#they have a little soundproofed room to go when someone gets overwhelmed in anyway

[karmicpunishment]

atsushi 🤝 poe

sensory overload

[neovisioned]

♡ꜜ eddie ate dynamite﹫johnny suh

fangs - matt champion PLAYLIST

pairing : johnny x reader (f), feat. ten as johnny’s best friend and roommate and jaehyun as your college friend. 

genre : fluff, another case of smut with too much plot, pianist!johnny, guitarist!reader, college!au, neighbour!au, strangers to friends to lovers, warnings : ten being a cockblock, it’s overall really cute. heavy making out, grinding, marking, slight choking, slight thigh riding, mutual masturbation, slight panty kink and menhandling, oral, penetration. word count : +22k synopsis : where you never really tried to make friends with your neighbours. after all, most of them – if not all – are families that would not have much time to talk to a college student. you don’t mind, you’d rather spend some time with your guitar. but your new young neighbour doesn’t seem as anti-social as you are, it’s eleven past meridiem when someone airdrops a tab sheet on your computer, you play it. a/n : i got this idea while i was showering just after i ordered my electric guitar, i also felt like shit so figured writing about my ult would cheer me up.

Calm and clean streets, pretty cherry trees dotted in red, small park filled with multicolor flowers, you remember the day you moved in your neighborhood like it was yesterday. You don’t say it much, but you love everything about your district. Yes, it might be mostly – if not totally – filled with small families and couples in their thirties, and they usually don’t have much to tell you, you still love the tranquility.

No college students being obnoxiously loud, no parties every week, no gatherings of wannabe frats.

You have to say, you got lucky. The small – but convenient and comfortable – apartment you’re ranting is what you could call a “perle rare”, a gem.

After searching and searching for anything that could fit a college student and it’s budget, you found this very building, freshly built. Only fifteen minutes away from the city center, exactly seventeen minutes away from your university, you couldn’t really believe your eyes, you even thought it was a scam at first. A more than decently sized apartment at the second to last floor, elevators, almost soundproof walls, balcony, big windows facing south, you couldn’t ask for more.

Even better, the owner was a family friend, a deal that made everyone happy was quickly made and, a few days after your twenty-first birthday, you moved in.

It was a bit more than a year ago and you have to say, you quickly made yourself at home, you didn’t mind leaving alone either. Besides, you had friends over a few times a month, and your family didn’t hesitate to visit without any notice.

Ah, and, a few days after moving in, you found this very cute and cosy coffee shop down the street. Oh, how you got addicted to their éclair au chocolat and their croissant. You’re a regular there, now, and the short brunette girl at the register still makes fun of you for your pronunciation. They also make a pretty good iced vanilla coffee, one you’re drinking this very moment, hands turning cold over the transparent plastic.

“Y/N, hey ! I have something for you !”, a voice you quickly grew familiar to sings the moment your badge opens the front door to your building. Sun Sangkyu, building H7’s concierge, doesn’t even wait for the glass door to close behind you to stand up from his chair, searching for the said “something”.

He’s a balding man, you’d say he’s around sixty-something years old. He agreed to work at the desk for good money despite his age, you remember him saying he loves it, it distracts him for the day while his wife volunteers with kids in a less wealthy area. Sangkyu wears big glasses that often fall down the bridge of his nose, eyes half moons whenever he smiles with his little diastema.

“Ah-a, I know what it is !”, you match his tone almost perfectly, a smile stretching your lips. Walking a bit closer to the men’s cubicle, one he customized so much it contrasts with the minimalist style of the entrance.

Red banner for the Chinese New Year, you’re surprised he did not take it down sooner. Next to it, he has multiple drawings from the kids in the building, pictures of him, his wife and kids.

“There it is. Such a tiny box, what did you order ?”, he asks, and the middle aged men doesn’t hesitate to shake the box a little, bringing it to his ear. He’s a bit too curious for his own good, but you don’t mind, it’s funny.

“Guitar picks.”, you tell him with a laugh once he lets the cardboard box fall into your waiting hands.

At that, he frowns.

Small pout on his thin lips, his dark brown eyes shift to the left as he tried and search in his memory.

