it, Jack doesn’t mind one bit and shows his patience as they get to know each other, the smitten man taking your best friend on dates that further solidify their connection. You couldn’t be any happier for your best friend, this kind of treatment a long time coming, all of which you express just to see her blush and dive into the cold lake water to avoid further talks. You chase after her, teasing her mercilessly as the thoughts still linger at the back of your mind - your own sentiment with regards to Connor and what has come from the change of heart.

Emotional anguish and so much fear you’re not sure what to do with yourself. It takes a week of mulling things over, his missing presence due to off-season hockey training for you to make up your mind, peeling into his driveway and hiding your apprehension behind a strained smile as he greets you at the door. You preoccupy every bit of silence with running chatter, because you don’t want to hear yourself think, a multitude of topics discussed over vodka pasta you make together before you’re finding your way into his bedroom, the early evening sky greeting you as he flicks on his buttermilk bedside lamp.

He brings out his guitar, the same one you gifted Connor two years ago at the height of his newly-found hobby and plucks the strings, creating a melody you compel yourself to relax into, somehow ending up sandwiched in between him and the guitar as he directs your fingers to play one of your favourite songs, just because.

Apparently, your shaky hands don’t make for good playing material.

“You’re shaking like a leaf, you cold or something?” notes Connor, his looming presence over your body sending you into overdrive, your skin feverish and mind imploding from overwork.

“This is different.” you annouce, because it is. Unlike times before, it didn’t mean as much to be alone in his bedroom with him, getting glimpses into the life he’s lived and who he is as a person through all his possessions. You could handle the casual intimacy - the soft spoken whispers, the unprovoked kindness, the skin to skin contact that didn’t send your heart into a series of flutters. Now, all you can do is bat an eyelash, many at that, and this you must make known. For the selfish reasons you can think of.

“What d’ya mean?” he mumbles, clearly distracted and known the wiser to his breath fanning over your neck, goosebumps rising against your skin as your body grows rigid against his.

So acutely aware of your proximity, of the bursting feelings that thud at the confinement of your chest, your thoughts scatter like glass. “This, Connor. Being like this…with you.”

That strikes a chord with Connor, his motions ceasing altogether as his hands drop from the guitar and you’re forced to face the music. Sink your teeth into this undeniable truth that’s followed you all these years and you’ve been too blind to see. Confront the holy truth that maybe there was more divine work intertwined in your story with Connor, that maybe the universe wrote you two as one heart as opposed to two. That, as the summer days ticked by, the sun seeping into your skin, your love grew for Connor like molasse - slow and thick and palpable that once you were aware of its existence, that’s all that consumed you. Coated in his syrupy love, an endless desire.

You’re facing your best friend in spite of the hellish screams in your mind to play this off as some random mood swing, a joke even, because laughter follows you two everywhere, right? But, you know. Know better than anybody else that Connor knows you, like the back of his hand. Sees right through any charade you may jester him with, so any attempts to divert the conversation are as pointless as anything. Your confession starts and ends here.

A flicker of concern mixes in the dark of his eyes, hands clasped together with a crease in between his eyebrows. “I don’t follow.”

A full body sigh draws out of you, shoulders sagging and back curving, your hands casting aside the acoustic guitar with caution. You’re back to staring at each other, in the silence of the night, caged in between four walls that burn your eyes white as you once again grapple with your innumerable feelings and the finality of it all - this longing.

“Don’t you think,” you croak, question in your eyes as you look up at Connor, stifling any rise in emotion within you. “-this summer has been different?”

His sage eyes cast away, pink lips settling into a pout as he racks his brain for whatever answer you may be looking for. “No? Maybe? I don’t know.”

He adds on, looking back at you as he leans closer without fault. “Is this because it’s your last summer before you graduate?”

Connor’s got a point. When you’re trying to kid yourself into not having romantic feelings for your childhood best friend, your mind wanders to places where it has more control. Plans for after college, what modules you’ll be taking, what societies you want to join, what last things you’d like to cross off your list before you’re forced into full fledged adulthood. It’s a thought that lingers ever so presently at the back of your mind, like background music stuck on loop, but ultimately, Connor has missed his mark and you tell him so.

“Partially, but,” you wet your lips, struggling to find the words again as the burn against your cheeks proves to be insufferable. “This is what’s been on my mind more than anything else.”

Your point is accentuated by your single finger gesturing between the two of you, a poor attempt at best to foster some sort of confession of your romantic feelings. Because it's so scary, lending these thoughts your voice because they become much more real, spoken aloud for his ears to hear and his heart to see. For his heart to feel and what then? What awaits you once your confession reaches his ears? The unknown is scary, chilling to the bone and you wish to shroud yourself from it as long as there’s daylight.

There’s a beat before you hear Connor’s voice again. “What about us?”

Hearing him vocalise those three words makes the moment so real, so vividly intense that it sends chills down your spine and slows your laboured breath, the thump of your heart all you can hear aside from the ticking clock against Connor’s bedside table. It ticks and ticks, signifying the curtain call to your summer long charade.

“Connor, I..” It’s as if the magnitude of your feelings have manifested into some beast, with razor-like fangs and sharp claws that slash at the confinements of your chest, the words of love dying on the tip of your tongue as the moments hangs over your head like a gauntlet. You’ve never been so scared before, driven nearly to tears as your desperate hands grip at the material of your hoodie to ground yourself in some sort of way whilst you try to push yourself. To see this through until the very end and leave the destination unknown.

“We’ve been friends our entire lives. I don’t know anything beyond being with you and I never wanted to, and I feel like that means so much more than it did years ago,” his eyes are on you, undivided attention served on a silver platter that you turn away from, for its sincerity and shine. “Maybe, I did know deep down inside what I know now all those years ago. Like when I cried and begged for you not to leave the Pas. Or when you held my hand any chance you got when we were kids, or anytime you smiled at me really that let me know I always liked you. Maybe, even love you - I don’t know. But, what I do know is that I just couldn’t leave for Calgary without letting you know. Even if that means…”

You don’t have the heart to utter your next words, a dagger to the heart at even the possibility of losing your best friend and partner in crime. Perhaps, it isn’t worth saying - this whole grand love confession because this is a risk you’re not ready to face. However, despite your thundering heart against your bruised chest and however many times you’re second guessing yourself here, the weight lifted from your words is undeniable. An unspoken truth that had been set free, that needed to be set free - whatever the fallout may be.

A snicker snaps you out of your deep seated fears, your scattered daze settling on the view before you, one you had least expected. Connor, eyes cast away from yours as he huffs into his hands, a laugh you’re undecided where it derives from.

“…Are you laughing at me right now?” You feel awful for even asking such a ridiculous question. At the same time, you’ve just been as vulnerable as you’ve ever been in your entire life - some hesitancy is to be expected.

At your question, Connor’s huffs of delight cease and stares at you at alarm, realising his mistake. “God, no. Fuck, I’m so sorry, I just-”

“You used to rub dirt on me, and now you're proclaiming your love for me,” an airy laugh puffs out of his moving chest, a mixture of disbelief and amusement painted amongst his chiselled features. “It’s a bit of an adjustment.”

He seems…happy? Relieved? You’re not really sure, but what you at least find peace in is that there’s no sunken look about him, no expression worn that conveys disappointment and hurt because that’s all you’d have to see to know where his heart lies.

“Good or bad?” you ask.

His eyes bounce back to yours, those same olive eyes you’ve spent years looking into, glimmer with a sparkle that you’ve yet to see and robs you of rational thinking as your heartbeat picks up the pace.

“Good,” he whispers, like it’s a secret for just the two of you - one that is small and fragile, but so special and cherished that it makes your heart squeeze. “Because, there’s no one else I’d rather be with. Not by a long shot.”

You swear you could cry, burst like a dam and drown in your tears that overflow with such joy and relief because this is it for you. So right and settled, being where you’ve always meant to be - so loved and treasured by the one person who knows you better than yourself, someone who’s seen you at your most awkward and at your worst, and loves you because he has. Because he’s seen it all and wants to spend the remainder of his life doing so, a conscious choice he makes everyday because he loves you and you love him.

You’re unsure how you’ve ended up like this, limbs curled up in your lover’s lap as he cups your cheeks, rough thumb caressing the skin as his love shines through his gaze that blows his iris’ out of view. He looks so beautiful like this, unabashed and vulnerable, secure in love and what destiny holds for you. He looks at you as if you colour his skies and spin his world round and just like that, you lose yourself in him. Thread your fingers through his strands of umber brown and kiss him like you mean it. Kiss him long and hard, and with everything you have because it’s long overdue, so needed that you melt into him, lips overlapping as you taste destiny on his tongue.

The story of you and him, a tale as old as time.

[temis-de-leon]

Replaced MC AU/AU - V. 2

Characters: demon brothers, fem!MC and flirty! fem! NES (MC x NES)

Intro – gn!MC , fem!MC x male!NES (Part 1) , male!MC x male!NES (Part 1 , Part 2)

Masterlist , about the NESs

CW: rejection, abandonment, women flirt hard from my experience but this is mild i think, suggestive but also mild, lession 16 mentioned, MC is not stupid and deserves to vent, no comfort in this one folks, my favouritism is showing

A/N: Jesus Christ guys. On another note, for those who couldn't be tagged: please check if you can fix the problem! I don't mind sending you a private message, but it's easier this way :)

.

It was a surprise for Lucifer, somehow, seeing someone like MC so content with someone like NES. When one smiled, the other frowned; sweet and spicy; beauty and brawn. The brothers had naively thought having MC share her room was bound to cause problems, but how wrong they were.

Four months into the second year of the program, the two girls had already merged their closets, creating a unique style with their combined clothing. They’d also decided to use one of the beds for storage, sleeping together in the other. The first time that happened and all of them had to face Belphie’s resentment, Lucifer had feared for NES’s safety and even considered confining his brother in the attic again. Thankfully, and surprisingly, the younger demon had opted for the pettier option: ignoring MC altogether and treating NES like a rotten piece of furniture.

He was probably hoping for MC to feel guilty enough to completely ignore NES and come crawling back to him, but, as different as they were, both humans quickly became two peas in a pod, always walking hand in hand, shoulders brushing while exchanging secrets that no one else was allowed to hear.

Overall, the whole situation had become a recurrent topic in the brothers’ groupchat and, while Lucifer wanted to remain as nonchalant as ever, it was impossible to hide his opinions on the matter.

He wasn’t happy.

None of them were.

.

.

Mammon wanted her gone.

He wanted her gone now.

Who did she think she was, stealing MC’s attention from him and acting like she didn’t know what she was doing? Sitting next to her at every meal, massaging her scalp during movie nights and waking her up at odd hours because she liked ‘those late night talks’ in the kitchen?

What type of talks were ‘those’? MC could have them with Mammon; she didn’t need NES! She had him, after all. Her first man!

“Well, I’m her first woman then” answered NES the time they argued over who was gonna sit next to MC in class.

Who did she think she was?!

“Are you okay, Mammon? You seem upset”

And there she came, the bane of his existence, already dressed up in her RAD uniform and dragging MC by the hand. Both of them looked tired and Mammon realized with primal horror that no noise had come from the kitchen that night.

“Why are you so tired?! MC!”

Her only answer was a yawn, so NES gave herself the right to talk on her behalf; but not before handing MC some food for breakfast, of course. 

Although half of it was burnt, Mammon still hoped MC would like it.

“Oh, we were up for a long while, barely slept at all. Right, MC?”

She nodded, happy under the pampering, but her eyelids were half closed and she didn’t seem to notice she was eating her favorites. 

Mammon stared at them in shock and distraught before sparing a glance at Lucifer, who was too occupied checking his DDD and drinking his coffee to pay attention. Had he really looked at him, though, he would’ve seen a twitch in his brother’s forehead and a stillness in his eyes; he wasn’t reading at all.

“Then maybe MC and I could take a nap after class”

They all looked at Belphie, who had started to show an unusual interest in going to RAD those last few days. He was smiling like a kid in a candy store, already gawking at the idea of spending quality time with MC, or, at least, what he considered quality time.

His expression dropped, however, when MC shared a complicit glance with NES and smiled apologetically.

“I’m sorry Belphie, but I already made plans with NES”

“We’re going to Majolish” added said girl with a sly glint in her eyes “MC saw some clothes and wanted an outside opinion” 

Belphie looked downright offended, but not as much as Mammon felt. What did she mean they were going to Majolish because MC wanted an outside opinion? He was there! He was literally a model!! Hell, even Asmo would've been a better choice!

“I’ll go with you!” he announced, not asking for permission “I’m a professional, you know? You should be thankful I’m even considering wasting my time on some dumb humans!”

The youngest demon rolled his eyes, but NES’s expression briefly flickered and that was almost enough for Mammon. Beside him, at the head of the table, Lucifer sighed. 

“Do what you want, but if you end up third wheeling, that’s on you”

MC laughed, neither confirming nor denying anything. NES watched over the brim of her mug, challenging them with unsaid words.

Mammon wanted her gone.

.

.

Famine woke Beel up, like always, so he went to the kitchen, like always. It’d been MC’s turn to cook that night and he was pretty sure she’d stored some leftovers in the fridge for him. It was nice, being remembered even when she was too occupied with NES to pay them attention anymore. It brought some comfort, as well as a small smile to his face.

But much to his chagrin, the kitchen light was already turned on when he arrived, and his mood soured when he saw what was happening. Beel’s heart dropped and plummeted through his guts, deepening the black hole in his stomach. MC was leaning against the counter, creating some concoction in a bowl, while NES hugged her from behind. Both of them waved at him when he made his presence known, getting no greetings in return.

“Hi, Beel! I left food in the fridge for you!”

He wanted to be happy and thank her for the trouble, but he wasn’t able to think properly, not when NES’s face was snuggled into the fluff of MC’s hoodie, hands sneaking around her waist and disappearing under the material.

What was she doing? Should he stop her? But MC looked so cozy… not uncomfortable at all. His throat closed at the same time his stomach roared loud enough to fill the silence in the kitchen.

“Beel, are you okay?” 

“You seem upset”

MC looked worried, but NES’s words crammed his mind. She’d said the same thing to Mammon that morning wearing the same self-satisfied expression.

Ignoring his needs and his emptiness, Beel turned around and left them alone.

.

.

MC was seething. Her thoughts were a mere blurr and a sting in her throat left her unable to speak her mind the way she wanted to do it.

Was he serious?

Were they serious? Those self-righteous hypocrites! 

“We think it’s for the best, MC” spoke Lucifer like she was a child too slow to get his point.

“She’s playing with you, honey! She’ll hurt you!”

The gall. The audacity. The… ugh!

She stared at Asmo baring her teeth, never a threat to them, but a gesture so uncharacteristic of her that it was impossible not to treat the situation seriously. The common room was silent, yet MC was sure every single one of them was able to hear the violent thumping of her heart.

“We’re doing this for you”

“FOR ME?” she screeched at Belphie.

A scream would’ve made her feel better, but she guessed the high pitch got her point across good enough, her anger reaching every corner of the room. The brothers stayed silent, eyes wide open and muscles tense, waiting for her next movement. Not even when she got up from her seat and paced they spoke.

“YOU DO THIS FOR YOU!” 

“MC, lower your voice”

“NO”

Lucifer glared at her, the red in his eyes glowing dangerously. MC wanted to keep going just to spite him, begrudgingly giving up in the end. She was close to crying out of frustration and her throat hurted, so screaming would only hurt her more.

“You were the ones that insisted so much on having another human exchange student” she reminded them, stopping in front of the fireplace and basking in the warmth for some comfort, pointing to the eldest brother with clenched jaws “You said it would improve the program!”

“She’s holding you back, distracting you and using you for her own entertainment!” intervened Satan before Lucifer could speak.

“Oh, because you were so altruistic last year! Treating me with all the respect I deserved! Totally not threatening me all the time or even killing me for selfish reasons! You’d never do that to me, would you?!”

They lowered their gaze, suddenly very embarrassed, and MC felt a part of her healing. Then she saw Levi’s glassy eyes and Beel’s defeated expression. Neither Mammon nor Belphie weren’t even looking at her anymore. And she could live without Belphie’s half-hearted apologies, but not without the brothers under a pact.

“I believe this is enough, MC. Calm down and we’ll talk again in the morning”

Lucifer got up, his voice completely neutral, but his eyes pleading and desperate. He started to close the distance, but she got away, walking towards the door without breaking eye contact.

“You were so on board with this, Lucifer!”

The tears swelled in her eyes. Hot tears breaking her a little more, fuelling her anger. 

“Do you really think I’m not aware of what she’s doing? We share a room, you morons! I've lived with her more than I’ve ever lived with you!” 

There was silence again, four of them looking at her with visible pain and the other three leaning against each other.

Fuck it then.

“It’s all good and awesome when you’re the ones in favor, but when I’m the one having fun, suddenly NES has to go away?! Do you hear yourselves?! I’m so done with you thinking I owe you anything at all, let alone my fucking soul! Half of our pacts weren't even born out of friendship, so hear me out and hear me well! Get your heads out of your asses and for once in your life: LEAVE ME ALONE!”

MC walked away, closing the door at full force and leaving them behind in more ways than one.

How could they ever get over this?

.

.

.

Taglist: : @stfuchaase @k1-an @meggs-wonderland @kkeromenoo @va109 @marvelous-maniac @cruzerforce4256 @blarsh @marathedemonoverlord @junni-berry @arylleb @b-a-m-2006 @jonielunar @piercedddriver @cosmidaydreaming

[devilat-thedoor]

What Is and What Should Never Be Ch. 1

A/N: The parts in this fic are going to be on the shorter side compared to my other one, but that allows me to get them out quicker. This first chapter is really just laying the foundation for the story. I hope you enjoy, babes! and as always, feedback is appreciated🤍 P.S. This is all fictional, straight from my imagination. Please don't take it too seriously💖

Word Count: 9k

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, Smut(none yet, but for future reference), Mentions of alcoholism/addiction, Mentions of death. Reader Discretion Advised.

So if you wake up with the sunrise and all your dreams are still as new // And happiness is what you need so bad, well girl, the answer lies with you

“Bell, are we really doing this?” Your grin was beaming as you twisted the key in the ignition, hearing the engine rumble. You rolled the windows down, letting the late March wind breeze through the car.

Your best friend, Bellamy, turned to you from her spot in the passenger seat, “I mean, unless you want to carry all of our stuff back into that shithole…” She jutted her thumb out the window, towards the shabby apartment building that, up until 15 minutes ago, you had called home. “Then we are absolutely doing this!” You laughed, pulling away from the curb as she hung half of her body out the car to shout a goodbye to your hometown. “We’re fucking out of here! See you later, Phil!” Bellamy had her middle fingers in the air as the wind swept through her jet black hair.

Reaching over, you grabbed her shirt to yank her back in the window, “Bellamy, the groundhog can’t hear you!” Your hand went back to the steering wheel as she settled back into her seat and kicked her feet up on the dashboard. “Don’t get too comfortable, you’re not gonna fall asleep on me 20 minutes into the drive.”

She rolled her eyes and gave you a lazy smile, “Fall asleep on you, sweet pea? Never.” She grabbed the aux cord, plugging it into her phone. “Why did we decide to drive again? We could’ve left everything to the moving company and just booked a flight… This is gonna take for-ev-er.” She flicked her sunglasses down over her eyes with a whine.

“Bell, how often are we gonna get to road trip across the country? Think of all the places we’ll get to see!” You tried to sound as positive as you could but, truth be told, you weren’t very excited about the drive either. The speakers came to life when she finally decided on a playlist, opening with House of the Rising Sun by The Animals. “Once we’re on I-80, the drive will go so fast, babe.”

She dropped her feet back to the floor, turning to face you again, “Whatever you say, Y/N.” Digging into the grocery bag full of snacks below her, she grabbed a pack of gummy bears and ripped them open, “God, I just can’t wait to be out of here and in the sun… And our new apartment?” Bellamy curled her legs up into her seat, turning to face you, “Are you okay with me taking the Master bedroom? I really want the en suite bathroom.”

You glanced over to see her pouting her lip at you, “You can have whatever room you want.” Looking back to the road, you turned the music down a bit, “If you told me I had to sleep in a tent on the balcony, I would do it.” It sounded like a joke, but you were partially serious.

“You know you’d be sharing my bed if there was no other place for you, Y/N.” She gave you a pointed look and slouched back into her seat. “We would just need a kind of ‘sock on the door’ signal, yanno?”

Craning your neck to look behind you, you slowly merged onto the interstate, “When has a signal ever worked before, Bellamy?” It was early enough in the morning that traffic was mostly clear, allowing you to set the cruise control to an even 70mph. “Remember Seth? The guy I met at sophomore year IUPatty’s? I left the shamrock beads on the doorknob and that didn’t stop you from barging into the dorm!”

She held her hands up, “In my defense, there were beads scattered through the hallway. How was I supposed to know you put them there intentionally?” Her shoulders raised in a shrug as she remembered back, “And I saved you! Your fake moans weren’t even believable, you weren’t getting off!”

You broke out into a cackle, “Oh my god, Bell! Fuck, you’re actually right.” She stuck her tongue out at you, “He was so hot, but had no rhythm at all… it was just anticlimactic. No pun intended.” You were both in a fit of laughter when your friend popped up in her seat.

“Babe, turn it up!” Bellamy yelled over the wind whipping through the windows as Rocky Mountain Way by Joe Walsh began playing. “It’s our song!”

You reached for the volume dial with a grin, cranking it up as you both started singing along. “…Out to pasture, think it’s safe to say, time to open fiiiire…” You held your closed fist to your mouth, using it as a makeshift microphone, “And we don’t need the ladies crying cause the story’s sad…” 

Holding your invisible microphone out to your friend, she sang the next few lines into it “‘Cause the rocky mountain way is better than the way we had…” The two of you went back and forth, singing loudly through your giggling. You listened as Bellamy vocalized the entire solo at the end of the song, finishing with a deep inhale to catch her breath.

The next song came on as you both settled down and you just drove in a comfortable silence for a while. You stopped for food and gas while passing through Toledo and continued on, only stopping again once you were right outside of Chicago. “I’m sick of driving, Bellamy. It’s your turn.” You whined at her as you pulled the car into a gas station.

“I’ve got maybe five or six hours in me.” She pushed her door open, grabbing her wallet from her bag to head into the gas station, “I do not want to be in the car anymore, so let’s plan on stopping in Des Moines… If traffic stays clear, we should make it by at least eleven. Midnight at the latest.” You followed her into the convenience store, listening to her lay out the plans. “When we get back in the car, look for a motel or something cheap we can stay in for tonight and then we’ll get back on the road early tomorrow.”

You both headed to the restroom to relieve yourselves before grabbing a few energy drinks and bottles of water and paying for your gas. “Sounds good, babe.” After filling the tank, you climbed into the passenger seat while your friend got behind the wheel and began browsing for a place to rest.

“Hey, Bell…” You’d been back on the road for another two hours, going back between music and podcasts, when you turned to her.

She glanced at you with a soft smile, “Yes, sweet pea?”

You were toying with your fingers in your lap, “I haven’t actually said it yet, but thank you.” She gave you a questioning look, prompting you to elaborate, “For bringing me along with you… to San Francisco. I will never be able to make this up to you.” You wanted to make sure she knew how genuinely grateful you were. All you’ve dreamed of, since you were 15, was getting out of your hometown and escaping the living hell that was your life. You thought that the day you turned 18, you’d pack up and leave to head for the west coast, get as far away as you could to avoid the chance of ending up like your mother. But after graduation and without money, your only option to get out of Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania was going to college. Bellamy made you apply to IUP with her and when you both got in, it seemed like things wouldn’t be so bad anymore. Even though the university was only about 40 minutes from your hometown, it was far enough away that you didn’t have to deal with the stress of living with your parents anymore. Your dad was always amazing. He taught you everything you knew, from how to cook to how to change your own brakes and oil. All he ever wanted was to make sure you were capable of taking care of yourself when the time came for you to be on your own and that time came a lot sooner than either of you could have anticipated.

It was your junior year in college and you were so close to getting your Bachelor’s in Anthropology. Your classes kept you busy enough that you didn’t have time for partying or getting into trouble. All of your focus went into your school work in the hopes that once you finished, you would find a great job in doing something you loved and make enough money to go wherever you wanted. But the perfect bubble you’d put yourself in popped that November when you went home for Thanksgiving break.

Your mother’s alcohol addiction wasn’t anything new to you. You would come home from middle school to find her passed out on the sofa, empty bottle littering the coffee table. Some nights she would come into your room to crawl in bed with you, crying that she wanted to be better and that she was going to try to stop drinking. You would let her hold you and cry until your dad would come in and gently walk her back to their bedroom. The smell of her vodka soaked breath is something that would surely stick with you for the rest of your life. Dad would try his hardest to hide how bad her problem really was, but you knew. It started to get worse when you got into high school. She would get drunk and belligerent, screaming and breaking things. You’d gotten accustomed to staying at Bellamy’s. Her father and yours were best friends and that’s how you and Bell ended up as close as you were. On the nights your mother was particularly bad, Bell’s dad, Mr. Cole, would get a call from your dad and within minutes, you would be climbing into the backseat of his car with your best friend to stay with her family for a couple of nights. You begged your dad to leave her, to just let her drink herself rotten and move you and him some place far away where she couldn’t affect you anymore, but he refused. Always telling you that she needed the both of you to get her through it, that she didn’t have the strength to stop drinking on her own. Part of you knew that he didn’t even believe that himself, but you looked up to him more than anybody and trusted that he knew what was best. Still, you couldn’t stand to live in the same house as her, so when you got accepted to the same college as Bellamy, it was like life was finally giving you a break.

Then that Thanksgiving day came crashing down and everything else went with it. You and Bellamy made the short drive home the day before and you dropped her off at her house before heading to yours. Your dad was at the door, waiting to greet you as you pulled in and he rushed out to wrap you in a bear hug and help you with your belongings. You were dreading the kind of state you would find your mom in, but to your surprise, she seemed sober and completely normal. She pulled you into an embrace and you could still smell the faint hint of liquor on her, but her behavior had you fooled into thinking it was just your imagination. You were having a good time, helping her prep the apple pie so it would be ready to bake for the holiday while listening to music. She asked you how your classes were going and she seemed genuinely interested as you explained your course load to her. It was a welcome change to how conversations normally went with her.

 As the day dwindled to early evening, you started to see a change in her. She was getting sloppy and she stumbled through the house and you noticed her eyes starting to droop, but it wasn’t until she started throwing a fit about not having enough wine for the guests that you’d be having over for Thanksgiving that you realized she must have been sneaking drinks throughout the night. You watched as your dad tried to reason with her and calm her down, but she just kept yelling, throwing things around the kitchen until he finally gave in and offered to drive her to the store so they could pick up a few more bottles. You pleaded with him to stay, trying to convince him that he was only enabling her addiction by catering to her temper tantrums, but he brushed you off, wrapping you in hi arms and placing a firm kiss to the top of your head before grabbing his jacket and ushering your mother out the door. You didn’t know it then, but that would be the last time you would ever hug your father. After they started the drive into town, in a drunken fit of anger, your mom would lash out and begin hitting your dad, causing him to run off of the road and into the woods. He was pronounced DOA by the first responders and she would walk away from it without a scratch. Nobody knew that it was her fault, but after his funeral, when she was already half a bottle deep, she confessed it to you. You left her alone that night and never looked back and she ended up moving south to live with family. You couldn’t forgive her and if you never saw her another day in your life, it would still be too soon.

The depression you fell into forced you to drop out of college. You moved back to your hometown and got a job at the local diner, Punxsy Phil’s, to pay rent. Bellamy moved back with you and spent her last year and half commuting to school before graduating with her Bachelor’s in Computer Science. Now, two years later at 26, Bell was offered a job at a tech company. They were based out of Silicon Valley but they wanted her to head a team in their San Francisco office. When they offered to pay for her housing for a year until she got her footing, she sweet talked them into a two bedroom apartment and asked you to go with her. Of course you jumped at the opportunity and now here you were, driving across the country to start your new life and it was all thanks to your best and oldest friend.

“Y/N, I wouldn’t have even thought about taking this job if there wasn’t a chance that you could come with me.” She reached over and grabbed your hand, squeezing it softly, “I know how hard the past few years have been, but we’re starting a new chapter and it’s us, babe. It’s always been you and me.” A grin formed on her face as she put her hand back on the steering wheel, “We’re gonna fucking rule San Fransisco like Christina and Courtney in The Sweetest Thing.” She paused before adding, “But promise me you won’t fall in love with a guy you just met overnight!”

You leaned over the center console, hugging her tightly and planting a giant peck on her cheek, “I fucking love you, Bell.” You were both laughing as she pushed you away.

“I love you more, sweet pea.”

💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿

It was early Sunday morning when you finally pulled into the parking lot or your new apartment building in the Mission Bay neighborhood. It stood maybe six stories high and each apartment had its own balcony. You and Bellamy were on the third floor, number 308, and she held the keys in her fist as you both stepped out of the car. The excitement couldn’t be contained as you made it up the elevator and she unlocked the door, pushing through it to see your new home in person for the first time. Stepping into the apartment, you both rushed around, exploring the living space. It was quaint and small, but it was perfect for the two of you. You each had your own bathroom and the bedrooms were a decent size. The sliding door that led out to the balcony caught your attention at the same time as her and you were running to slide it open and see the view of the city. “Bell, is this even real?” You gazed out in awe, seeing all the buildings and businesses that surrounded. You couldn’t wait to see what it looked like at nighttime with the city lights. Just as your friend went to answer you, there was a knock on the apartment door that was left wide open and you turned to see the movers standing there. You both looked at one another with large smiles, “Let’s turn this place into home, B.”

“I think it’ll look better against that wall.” Bellamy placed her hand on the man’s arm, pointing to the opposite side of the living room. “Could you just move it one more time?” You bit your lips together, trying to stifle a laugh as she batted her lashes at him. The movers made it to your new home right after you had and your best friend was quick to put them to work. You stood back, allowing her to give directions with flirty giggles, directing the men where to put everything.

Finding it best to stay out of her way, you decided to occupy yourself with something else, “Hey, hun!” You called across the room to Bellamy, “I’m gonna start unpacking the kitchen.” She gave you a thumbs up without breaking concentration on the movers. Walking into the tiny kitchen, you pulled open the first box you saw to reveal all of your plates and bowls, wrapped in old newspapers. You decided on a cabinet and began stacking the dishes, one by one, discarding the papers into the empty box as you went. Next was the cups and mugs then tupperware and pots and pans. After a little over an hour, you had the kitchen completely unpacked with everything in its rightful place.

As you stood in the middle of the space breaking down all of the boxes, your friend came through the doorway, “Everything is officially moved in.” You watched as she padded to the refrigerator to retrieve a bottle of water. She shook a bottle in the air, silently asking if you wanted one, and tossed it after you gave a nod, “And, courtesy of those three very sweet men, the living room is already assembled.” Bellamy gave a proud smile as she cracked open her bottle. “We just have to fill the bookshelf and hang some art on the walls or something.” She shrugged, taking a large gulp of water.

You took a few chugs of your own and checked the time on your phone, pausing the music that was playing. “It’s only 1 o’clock, we’re making pretty good time. You wanna go find lunch somewhere?” Bellamy’s phone began ringing as she nodded her head and you watched her walk back into the living to retrieve it. After a minute you left the kitchen as well, going into your bedroom to find a change of clothes in the mountain of boxes. The apartment already came with beds and bedroom furniture and you dug through one box, pulling out the new sheets and comforter that you’d purchased and tossed them on the mattress.

“Soooo…” Bellamy startled you as she popped her head in the door frame, “Don’t hate me…” She gave an apologetic look.

You dropped the clothes you were holding to the bed and let out a sigh, “We’re not getting lunch, are we?” 

She came into the room, cupping your face with a pout, “I’m sorry, Y/N! Please don’t be mad.” You pulled out of her hold, rolling your eyes, “That was my new boss that just called and he wants me to go down to headquarters to meet everyone.”

You weren’t mad, you knew how important this job was to her, “It’s fine, Bell. Take my keys, they’re on the kitchen counter.” You pointed out the door.

A high pitched squeal left her mouth and she wrapped you in an incredibly tight hug, “I’ll make this up to you, I swear!” She went to her own bedroom to change clothes and you decided you would still go out and get food, but you would also take the time to look at who may be hiring in the area. You pulled on a pair of cutoff denim shorts and a black baby tee that read ‘farm fresh peaches’ with two of the bright fruits printed over the chest. Once satisfied with your outfit, you dug through your laptop case to pull out a copy of your resumé and a separate sheet of paper with a solid list of references, and tucked them into your bag just as Bellamy came back to your doorway, “I love you and I’ll be back soon!”

“Leave me your keys, Bell!” You called as she disappeared back out into the apartment, “I’m gonna go explore the neighborhood a little bit and you’ll have my keys, so leave yours for me.” She nodded, digging her key ring from her purse and dropping them on the counter.

Ten minutes later, you were locking up and riding the elevator to the ground floor. You stepped out on the street, looking left and right to decide which direction you wanted to go in. Opting for the left, you started on your journey, unsure of where you might end up, with a goal of finding lunch in mind. You’d lost count of how many blocks you walked when you landed on Market Street. The entire length of it was lined with stores and bars and restaurants, it was unlike anything you’d see back home. Sure, Pittsburgh was a great city to visit, but it didn’t compare to this in your eyes. You scoped out a few different food spots as you walked along the sidewalk, Some with potential to eat at, others with potential for work, but you continued on, lost in the bustle of everything going on around you until something caught your eye. A bright, neon open sign shined bright in a storefront window and illuminated the ‘Now Hiring’ sign to its right. It was a piece of paper that looked like someone just scribbled the note on with thick, black sharpie, and taped it to the window as a joke. Your gaze traveled up to the hanging sign above the door, Highway Tunes Records, before dropping back to the windows and seeing the art and posters adorning the walls inside. Your eyes fell upon a psychedelic poster, made up of colorful and abstract swirls that came together to unmistakably make Jimi Hendrix. An audible gasp escaped and you found yourself pulling the door open and shuffling inside the store and straight over to the poster. You were entranced as you stared up at it, unable to tear your eyes away until a voice stole your attention.

“You a Hendrix fan?” Turning to find whoever the voice came from, you were met with a gleaming set of teeth, stretched into a mesmerizing grin, with the tiniest gap between the front two.

You returned his smile, murmuring a response once you realized you’d been staring at him, “Uh… Yeah. He was my dad’s favorite musician.” You glanced back up at the framed poster as he replied.

He was standing incredibly close, you could feel the heat radiating from his body, “Well, he is great… So!” His exclamation made you jump and he laughed, “Sorry, it’s been a slow day and you’re probably our fifth customer since opening at noon.” You looked down at your phone to check the time, 2:49pm, and gave him a sympathetic smile. You knew how boring a slow day at work could be. “Anyways… What brings you into HIghway Tunes? Looking for a specific album?”

 “Actually, that is what brought me in here.” You pointed up to the Jimi poster, “It felt like it was calling me in.” You shook your head, aware of how weird that sounded, but before you could try to reword it, the man was already talking.

“Oh. Well, unfortunately, I can’t sell you that specific piece.” He let out a huff, turning on his heel and walking in the opposite direction. Your brow furrowed as you watched him go and he turned around, gesturing for you to follow him, “That one is part of Jake’s personal collection.” He started after you fell into step behind him, “He’d kill me if I sold it and then he’d hunt you down and kill you too… But these…” He stopped in front of a giant bin, filled with rolled up posters, and flipped open the binder above it, “These are all on the market.”

You watched as he thumbed the pages, looking over the inventory of music posters. You couldn’t help but stare at him. Full lips, bordered by a tasteful bit of facial hair. A wild mess of curls that covered his forehead and ears, only leaving the small, silver hoops piercing his lobes to stick out. He had a constant smile on his face and you almost didn’t want to open your mouth out of fear that it would go away, “I’m not… really looking to buy anything.” You watched the grin falter, but he quickly recovered it, “I’m sorry. I just don’t have the spare money right now to spend on things that aren’t necessities.” You scrunched your nose with a shrug.

He turned to face you, looking you up and down as if he was sizing you up, “You’re not from around here.” Suddenly feeling self conscious, you crossed your arms over your chest, looking away from him, “Hey, no. I didn’t mean any offense… Just that the only people who come in here are either regulars or tourists and you’re certainly not a regular.”

“How do you know I’m not a regular?” You gave him a pointed look as you pursed your lips. “Maybe you just always miss me when I come in?”

“Naah. Nobody comes in here without me or Jakey seeing them and I would not forget you.” He slapped his palm over his face whilst shaking his head, “Sorry, that… That sounded creepy. I just meant… never mind.” A bright blush started to overtake his cheeks.

He was so charming and handsome, you couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled from your mouth and if Bellamy were there, she’d accuse you of flirting. “Okay, I did just move here, but tell you what… As soon as I get a job, I promise to become a regular.” You flashed him a sweet smile before turning around and heading for the door, “Don’t forget my face.”

“Woah, wait!” He called after you and you stopped to face him again, a questioning lift to your brows, as he jogged the short distance across the store, “You need a job? We’re hiring.” He sounded desperate as he continued, “The pay is good, I swear. You’ll get great hours and everyone here is chill!”

You looked around at the shop, really taking in the eccentric environment. His smile alone was enticing you to say yes and you couldn’t fight against it, “So… is this an official interview?” You joked and saw his shoulders visibly relax.

He looked around the store as though he was searching for something, “Actually, let me find Jake. We might be able to interview you right now.” He went in the opposite direction from you, giving you no time to decline before heading for the checkout counter, but he stopped, “I’m Josh, by the way!” He yelled from where he stood

You called out to him, still planted by the front door, “I’m Y/N!” His smile seemed to grow brighter as he repeated your name back to you.

Just as he was about to push through the door behind the counter, it flung open to reveal another man behind it, “What’s with all the fucking yelling?” From where you stood, it looked like he was gritting his teeth at Josh. His hair was long, landing past his shoulders, and he wore a pair of dark sunglasses. He peered over Josh’s shoulder to get a look at you and you saw his lips moving before the curly headed boy turned and waved you towards them.

You swallowed your nerves and began shuffling towards them. Your eyes drifted to the ceiling to see it plastered with vinyls, all painted over with intricate and colorful artwork. As you stepped up to the counter, your eyes fell on the men, “This place is a lot like Trax.” They both gave you strange looks, prompting you to clarify, “The record store from Pretty In Pink? With Molly Ringwald?” The confusion didn’t leave their faces as you stared at them, “Seriously? That’s like, my favorite movie. It’s an iconic John Hughes masterpiece! The scene when Duckie sings Otis Redding?” You continued to gush despite how clueless they clearly were.

Josh’s face lit up into a grin as he listened to you, but the other guy remained stoic, almost like he was bored, “Well it’s a good thing you don’t need to know movies to work in a music store.” You couldn’t help the look of shock on your face at his pompous tone.

But you were never one to let a man make you feel small, “No, you’re right, but… if I’m not mistaken, there’s an entire shelf over there,” You pointed to your left with a cocky smile, “that is loaded with movie soundtracks… And if you ask me, music and film go hand and hand.” Looking back at him, you gave an innocent shrug, “But you’re the boss, so who am I to argue?” He was taken aback by your quip but you could’ve sworn you saw a hint of a smirk on his lips as he eyed you. You directed your attention back to Josh, “Maybe I’m not a good fit… but I hope you find someone who will be.” You were about to turn and leave, but he stopped you.

“No, don’t leave!” He slapped the other man’s arm, “Jake, don’t be a jackass. We need the help and I think she’ll be great.” He was practically pleading.

“Ahh, you’re Jake…” You finally connected the dots, “The same Jake that would hunt me down and kill me if I made off with that Hendrix poster over there?” You nodded towards the frame that hung on the wall. “So maybe you don’t know classic movies, but you clearly have good taste in music.” It was an attempt at flattery and it seemed to work because he finally cracked a genuine smile.

His eyes flashed to the poster and came back to you, “What’s your favorite Jimi album? Song?” He was trying to quiz you as if he didn’t believe you were really a fan of the musician. “Answer carefully, peach.” 

Your gaze dropped to your shirt before you narrowed your eyes at him, “Axis: Bold As Love by the Experience and Red House… Specifically the Woodstock live recording.” You raised your eyebrow, waiting for a snide remark, “And I have a name…” You almost forgot that Josh was standing beside him until he cleared his throat.

He clapped his hands together with a laugh, “See, Jakey. You can’t tell me she wouldn’t fit in perfectly.”

Jake leaned forward, resting his elbows on the counter, “Why is Red House your favorite song?” The question made you smile.

“It’s all very bluesy. The guitar riff and solo, his lyrics… The first time my dad played that song, I was completely enthralled.” You were speaking genuinely and judging by the way he was nodding, he knew it.

He turned to Josh, silently communicating to him with a look. You watched them, trying to decipher what was being discussed, but as you studied their expressions, you noticed how similar they looked. Josh’s eyes locked with yours and he answered your question before you could ask it, “Yeah, we’re twins, Y/N.” He chuckled softly, “It’s always the first thing people ask…” You mumbled an apology, casting your eyes to the floor, “Nothing to be sorry for. But good news! You’re hired!”