“But…What about the ones you brought last winter ?”, he asks carefully, almost like he’s scared of not recalling things well. But, after all, you were the only guitarist in the building.

“I…lost them…”, you answer after a few seconds of silence, like a child admitting they misplaced something to their father.

“Ya…”, his instinct kick in with the noise escaping his face, slightly rolling his eyes, drawing out the last letter. “Anyways, I have something else for you.”, he looks at something on the floor, probably where he left his leather bag.

“But, I didn’t or-.”

“My wife made some yesterday !”, he cuts you abruptly, wide toothy smile as he slides a paper bag. And, oh, you already know what they hold by the smell alone. Baozi, steamed stuffed buns Sangkyu’s wife can make like a real master, your mouth salivates with the thought alone.

“Oh, bless her.”, a sigh tumbles from your lips, clenching the small bag against your chest. As you open your mouth to thank him, the slight buzz of the door opening catches your attention. You notice a rather tall men pushing the door with his back, strong arms holding boxes.

“Thank you very much, Sangkyu. Have a nice day !” You conclude with a smile, nodding as the oldest returns the gesture, face already towards the unknown men.

You don’t pay much attention, quickly walking towards the elevator with your two precious items in hand. Your index taps the code and your floor number like a mechanism and, just before the metallic doors close, you catch the unknown men sighing, ��One more box and we’re done, Mister Suh !” Ehm, the apartment on the second floor probably found a new owner, you think at first, the thought brushed away in a second.

The ride to your floor is a quick one, your full attention on the small box in your hand, one you’re trying to open as best as you can. But you quickly find hard to rip the thick duct tape with your left hand occupied with the wrapped food.

“Oh, fuck !”

What was meant to happen, happened. As the feminine yet weirdly robotic voice announces your floor with a “Floor number nine, floor number nine.”, you drop the small box. The cardboard hits the floor with a small sound, laying lifeless a few centimeters away from your shoes. Great, that will teach you. Leaning down, you pick the box up with a sigh, straightening your back as the grey metallic doors open in front of you, left wrist twisting to let your digits wrap around your keys. And it’s your turn to frown. Eyebrows furrowed, you take a step forward, taking your body out of the elevator before the doors close and head down again.

Boxes, boxes everywhere. Your door’s on the left, body naturally facing your apartment but your eyes can not help but look at the overwhelming amount of…stuff laying there. Probably a dozen cardboard boxes in the hallway, the door’s open to the empty apartment if it’s not for all the wrapped furniture in the entrance. Uh, so it’s not the second floor. You have to say, you’re a bit surprised. When you moved in, you remember this very apartment being owned by a middle-aged woman, the fake blonde told you about the three other places she owned and ranted all year around. Be it to travelers, students, young adults. Someone ranted it for two months at best, before moving out, you don’t even remember their faces, to be honest. You never asked why it was always empty, you just figured the area was more appealing to families that would rather buy their own place rather than rant it for god knows how much.

Well, seems like you have a new neighbor. Maybe, just maybe, you’ll introduce yourself later, once they’ll be done with moving in. Let’s be real, you’re not Bree Van de Kamp from Desperate Housewives but, you were well raised. Ah, and, you should probably tell them about your habit of playing the guitar a bit too late at night, you think as you finally take your attention off the open apartment and go for your own. Everything might be pretty well isolated, you don’t want to risk starting beef with people you barely know leaving right next to you.

Plus, who knows, maybe they’re nice.

Knife stabs the duct tape, the brown layer easily ripping under the sharp object. Comfortably sat on your bed, you quickly tear the cardboard with your hands, leaving the packaging on the floor of your bedroom, neatly leaving the small bag of picks you ordered on your white sheet.

It’s around ten and a half post meridiem when you finally get around opening your order. College life is one you knew would be busy, but seventeen years old you never knew you’d spend hours on an essay’s introduction. But thank god, you finished a good chunk of your assignment, showered, ate and now, it’s time for a bit of relaxation.

It’s sort of a ritual for you, a way to reward yourself after a productive day. You take a long shower or a good bath – it depends on the bath bombs you have in stock –, you eat a good, hot meal and get to your room for some alone time with none other than your beloved guitar.