“What?” You looked at him in shock, “I- But- Don’t you have to…ask more questions?” How did they decide that with just a series of facial expressions to one another? “Do you need references or… I don’t know, it’s never been this easy to get a job, there’s gotta be a catch…”

Jake disappeared through the door behind him for a moment and reemerged holding a t-shirt, “The catch is, you gotta be here bright and early tomorrow to start training.” He tossed the tee at you and slid a piece of paper over the counter, “Take this home, fill it out, and bring it back with you. I’ll see you here at 9am, peach.” He turned around, going back through the door and closing it behind him.

“I promise, he’s not as unpleasant as he makes himself seem.” Josh came around the corner to stand beside you and pulled the paper from the counter, “We’ll start your wages at $20.25 per hour. I just need you to fill out this application with all your basic information. Yanno, name, number, address, social. Then we’ll be able to get you on payroll asap.” He handed you the page with his bright grin that you were growing to really enjoy.

“I’ll take your word for it.” You stuffed the t-shirt and application into your tote bag, “So he’s training me tomorrow?” The distaste was evident in the way you forced a frown, “Are you gonna be around to soften that blow?” You were begging the universe for a yes, but wound up disappointed.

He placed a hand on your shoulder, “Mondays are my days off…” He gave an apologetic smile, “Jake’s actually really cool, Y/N. And I’ll make sure he goes easy on you.” As if he could sense the anxiety radiating from you, he offered a compromise, “Alright, I have some shit to get done tomorrow, but I’ll stop in around lunch to see how everything’s going. Okay?” He flashed that damn smile and you were sold.

“Thank you, Josh.” Your phone began to ring in your back pocket and you pulled it out, muttering a sorry to him as you answered it, “Hey, Bell.” You listened to her speak for a few moments, “No, I haven’t… I’m fucking starving, though. You wanna come pick me up?...Uhhh, I’m not sure, it’s a record store on Market Street…Yeah, I’ll just drop a pin… Perfect. Love you too, babe.” You hung up, sending her your location, and stuffed the phone back into your pocket. “Sorry about that.”

“Was that your boyfriend?” The question caught you off guard, but the apprehension on his face threw you off even more.

You shook your head, partially to answer his question, but also to clear your mind enough to form a response, “Umm. No. No, that was Bell- Bellamy.” You paused before elaborating further, “She’s my best friend. We moved down here together…” 

He let out a breath that you didn’t realize he was holding in, “Oh! Cool.” The silence stretched between you and you weren’t sure if he felt as awkward as you did.

Your phone dinged, saving you from the tension, and you pulled it back out to see a text from your friend, “She’s here, so I’m gonna go…” You pointed towards the door before slowly turning away from him. Just as you reached the door, you looked back to see him watching you and tried to conceal the blush creeping onto your cheeks, “Any quick food recommendations? We haven’t eaten yet today… Oh! Preferably cheap?” 

“If you’re looking for something close, Super Duper Burgers is great. Definitely check their seasonal menu.” He ran his fingers over his mustache, drawing your attention to his lips, “If you're willing to go a little further up the Market, Taqueria Cancun has some solid, authentic Mexican tacos. There’s a ton of sushi joints.”

“How about pizza? I’m kind of craving a greasy slice.” You knew Bellamy was waiting for you, but for some reason, you didn’t want to leave.

“Ahh, a girl after my own heart.” Josh pulled his bottom lip between his teeth for a few seconds, “Slice House. Hands down, best pizza. You gotta try the Drunken Italian.” He pinched his fingers together, giving an exaggerated chef’s kiss, “The vodka sauce is fucking revolutionary.” You held eye contact for longer than you cared to admit, but then the corner of his lip curled into a smirk, “You better get going, your friend is waiting.”

“Yeah, I guess I should… See you tomorrow?” He nodded his head, forcing his curls to sway as he waved goodbye. “Bye, Josh.” You pushed through the door and found Bellamy waiting in your car at the curb.

She pulled her purse from the passenger seat as you slid in and handed your phone off with the directions to the pizza place, “Why am I not surprised that you already managed to find a music store?” She shifted the car into drive, hitting the blinker to pull out.

“Bell, I literally just walked in there and they hired me. I start tomorrow.” You almost didn’t believe the words that poured out of your mouth. “It was the weirdest thing… I walked by and there was this Jimi Hendrix poster, and you remember how much my dad loved Jimi?” She nodded, waiting for you to continue, “When I saw it, it just drew me in. I don’t know how to explain it. But I was standing there and this guy came up to me, Josh, and-.”

“Mhmm…” Bellamy cut you off with a knowing smirk, “Josh, huh?”

You scoffed at her, “No. Don’t start, it’s not even like that.” You didn’t defend any further, just proceeded with your story, “Anyways… He offered me a job and he and his brother interviewed me right on the spot. I start tomorrow morning and get this, Twenty dollars an hour, Bell.”

She gawked at you, eyes wide, “Twenty? That’s over the minimum wage here. Did you suck his dick to get it?” She laughed at her own joke as you lightly hit her arm.

“You’re an asshole, yanno?” You sat back in your seat, laughing with her. “He is pretty cute, I can’t lie… He just seems like a really fun person and he’s always smiling. Like the brightest smile you’d ever see... But his brother, Jake, was sort of insufferable.” You were chewing on your lip as she glanced at you.

“Insufferable how?” She turned to you fully as the car stopped at a red light.

You thought back to the short exchange you’d had with him, “He was arrogant as hell, for starters.” Her eyes went back to the road as she let off the brake and you continued, “He didn’t even bother to learn my name, just kept calling me ‘peach.’ You wouldn’t even know they were twins if they didn’t look identical.” You stared out the window, looking at the buildings to find Slice House.

Bellamy spotted the restaurant at the same time you did, swinging the car into the first available spot she could find, “Twins? Oh, you’re fucking joking, Y/N. We haven’t even lived here a full day!” She cut the engine as she glared at you, “How old are they?”

“I don’t know? Our age, maybe a little older… Why does it matter?” You were toying with your fingers, something you did when you were nervous. “Don’t give me that damn look, Bellamy! It’s just a job. You’re not gonna find some hidden context in this.” Pushing the car door open, you stepped out to end the conversation.

She was popping out of her side right after you, “Okay, babe. Whatever you say…” You knew she had more to say but she dropped the topic for the time being as you both walked into the restaurant.

💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿

You stood right outside of the door, looking at your reflection in the glass to straighten your shirt out. It was 8:48am and you were trying to work up the courage to go in, mentally preparing yourself to be trained by Jake. You were too focused on your reflection to see that he was coming across the store. The door pushed open and you jumped back with a yelp, “Did you plan on coming in for your shift or were you gonna spend another 15 minutes fixing your shirt?” He was holding the door, waiting for you to go inside.

You moved past him, rolling your eyes, “You know, you just make the atmosphere so inviting. How could I not want to be here?” You bit your tongue, aware of how much attitude you’d just given the man who is technically your boss. “Sorry, I-.” You turned back to face him but he was already breezing by you.

“You’re kind of a fucking brat…” You followed behind him, ready to argue his claim, but he was already moving on as though he’d said nothing at all, “Here. We got a long morning ahead of us and you’re gonna need to keep up with me.” He grabbed a cup from beside the register, handing it to you, and pointed to the door behind him, “There’s cream and sugar in the office if you need it, don’t take forever.” Taking the hot coffee without a word, you stepped around him to go into the office. When you came back, he was leaning against the counter, chin propped on his fist, “You fill that paper out, peach?”

Digging into your tote, you pulled the paper out and slapped it down in front of him, “That’s not my name, it’s-.”

“Y/N. I know” His lips curled into a conceited smirk and, had he not been walking away,  you might have slapped it right off of his face, “Peach feels more fitting.” He waved his hand, beckoning you to follow him.

You fell into step as he walked towards the front of the store, “You saw fruit on my shirt and ran with it. Very original idea, can’t believe I didn’t think of it.” The look he had when he whipped around to face you made you clamp your mouth shut, but you couldn’t help the tingle you felt through your body at his response.

Jake was glaring at you with a hint of something you couldn’t quite place, “You’ve got a mouth on you.” He was pointing a finger at you, “and I can think of a few different ways to shut it.” Your jaw practically hit the floor as you stared at him and he flashed a devilish smile, knowing that he’d left you speechless. He turned away again, leading you to a display near the front door, “Pay attention.” You nodded silently as he started mapping things out for you, “This rack is all new release vinyls. We change most of them out weekly, depending on what kind of album drops there are.” He started walking towards the middle of the store, walking between the rows of shelves, “Everything is sorted by genre first and then alphabetical order.” You listened intently as he sped through the rundown, “We keep bargain bins down here.” He pulled open a cabinet door below one of the tables, revealing crates full of vinyls with torn and worn sleeves, “These are all used and donated, we sell them for $3 a piece or we do 10 for $10. It’s hit or miss, some work, some don’t.” Closing the cabinet, he moved to a different part of the store. You trailed quietly alongside him, soaking up all of the information he was spewing. After about 20 minutes, he’d looped you both back to the front, “Let’s see if you’ve kept up…” He crossed his arms over his chest, waiting to see if you’d maintained any of the knowledge.

“Okay…” You took a deep breath, “Here we have new releases. They get updated weekly, unless there aren’t any good drops.” You continued throughout the space, pouring everything he’d given you back out to him, until you made it to the checkout counter, “Limited Edition vinyls are kept behind the counter, the new inventory delivery comes every Friday morning at 8am sharp, and I think that’s everything…?”

Jake was nodding his head, surprisingly impressed, “Not bad, peach.” He glanced at the clock on the wall, “We got a half hour before we open at 11.” He plucked your application from the counter where you’d left it, “I’m gonna get through some paperwork. You can-” He was cut off by the sound of footsteps coming from the back of the store. “Liv? I thought we wouldn’t see you until summer?” He greeted the short, blonde girl.

She had a stereotypical valley girl accent, “Finished my semester early, figured you guys needed me more than UCLA.” She gave him a smile that looked like she wanted to devour him. Her eyes flashed to you dismissively before flying back to Jake, “You here by yourself? I can clock in and help out.”

You shifted on your feet, feeling out of place, and Jake took notice, “Not alone today, I have peach, here, to help out.” He nodded towards you.

“Peach?” She finally took the time to really look you over, “Were your parents hippies or something?”

You opened your mouth and closed it again, not sure how to respond, “Uhh. No, that’s not… My name is Y/N.” You reach out for a handshake, out of respect, but she just stared at your extended hand.

“Cool. I’m Olivia.” And just like that, she directed her attention back to Jake, “Can you fit me on the schedule this week?” She pushed her bottom lip out, looking like a toddler begging for candy, “I know you guys miss me.”

He shook his head with a faint smile, “I’ll talk to Josh.” He left it at that, turning to you, “Take that box and start putting the shit where it goes.” He pointed at the box on the floor.

“Aye aye, captain.” You saluted him with a smile and picked the box up.

A chuckle escaped his mouth and until that moment, you thought he was incapable of feeling joy, “I’ll be in the office if you need anything.” He started to walk around the counter, “I’ll let you know about the schedule, Liv.” He slipped through the door and closed it behind him, leaving you with the girl.

To avoid conversation, you gripped the box in your arms and lifted it to counter to begin sorting through it. Pulling out a stack of vinyls, you carried them through the store, fitting them into their rightful places. You hadn’t realized Olivia was following you until her low, grating voice creeped into your ears, “So…How did you get a job here?” She was watching you carefully, almost like she was waiting for you to make a mistake, “Jake is suuuper picky about who he hires.”

You looked at the last vinyl in the stack you were carrying, “Uhm, I just came in here yesterday to look at something and Josh offered me the job.” Moving through the tables, you went to the Country section and tucked the album away, “Jake gave me a shirt and told me to be here at 9am, so here I am.”

She was standing so close to you that you almost ran into her as you turned around to retrieve more from the box, “Here you are…” She sounded annoyed, but you ignored it as you pushed past her.

You went about your business for the next several minutes, finishing the task that Jake had given you, as she lingered through the store, watching you work while she pretended to browse the music. You pulled the empty box from the counter, ready to ask your boss what he wanted you to do next, when the bell on the front door chimed. You turned around to see a man come in and go straight to the New Release rack. He perused for a few moments before moving to the tables to search through the records. You expected Jake to emerge from the office, but he never did. After a few minutes of the guy looking entirely lost in his search, you took a deep breath and made your way over to him. Your eyes flicked to Olivia to see her staring at you, a cocky grin on her face. “Hi, can I help you find something, hun?” You put on your best customer service smile as he turned to face you.

“Actually yeah…” He looked like he was maybe in his early twenties and he seemed nervous, “I’m looking for something for my dad. He just bought himself a record player, but he doesn’t have any records for it.” He gave a shrug, “I don’t really know where to start here.”

This wasn’t as scary as you thought it would be, “Okay, do you know what kind of music he likes? Any specific artist or band?” You waited patiently for him to answer.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, tapping the screen a few times, and held it up to show you, “This is a band right? I think he likes them.” It was a picture of a man, probably his father, wearing a Led Zeppelin tour t-shirt.

Your eyes went back to his face, giving him another sweet grin, “Yeah. Zeppelin’s a great band. Your dad has great taste.” You moved around him to walk him over to the appropriate shelves, “We should have a ton of their stuff… Do you want anything specific?” You had a feeling that he wouldn’t know what to choose.

“I- Well, what would you recommend?” He stood by while you flicked through the selection, “Which one is the best?”

“That’s a tricky question.” You pulled a few vinyls from the display, holding them up one by one, “So, Zep one is a safe choice. It’s their first studio album, really opened up the door for them, plus it’s got a couple really great blues covers.” You slid that one to the back of your stack to reveal the next, “ Two is also good. You get Whole Lotta Love, Ramble On, Heartbreaker.” He was nodding as you pulled your final option forward, “This one is my personal favorite.” You held up the album, showing him the cover with the peeling paint and the old man carrying a bundle of sticks, “I kind of skipped over three, but Zoso…This is their fourth studio album, and arguably the best.” You handed it to the boy to examine, “Going to California is probably my favorite song of all time. But it’s also got Stairway to Heaven and When the Levee Breaks. Black Dog. If your dad is a Led Zeppelin fan, then he’ll definitely appreciate this.”

“You know what, I’ll take this one and the first one you showed me.” You handed him the first album before turning to put the remaining one back on the shelf. He was smiling wide as he took it from you, “So are you like a music expert or something?”

You giggled at his question, “I wouldn’t say expert… Just really appreciative of what’s good.” You were staring at his light blue eyes, almost entranced in them when Jake barked your name from the counter. You jumped, whipping around to look at him with wide eyes. He held his hand up, waving for you to go to him, “Gimme one minute.” You called out to him and went to turn back to the man in front of you, but Jake’s voice rang out louder.

“No. Right now, Y/N.” He was leaning his hands on the countertop, glaring in your direction, but his eyes weren’t on you.

You muttered an apology to the blue-eyed boy, “I’m sorry, I’ll be right back.” You shuffled across the store, embarrassed at how he’d just spoken to you in front of your first customer, but also pissed at how he treated you like you were an insolent child. You stood in front of him, whisper-yelling to avoid further embarrassment, “What the hell, Jake? What did I do?” You looked around, realizing that Olivia was gone.

“You’re here to work, not flirt.” There was an edge to his tone that you couldn’t fully decipher.

“What?” You stared at him in shock, “I wasn’t- I was making a sale! Yanno? What you hired me to do…” Was this conversation even real?

He stepped out from behind the counter, “Go wait in the office, I’ll finish your sale.” You moved to try and stop him but his voice was dangerously low, stopping you in your tracks, “Office, Y/N. I’ll carry you in there myself if I have to.” He turned on his heel, walking towards the customer without another word, and you found yourself obeying his command to wait in the office.

Pushing through the door, you looked around the small space before closing it and dropping into a chair. You were highly considering just quitting as soon as he came in, but at the same time, you didn’t want to. Everything was so confusing… Why did he accuse you of flirting when he wasn’t even there? And why did the possibility of you flirting make him so mad? You sunk further into your seat, pondering your own questions, but the one you needed an answer for most; Why did you so easily bend to his will? You were pulled from your thoughts by the door opening.

“Good to know you’re capable of obeying orders, peach…”

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🤍Taglist🤍

@jakekiszkasbuttsweat @ieatedsammy @twistedmelodies @dropdeadalyx31 @ageofbajabule @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @ignite-my-fire @becinabubblegvf @literal-dead-leaf @sanguinebats @myleftsock @laneygvf @writingcold @sinarainbows @lipstickitty @giraffehippy

[nebulous-apocrypha]

sweet pea, winterberry, violet, and sunflower (if applicable) for elias?

Sweet pea (What colour are your OC's eyes?) - dark brown. so dark that they look black, in most lighting conditions. however if you call them black he will be quite peeved

Winterberry (Use one or more photos that encapsulates your OC's clothing style.) -

(important to note: the men in the first two images are not just there because of their clothing, nor are they there because elias is an elderly man (he is in his mid-20s). they are there because elias dresses like an elderly man)

Violet (Do a voice claim for your OC) - since i'm not sure i could actually try and do a voice for him, here are a couple of somewhat-inexact voice claims. they sound... radically different from each other, just bear with me here. imagine a sort of cross between the two with a whole lot of coughing between every few sentences crick from octopath traveler 2 (skip to around the 14-minute mark to get his lines. specific one that gives me elias vibes was at 17:06) this luke correia video (i am not entirely sure why)

Sunflower (What name(s) were you originally thinking of calling your OC?) - i think i was going to name him emery, originally, after an older oc who ended up being merged with another older oc and renamed (since that meant the name was free i figured hey why not use it). and then i might've toyed with naming him something starting with an m, but i could be misremembering that

[statticscribbles]

Monsterous Chpt. 3

Summary: Givewaway, Multi-Chapter, Supernatural AU, Sweet Pea/Reader/Reggie Mantle; Reggie/Reader getting together, both know the other is hiding a secret.

Chapter 3/6

@moodtomyboards-main

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Sweet Pea  knows that everything is supposed to stay the way it is; he shouldn’t hunger for human blood; he shouldn’t egg on Reggie until he transforms because Sweet Pea found out how much better werewolf blood tastes.

He doesn’t steal bites from Reggie’s arm or shoulder. He’s a good vampire and follows Dr. Curdle’s pre-packaged blood bags for the rest of his life. He tries to play as much of it off as teenage rebellion as possible; but when they merge the schools; stating budget cuts and magic issues with the southside. Well no one is surprised when the southside pack go on a rampage; or when a couple of rent a cops show up to the hospital bleeding from puncture marks that some strange bullet made; an easy lie everyone knows to repeat.

Reggie knows he shouldn’t be playing with Sweet Pea like this. He knows being around a vampire isn’t safe; that he has to disguise it as a want to be around other werewolves; around the Serpents; not the only vampire from the southside who’s already in the center of a pack of werewolves. Why would he want another one; least of all one from the Northside who doesn’t know anything to do with being a werewolf.

Reggies stomach sinks; he can smell it on you; he knows Sweet Pea can too. Human. He knows that the Lodge’s hadn’t been hunting so there shouldn’t be any new prey in the area.

“Hi! Sorry my family just moved in; we live next door to you... the uh...”

“Mantles; I’m Reggie; this is Sweet Pea; he’s just my friend...” You arch your eyebrows; neither of them look far enough apart to be just friends, but maybe they’re the stereotypical small town bestie’s who grew close despite being on different sides of the track. you chuckle to yourself about that and try your best not to ruin your first impression with your new neighbors especially if they were so attractive.

“You’ll be at Riverdale High right?” Reggie asks and you nod back; they seemed friendly and don’t seem wrapped up in each other the way the other couples you’d heard about were.

“Mhm; starting tomorrow; middle of the week, middle of the year; such a fun time having to try to invade all the clique’s and premade friend groups...”

“Oh we don’t have many of those...” He nods towards you and you grin relieved he wants to know your name.

“Y/N.”

“Pleasure to meet you Y/N. I'm Sweet Pea, I know he said it already but just in case.” He winks and you laugh. You’re surprised that both of them seem to be flirting with you. You weren’t considered anything but average before but maybe it's just the novelty of being the new girl. You internally grimace hoping the rest of the school isn't like that.

"One of the things you need to keep in mind is that while there aren't clique's; there's uh, other friend groups…." Sweet Pea seems nervous and you're confused until you realize he and a whole group of other students are wearing the same jacket.

"A gang? You're in a gang?? Are you in one too?" You gesture to Reggie's letterman jacket and he laughs a little shaking his head.

"They're not a real gang, well they don't have a rival and they're not like running the town or anything.." you can't help but notice the nervous glances and laughter at Reggie's comment.

"Hey Y/N you been to Pop's yet?" he asks as if nothing has happened and maybe it hasn't, maybe you're just reading too far into everything.

You shake your head and Reggie beams, you swear you can see fangs.

"Would you let me take you? It's like everyone's local hangout, well one of the only hang outs.." 

"Oh my god Reggie stop with the puppy dog eyes, we can go, I was going to say yes anyways.." you playfully grumble and he laughs far too much at your protest. You guess it's another inside joke as some of the people in Sweet Pea's gang chuckle as well.

Pop's is somehow better than anything Reggie had attempted to describe and you can't wait to go back, the food was heavenly and the atmosphere was just as wonderful, while it was clear there were groups that came regularly none of them felt like they were closed off or excluding anyone.

"So the town seems pretty close, no dark secrets keeping lovers apart or anything, or have I not been here long enough?" You tease Reggie who snorts and shakes his head.

"Basically the whole town is the secret." You're surprised that he does actually get dirty looks this time, proper glares and you'd swear a few snarls as well.

“Oh well I have secrets of my own.” You manage to say it playfully; not choking it out like you used to in the town you left. It seemed wherever you moved to always got it out of you eventually. Something was following you; pushing you away from everyone who you tried to make friends with; you were waiting for the nightmares and eventual rejection from Riverdale; but for now you were just going to try to enjoy the possible date with Reggie.

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[theviewfrommegabuildingh10]

The boy was in the hallway drinking a glass of tea

From the other end of the hallway a rhythm was generating

Another boy was sliding up the hallway

He merged perfectly with the hallway,

He merged perfectly, the mirror in the hallway

The boy looked at Johnny, Johnny wanted to run,

But the movie kept moving as planned

The boy took Johnny, he pushed him against the locker,

He drove it in, he drove it home, he drove it deep in Johnny

The boy disappeared, Johnny fell on his knees,

Started crashing his head against the locker,

Started crashing his head against the locker,

Started laughing hysterically

When suddenly Johnny gets the feeling he's being surrounded by

Horses, horses, horses, horses

Coming in in all directions

White shining, silver studs with their nose in flames,

He saw horses, horses, horses, horses, horses, horses, horses, horses.

Do you know how to pony like bony maroney

Do you know how to twist, well it goes like this, it goes like this

Baby mash potato, do the alligator, do the alligator

And you twist the twister like your baby sister

I want your baby sister, give me your baby sister, dig your baby sister

Rise up on her knees, do the sweet pea, do the sweet pee pee,

Roll down on her back, got to lose control, got to lose control,

Got to lose control and then you take control,

Then you're rolled down on your back and you like it like that,

Like it like that, like it like that, like it like that,

Then you do the watusi, yeah do the watusi

Life is filled with holes, Johnny's laying there, in his sperm coffin

Angel looks down at him and says, "Oh, pretty boy,

Can't you show me nothing but surrender?"

Johnny gets up, takes off his leather jacket,

Taped to his chest there's the answer,

You got pen knives and jack knives and

Switchblades preferred, switchblades preferred

Then he cries, then he screams, saying

Life is full of pain, I'm cruisin' through my brain

And I fill my nose with snow and go Rimbaud,

Go Rimbaud, go Rimbaud,

And go Johnny go, and do the watusi, oh do the watusi

There's a little place, a place called space

It's a pretty little place, it's across the tracks,

Across the tracks and the name of the place is you like it like that,

You like it like that, you like it like that, you like it like that,

And the name of the band is the

Twistelettes, Twistelettes, Twistelettes, Twistelettes,

Twistelettes, Twistelettes, Twistelettes, Twistelettes

Baby calm down, better calm down,

On the night, in the eye of the forest

There's a mare black and shining with yellow hair,

I put my fingers through her silken hair and found a stair,

I didn't waste time, I just walked right up and saw that

Up there, there is a sea

Up there, there is a sea

Up there, there is a sea

The sea's the possibility

There is no land but the land (Up there is just a sea of possibilities)

There is no sea but the sea (Up there is a wall of possibilities)

There is no keeper of the key (Up there there are several walls of possibilities)

Except for one who seizes possibilities, one who seizes possibilities. (Up there)

I seize the first possibility, is the sea around me

I was standing there with my legs spread like a sailor

I felt his hand on my knee (On the screen)

And I looked at Johnny and handed him a branch of cold flame (In the heart of man)

The waves were coming in like Arabian stallions

Gradually lapping into sea horses

He picked up the blade and he pressed it against his smooth throat(The spoon)

And let it deep in (The veins)

Dip in to the sea, to the sea of possibilities (It started hardening)

Dip in to the sea, to the sea of possibilities

I put my hand inside his cranium, oh we had such a brainiac-amour

But no more, no more, I gotta move from my mind to the area

(Go Rimbaud, go Rimbaud, go Rimbaud)

And go Johnny go and do the watusi,

Yeah do the watusi, do the watusi

Shined open, coiled snakes white and shiny twirling and encircling

Our lives are now entwined, we will fall yes we're together twining

Your nerves, your mane of the black shining horse

And my fingers all entwined in your silky hair,

I could feel it, it was the hair going through my fingers,

The hairs were like wires going through my body

I, I that's how I

That's how I

I died (At that Tower of Babel they knew what they were after)

(They knew what they were after)

(Everything on the current) Moved up

I tried to stop it, but it was too warm, too unbelievably smooth,

Like playing in the sea, in the sea of possibility, the possibility

Was a blade, a shiny blade, I hold the key to the sea of possibilities

There's no land, but the land

Looked at my hands, and there's a red stream

That went streaming through the sands like fingers,

Like arteries, like fingers

He lay, pressing it against his throat (Your eyes)

He opened his throat (Your eyes)

His vocal chords started shooting like (of a horse) mad pituitary glands

The scream he made (and my heart) was so high (my heart) pitched that nobody heard,

No one heard that cry,

No one heard (Johnny) the butterfly flapping in his throat,

Nobody heard, he was on that bed, it was like a sea of jelly,

And so he seized the first (His vocal chords shot up)

It was a black tube, he felt himself disintegrate (There is nothing happening at all)

And go inside the black tube, so when he looked out into the steep

Saw this sweet young thing (Fender one)

Humping on the parking meter, leaning on the parking meter

In the sheets

There was a man

Dancing around

To the simple

Rock & roll

Song

- Patti Smith

Land

[taevisionceo]

A GIFT 🙏 … ECHOES OF YOU ... MERGING MY DREAMS AND MY LUNCHTIME… YOU MAKE MY DREAMS

It's my lunchtime 🤪🤪😋😋😋 A GIFT 🙏 … ECHOES OF YOU 👍💫💃🏻🕺 "MERGING MY DREAMS AND MY LUNCHTIME… YOU MAKE MY DREAMS"

ALSATIAN FARFALLE… BUTTER / PESTO SAUCE - WARM SALAD Cook Farfalle pasta according to the package instructions in plenty of salted water, until dente (~12 min)… drain and set aside. In a frying pan, stir-fry garlic and onion with Irish butter… add bacon 🥓 until golden… add broad beans, peas and rovellons… set aside. Butter sauce… Irish butter, olive oil, MAILLE Dijonnaise mustard, HELLMANN’s mayonnaise, tomato sauce 🍅, apricot, sweet paprika, Tabasco Chipotle, oregano, basil. Mix well all ingredients… Farfalle, broad beans, peas, rovellons, bacon 🥓… add 🍅 tomato, cranberries, croutons… mix well butter / pesto sauce…

LASAGNE ALLA BOLOGNESE Ingredients … for Bolognese Sauce (Ragu alla Bolognese) sliced smoked bacon, sliced guanciale or pancetta, coarse ground beef, Aberdeen beef broth crushed tomato ♥️, onion, carrot, white wine, creamy milk olive oil, Irish butter, salt, black pepper Italian flat lasagna (oven ready, not req'd boiling) Ingredients … Bèchamel Sauce Irish butter, creamy milk, flour, nutmeg, salt Covering each layer with Parmigiano Reggiano cheese Bake at 190°C/374°F for ~25-30 min

ORDATE Rioja 🍷

[xprojectrpg]

Yesterday in X-Project - January 20

2015: Reality Coming Down: Professor X and Emma plan on a strategy to protect the school from the impending danger; Emma, Molly, Tandy and Tyrone defend against their robotic evil selves in the foyer; Gabriel, Miles, Sarah and Johnny defend the stairs against their zombie selves; Sue, Topaz, Hope, and Meggan defend the rear of the school against their evil doppelgangers; Emma’s team are forced to retreat; Sue and Gabriel’s team merge to help relieve some of the pressure on Emma’s team; The teams finish off their evil doppelgangers and try to make sense of what is happening; The New Mutants and Emma are all together when the Dark Phoenix finally reaches the mansion, who buries the teen under the falling debris of the mansion.

The Dark Phoenix: The previously injured regroup in the med lab prepare to set out into the destroyed mansion and help people; North forces Laurie to keep moving despite her unwillingness; the team from India returns to find the mansion in ruins and set out to help; the first group from the med lab find the Dark Phoenix, and are forced into a holding pattern; the second med lab group sets out to rescue people out of the rubble; people regroup in an attempt to find a strategy and stop Dark Phoenix; Dark Phoenix lashes out telekinetically, only to be shut down by Cecilia, Amanda, and Billy, who provide cover; Wanda and Strange grab Doug and North, using them to channel energy and try to hold reality together; the first team moves in to try and take out Dark Phoenix’s shield, but the telekinetic backlash takes several of them out; another team goes hunting for survivors, and Callisto is killed; Dark Phoenix continues her hunt, injuring Jubilee and killing Miles; Paige, trying to defend Tandy, Ty, and Molly, about to die, is visited by Brunhilde, and tries to convince her to save the kids; Clarice, Sooraya, Pixie, and Artie try to help Topaz, Johnny, and Hope back to the Blackbird, only to be attacked by a group of alters; a group tries release Jean from her powers suppressor, intent on using it on Dark Phoenix; a group of semi-invulnerables try to go against Dark Phoenix, but to no avail; Charles takes all the safeties off Cerebro to prepare for his own last stand; Emma and Haller work together on a psychic defense; the force field goes down, and Billy is killed; the psionic defense meets Dark Phoenix, who lashes out and kills Sarah V and Lorna, and Charles goes down; a group gets the power suppressor on Dark Phoenix, but it fails; the psionic defense finally fails; Jean confronts the Dark Phoenix and is overwhelmed; Wanda’s attempts to keep reality together fail, and the power overload kills her and Strange; Jean rallies against Dark Phoenix, finally destroying her; the survivors find themselves facing the end of the world and Xorn, who tells them he will piece together a new world for them to live in; they later wake up on the mansion grounds in the new universe.PHASE 2

2016: Amanda leaves a wreath of English Ivy, Scarlet Poppies, Pink Sweet Peas, and Potato Vine Flowers at the M-Day memorial. Cecilia posts to the journals expressing her disbelief that it’s already been a year since M-Day and inviting anyone who wants to join her and her dog watching movies and eating junk food on the couch.

2017: Maya decides art museums and dance are the best way to cope with Inauguration Day. With Extreme Prejudice: Daredevil and Spider-Man investigate the apartment of one of the victims and are surprised by a detective, who surprisingly turns out to be an ally; Miles discovers a ninja star at the scene.

2018: Tandy makes a journal entry about potentially graduating early, and how her work on the local food bank is coming along.

2019:

2020: Topaz wonders how it can still be January. Kyle approaches Garrison about rejoining the X-Men; after sounding out Garrison, Kyle emails Scott asking to rejoin the team.

2021:

2022:

2023:

[coolrunningsfoods]

Red Peas and Pineapple Soda: A Celebration of Caribbean Flavors

Introduction

The Caribbean's culinary landscape is a vibrant, flavorful mosaic, reflecting a rich cultural and historical tapestry. Two ingredients that vividly embody this culinary diversity are Red Peas and Pineapple Soda. Each offers a unique taste experience and is deeply ingrained in the Caribbean's food culture. This blog post aims to delve into the world of Red Peas and Pineapple Soda, exploring their origins, culinary uses, and the role they play in the Caribbean's rich gastronomic narrative.

The Richness of Red Peas in Caribbean Cuisine

Red Peas, widely known as kidney beans, hold a place of honor in the Caribbean kitchen. These legumes are not only a staple due to their nutritional value but also for their versatility in various traditional dishes.

Nutritional and Cultural Significance

Red Peas are packed with protein, fiber, and essential nutrients, making them an excellent food choice for a healthy diet.

They play a significant role in Caribbean culture, often featured in meals during festive occasions and family gatherings.

Culinary Applications

Red Peas are most famously used in the Jamaican Red Peas Soup, a rich, flavorful dish that combines peas with coconut milk, spices, and various meats.

They are also a key ingredient in rice and peas, a classic Caribbean side dish that pairs well with a variety of main courses.

Pineapple Soda: The Essence of Caribbean Refreshment

Pineapple Soda, with its sweet and effervescent character, offers a taste of the Caribbean's tropical bounty. This popular beverage is not just a thirst quencher but also a versatile ingredient in the culinary world.

Refreshing Qualities and Uses

As a drink, Pineapple Soda is cherished for its ability to refresh and invigorate, particularly in the warm Caribbean climate.

Its use extends beyond drinking; it's often utilized as a mixer in cocktails, adding a fruity, tropical twist to various beverages.

Incorporating Pineapple Soda in Cooking

Pineapple Soda finds its way into culinary preparations, particularly in marinades and glazes where its sweetness complements the savory flavors of meat dishes.

Exploring the Harmony of Red Peas and Pineapple Soda

Despite their different culinary roles, Red Peas and Pineapple Soda together exemplify the Caribbean's flair for combining diverse flavors. The hearty, savory taste of Red Peas dishes pairs wonderfully with the sweet, tangy profile of Pineapple Soda, offering a balanced and enjoyable dining experience.

Cooking with Red Peas and Pineapple Soda

Experimenting with these ingredients can lead to exciting culinary creations. For instance, a Red Peas stew flavored with Pineapple Soda offers a delightful mix of sweet and savory. Similarly, Pineapple Soda can be used to create a unique, fruity dressing for a salad that includes Red Peas.

Fusion and Innovation in Caribbean Cooking

The versatility of Red Peas and Pineapple Soda allows for their use in fusion dishes, blending traditional Caribbean flavors with international cuisines. This fusion represents the evolving nature of Caribbean culinary traditions, adapting and merging with global influences while maintaining its unique identity.

Health Benefits and Dietary Considerations

In addition to their rich flavors, both Red Peas and Pineapple Soda offer health benefits. Red Peas are a great source of plant-based protein and fiber, beneficial for heart health and digestion. While Pineapple Soda is a sweet treat, it can be enjoyed in moderation as part of a balanced diet.

Sustainability in Caribbean Cuisine

As the popularity of Caribbean cuisine grows globally, it's essential to consider the sustainability of ingredients like Red Peas and Pineapple Soda. Sourcing these ingredients from ethical and sustainable producers ensures the preservation of Caribbean culinary traditions while supporting local economies.

Incorporating Red Peas and Pineapple Soda in Modern Kitchens

For those looking to bring Caribbean flavors into their cooking, Red Peas and Pineapple Soda are excellent starting points. They can be used to add a Caribbean twist to familiar recipes or to experiment with new, innovative dishes that reflect the spirit of the islands.

Conclusion

Red Peas and Pineapple Soda are more than mere ingredients; they are a celebration of Caribbean culinary heritage. They showcase the region's ability to create dishes that are not only flavorful but also rich in history and culture. Whether you're a seasoned chef or a culinary explorer, these ingredients provide an opportunity to experience the vibrant and diverse flavors of the Caribbean. So why not embark on this flavorful journey and let Red Peas and Pineapple Soda inspire your next culinary adventure?

[notmuchtoconceal]

the boy was in the hallway drinkin a glass a tea

(glass a tea)

at the other end of the hallway a rhythm was generating

(was generating)

another boy was slidin up the hallway

(his golden nerves merged perfectly with the hallway)

he merged perfectly

(a radiant light)

with the hallway

(an aura around the mirror)

he merged perfectly

(merged and looked at Johnny)

a mirror

(fastened in the kitchen)

in the hallway

the boy looked at Johnny

Johnny wanted to run

but the movie kept movin as planned

(the movie kept movin as planned)

the boy took Johnny

(the boy took Johnny)

he pushed him against the locker

(he pushed him against the locker)

he drove it in

(he drove it in)

he drove it home

(he drove it in)

he drove it deep in Johnny

the boy disappeared

Johnny

fell on his knees

started crashin his head against the locker

started crashin his head against the locker

started laughin hysterically

when

su d d e n l y

Johnny

gets a feelin

he's bein surrounded by

horses

horses

horses

horses

comin in

in all directions

white

shinin

silver

studs

with their nose

in flames

he saw

horses

horses

horses

horses

horses

horses

horses

horses

do ya know how to pony

like Boney Maroney?

do ya how to twist?

well it goes like this

it goes like this

then ya mashed potata

do the alligator

do the alligator

and ya twist the twister

like ya baby sister

i want ya baby sista

gimme ya baby sister

i dig ya baby sister

drive it from ya knees

do the sweet pea

do the sweet pee pee

roll down on her back

got to lose control

got to lose control

got to lose control

and then ya took control

and then ya rolled down on ya back

do ya like it like that

like it like that

like it like that

like it like that

and then ya do the Watusi

yeah do the Watusi

//.\\

life is fulla holes

Johnny's layin there

in his sperm coffin

angel looks down at him and says

aw pretty boy

can't u show me nuthin but surrender?

Johnny gets up

takes off his leather jacket

taped to his chest

there's the answer

he's got

pen knives and

jack knives and

switch blades preferred

switch blades preferred

then

he cries

then he

screams

sayin

Life is full of pain

I'm crusin through my brain

and i'll fill my nose with snow

AND YA GO RIMBAUD

GO RIMBAUD!!!

GO RIMBAUD!!!

and go, Johnny go!

and do the Watusi

oh do the Watusi

//.\\

there's a little place

a place called space

it's a pretty lil place

it's across the tracks

across the tracks

and the name of the place is

ya like it like that

ya like it like that

ya like it like that

and the name of the band is

((( ))) . . .

Twistelettes

Twistelettes

Twistelettes

Twistelettes

Twistelettes

Twistelettes

Twistelettes

Twistelettes

baby calm down

better calm down

//.\\

on the night

of the eye of the forest

there's a mare

black and shining

with yellow hair

i put my fingers

through her silken hair

and found a stair

now i don't waste time i just

walk right up

saw that up there

there is a sea

(up there)

there's a sea

(up there)

there's a sea

seize the possibility

there's no land

(up there)

but the land

there's just the sea

(just the sea)

but the sea

(of possibility)

there's no keeper

(up there)

but the key

(there's a wall of)

except for one

(possibilities)

who seizes

possibilities

(up there)

one who seizes

possibilities

(there are several walls)

seize the possibilities

(of possibilities up there)

seize the first

possibility

(there are walls)

the sea around me

i was standin there

(in the sea)

with my legs spread

(of possibilities)

like a sailor

(the sea)

(possibilities)

(up there)

i felt

his hand on my knee

on the screen

and i

looked at Johnny

and handed him a

brancha coral flame

in the heart of man

the waves were comin in like

Arabian stallions

gradually lappin into seahorses

he picked up the blade

and he pressed it against his

smooth throat

(goin in)

and let it

dip in

(the veins)

dip in

(to the sea)

to the sea

of possibilities

(he started hardenin)

dip in

he started hardenin my hands

(to the sea)

(to the sea)

and i felt the arrows of

desire

(the possibilities)

i put my hand

inside his cranium

oh we had such a

brainiac amour

but no more

but no more

i gotta move

GO

from my mind

RIMBAUD!!!

to the edge

GO RIMBAUD!!!