The sun’s already set, the streets’ lights filling your bedroom. And, that’s when you notice the dim light coming from the room right on front of you. The layout of every apartment being identical, you know it’s another bedroom, few meters away from your own. It’s a bad habit you developed after your old neighbor left, you’d pull your curtains to the side and eventually took them out, they clashed with your room’s aesthetic anyways. After all, if no one was leaving there, you would let your window wide open for a bit more light.

You figure you should maybe go and find where you stacked them and get ready to struggle for an hour before eventually, putting them up again. But for now, you don’t mind, if your new neighbor actually pulls his curtains to look outside, all they will be able to see’s your light purple colored walls, paintings and pictures, your overly packed schedule stuck right on top of your desk.

You don’t let your mind wonder too much, after quickly opening the thin packaging, you let the small plastic picks fall on your bed. Medium sized, you choose the color you like the best, abstract design in red, black and white. Now that you think about it, you really don’t know where the six other ones disappeared, you even used to keep the last one in your phone case.

Digits wrap around the slender neck of your electric guitar, picking it up from the stand it rested on for a few days now, instrument easily finding its place on your lap. Ah, how you love the feeling of the smooth material under your fingertips, left hand on the body to keep it from falling as you lean forward. The Jack cable you left laying there a few days ago moved a bit, hiding under your bed but you’re quick to grab it, plugging it where it belongs. A flick of the wrist, you turn on your amplifier, turning a few settings. Now that you have neighbors, maybe you should turn the volume a bit down. Until now, you could play as loudly as you wanted thank to the building’s isolation and a few other…reasons. The men living right above you was a bit older than Sangkyu, and he had a few hearing problems, plus he didn’t mind the music at all even if he heard it a bit, when your window was opened. The women leaving right under you is in her mid-thirties, a nurse that had a working schedule you cannot wrap your head around. One thing you know, she’s never there from nine post meridiem to some ungodly hour in the morning.

You’ll talk to your new neighbors tomorrow anyways, brushing the thought off as you place the strap on your shoulder.

“Eddie ate dynamite.”, you mumble under your breath, pick plucking at the three top strings. In tune, great. “Good bye Eddie.”, the three last strings are slightly out of tune, but your quickly arrange that with a few twists. Right hand flat on the six strings, you stand up from your bed, walking to your desk with a few steps. You had left a tab sheet open on your devise before going for your bath, screen lighting up as you open it. It’s a song you practiced once a few weeks back before forgetting about it. Bold, black letters, “Fangs – Matt Champion”.

Eyes scanning the numbers, your fingers quickly find the strings without you needing to even look at your guitar’s neck. Your body follows quickly, shoulders and head moving at the rhythm, it’s a chill tune you can warm your fingers up to. It’s a moment you adore, when your entire building’s silent, fresh breeze of the early summer sneaking into your room, multicolor lights flashing in your bedroom (tiktok made you buy them). Tones and sounds of stings being pulled fill your room, it’s no hard for you to remember the notes at the end, eyes closing as you finish the song.

A good song to start on, you think before opening your eyes and…?

“What’s that ?”, you ask out loud, eyes squinting at the window that opened itself on your screen. Apparently, someone’s trying to airdrop something. It’s probably a mistake, you think at first. A weird mistake, for sure, your laptop clearly had your name on it. Your index finger’s about to decline the request before you take a look at the actual picture sent. Is that…A tab sheet ? Your eyebrows furrow a bit more. Clearly, this was not a mistake. Eye travel to the window, could it be ? Your neighbor’s room is now lit up, but you can’t make anything up in it, unconsciously waiting for a head to pop-up. But hélas, no movement comes from the other side. It could come from anyone, but you doubt

“The Less I know The Better – Tame Impala”.

Ah, you’re not a stranger to the song, you have it in multiple playlists, but you never took the time to look at the tabs. At least the person has some good taste. It’s a weird situation for sure, is this…a request ?