GO RIMBAUD!!!

go go Johnny go!

and do the Watusi

yeah do the Watusi

do the Watusi

his skull

shot open

coils snakes

white and shinin

twirlin

and encirclin

our lives

are now entwined

we will

four years

be together

twinin

(build it!)

your nerves

(build it!)

your mane

(build it!)

of the black shinin

horse

and my fingers

all entwined

through your silky hair

(build it!)

i could feel it

(build it!)

it was the hair

(build it!)

goin through my fingers

(build it)

the hairs were

(build it!)

like wires

(build it!)

goin through my body

(build it!)

i

(build it!)

that's how i

(build it)

that's how i

(build it!)

i died

oh that

tower of babel

they knew what they were after

they knew what they were after

everythin

on the current

moved up

i tried to stop it

but it was too

warm

too unbelievably

(no possible ending)

smooth

(no possible ending)

like playin in the sea

(no possible ending)

in the sea

(no possible ending)

of possibility

the possibility

was a blade

a shiny blade

I Hold

the key

to the sea

of possibilities

there's no

land but the land

look at my hands

and there's a red stream

that went streamin

through the sands

like fingers

like arteries

like fingers

(all wisdom fixed between

(the eyes of a horse)

he lay pressin

it against his throat

(your eyes)

he opened his throat

(your eyes)

his vocal chords

started shootin like

(of a horse)

mad pituitary glands

the scream he made

(my heart)

was so high

(my heart)

pitched that nobody

that no

body heard

the cry no one heard

(Johnny)

a butterfly flappin

in his throat

(nobody heard)

his fingers

nobody heard

he was on that bed

it was like a sea

of jelly

and so he seized

the first

(his

vocal chords)

shot up

(possibility)

mad

pituitary glands

there was a

black tube

he felt himself disintegrate

(there is nothing

happening at all)

and go inside the black tube

so when he looked out into

(everything around him)

the street

(unraveling like some)

saw this sweet young thing

(long fender whine)

humpin on the parkin meter

leanin on the parkin meter

in the sheets

was a man

dancin round

to a simple

rock n roll song

[division-m]

The Merge [3] - Sweet Pea

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Paring: Sweet Pea x Reader

Genre: angst | AU

Word Count: 2,649

Part [3] Warning: Violence, Swearing.

Part [3] Brief: ❝ In which the silver moon was high in the sky giving off the only light over Riverdale, apart from the lampposts whose rays died inches from the dirty tungsten bulbs, and Sweet Pea held a rage the power of a wildfire, you could practically see the flames roaring in his eyes, ready to ignite anything that he came in contact with. We learn [y/n] is an enigma - not like that of books where words are so plainly written out and flow from page to page, but of books torn, frayed, and indecipherable.❞

Masterlist

[y/n] was currently lounging around with youngest Cooper just like old times;

[y/n] admired Betty’s room.

Her room was like a princess wonderland. The walls were a baby pink that pulsed in the light, sprinkled with various pictures, mostly of friends and a few celebrities, [y/n] noticed she still kept the montage they made together of them since they were 6 up to the age of 14. Her comforter was pulled over her bed. It was messy as they both laied on it together, this resulted in lumps of varying sizes and shapes to form on the comforter.

A desk sat in one corner, littered with wadded up pieces of paper and pens. A few shelves were pushed against the walls and filled with books. Some books sat on the floor in front of the shelves. How does Betty manage to make a mess of books look like they are perfectly placed? [y/n] will always wonder. 

"Simple, I heard the devil call out my name" [y/n] said in response to Betty's question;

"Why did you leave Riverdale two years ago? you just got up and left, it broke my heart”.

Betty's eyes shifted to the side and they soon became glazed with a glassy layer of tears. As she blinked, they dripped from her eyelids and slid down her cheeks. She bit her lip tightly in attempt to hide any sound that wanted to escape from her mouth; my heart sank.

Seeing Betty like this really broke my heart, all I want to do is protect her, that’s one reason why I left in the first place.

[y/n] whipped the tears from Betty's eyes.

"Betty.." [y/n] cooed,

"I'm back now and I'm staying, trust me, its like everyone born in this town in bound forever to it".

Betty accepted that response, however [y/n] didn't want anymore questions around why she left, so she changed the subject.

"Betty.. Chic seems nice.. Considering his current situation, I mean I can understand why he is a bit crude, he just reconnected with the family that gave him up, but your dad, he seems to hate him?" I inquired, really curious to why this is.

Betty shook her head "[y/n] I have no idea, mum loves him already and if im honest its like shes trying to make up for all the years she lost with him, but I can't understand why dad doesn't want the same, its like-" Betty was cut off by her mum entering the room with a huge smile.

"[y/n] its getting late, are you going to stay over?" Alice asked politely.

I always loved Alice, she was like a second mother to me when I was little, if I wasn't at my house, I was at hers, if I wasn't eating at my house, she always made sure I was feed.

"That’s okay Alice, I should be getting back to my Grams now, I'm sure she’s getting worried, iv been out all day" I refused politely much to Betty's dismay.

[y/n] hopped off Betty's bed and gave her a warm embrace and told her she'll see her tomorrow at school and made her way home.

[y/n] walked. She walked as her hair fluttered in the air, her clothes clung to her body, arms tightly wrapped around her. [y/n] felt cold wind stroking her skin, wanting to rip her clothes off her, as if she were its enemy. 

She lifted her hands to the air to feel short bursts of rain.

As she walked she couldn't help but remember that cursed night, that night her family left for Greendale, [y/n] remembers this path, because she ran it that night, remembering passing Betty and Archie's house at an ungodly hour, never knowing when she'll see them again.

*Flashback*

Being chased was nothing like the movies. The stars look heroic, sexy and in command of the situation. Reality was far removed from that pretty version of running to save you skin.

I'd had no time to put on shoes or even grab my jacket, my parents pulled me from my bed whispering to me;

"It's no longer safe".

Panic took over my expression. I could only think one word.

Hunters.

They travel to innocent towns, looking to exterminate unwanted family's. At the time Riverdale was innocent. 

Greendale on the other hand was not. It was known for its mystical nature. Hunters wouldn’t dare enter, it was the only safe place for our kind.

The mundane fear the town over Sweet Water River, ever heard the saying;

'you should know better than to be caught in Greendale after midnight'

Usually you would run from the town, yet the crescents were sprinting towards it.

My souls crashing into the asphalt a few times before I transitioned to the balls of my feet. My face is flushed red and my expression is pure panic.

The crescents managed to make it into the forest, the moon was at its peak and spooky doesn't quite cover it and eerie is an understatement of this situation.

I've seen darkness before, the kind that makes this forest look like an old fashioned photograph, everything a shade of grey. This isn't like that. This is the darkness that robs you of your best sense and replaces it with a paralyzing fear.

I only know my eyes are still there because I can feel myself blink, still instinctively moisturizing the organs I have no current use for, since the darkness was blinding. The only way I am getting through these thick trees is the hand of my father pulling me along.

By my genes I am a predator, I have the front facing eyes and brain enough to hunt, but I feel like prey in this utter black.

The dawn is hours away and until that precious time I can only run for my life. 

Hunters, they are skilled, deadly skilled, yet still mundane, and don't have the senses of my parents. Hence why they hunt us. And why they will always hunt us.

*End of flashback*

The memory sent shivers down [y/n’s] spine, as well the now pouring ice cold rain.

However the rain was the least of her problems in this moment, as she heard the revving up of motorcycles, she found herself in stumbling into a civil war.

There was stillness on both sides. If hatred was visible the air would have been scarlet.

Screams broke out. The men rushed forward, the attack was fierce and efficient.

[y/n] wasn't foreign to battles, she fought many herself, hence why she decided to climb the tree to her left and perch herself up on nearest branch. Ready to watch this turf war commence.

'This should be interesting' she entertained this thought.

As the fight was happening, [y/n] noticed a certain tall dark and handsome serpent throwing punches left and right.

'He is a good and confident fighter, its like he is trained.. Riverdale needs more of that' she smirked as she studied his fighting skills. 

A certain red head crashed a punch into Sweet Pea's stomach, a sudden gush of pain jolted throughout Sweet Pea's body. His stomach ached, his arms lost tension and his legs began to weaken.

[Y/n] studied the look on his god like features, its like she could read him like a book.

"He will not get the better of me" his features read.

His tongue was soaked in the taste of blood. Bruised and winded, with a leg in agony, he grabbed the foot of the captain and pulled him to the ground. His head was pounding. He brought a fist to the captain’s face, snapping his nose into a state of grotesquerie.

It pained [y/n] to see Archie this way but she commended him, he grew up over this past two years. 

'Least he is out here throwing elbows, thats my boy' she praised him internally.

"Listen here Northsider!" Sweet Pea demanded loud enough for the whole street to hear, as he man handled Archie's letterman collar.

"Normally I would give you mercy, however you think you can come to my house, stick a gun in my face, and there wouldn't be any payback? You're stupid. You blame the Northside for all the problems in this town! Watch us be declared innocent then see me come out fighting. I've thrown one punch at you and I already see you quiver. How weak you are? This isn't cruelty Andrews, this is justice. You cannot control your actions and so I’ll control you. Continue to fight me and you know I'll win, or maybe you like gambling? It's a sin, you know"

I sat there with my jaw dropped in utter shock at Sweet Pea's monologue.

'What the fuck have you been up to Archie, i thought he knew better than to mess with the Serpents.. Jesus' I internally battled whether to stop this, Archie can clearly fight but facts are facts, Sweet Pea could easy take him out.

Just as I was about to come down I heard my name being called.

"Veronica?" I whisper yelled.

She looked as though she had been running due to her flushed cheeks.

"What the hell are you doing here" She asked me wide eyed.

"Being entertained" I deadpanned.

"[y/n] that’s Archie out there, with the serpents fighting, we need to stop this right now!" Veronica rushed towards the madness but I grabbed her by the arm to pull her back to me.

"Veronica no listen, they are hand to hand combat right now, running in there unarmed or just running straight into those muscle pigs will get you hurt" I warned, Betty informed me Archie and Veronica were an item, and I also know Archie.

He would be beside himself if she got hurt.

"Oh but sweet [y/n] I am armed" Veronica pulled out a gun out of her obsidian hooded cape.

[y/n] studied the gun, it was, small, discreet and deadly. The metal was cold in Veronica's hand, icy perhaps.

"Oh Lodge you really are a paradox but I am not going to ask why you have that right but If you want to stop this fight I have a plan".

"Shoot, what's the plan" Veronica was serious about stopping this fight.

"That’s exactly the plan, shoot" I deadpan once again.

"What! Are you crazy we can't just-" Veronica panics.

"No no not at them! up into the air! It's a small gun but trust me it will be loud enough to capture everyones attention, but once you do that, you have to run and get Archie out of here! if the cops aren't already on their way they will be now, then once you’re safe get rid of that fucking gun!" I carefully yet firmly explain to Veronica as i hold her shoulders, she is smart she understood every order and was on bored.

[y/n] gave Veronica a encouraging push.

Veronica ran between two cars, now her senses sharpened with adrenaline, Veronica held her breath, still straining to focus with every ounce of her concentration is focused on making this right. Cool air whispered through her body, she breathed in;

She fired.

Not too long before Veronica fired, [y/n] ran over to where the Serpents kept their motorbikes, knowing Sweet Pea will run this way out of instinct.

[y/n] was right, once that gun was fired he sprinted in her direction, she took this oppotunity to grab his arm and drag his weak state into her side.

"Listen to me, the cops are on their way, now unless you want to be hauled in by the police you should follow me, I'll help you" [y/n] said with utter seriousness.

In this short moment she wasn't admiring him from afar, she was inches away from his heated body. For a moment it shattered her to see his features this way, He's a bloody mess, nose bleeding and his right eye black and blue thanks to Archies left hook. His arms are wrapped round his guts like he's holding them in. he's beat so bad.

"We don't have all day!" [y/n] raised her voice in fear as she saw him contemplate.

"Why do you want to help me" he didn't say with a raised voice, it's like he's speaking while being choked, he must have taken a few hits at his throat while [y/n] was with Veronica.

"Remember when you saved me from falling on my ass? Yeah well lets call this me paying back my debt to you okay, now let me help you this time". [y/n] made her point, a broken chuckle escaped his busted lip.

The sirens were becoming louder the cops were coming, it was time to get going.

[y/n] snaked an arm around his waist, he slung an arm over her shoulder, instinctively, almost like it was a natural fit.

Their bodies were much different in height and stature, yet that didn't stop [y/n] from easing any type of pain she could.

My feet slip outwards on the wet autumn leaves as I round the corner, the cold night air shocking my throat and lungs as I inhale deeper, faster. It wasn't easy having Sweet Pea lean on me. Sweet Pea was 6'5 and very heavy in this weak state. 

With each footfall a jarring pain shoots ankle to knee through Sweet Pea's legs, this was evident as I kept hearing him hiss.

"C'mon we can't slow down, lean on me more if you need to" [y/n] aided him with words.

He let out broken "mhm's" and “ah’s” in response. His mouth continuing to fill with an Iron taste as his teeth bit into his lips, clearly trying to stop himself from moaning in pain every second.

Due to this he kept spitting blood onto the ground.

"I'm sure you're leaving a trail with the amount of blood you're spitting" [y/n] sassed him.

"Well princess I can't swallow It can i? if I was Dracula, I would" He still managed to sass back even though he's seconds from passing out.

I'm confident I'll get Sweet Pea back to Grams safely, I know this estate better than they do, those cops are just pretty boys in uniform, shipped in from the nicer end of town. They're weighed down with guns, batons and electrical stun devices, all of them useless unless they get a clear shot, which they won't.

I can hear them panting with the effort from three hundred yards behind, that's how freakin' noisy and slow they are. Conditioning from a tread-mill with a stop-watch will never beat real-life training on the streets.

[y/n] knows that better than anyone, and if anyone can understand her street training, It would be Sweet Pea.

He wouldn't have trusted her with his life unless he had a feeling she knew what she was doing.

And Sweet’s had an intuition that was never wrong.

A/N: ahhh! This was so fun to right, I didn't want to end it! But I have to keep you guys wanting more hehe. How are you guy's enjoying so far? I'm mixing the current Riverdale storyline and the storyline from past episodes, so I hope you can understand that. And oooo what do you think about little miss crescents past?  Feedback is always encouraged and welcomed :)

Be well x

Also should out to @sweetypeaimagines <3 go check out her work its so lovely! And she is so sweet! She deserves all the recognition she gets.

[hazardsoflove]

every time rd mentions bettys a serpent makes me so angry

[thethreebroomsticksficfest]

Sands of Time

With the end of our soirée in sight, it is only fitting that we attend one last social event together. Today, @starlingflightt is taking us to a Slug Club party alongside Lily Evans and James Potter! Read it below or on AO3:

Username: StarlingFlight

Prompts: Sand & Chocolate Frog Card 

Summary: She just wants a relaxed evening of dull but essential networking, but a lot can happen at a Slug Club party and when has Lily Evans ever gotten what she wants?

Professor Slughorn’s office had been transformed. Flowers bloomed over every imaginable surface; peonies stood in bunches upon the windowsills, catching the final glows of orange sun on their blushing pink petals. Climbing vines of sweet peas wound around the supporting wooden columns which dotted the space, filling it with a sweet fragrance that would not have been out of place in a meadow. The centre of the room had been cleared of all furniture; from the ceiling overhead, bright petals fell like raindrops onto the heads of hundreds of happy, smiling, party-goers, before magically disappearing into nothing. Lily had never felt more alone. 

The party wasn’t proving to be the distraction she hoped and Petunia’s letter - now shredded into a thousand tiny pieces and scattered across the Hogwarts grounds - was still burning a hole in her mind. Sighing, she watched as Slughorn's guests mingled with ease. Their quiet conversation and easy laughter all merged together in a low hum which grew until she could barely hear the delicate sounds of the string quartet positioned on a raised platform - carpeted with wildflowers - beside the doors. 

Her gaze swept the sea of unfamiliar faces, considering each one in turn in search of a potential connection. Her attention settled on a middle-aged wizard with a salt-and-pepper goatee, he smiled and Lily thought the expression a friendly one. She took a step forward, preparing to make her move, but someone beat her to it. 

Lily paused. Prosper Snyde, a seventh-year Slytherin and, in her opinion, deeply unpleasant human being, strode up to the wizard with a smug smile. The wizard exclaimed in recognition before clapping Snyde jovially on the back.

Her stomach churned and she took a decisive step backwards. Her judgement was clearly off. The desire to leave - an urge Lily had been valiantly fighting all evening, filled her once more. She spun on her heel as she took another step away from the crowd, intent on making her way to the door but  her back collided with something large and slightly squashy. A hand gripped her shoulder. 

Lily whirled around, one hand already heading for her wand.

“Lily,” A familiar voice boomed.Her hand stopped in mid-air as she recognised Slughorn’s warm smile and walrus moustache. “Just who I was looking for - come with me!” 

She was given no chance to protest, not that doing so was an option for her. The only reason she had attended this stifling party, when Lily could think of few places she’d rather be, was to appease Slughorn - possibly the only person likely to get her any sort of respectable work when she finished Hogwarts next year. 

Plastering a smile across her face, Lily followed Slughorn. He was so sure of himself, in this room full of the magical elite, that his wide form cut an easy path through the crowd and she was able to follow easily to the opposite side of the room. They passed a tower of champagne flutes, an enormous bottle was suspended in mid-air above it, pouring golden liquid down like a fountain. 

Skirting around a small sitting area, where a group of elderly wizards, and one cunning-looking witch, were engrossed in a card game Lily did not recognise, Slughorn paused as they reached an alcove built into the wall, which Lily knew usually housed his desk in front of an ornately carved marble fireplace. 

The desk, it seemed, had been removed. Leaving a small space which still contained the fireplace, and a tall man with a finely lined face and jet black hair that matched his dress-robes, leaning up against it. He inclined his head politely towards Slughorn in greeting before picking up a glass of champagne which had been resting on the mantelpiece beside him, and taking a long drink from it. 

“Admiring my hourglass, I see, Monty!” Slughorn gestured towards an elaborate glass vessel atop the fireplace; pure, white sand flowed steadily from the top half into the bottom, carefully worked silver snakes had been wrought onto the sides of the hourglass, emeralds had been set deeply in place of eyes. 

“I’m not sure I’d say admiring…” The man -Monty, apparently - said cagily. His expression looked oddly familiar but Lily could think of no reason she would know anyone at this party. “It’s certainly not to my taste.” 

Slughorn did not seem in the least affronted by Monty’s lack of enthusiasm towards his decor. On the contrary, he laughed loudly and clapped Monty - who looked rather too frail for such vigorous behaviour - good-naturedly on the back. 

“It was a gift, of course. From Artemius Elwick.” Slughorn’s tone made it clear both Monty and Lily should know who Artemius Elwick was. Monty nodded knowingly and Lily followed suit, hoping desperately that her face didn’t look as blank as her mind currently felt. 

“A rather curious object -” Slughorn continued, evidently satisfied that he had suitably impressed his audience. Lily breathed a sigh of relief. “The sand flows in accordance with the quality of conversation. Should you find yourself stuck with a dullard, the sand will speed up, but, if you’re fortunate enough to enter a conversation you wish would never end, time, rather helpfully, stands still.” 

Intrigued, Lily turned to examine the hourglass once more. Sure enough, now that her attention had been captivated by such an extraordinary piece of magic, the sand had begun to slow, trickling, grain by grain, into the bottom glass chamber. 

“I knew you’d like that,” Slughorn said. Lily could hear the fond smile on his face, though her attention remained fixated on the hourglass. 

“Lily is one of my best and brightest students,” she heard Slughorn say and forced her focus back to the conversation at hand. “Just this afternoon she brewed me a flawless Draught of Living Death.” 

“Draught of Living Death, that would make you a sixth-year?” Monty asked with what she could only assume was feigned interest. Lily nodded in confirmation. “And a dab hand at potions?” 

“I’m alright,” Lily said modestly as her cheeks began to burn. 

“Alight?” Slughorn repeatedly incredulously. “She’s much better than alright. Outstanding on her OWL and very-likely to be Head Girl next year.” 

Lily fought the urge to fan her face with her hand, sure it must be redder than her quaffle. She held her gaze steady, determined not to show any hint of self-doubt. There were plenty of people who would doubt her based on nothing but the status of her birth, Lily would not join them. 

 “It sounds like you have a very promising future ahead of you,” Monty said kindly. 

Lily nodded noncommittally. How promising the future could be for someone in her position remained to be seen. 

Perhaps sensing a lull in the conversation, Slughorn turned to Lily, “Monty invented Sleekeazy’s, you know? The hair potion. He owns significant shares in Witchbottle Workshop, he’s always on the lookout for new talent.” 

Monty released a splutter of amused laughter. “My shares are purely financial. Mostly, I’m on the lookout for a good spot to nap, these days.” he said wryly. 

“Nonsense,” Slughorn said, waving a hand in front of his face as though attempting to swat away Monty’s words. “I know you wouldn’t -” 

Whatever it was Slughorn was confident Monty wouldn’t do, Lily never found out. His words were drowned out by a loud cry of “DAD!” 

Her head whipped around immediately at the sound of that voice. Sure enough two boys were making their way excitedly through the crowd towards Lily and her companions. Monty’s face transformed into a grin and Lily wondered how she hadn’t seen it before, hadn’t immediately placed the vague familiarity she’d sensed. 

“James, my boy!” Monty cried happily as James Potter fought his way out of the throng of party-goers and barrelled into him, knocking his glasses askew. Sirius Black trotted a few steps behind. They were both dressed in fine, yet understated dress robes. Black’s hair fell effortlessly into his face, while Potter looked like he’d made no attempt to tame his, as usual. 

“Sirius,” Monty said fondly, releasing James and pulling Black into a firm hug. Monty let go of Black and took a step back to examine both boys. “You both look well. Your mother has it in her head that you’re too focussed on Quidditch to look after yourself.”

James rolled his eyes. Sirius grinned delightedly as he threw an arm around James’ shoulder. “Tell Effie I’m taking good care of him,” he said solemnly. 

“Like she’ll believe that!” James said through a snicker. 

Lily took a small step backwards, intent on escape. James Potter’s perfectly blissful domestic life was more than she could handle tonight. The small movement, however, seemed to have the opposite of her desired effect as James turned to face her before she could take another step. 

“Alright, Evans?” he said, his voice tinged with mild surprise. 

“Oh, hello,” She said faintly, as though she had only just noticed James standing there. “Sirius,” She inclined her head in Black’s direction. 

“Professor Slughorn was just telling me all about Lily’s skill at potion brewing,” Monty said. 

James grinned and Lily’s stomach seemed to tie itself in knots. She shook herself internally, there was no reason to feel nervous. Last year, perhaps, James would have taken this opportunity to have a laugh at her expense, but she had seen a change in him recently. Now that Lily thought about it, she could not remember the last time he’d said something that made her reach for her wand, intent upon jinxing him. 

“I wouldn’t know,” James said with a shrug. “She refuses to sit with me in class.” 

"I don't refuse to do anything!" Lily burst out, without consciously deciding to speak. 'It's impossible to get anywhere near you, with John, George and Ringo following you around everywhere." 

She gestured vaguely towards Sirius, who silently mouthed ‘Who’s Ringo?’ at James and received a confused shrug in response. Lily’s mouth snapped shut as her brain caught up with her. What was she doing? She was supposed to be making a good impression, not being baited into insulting Potter in front of his apparently influential father. 

“I should probably be going,” she said, taking a step away from the little group and silently praying she looked like she had somewhere important to be. Not, as was the truth, like she was going to scurry up to Gryffindor Tower and hide in the solitude of the hangings of her four-poster for the rest of her miserable life. 

“No, you don’t have to leave,” James said quickly. 

“I’m sure you want to catch up with your father,” Lily said politely, inclining her head towards Monty.

“Nonsense,” said Monty, giving James a doting smile. “I was about to head out, myself. I’m not as young as I used to be.” 

“I’ll walk you out,” James offered. 

Monty shook his head. “I daresay I can find my way to the front doors perfectly well. I’ll see you both -” he looked between James and Sirius. “- at Platform Nine and Three Quarters tomorrow.” 

James began to protest, intent on seeing his father to the exit but Monty waved away his arguments with one hand. “I’m sure I raised you not to leave a young lady unaccompanied.” He threw a meaningful look in Lily’s direction. 

“I can walk your father out,” Sirius offered, shoving James in Lily’s direction before turning back towards Monty. “I need to speak to you anyway - I need some investment advice.” 

James’ eyebrows shot up past the frames of his glasses. ‘Investments?’ he mouthed as though the concept was brand new to him. Sirius merely winked and fell into step beside Monty who had shook Slughorn’s hand, kissed the top a bewildered looking James’ head and was already making his way towards the door.

“Have fun,” he called over his shoulder. The last thing Lily saw before he disappeared into the crowd was a distinct twinkle in his hazel eyes and then she and James were left alone with Slughorn. 

“I really ought to be going too,” Lily tried again. “I wanted to get some last minute -” 

“Leave?” Slughorn looked aghast at the suggestion. “Of course you can’t leave! It’s still early!” 

James grinned at her and the knots in her stomach tightened inexplicably once more. “You wouldn’t leave a gentleman all alone, would you, Evans?” 

“I’ll let you know if I see one.” 

Far from looking offended, James’ smile widened until it was almost too dazzling to look at. Lily felt the corners of her lips twitch, the first genuine smile she could remember since Petunia’s letter had arrived two days ago. 

Slughorn did not seem to have heard Lily and James’ exchange, busy as he was scanning the crowd above their heads. “Look,” he said, his eyes lighting up as though he had just spotted a fat pot of gold. “There’s the Evanders. Caius has a seat on the Wizengamot and Fulvia is a big name in Hippogriff breeding, she sends me the finest quills from her herd- Come! I’ll introduce you.” 

Lily found herself swept into the tide of Slughorn’s movement, James Potter propelled along beside her. They made their way out of the alcove and back into the flowery nightmare of the party, shortly, they arrived beside the wizard with the salt-and-pepper beard Lily had almost approached earlier. 

He had been joined by a severe-looking witch with hair as pale as the ghosts who roamed the castle. Prosper Snyde, unfortunately, looking just as comfortable as he had earlier beside them. 

“Caius, Fulvia!” Slughorn said, shaking Mr Evanders hand vigorously and kissing Mrs Evander on the cheek. “Might I introduce two of my most accomplished students.” 

Lily only half-listened as Slughorn launched into an explanation of her and James’ deeds of note - a long list for Lily, which included prefect, head of the potions club and Gobstones Champion and a rather shorter list for James once you discounted everything that had earned him a detention. James’ list, of course, included a surname the Evanders had inevitably heard before. Something Lily could never hope to possess. 

Lily tried to force herself to pay attention as Mr Evander regaled them all with a story about the goings-on at the Quidditch club he evidently owned.She smiled and laughed when the moment seemed to call for it, but inside her heart was sinking into her stomach as she wasted another minute listening to pointless nonsense from a man who had no interest in her capabilities and would never be able to give her what she wanted. 

Beside her, she was surprised to see, Potter did not look any more interested in Evander’s Quidditch trivia than Lily did. His eyes had glazed over and he was taking increasingly frequent sips from the glass of firewhiskey he had somehow managed to procure during their walk from the fireplace. 

Professor Slughorn’s hand came to rest lightly on Lily’s shoulder, pulling her attention away from Potter and back to the conversation at hand.. “...Over there. I’ll leave you all to become better acquainted.” Before she could comprehend what she had missed, Slughorn withdrew, clearly intent on catching up with another one of his neverending list of connections. 

His absence left a silence that Mrs Evander was clearly desperate to fill. She turned to Lily, “Evans was it? Any relation to -” 

“She’s not a relation to anyone,” Snyde cut in, a sneer on his face. 

Lily’s chest tightened painfully. She wondered if Snyde had any idea how close he was to the truth. The very choice to stand in a room such as this has required to leave her family behind, in ways she hadn’t truly been able to comprehend until recently. 

“She wasn’t asking you, Snyde,” James snapped, a hard look on his face. His hand tightened on his now-empty glass until his knuckles turned a stark white. 

“My parents are Muggles,” Lily said, willing her voice not to shake. 

“Oh,” Mr Evander mumbled. His nose wrinkled momentarily before his expression became perfectly blank. “How… interesting.” 

Lily was overcome by the sudden urge to run but  remained rooted to the spot. She jutted her chin out, holding her head high and ignoring the searing mixture of shame and fury burning within her. 

“It is interesting, isn’t it?” James said, his voice tinged with steel. “Professor Newell was telling me about a little machine they carry around in their pockets that does all their adding up for them. Sounds like a dream to me.” 

“A calculator,” Lily mumbled, cheering slightly at the obvious awe in James’ voice.

“Fascinating,” Mrs Evander said dryly. 

“It rather proves what we all suspected, doesn’t it?” Snyde said, his pompous smile robbing Lily of any good feeling James had caused in an instant. “That the Muggles are too stupid to do anything for themselves.” 

Mrs Evander laughed nervously. Mr Evander took a long sip of his drink. Lily’s hands began to shake, blood rushed loudly through her ears. She should have known, no one was going to defend -

“I don’t know,” said James. His voice was perfectly placid, though his eyes sparked with a fire Lily had never seen in them before. “I don’t see any Muggles trapped in a conversation with you, Snyde, obviously they’re smart enough to avoid anything that unpleasant.” 

Snyde’s smug smile fell from his face. His eyes narrowed to dangerous slits as they darted between Lily and James. “Everyone knows your family’s odd, Potter, but I didn’t think you’d lower yourself to a Mudblood.” 

Lily had no time to register the sting Snyde’s comment caused her, or the uncomfortable look shared between Mr and Mrs Evander in the split second before James withdrew his wand and pointed it directly at Snyde’s face. 

“Now really,” Mrs Evander said. Evidently, the thought of James cursing Snyde and causing a scene was more distasteful to her than the treatment Lily had endured from Snyde and she had finally been compelled to speak. 

James ignored her. His arm was impeccably steady and his wand remained inches from the tip of Snyde’s nose. “Apologise,” he hissed. 

Lily’s skin began to crawl. Without turning to look she knew the eyes of those nearest them were turning to stare. A scene might be an embarrassment Mrs Evander wished to avoid, but for Lily it would be a costly mistake that she simply could not suffer. 

She moved swiftly, grabbing James' wrist without wasting a moment. He was strong but he yielded to her touch, lowering his wand in an instant. His piercing glare, however, was still fixed on Snyde. 

“Well, meeting you was exactly as pleasant as I'd expected. We must be going,” Lily said, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she looked over her shoulder and gave the Evanders a tight smile. 

She could feel her composure beginning to crack. The weight of everything seemed to settle on her shoulders. Without thinking she began to hurry away from the crowd of party-goers, her feet carrying her back towards the alcove and the fireplace with her hand still clutched around James Potter’s wrist. 

He hurried to keep up with Lily, allowing her to drag him away. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she said through gritted teeth, feeling not fine at all. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” James offered. “I could walk you back to Gryffindor Tower?” 

“I can’t leave now.” 

“Why not? You wanted to leave five minutes ago?” 

“That was before,” Lily said as they reached the fireplace. She let go of James’ wrist and leant against the wall of the alcove, hoping Snyde couldn’t see her as she closed her eyes and took five deep, steady breaths.  

She opened her eyes to find James leaning against the unlit fireplace, studying her intently. Behind him, the white sand in Slughorn’s hourglass glittered as it poured downwards in a steady stream. Lily felt an odd sense of longing, a desperate desire to truly be capable of manipulating time. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to go?” James asked again. 

“No,” Lily said firmly. “I can’t.” 

“I’ll walk you out,” James offered, apparently deciding Lily’s refusal was based on fear. “Snyde’s a git but I could definitely take him in a duel-” 

“No,” Lily repeated. “If I go now, he’ll think he’s got to me.” 

James studied her face again. “Hasn’t he?” 

“No. Yes. A bit,” Lily admitted grudgingly. 

A house-elf bearing a heavy, silver tray passed by them and James plucked two glasses off it. He handed Lily one and she took a long drink, savouring the cleansing, burning sensation of firewhiskey in her throat. 

“Are you feeling okay, Evans?” James asked as she lowered her half-empty glass. “You’ve been seeming a bit off all week.”

“Have I?” 

“Yeah, you didn’t come to dinner last night. Or the night before.” 

Lily adopted a sardonic smile. “Watching me, were you?” 

Her attempts at deflection failed immediately, James did not rise to her bait. “I’ve not seen you hanging around with Snivellus recently either -” 

“It’s nothing to do with him.” Lily snapped, her voice dripping with acid even as she knew she was lying. 

“It is something then?” James asked, looking not the least perturbed by Lily’s tone. If anything, he looked rather pleased with himself; a small smile crept at the corners of his lips and one finger ran lazily around the rim of his firewhiskey glass. 

She didn’t know what made her speak. Perhaps it was the mention of Sev, who she hadn’t said a word to in months. Maybe, it was Snyde calling her a Mudblood and confirming that even showing up at this ridiculous party had been a foolish waste of time. Or quite possibly, it was simply that Lily had had no one to properly talk to since she’d received Petunia’s letter and James just happened to be the unlucky person for whom the floodgates were opening. 

“My sister asked me not to come home for the holidays.” 

James’ triumphant smile vanished in an instant. “She what? Why?” 

“She wrote to me a few days ago. Apparently, everyone at home is getting on just fine without me and it’d be better if I didn’t disrupt them with my ‘abnormality.” 

James seemed lost for words. His eyes roved Lily’s face as though searching for an abnormality he had been previously unaware of. 

“Well, stay here then,” he said finally. Clearly satisfied he had just solved all of Lily’s problems with a single sentence. 

Lily laughed but there was no humour in it. She felt a sting behind her eyes and blinked furiously before any tears could fall. She waved vaguely at the petal-covered crowd behind her and the unpleasant truth that had been plaguing her every thought for the past two days tumbled from her lips, “no one wants me here either.” 

“Of course they do!” James argued without hesitation. 

Lily simply shook her head, unable to get any words past the tightness that had begun to build in her throat. She knew the truth and there was nothing James Potter could say to change it. Petunia and Severus, the two people who knew Lily better than anyone in the world, thought she was worthless. There was only one choice remaining to her; would she rather be the Mudblood or the freak? 

“Your sister is the girl who comes to Kings Cross with you at the start of term?” James asked. “The one who always looks like someone’s set a dung bomb off right under her nose?” 

Lily nodded, unable to find any motivation to defend Petunia at the current moment.  

“So your uptight sister and a dick like Snyde don’t like you?” James shrugged. “Seems like you’re doing something right to me.” 

“Maybe,” Lily said, determined not to allow James to cheer her up when she was perfectly content to wallow in self-pity. 

James brightened suddenly, his expression the same one he usually got in Transfiguration when he finally mastered a new spell. She watched as he withdrew something from the inside pocket of his dress robes and turned towards the mantelpiece to snatch an ostentatious hippogriff feather quill from its inkpot. 

“This is my address,” he said, using the wall to lean on as he scribbled something on a bright purple piece of parchment. “Sounds like you’re in for a miserable Easter and I always get bored at home.” 

He thrust the piece of parchment towards her and Lily realised it was in actual fact a chocolate frog card upon which James had managed to squeeze an address in Godric’s Hollow between the edge of and the text.

“I don’t know if you have an owl, but I’m sure the Muggle postman will find us.” 

"You want me to write to you?" Lily asked, confused. 

"Er, yeah," James replied, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Over Easter. And I'll write back, I can't leave you wallowing all alone, can I?" 

"You don't have to do that," she forced herself to say, hating how thin and pathetic her voice sounded. 

"I want to," James said, his voice dripping with sincerity. "You'll be doing me a favour, if anything. I need something to do other than gorging myself on chocolate. Last year, I was in serious danger of my broom not being able to lift me after Easter." 

Lily smiled despite her commitment not to. "Well, I can't let you risk our chances at the Quidditch Cup." 

"I'm sorry to have to burden you with such a responsibility," James sighed. "But as a Prefect it's your duty to keep me on the straight and narrow." 

Lily nodded seriously. For once, she ignored the urge to point out that no one had ever been successful at keeping James in line. “It’s a cross I’m willing to bear.” 

James looked at her, his eyes seemed to penetrate the walls she had built around herself. Lily looked down, suddenly unable to stand the intensity of his gaze. 

"Do you always carry this with you?" She asked quickly, studying the chocolate frog card. Godric Gryffindor's noble expression stared back at her. It seemed an odd thing to have in the pocket of one's dress robes. 

"Yeah," James said, reaching up and ruffling his hair so that it stood up at odd angles. "My dad gave it to me just before I got on the train in first year - not that I was scared," he added quickly. Lily suspected he could think of no worse insult. 

"And you've kept it with you all this time?"

James fiddled with his hair again. "I suppose it's like a good luck charm." Lily noticed a hint of a blush creep across his cheeks. 

"You can't give it to me," she said, attempting to hand it back to him. 

James refused the gesture. "I didn't have anything else to write on. Just send it back with your first letter.” 

Lily hesitated. She looked at the card again and was surprised to find the little image of Gryffindor oddly comforting. Carefully, she tucked it into her pocket. 

James grinned at her. "Now can we get out of here?" He asked. "I only popped in to see my dad, I hate these things." 

Somewhat surprised, Lily looked out at the crowd past the alcove. She had forgotten there was anyone else there. 

"I'll transfigure Snyde's ears into turnips on the way past," James said cajolingly. 

Lily made a noise halfway between a laugh and an exasperated sigh. James attempted to hide his smile by turning to replace the quill back into its inkwell.   

Lily's eyes were drawn to a faint glimmer just to the left of the quill on the fireplace, where Slughorn's hourglass stood. The sand no longer flowed between the two halves, but remained perfectly still, suspended in mid-air. 

[thrillridesz]

heart racing ▫ j.yn

in part of the adrenaline rush! collab hosted by @lucas-wongs​ + @ickjun​

⇢ pairing: jaehyun x reader (f) (ft. other nct members + twice’s jeongyeon)

⇢ genre: fluff, angst, racer!au, best friends to lovers

⇢ warnings: swearing, mentions of cheating, mentions and consumption of alcohol, alcoholism, hitting rock bottom

⇢ synopsis: once a revered member of the racing industry, jaehyun has been living at rock bottom for the past few months following a tragic accident that effectively put him out of racing. it seems as though nothing would get through to him, not even you. will he ever break out of the constant loop of doubt and start seeing things for what they really are?

⇢ word count: 8.04k

⇢ fic playlist: get you to the moon - KinaBeats ft. Snøw | Amnesia - 5SOS | You Belong With Me - Taylor Swift | Confetti Falling - Big Time Rush | Go Season - Devin Bronson (highly recommended for the racing scene) | Love Story - Taylor Swift 

⇢ a/n : unedited! also posted on this account because I’m considering merging my nct account with my tbz writing blog also PLEASE check out the other writers’ works ^^ we’ve all worked hard on our fics

“Jaehyun, you’re ruining yourself.”

The dim room reeked of stale alcohol and something mouldy as the empty beer bottles that littered the floor clanged noisily against the surrounding furniture, leaking golden yellow liquid all over. Old, worn clothes were draped everywhere, stained and darkened with murky stains while the battered television flickered weakly to live, showing nothing but static. The walls were streaked and striated with scratches, as if someone had just been clawing desperately at them and on the floor amidst the empty glass bottles, were pieces of scrap poster paper. Sunlight peeks in through the drawn blinds, giving a teasing glimpse to the bustling outside world from the sad, decrepit apartment Jaehyun lived in.

Sprawled on the couch with nothing on except a wrinkled pair of jeans, Jaehyun’s eyes were devoid of emotion - blank and dazelike. In his hand, his fingers held on limply to the neck of yet another bottle of beer, possibly his nth for the day. His usually shiny hazel brown hair was greasy with filth and his bare chest was sticky with sweat from being cooped up all day in this tiny, stuffy apartment of his. His jawline was starting to grow a hint of stubble given how much he’d completely let himself go and dark circles were appearing underneath those intense eyes of his.

Slowly, Jaehyun lifted his gaze from the floor to look at you, the first flicker of emotions that he’d ever displayed in the whole day. You stood before him, arms akimbo, your gaze sharp and piercing. He smiled, a smile that held no mirth or happiness.

“Oh, you’re still here.”

You shook your head, ripping the bottle of beer from his grasp. As you approached, the bottles, clothes and torn pieces of paper on the ground almost made you trip and you tutted under your breath.

“Of course I am. I’m your best friend who is somehow still here with you. Best friends help each other.”

He chuckled nonchalantly, waving his hand at the door. “Well, feel free to leave then. I don’t need your help.” His eyes held a hint of anger as he did, something that did not escape your notice.

“Jaehyun,” you said softly, placing the bottle on a nearby table as you dread what was to come next. “Please, not this again.”

Your words only served to fuel the fiery spark of anger in his eyes as he said in a barely controlled tone, the irritation radiating from him in ripples that threatened to evolve into waves, “Why not? I’m a fucking wreck and a loser anyways. Leave like everyone else did. Leave like…” His voice wobbled, “leave like Jeongyeon did.”

Your heart fell and it took almost a godlike willpower not to let your emotions show. Was he still thinking about her?

“Jaehyun-”

“What? Are you gonna say I’m not a loser like you always do? Cut the fucking lies. Everyone out there is saying the same thing, what makes you think you can convince me that you’re not thinking it either? Hm?” He spat, the drowsiness in his demeanour dissipating fast as red hot anger replaced it. There was so much internal frustration within Jaehyun that just seeing him like this was enough to break your heart. It was one thing to see him in this terrible state but it was quite another to see him directing his anger towards you.