Unconsciously, your fingertips press on the right strings. Eh, might as well try it, right ? Tune familiar, you go through the intro easily, though maybe you should’ve taken something to loop the sound. Irises focused on your screen, you try your best not to mess up, eyes sometimes traveling from your computer to the neck of your guitar. Brown polished wood glow under the purple light, it softly transitions to blue, green, and you stop after the chorus.

Maybe you’ll keep the sheet.

Cold morning breeze, sounds of a city waking up. Birds singing a bit too loudly, a few cars driving by, chatter from families and young adults all around, voices muted by how high you’re apartment is.

You follow along, body turning in your bed, though maybe in a less graceful way, softly shaking the sleep out.

You changed your sheet right before going to sleep, after playing a few other songs, flowery fragrance comforting, nose deep into the soft fabric. You almost think about not leaving your bed but hélas, you have some classes to attend today.

At least, they’re starting a bit late. Sleepy eyes shift to your clock, the very one that woke you up, nine ante meridiem, you have an hour to get ready, that should be enough.

Another bad habit, your hand grabs your phone as you roll over to your side, cheek squished on your pillow, one eye closed. Maybe you should not do that, apparently the second eye's vision can and will go down if you do this too much. You have an appointment soon anyways, working on your computer all day long got your eyes dry.

Checking mails, social media, texts, you tour your phone before finally stepping out of bed.

Music theory class, multiple hours of it. But, at least, it didn’t end late at all, today was your only free day. But again, depends on what is your vision of freedom, you'll probably end up at the bakery slash coffee shop down the street to study a bit more.

Arms stretching above your head, your lips part in a yawn you quickly hide behind your hand. Fuck, you probably slept on your arm, shoulder aching under your fingertips massaging the muscle.

Walking around your bed, you take a few steps, dragging your feet on your floor towards your window. You needed a bit of fresh air before anything else.

The weather's pretty good today, you note as you fully step in front of your window, skin gratefully taking in the sunlight, a few white clouds here and there in the sky but nothing to complain about. The sun seems to already be heating the air up, maybe you can go for a light coat today, or a thick top alone.

Naturally, your eyes fall straight forward, to the very window you were looking at the night before.

Curtains pulled to the side, your curiosity gets poked, maybe you can have a quick look at the room, right ?

It looks empty anyways, you think at first, but it seems the universe wants to annoy you a bit today. Just as you're about to detail the room opposite to yours, a figure walks in.

His shadow is the first thing you see, stretching on the beige painted walls of the room before he eventually steps in front of his window as well.

Fortunately for your dignity, the men has his back turned but how... Broad do they look, even from a distance.

You have no idea why, but you're stuck there, one side of your brain telling you to leave before you get caught and inevitably get label as the creepy neighbor while the other whispers that you might want to see the strangers' face.

Shoulder blades move against the tanned skin, hands quickly run in his honey colored locks, pushing them back, it seems your neighbor's getting ready too.

That's when you realize your hand's still gripping your window's handle, right hand falling to your side, you really should go and get ready too but... You wonder, is he the one that sent you the tab sheet yesterday ? Wouldn't you want to put a face a the music taste ?

As you're about to take a step back, the men turns slightly, applying what you can only assume is cream to his face, digits running down his jawline as he angles his head as desired. And oh, the one second long glimpse you get at his profile is enough to make your lips part.

Shiny locks falling in front of his eyes, straight nose, full lips, sharp jawline, a curse almost falls down from your lips. You'd think anyone would find the guy attractive from the small peak you just got but... Isn't this a bit... Weird ? You suddenly feel like a whole voyeur, your eyes detaching from the stranger as your morals kick in.

He doesn't look like a father, or maybe he's very young father ? But again, you didn't see anything for a baby yesterday, nor did you hear one crying yesterday night...

Maybe he moved in here with his significant other, even though young couple usually go for the other side of the city.

Or maybe, he's a college student like you are, does he have a roommate ?

Pupils traveling up again to the window, you're about to get on your toes for a better look. Maybe you should say introduce yourself tonight, rather than guessing and throwing hypothesis out there. And maybe, just maybe, you want to get a better look at his face.

He turns around, you duck to the side.