You drew in a deep breath, trying to calm your pounding heart and to stop the tears that pricked at the corner of your eyes. Having been there with him every step of the year ever since the both of you were children playing and horsing around the neighbourhood, you found yourself desperately missing those much simpler times and wondering how things became so wrong.

For as long as you could remember, Jaehyun had always been interested and had a natural flair for racing. There always existed a competitive streak in him that thrived off a challenge. It didn’t matter what it was, as long as it was a game that could have a clear winner or incited competitiveness, he was all up for it. As kids, the two of you used to compete over everything, be it for the last popsicle in the convenience store down the street or past the gates of your school. It was as if racing was something he needed in order to live. It wasn’t until sophomore year of high school did Jaehyun decide to take his love for racing to a professional level. He began to dive deep into the motorsport industry, starting out as a mere rookie in auto racing. He never did apply to college, preferring instead to invest all his time into his newfound life career.

His rise to fame was quick, quicker than most. Within his first year, he had won a number of races, beating even some of the well known names in the sport. Every other month, he was winning trophies and exorbitant cash prizes which in return earned him the recognition of famous sponsors and racers. Bumper stickers from the various sponsors decorated the back of his ride and it was no time at all before Jaehyun began to don some of the most expensive sports gear on the tracks. With his smouldering good looks, he also appeared on the front pages of magazines and newspapers, all while attracting a loyal fanbase made up of both racing enthusiasts and adoring admirers.

To everyone else, he was the suave, handsome and effortlessly cool young racer who was practically born to race and to do it well but to you, he was your childhood friend… and your first love. In front of the flashing lights and cameras, Jaehyun knew his way around the crowd. He knew exactly when to flash one of his dazzling, dimpled smiles and how to work the crowd - it was just one of his innate charms. Yet, you knew that underneath that, that flashy, extravagant Jaehyun, was the Jaehyun you grew up with and had gradually fallen in love with.

As children, he was there for you whenever you needed him, always ready to lend a helping hand when he noticed that you were stuck in an unfavourable situation. You distinctly remember what had happened in second grade. It was a bright and warm summer’s day, the lovely scent of sweet peas floating in the air as the sun bore down on the earth. Pigeons flitted over the sidewalks, pecking at the cemented floor and the leaves of the oak trees that lined the streets rustled gently in the wind.

You fell with a loud and heavy thud on your bottom, feeling the leaves crunch noisily under your weight. Fear and trepidation coursed through your veins as you stared with eyes wide at your tormentors.

“Look at her, she looks pathetic. Do it, Johnny! Do it!”

A tall, hunkering boy flanked by his cronies stood over you, his dark, massive shadow engulfing you as you frantically scrambled backwards. Tears were beginning to stream down your face and a sharp pain shot up your spine with each move, owing to the impact of the fall. There were scratches on your hands as you dragged your palms over the rough gravel in an attempt to move away.

There was a malicious glint in Johnny’s eyes and his lips were curved into a devious smirk as he stared down at you, domineering and intimidating. The veins in his arms and hands were bulging angrily and as he clenched his fists, you felt your stomach sink. Your legs began to feel like jelly and your vision was beginning to blur from all the salty tears. You were struck with fear and the sense of helplessness you felt made you feel both ashamed and furious at yourself yet there was nothing you could do.

You held your hand up to shield yourself from the impending attack as the bully lifted up his fist.

“Hey! How about you pick on someone your own size?!”

The group of you turned to see Jaehyun, eyes blazing with anger as his chest heaved. His wind-swept hair hung over his eyes, a surefire sign that he’d run over and his cheeks were red from exertion. Even from afar, he was clearly no match to Johnny’s larger build, much less the whole lot of them.

“J-Jaehyun?” You spluttered, shocked.

“Who is this clown- Ow!” Johnny stumbled backwards as a rock pebble hit him on the head, promptly ricocheting off his forehead and bouncing onto the ground. His jaw was clenched in pain and when he removed his palm, a reddish bruise had blossomed and there was even a faint trace of blood. There was a split second of stunned silence before Johnny turned almost magenta with rage.

“GET HIM!” He roared and his cronies shook out of their daze, immediately going after Jaehyun who’d already ran a good distance before the reality of what had just happened set in. His mocking laugh rang through the afternoon amidst a cackle of profanities and threats yelled at him.

It was a laugh that remained in your memories all these years. It was a laugh that strengthened you, a laugh that spoke so much of willful courage and youthful rebellion which was everything you’d eventually come to associate with Jaehyun. That laugh was bright and so… him.

Yet now, you could see none of that playful mischief and vibrancy in those eyes. All that is left is emptiness.

“You’re not a loser, Jaehyun,” you began softly, “you never were in my eyes. You were a fighter.”

Those beautiful eyes you adored so much narrowed at you, his face twisted into a scowl.

“A fighter? Guess what, y/n?” He sneered, his voice dripping with venom. “I fought. I fought endlessly but did that work out for me? I threw in everything I could, every little thing. I worked hard and put in a hundred and one percent of my effort.”

You stared at him, your heart aching for him as a single tear began to roll down his cheek, tears of anger, indignation and pain.

“But did that work out? No, it didn’t. If anything, it left me a wreck. People out there call me a loser, a has-been and even my girlfriend has left me. It doesn’t matter how much effort I put in, how much I fought because at the end of the day, everyone is only here because of what they think I am. They saw me as a champion, an up and coming and the moment I wasn’t anymore, they all dropped me in a heartbeat. What are you waiting for, y/n? Why the hell are you even still here?”

His words echoed through the empty apartment and out loud, it sounded bleak, harsh and biting. His anguished voice tore at your heart and as each word left those lips, it felt like your heart was slowly breaking apart. Neither of you said anything for a moment, locked in a silent, unspoken fight as he held your gaze steadily. His eyes were cold and there was the look of a broken man in them.

“I am here because I love you, Jaehyun,” you said finally, your voice quivering. “I don’t care who or what you are and it pains me to see you tear yourself down like this because I know you are not the loser you believe you are. I don’t know how much of this I can take, seeing you ruin yourself.”

You can see the slight softening in his eyes and you gritted your teeth.

“I’m going to go. I don’t know when I’ll be back. I can’t see you ruin yourself and be able to do nothing about it. I’m not strong enough for that.”

With that, you left the apartment before he could see the tears in your eyes.

The miserable, empty can of beer clattered loudly against the hardwood floor, the sound echoing through the dank apartment.

Jaehyun barely lifted an eyebrow, his fingers growing slack without him even knowing. He stared up at the dark ceiling, a hooded look in those once bright eyes. The stench that hung around him was growing more intense by the day and it was reaching a point whereby he could almost smell himself but there was nothing in him that seemed to care.

Sounds of active civilisation outside drifted in through the windows and occasionally, he’d hear the honking of angry drivers on the roads or the laughter of children playing at the playground at the courtyard below. Normally, he loved waking up to these sounds or at least when he wasn’t off to the race tracks, when he was relaxing with a book in his hands. Now however, he found them irksome, irritating and he wanted nothing more but to block them out. He wanted absolutely zero reminder of the world outside.

Grunting, Jaehyun dragged himself off the couch. As he trudged heavily back to his room where his comfortable bed beckoned to him, he turned to stare at the large, imposing front door where moments ago, you’d slammed shut as you left him to his own devices.

Guilt tugged at his heart and for a split second, Jaehyun contemplated running after you. When you left, there was an indescribable sense of hollowness that engulfed him in a way that he couldn’t quite understand or explain. The apartment was filthy, dark and small but somehow with you around just a few minutes ago, it felt just a little bigger, a little warmer. As much as he hated to admit it, his heart was calling to him to reach out to you, run after you. The crumpled look on your face haunted him but he shook the thought from his mind.

It would be better if you left him. If you knew what was good for you, you would.

The anger in him was beginning to resurface at the thought of everything that had happened over the past few months. His career plummeting on a downward spiral right after his recovery, the exact opposite of what was predicted by his agent.

He was born to race, his family and his friends had always told him so. He knew it himself, he could feel it in his blood, his bones, his spirit. Ever since he was little, Jaehyun had known that his career would have something to do one way or another with racing. As a child, he loved running, competing but most of all, he loved riding in his father’s pickup truck on the way to school. He loved the way the vehicle would zoom past the streets, overtaking other vehicles and he loved the feeling of the wind against his face. He loved the speed and everything about cars or racing. It felt natural for him to pursue a career in competitive racing and a natural he was.

After getting signed with a racing company, Jaehyun quickly rose to fame with his numerous championships, bagging trophies, medals and cash prizes in almost every event he participated in. Sports magazines and reporters would clamour over each other to score an interview with him. People wanted pictures with him, wanted him to sign an autograph for them.

He was the golden boy in the racing world, an untouchable.

In the racing world, everything goes a mile a minute and nothing waits for anyone. After the morbid crash at the June Tokyo Prix, Jaehyun had sustained several fractures to his ribs and a severe concussion that left him in the hospital’s intensive care unit bedridden for several months. The pain was unlike any other and every single move hurt immensely but what suffered more damage than he did was his career and his relationships.

Within months, the racing career he had so painstakingly built up for himself collapsed before him. Due to long inactivity, brands and sponsors began to drop him, slowly at first then steadily one by one. He was also constantly under the media’s scrutiny for a period of time, their cameras and microphones thrusted in his face while he lay helpless on the hospital bed. The bright flashes blinded him and the loud noises made his head pound and even now, he still remembered how that experience was like, shuddering every time it crossed his mind. It had taken Jaehyun countless hours of physical therapy before he could even think of racing competitively again.

Yet when he did, he quickly realised he never could revert back to his old self, the one who got off on adrenaline kicks while zooming along the tracks at breakneck speed, the one who only knew what it was like to win. He was slower, less coordinated. His body could no longer take the pressure racing would subject it too, or at least not quickly enough for him to make a full, stunning comeback.

The tabloids and news had run wild with his fall from grace, writing up horrible, demeaning articles about him. His rivals had mocked him to his face and he could even sense the visible disappointment from his fans emanating from the stands whenever he’d lost yet another race. The thing that really broke the camel’s back however, was when his girlfriend Jeongyeon initiated a breakup.

Jaehyun had hoped that things would turn for the better, never one to give up. He’d trained tirelessly everyday, pushing his brittle body to the limit. He never let up on himself, gritting his teeth through all the physical and mental pressure he had imposed on himself. When the final text was sent, Jaehyun could remember distinctly how hopeless and distraught he’d felt. It felt like his world, the empire he had so painfully and relentlessly crafted for himself from scratch was breaking bit by bit. To add salt to the wound, the next time he’d seen her on television, her body was plastered against his biggest rival, Yuta. Her arms were wrapped around his and her lips pressing against his cheeks with no shame whatsoever for the interviewer interviewing him, no sign of the girl who’d once told him that she loved him with all her heart.

What was once determination and naive hopefulness soon devolved into anger and resentment. Jaehyun began to let himself go and the change was drastic. Where there once existed a time whereby he’d rise from his slumber early to visit the gym, he now regularly slept well into the late afternoon. His diet began to consist largely of takeout, junk food and alcohol and his apartment got more and more cluttered by the day. He’d stopped contacting his friends and family, ignoring their calls and texts, preferring to fester in his own solitude. It wasn’t long before an odour had started to emit from his place, a nauseating mixture of stale pizza, beer and pure filth from the lack of showers.

His appearance was also no longer polished, but rather haggard as if he’d aged five years in a matter of months. He was beginning to lose his fit stature, the healthy glow he’d once been prized on by magazines and gossip columns dimming. It got to a point whereby Jaehyun had begun to avoid looking at his hideous reflection in the mirror, his self-hatred growing with each day.

A poster of him in his racing gear and his race car was tattered and wrinkled on the floor, stained with ketchup and soda. Staring at it blankly with eyes empty of any emotions whatsoever, Jaehyun swiped it up and in a swift moment, he tore it up with a large rip before trashing it somewhere on the floor.

Flopping onto his comforter, he almost moaned in pleasure as he sunk into the soft sheets. Reaching for the air conditioning control, a loud smack on the ground roused him from his hedonistic haze. His hair was sticking up in all directions as he peered over the edge of his bed to see a picture frame that had fallen from his night stand.

Holding it in his hands, he looked at it with a nonchalant air.

It was a picture of the both of you a few years ago, back when he was just kick starting his racing career. He hadn’t yet made a name for himself then as the two of you leaned in for the picture.

You had on a bright, illuminating beam on your face, your eyes alive and glittering with happiness. Your hair was down, wisps of it framing your face as the sun brought out the colour and shine of it. Next to him, you’d completely dwarfed in comparison. He had his arm around you, bringing you to his side and from the picture, Jaehyun could feel a smile begin to crack on his face at the comical height difference.

He’d looked completely at ease here, carefree with the recklessness and restlessness of the soul beneath shining through his dark eyes. His hair was wavy, styled down in that ridiculous fashion he wanted so badly to leave back in high school. He had worn a dimpled smile on his face, the look of someone who knew he was destined for greatness and believed in it.

Jaehyun was about to put the picture down when something caught his eye. He leaned in closer.

There was something about you. At first glance, it would have been clear that you were smiling for the camera but upon closer look, it looked as if you might be smiling at him instead. Your smile was softer, eyes gentler from the first time he’d seen the picture. It was the sort of smile that struck him in his heart, the kind of smile that would make its recipient feel loved, appreciated.

“I want to be a racer when I grow up.”

You turned to Jaehyun, eyes wide as saucers as you popped the ice popsicle out of your mouth.

“Why?”

He shrugged, still struggling with the wrapper of the popsicle. The two of you sat on the wooden bench, side by side as the other kids ran around the park, playing rounds of tag while their parents or babysitters sat watching over them. The sun was glaring down on the earth and though it was a great day to go out to play and sweat it out, it was also a perfect day to find an excuse to buy popsicles with what little pocket money your parents had given to you two. It wasn’t an opportunity to be missed.

“I really like racing. I don’t know if there’s anything else I’d want to be,” he said simply, grinning as he finally succeeded in breaking open the plastic.

You tried to hide the blush that was beginning to creep up to your cheeks, looking away from him.

“My mom says being a doctor is good.”

As soon as you said it, you immediately regretted your words. Jaehyun scrunched up his nose in disgust.

“No way! It’s so boring. Do you want to be a doctor?”

Quickly, you shook your head fervently. “No!”

“Then what do you want to be?” He asks curiously, sucking on his popsicle.

You are quiet for a while as you ponder over his question. What exactly do you want to be when you grow up?

“...A writer.” You said finally and he swiveled around to look at you, clearly not expecting your answer.

“A writer? Hm, why?”

“I just really like reading. I want to write interesting stories that people will like,” you take a tentative lick of your popsicle, the icy, sweet taste of apple flavouring coating your tongue, “Like fairytales!”

Jaehyun broods over your answer, seemingly deep in thought. For a moment, neither of you say another word as you sit together under the warm, sunny day, enjoying your popsicles.

“I want people to like me too.” He says suddenly, his eyes shining. “People will like my racing! I’m going to be a racer and people will like me to win!”

He hops to his feet, his popsicle raised as he made his declaration. There is a triumphant, toothy smile on his face and he says it with so much hope and gusto that you can’t help but feel drawn to his driven spirit. For a boy of five foot, there was a lot of motivation and energy in him and there was just something about him that got you transfixed.

Under the sunlight, his smile seemed almost blindingly bright with the shadows highlighting the charming dimples on those round cheeks. The butterflies in your stomach were going crazy and your heart began to pound. Your words seemed stuck in your throat and you choked out, “I t-think you’ll make a good racer, J-Jaehyun.”

You thought your heart might burst as his smile grew wider, his dimples making deeper indentations. It felt like the sun might just be a little too hot since your face felt like it was positively flaming.

“Thank you, y/n.”

Suddenly, something caught your eye and shakily, you pointed at him.

His smile dropped as his eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

“What?”

“Y-your popsicle is m-m-melting… down your a-arm.”

The elevator button made an uncharacteristic squeaking sound as Jaehyun jabbed repeatedly at it, his jaw clenched in impatience.

“Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up,” he muttered frantically under his breath, pacing the lift lobby. The red letters above the elevator were moving at a snail’s pace and it seemed as if it’s stopped to pick up some passengers on the 5th floor. How long does it take for people to move into an elevator?

Jaehyun groaned in annoyance as he watched the number on the display crawl up slowly.

This wouldn’t do. By the time it’s here, it would be too late.

Immediately, he sprinted for the stairs instead, his heart hammering against his chest.

There was great fanfare as the rowdy crowd erupted into raucous cheers, the large, industrial sized party poppers going off with a bang, covering everyone in glitter streamers and confetti. Cameras were flashing and clicking away at every corner while throngs of sports reporters flooded the holding area, all trying to reach the champions for their coveted exclusive interviews. Agents and pit crews were all celebrating with the sound of champagne bottles popping and yells and cheers of congratulations ringing through the air.

Jaehyun stood at the top of the podium, shooting the cameras his trademark stunning grin as he posed with his golden trophy that looked to be about the size of his torso. The racing suit he was wearing was uncomfortably hot and he wanted nothing more than to strip from it but the adrenaline and euphoria he was experiencing far surpassed any feelings of discomfort.

This was it, the taste of success. It was everything he lived for, raced for. This was why he always trained so hard, from dawn to dusk. This was why he put his own body through all those hours of endurance training, gym and dieting. It was all for this single moment of true bliss enjoyed and savoured after the extreme thrill of racing. Here on the podium, towering above everyone else… He was truly where he needed to be, where he was born to be.

As he stepped off and the bodyguards swarmed in to escort him to his own holding room, Jaehyun couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. Yet another trophy for display on his shelf back in his apartment. He didn’t think he’d ever get sick of it, the feeling of winning but then again who would?

Reporters were attempting to accost him at all sides, all screaming out the same old questions he had grown tired of early on.

“How do you feel after winning the prix for the third year running?”

“You hit a record timing today! How did you train for the race?”

“What do you have to say to your rival, Nakamoto who came in second this year? By a mere few seconds at that!”

Jaehyun nodded and waved at a few of them, still wearing a smile on his face but there was no answer evoked from him. He’d kept up a calm and cool demeanour throughout but once he was in his holding room alone, the moment the door closed shut behind him, he let out a loud, jubilant howl.

“Fuck yes!” He roared out in happiness before collapsing onto the couch, laughing to himself as he held his trophy above him. He badly needed a shower but he couldn’t care less, not with the trophy in his hands. Under the light, the gold shone and even as a seasoned racer, the excitement and happiness from winning never grew old. In the empty room, the victory felt even more profound, the reality of claiming the championships for yet another year sinking in.

He was in the middle of celebrating and basking in his own victory, he received a text.

Jy: how’s my man doing? congratulations on the win honey ❤️

Jae: thanks babe, it feels fucking amazing. you have no idea… also i missed you so much

Jy: we should celebrate. together, alone. tonight at my place? ;) we haven’t done it in awhile, i miss your body, your kisses

Jaehyun stared at the text. He should be happy, excited to see Jeongyeon again after so long. He had been so preoccupied with training for the big race that he’d barely had any time for her. He had missed her yet now that they were finally exchanging texts again after so long apart, he didn’t seem to feel the same anticipation.

There was something about that text she sent that seemed weirdly… detached. He had imagined their first interaction in over a month to be one that warmed him up in the inside, brought him to a whole new level of euphoria even after winning but if anything, this reality paled in comparison to the scenario he had looked forward to in his mind.

Jae: yeah sure

After pressing send, he tossed his phone onto the coffee table and rested his head against the velvety cushion of the couch. Somehow, that very short exchange with Jeongyeon had dimmed his excitement and readiness to celebrate.

His phone suddenly rang, disrupting him from the reverie he’d found himself in.

“Must be Jeongyeon,” he thought to himself and for some reasons as he swiped to answer the call, he found himself reluctant to talk.

“Hello?”

“Jung Jaehyun! I was watching your race on television, congratulations for coming in first yet again! You were terrific out there.”

Y/n.

Jaehyun smiled, feeling his heart swell at your words.

“Thanks, y/n. I really appreciate it.”

“How about we meet for dinner tonight? I know of this amazing Italian place that serves the best lasagna, your favourite! My treat too to celebrate your win, how’s that?”

At the mention of lasagna, Jaehyun could feel his stomach rumbling and his mouth watering. The tangy tomato sauce, copious amounts of cheese and spiced minced beef with soft pasta… He would absolutely be down for some well-deserved lasagna after weeks of feasting on plain, watery salads. Dinner sounded like a great idea.

“Sure, I- Wait, I can’t,” he groaned, suddenly remembering his plans with Jeongyeon. Plans he didn’t even particularly look forward to.

“Why not?” You asked.

“I um…”

Fuck, why is it so hard to say it?

“I have plans with Jeongyeon tonight,” he said, ignoring the strange pang of guilt and indignation that hit him square in the chest.

“Oh! Oh, uh… That’s completely fine. Don’t worry about it, we can always have dinner some other day.”

“Really? That would be great! How does next week sound?”

“Sounds good to me!” Even on call, he could imagine you bobbing your head enthusiastically like you usually did and that brought a chuckle out of him.

“Alright, I’ll see you then y/n.”

“See you! Please rest well, you deserve it.”

“Thank you,” he replied before hanging up.

What is this warm feeling in him?

Jaehyun raced out of the apartment complex, his eyes searching his surroundings.

The sun was glaring and he couldn’t see straight without squinting his eyes. He must have been a weird sight to behold - scruffy, pale from the lack of the outdoors and reeking of the garbage piled up in his apartment. An elderly woman walking past him tutted disapprovingly at his disheveled appearance, holding her nose as she did but Jaehyun didn’t seem to notice her. His mind was on something else, something more important.

A boy from across the street was staring at him with his mouth agape, looking like a deer caught in headlights as he shakily fumbled in his pockets for his phone. Jaehyun let his sights linger on him, wondering if he should have at least thrown on a coat but as he turned, he caught sight of a figure hanging by the bus stop, looking miserable.

He swallowed thickly, feeling the slight clench of his heart and without hesitating a single second longer, he made his way over.

The heart monitor’s methodical beating was driving him near insanity. If not that, then certainly the suffocating atmosphere of the hospital and the bandages wrapped tightly around almost every single inch of his body would. Not to mention the occasional undercover paparazzi who would try to inch their way into his ward.

Jaehyun stared up at the white ceilings, still as a plank. Every part of his body hurt to move, he couldn’t even turn his head without feeling a painful pounding in it. Sometimes, he would get dizzy spells so intense he actually felt nauseous. His appetite for food or anything in general had since plummeted. Everything, but racing.

He yearned to go out there onto the tracks, to resume his training. The Roman Prix is coming up in a month’s time and he was so far from ready. He needed to get out of this place as soon as possible, even if it meant jeopardising his own safety. His career mattered more than anything.

Jeongyeon hadn’t called either since the day he got admitted. Jaehyun had soon grown tired of checking his messages or asking his publicist for news from her, the feeling of disappointment felt deep within him. He closed his eyes, suddenly feeling a wave of fatigue wash over him.

There was a gentle knock on the door and as the door creaked slightly open, you poked your head in. Upon seeing him, you smiled softly and made your way over to him. Jaehyun watched you approach, his eyes following you.

You had brought along a basket with you, seemingly full of items. As much as he wanted to know what you’d brought, he tried not to look overeager. “I made you something special today,” you said, settling down and practically vibrating with excitement.

“What?”

“Tomato minestrone soup!” You exclaimed, uncovering the lid as the tantalising aroma of tomatoes and a medley of vegetables drifted in the air. Jaehyun almost had to restrain himself from moving, lest he shift a bone out of place somewhere.

Somehow seeing you had sparked a certain kind of joy in him. Maybe it was a sign nobody had really forgotten about him yet. He had watched his number of visitors trickle down day by day and now that it was close to a month since he’d been hospitalised, after the tragic accident, he barely got any. Perhaps three or four a week if he was lucky.

You, however, you were different. You visited him almost every other day, no matter how busy you were. You visited his bedside even if you were worn out from a long day of work, even when you had things to attend to, even when no one else bothered to. You would bring along snacks whenever you did or homemade get-well food like fish porridge or chicken noodle soup you’d whipped up yourself, though they might be far from the usual gourmet fare he was used to back when he was still active when he would go for exquisite dinner parties. Usually, you stayed for a substantial amount of time and sometimes, you even stayed the night.

Jaehyun didn’t understand why you would do all of this for a friend, a friend who never seemed to have time to spare for you at that. More than anything, the feeling of guilt in him only grew stronger with each visit yet he was grateful, extremely grateful. Your presence was like a warm ray of sunshine in this dreary hospital ward. Whenever you visited, he couldn’t help but smile even though he could not find it in himself to smile. But when it came to you, it felt natural.

“Y/n!”

At the sound of Jaehyun’s voice, you turned and even from afar, he could see your reddened eyes - a surefire sign you’d been crying. Guilt and anger washed over him in waves and he tried not to think how many times he had been the cause of your tears. If only he could turn back time, he would have shook himself for ever dismissing you so lightly like he did, before he saw the situation for what it was.

He was blinded. Blinded by his obsession for winning, fame, glory and pleasing the wrong people. In a way, it felt like a fog had been lifted before him and now that he could see, think, feel clearly… He wasn’t going to let the right person out of his grasp. The person who loved him unconditionally, not just for his fame and achievements. The person who stuck with him through thick and thin but he was just too daft to notice it. The person who always felt like home whether he knew it or not.

You.

“Jaehyun? W-What are you…” You spluttered, desperately trying to wipe your tears from your face as you stared up at him.

It took a couple of seconds for him to regain his breath, his face turning red from embarrassment and exertion. He should really start leaving those beers and junk food alone.

“I…” He panted, both out of fatigue and relief, “We need to talk.”

“Jung is getting closer, any minute now Hendery!”

“I don’t believe this! Are we looking at a potential comeback for this prix? Push, push, push!”

“It seems like we might be! Here he comes! He is absolutely mad!”

The nascars zipped along the race tracks, smoke and some bits of burnt rubber and chipped metal trailing along its wake. They were a blur of colours to the spectators, who were practically glued to their seats as they watched the race reach its climax. A massive telescreen was displaying close ups and the ranking board with huge overhead lights that illuminated the stadium. The crowd was growing wilder by the second as the racecars zoomed past them, their attention fixed on one racer in particular.

The sleek nascar was streaked in royal blue and crimson red over a metallic black base, looking almost purple and black with how fast it was flying across the tracks. The wheels were spinning so fast that the friction between the tough rubber tire and the rough granite almost lit up the tracks. It was charging forward with a steely determination and ruthlessness, closing in rapidly on a green and white nascar ahead of it.

The adrenaline coursing Jaehyun’s veins was unlike any other. The thrill he got from racing could practically send him into an all time high and a cunning grin tugged at his lips as he stepped his foot down hard on the pedal, his hands gripping tightly onto his steering wheel. Rounding around a bend, he clenched his jaw as he pushed his body weight to the left, the muscles in his abdominals and biceps flexing and straining against his racing suit as the car drifted across the tracks in a perfect arc.

“Did you see that perfectly executed drift?! Insanity!”

“Jung is absolutely on fire!”

The thunderous cheers of the crowd and the loud hum of the race cars racing across the tracks faded into the background as he kept his eyes trained steadily forward. Any time now…

“Watch out, Nakamoto,” he whispered under his breath.

Steering his wheel sharply and accelerating much to the crowd’s excitement and trepidation, his race car was now driving side by side along Yuta’s. For a split second, the two turned to look at each other through the window and even though there was no way of seeing the other’s face through that helmet, something in Jaehyun told him that his rival was angered, shocked and… Fearful.

Jaehyun grinned beneath his helmet and without a second thought, he zipped forward, leaving Yuta behind in the smoke.

“He’s going for it, he’s going for it… Wait for it… And he crosses the line! The legend has reclaimed his spot on the top!”

“And that is how you execute one of the greatest comebacks of all time, ladies and gentlemen. Jung has done what we believed to be impossible and dominated the race! I wonder how Nakamoto feels about that?”

The other commentator chuckles into his microphone.

“Well Haechan, if I were him, I’d be pissed off for sure! But I’d also be worried… So very worried.”

The crowd was absolutely wild when he’d disembarked from the car and as he removed his helmet, he was greeted with camera flashes all around him. He shook his head, running a gloved hand over his hair and he took a deep breath. The air smelled of burnt rubber, smoke and… Success.

He had done it. He had made his comeback.

His pit crew made a beeline for him, slapping him on the back, their faces jubilant and lit with pure joy. His new manager, one that he trusted and helped him inch his way back to the top step by step, shot him a thumbs up which he nodded in acknowledgement as the crowd of sports journalists, reporters and photographers began to swarm in on him.

Yet, he paid them no attention. If this was three years ago, he would have basked in the glory, the attention but now he had greater concerns on his mind. His heart was pounding now for a different reason altogether and he could feel his hands growing clammy.

Jaehyun craned his neck and searched the rowdy media crowd. Where were you?

“Jaehyun!”

At your voice, he turned and immediately almost stumbled backwards as you crashed into him for a hug. The feelings of you against him sparked a joy in his heart, a joy almost greater than winning. He enveloped you in a hug, holding your waist as he nuzzled his face into your hair. Your scent of honey and jasmine was intoxicating, alluring and a welcomed change from the smell of smoke and rubble.

The two of you had been dating for about two years now, each day together better than the previous. After he’d caught up with you that day, it was as if you were seeing a different Jaehyun from the one you’d seen in his apartment. That Jaehyun who had caught up with you at the bus stop was the old Jaehyun you’d missed and it was as if a switch somewhere had been flipped. To this day, he had never admitted what changed while you were gone for those few minutes. He had subsequently apologised for everything he’d done, even things you didn’t see a problem with. It was shocking to say the least to see the unapologetic Jaehyun apologise for anything at all, but not more shocking than what entailed a few days later.

It started with a vase of luscious red roses being sent to your workplace followed by an invitation for dinner. Before you knew it, the boy you’d loved almost all your life was courting you with a passion. It felt like a complete dream, so much so you had been afraid to wake up suddenly and realise it was all just your imagination. He’d been more of a romantic than he’d let on and many times, you had found yourself completely smitten by his stunts that stretched from learning how to make homemade chocolates for you on Valentine’s Day knowing that you liked them, even though he was well known as a terrible cook to sending flowers up to your doorstep every other week.

Within a couple of months, the two of you were dating and deeply, wildly in love.

Amidst date nights filled with laughter and kisses, he had also been steadily climbing his way back up the ranks of the racing world. After ditching his unhealthy lifestyle he had been living for the past year, the change was apparent. He’d started hitting the gym, eating healthier and before long, he was in prime condition to start racing again. Training was long and tough but he never did give up. He was more determined and driven than you’d seen him and though the old Jaehyun would have been gutted at a loss, this new, better version of him never fussed over a loss of any kind, instead learning from his mistakes.

All of his efforts had led to this ultimate moment, the taste of victory on his lips.

You noticed he had been shifting uncomfortably and you looked up, puzzled and concerned.

“Jaehyun? You okay?”

He looked at you, his ears red, a sign that he was anxious, nervous.

“Jaehyun? What-”

Your words got stuck in your throat as he knelt down on one knee, the lights overhead bringing out the sparkle in his eyes and the shine in his hair. Those dark orbs were so full of hope, anxiety and love all intermingled in one and you found it difficult to believe that those eyes were looking at you directly, the emotions in them all for you.

Jaehyun withdrew a tiny, velvet box from his pocket and popped it open. In the box, was a tiny diamond ring, glittering and absolutely regal. The diamond itself was beautifully cut and interwoven into the metal band with microfibres of white gold and it simply shone as the camera flashes went off. The crowd was going bonkers, screaming and cheering with wolf whistles.

“Y/n,” he spoke softly, his voice gentle. “You have always been there for me, always been my better half. We have been friends for over a decade and lovers for merely two but it seemed as if we always were meant for each other. It took me so long to realise that and there is not a day I don’t regret not realising it sooner. You are my everything - my past, present and future. Falling in love with you was gradual, unconscious. I guess my heart knew you the one before I even did. It started with me being in a dark, dark place where I drowned in my own self-hatred and insecurities. I was beaten, defeated and I just gave up. Where everyone did the same, you never did. You were like a beam of shining light, shining upon me and guiding me even if I didn’t notice it at the time. But when I did, you glowed even more brightly than I’d envisioned. I’d been oblivious to your beauty both inside and outside for far too long and god knows how much I fucking regret it. I’m different now though, because of you. I am the best version of myself right now because I have you in my life. You taught me how to love, allow myself to be loved. There’s no universe whereby I’d want to be without you. I can’t see myself without you in my life. I need you, I love you.”

Tears were beginning to stream down your face and the stadium had grown quieter, all tuning into what was happening.

Jaehyun looked up at you, hopeful and so full of love that you thought your heart might burst.

“So I guess what I’m saying is, will you marry me, y/n?” He asked breathlessly.

[verse50]

Heat

It was the first weekend over 80F and we took full advantage of it on our six acres. Friday night we let the kids loose on the rock pile, loading up the trailer for the dump, then packed them off early Saturday for soccer camp. All morning he bush-hogged the treeline while I wrestled the sunken raised beds into shape. This house had been so neglected when we bought it two years ago. Finally we had the time and money to make it nice again.

I was pulling weeds when he tromped out in chaps and ear protection. Chainsaw hanging from his belt. That and the sweaty dirt on his face made me look a bit longer.

“I’m gonna saw up that alder and then get to the stairs,” he half shouted. Bush hogging will do that to you. He grinned and took out his ear plugs. “The beds are coming along, maybe-” I was on my knees and gazed up at him quizzically.

“You’re not wearing a bra,” he said, at the perfect angle to peer down my shirt.

“Nope!” I agreed, and swung myself back and forth. It looked and felt like two water balloons bumping in a pillowcase. Then stuck out my tongue.

His mouth set. “I gotta get the stairs done today.” Then he was gone into the brush, chainsaw revving. I bent down again to the weeds, trying to drown my frustration with deep breaths. 

He was so hard to read. I was a free spirit, a spitfire, and he was a calm, methodical engineer with a heart of gold. There was no better man on the planet, I was convinced, but gosh sex was tough with him! It took him so long to adjust to change. A toe ring. The tiniest gold nose ring. A tattoo on my ankle. Introducing him to my vibrator. I had to pace everything at six month intervals or it was too much.

 But once he got used to it...holy fucking shit. He basically dissected that vibrator and and studied the user manual. Found similar ones, tested them on me like I was a guinea pig. Even took me to a toy store in Dallas then fucked the daylights out of me until 3am. And then...it all petered out like a spent firework. I would try to keep the energy going, keep him interested, but I could never tell what worked. He was pretty shy about sex, almost embarrassed. He wasn’t comfortable with dirty talk. We couldn’t really sext because his job required cellphones be lockered except at lunch. We could go months on once a week then he would surprise me with a two day fuckfest, like a volcano erupting. I lived for those times but could never figure out how to make them happen more often. All it did was make me ramp up with excitement, feel more free, then try to cram myself in a box again. He was such a good man, though. I just needed to be more patient, less wild. I ripped up the weeds angrily.

The sun was high when he came in for lunch. I had sandwiches, chips, and his favorite tea ready. There was even more dirt on his face and I sat there awkwardly, trying to equate my silent chip-crunching husband with the dirty woodsman I wanted to pounce on.

“I think I’ll build out the landing a bit from the stairs, maybe put in a new handrail,” he said. I sipped my tea and nodded. “The driveway could use some gravel.”

“The trailer has all the rocks in it still,” I pointed out.

“Mmm. I’ll go to the dump first, then hit Home Depot and Brother’s Fieldstone.” He looked at me as if I had just appeared at the table. “You’re wearing a bra now.”

“Uh-huh.” I cut off a smart-ass retort and became very busy fishing pickles from their jar. “I’m gonna work on the petunia baskets.”

After the peck on my cheek he would be gone for at least two hours. I ripped off my bra, blasted Slayer on my bluetooth speaker, and delved into the hanging baskets. By the time I had repotted everything and cleaned up the cobwebby  lounge chairs I was a filthy mess. Shower time.

You couldn’t see our house from the road. I went out on the deck in just a towel, then threw it off and lay naked on a chair, basking like a lizard. Big fluffy clouds blocked the sun momentarily, then shooed away when I spread my legs wide. Everything needed to dry. My hair would need a serious flatiron session. Idly I thought of him coming out of the forest...rushing home...making a beeline for me...a naked woman tanning herself alone...so easy to take advantage...helpless...but there was a shotgun behind the door...

Damn it, I thought. Can’t even have a fantasy and it gets all practical. He’s wearing off on me. I looked at my phone. About 30 minutes of naked freedom left- I should water the baskets again. I picked up the hose and my phone rang.

“Hey baby,” I said, working up the cheerful wife tone. He really was wonderful. I just needed to...not need so much.

“Baby, guess how much the lumber cost for the deck, right now?”

I thought for a minute. It has been awhile since we did a major project. “Um, I think we did the brown house for under $600?”

“Yeah, well, I priced it all out. It’s gonna be over $2000! We can’t swing that now. It’s insane, the prices. Never seen anything like it. And Brother’s is out of pea gravel!” He was worked up. This man stuck to budgets religiously.

“O my God! No, you’re right. We can’t do that now. The deck will be fine for awhile, definitely. It’s sturdy at least.” The sun was so hot on my back. I stared at my shadow, waving the limp hose to and fro.

“So I emptied the trailer and uh, checked everything out. Since we can’t do anything more on that today I, um....” he coughed. I waited, cautiously easing on the water. “I went to that new little toy store in the strip mall.”

Water spurted out onto my shadow. “I see. What kind of toys?”

“The only kind!” His voice rose. The hose engorged and gurgled. “I found one like your pink one, you know that does the swirly thing, too? But this seems to be a softer material, a better grade of silicone, I think this company merged with a big distributor and, uh...”

My mouth twisted. It was just like him to get carried away on technical aspects. “That’s so sweet, baby. What are you wanting to do with that?”

“I want to use it on you.” He was almost whispering, as if there were seven other people in his F-250. “Like Dallas.” It was such a distant memory. I couldn’t work myself all up again, it was too exhausting. But he went to the store, my dear husband...he wants something.

“You can do whatever you want to me, baby,” I said sincerely. “Just come home and we can hang out the rest of the day.”

“I don’t want to hang out. I want- I want you to not wear a bra again. I don’t want you to feel, uh, like you have to put it back on? Around me?”

I aimed the water where my shadow’s pussy would be. Cool drops sprayed up onto my flushed skin.

“I’m not wearing a bra right now.”

“What?”

“I’m naked out on the deck. Been tanning after I took a shower.”

Silence. He was gunning the truck, I could hear the roar.

“I hope you’re bringing some wood home for me.” VVVBBBBRBbbbbRRRRrr.

“Baby, if you can just let me plan stuff. It’s easier for me. I’m sorry I’m slow and I disappoint you. I wanted to tear your shirt off there but I’m just never sure...I don’t want to do anything you don’t like, I don’t want to hurt you- really- just let me plan sometimes and maybe try to go along? I promise I’ll do better, you are so sexy-” sfhkhfffffppp. His phone cut out. I stood there, dumb, watching the water drip my shadow off the edge of the deck. He had never talked to me so much at one time. “-if I can plan and know in advance that you like it we can do more, you drive me crazy you know that, right?”

I took a deep breath. My legs were shaking into the damp, hot wood. “How do you want me to be, when you get home?”

Pause. More gunning. “On the deck chair, doggy. Ass in the air. Wait- I need to shower first.”

“No, you don’t. You’re sexy with the dirt on you. I love it.”

“You do?”

“Yes, I love my sexy, dirty husband.”

“Ok.” He was firm. The blinker was on, he was at the intersection ten minutes away. “Ass up, doggy. Hands by your side. Face turned away from the stairs. I don’t want you to see me. I have-have- a special delivery.”

I turned off the water. The whole deck was soaked. Not one basket had gotten a drop. “Ass up ready to receive. I’ll be waiting for you, baby.” I was so excited my words came out slowly, bouncing through a lump in my throat. The sun was cold and hot at the same time.

“If you respond well there will be future appointments.” His voice was full of confidence before the phone shut off.

I almost tripped on my way over to the lounge chair. Fortunately my towel was there in case things got really wet.

Thank you to @daily-esprit-descalier for sharing the photo that inspired this story.

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[bonniebird]

Hi !

A Reggie Mantle x reader x Sweet Pea (like a competition between the 2 of them to get reader's attention)

Where reader moves to Riverdale and Reggie is forced (like a punishment) to give her the school tour. She then tries to befriend him because he's the only one she knows at school but she's too nerdy/shy for Reggie's tastes so he kind of keeps some distance between them (in some subtle ways, he still keeps his eyes on her and help her when she needs it).

Then Southside high and Riverdale high merge. And for some reasons reader seems to grows closer to Serpents and Sweet Pea. So Reggie becomes a bit protective/jealous about it (you are like his protégé and he lowkey likes reader without admitting it). Tries to warn Sweet Pea to leave her alone. And that triggers Sweet Pea to just interact with reader more and more because he likes her and now there's some competition. (Silly boys).

Thanks! (Sorry for bad English)

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