It’s around six after meridiem when you finally, finally get up from the sit you occupied for several hours now. Maybe you should’ve taken a break between two massive paragraphs to write, you think as your arms stretch up above your head. Thank god, the beloved coffee you decided to drop your bag in had some comfortable light beige chairs, cushion as still cloud-like, exactly like you found them the first day you entered the shop.

You wonder how they keep them so clean, someone must’ve dropped their dark coffee or chocolate on the unforgiving fabric at least once, you surely fear being one of these clients.

“You done ?”, familiar voice hums, and you just nod at the question, eyes falling on the black clock right behind the counter.

“Yeah, I can’t think anymore.”, you tell your friend, hand grabbing the second cup of coffee you brough, shaking it lightly to estimate the amount of liquid left. Jaehyun, maybe your closest friend in your university, pouts at that. Dirty blonde hair fall in front of his eyes as he grounds, before he lets his forward press against his computer’s touchpad. The poor guy had been struggling for an hour now, the rhythm of his fingers tapping on his keyboard gradually loosing speed. You have to say, you were in the same situation, writing and rewriting the same sentences again, brain refusing to cooperate after already vomiting out a few large paragraphs. But, unlike your friend, you decided to stop there for the day, you still had a full week to finish it anyways.  

“I can’t do this anymore.”, the Korean grounds again, dramatic nature kicking in as his head snaps back, rolling backwards, the men cannot go a day without faking death.

“Save it, we still have a week to do it.”, you sigh out, but you don’t hide the smile growing on your face at his antics. Though, you don’t wait for his answer, saving your own file before closing your laptop.

“Six days. Six.”, he corrects, like a day changes anything anyways. See, Jaehyun needs to turn his paper in a single day before yours, since he had chosen to attend the very class twenty-four hours before you. Rolling your eyes, you know the men cannot read your facial expressions, bag turned as you drop all your belongings into your bag.

“You gonna stay ?”, you simply ask, there’s no need for you to point out the slight difference in days. Jaehyun nods fingers running on his touch pad as he zooms out his Word Documents, eyes scanning over his six pages for any underlined errors. “Well, good luck. I didn’t finish this, want it ?”, you ask, eyebrows slightly raised as you push the still fresh iced coffee towards your friend, who doesn’t need more, lips wrapping around the straw.

“Text me when you’re home.”, Jaehyun mumbles, mouth filled with tiny ice pieces, pieces he quickly swallows. “Don’t work too late, text me too.”, you finish it like you too usually do, quickly waving before you walk out of view.

“Are you done, Y/N ?”, another familiar voice calls you out, one you know pretty well by now. See, the coffee shop is getting more and more exposure as days go by, but it does not meet the owner and workers will forget about the regulars, like you. “For the day, yeah. Still have a few things to write but I should be done tomorrow or the day after.” You smile at the brunette, Hana, coffee “Flâner”’s cashier. As said, she’s a brunette with the longest locks you’ve ever seen. Or maybe she has black hair, you think it depends on the lighting. Anyways, she’s been there since the opening, working 4 days a week, greeting costumers with a smile and a light French accent whenever she spoke, thought you remember her saying she was born somewhere else.

“Ah, I hope you’ll have a good grade !”, she says cheerfully, black irises leaving your form as she places some cakes into their signature black box. “Is…Jaehyun staying ?”, the smallest asks, even behind the counter, you can’t help but notice her small, petite figure. It’s like she doesn’t dare to look at you, and a small smile stretches your lips. Oh…She doesn’t hide her crush very well. You wonder, is Jaehyun staying late for another reason as well ?

“Ah, yeah. He’s proofreading what he wrote today.”, you explain, fainting obliviousness.

“Oh, alright !”, she responds with a smile, eyes flickering from your figure to the your friend’s. You’re about to leave, let them somewhat alone if you forget about the three other costumers drinking their tea, when your eyes fall the small cakes she’s arranging behind the glass. And god, how they look tasty. You guess they’re make of a chocolate mousse, a shortbread at the bottom, your mouth salivates. As said, you’re not the Bree Van de Kamp of your building but, if you’re going to greet your new neighbors today, shouldn’t you bring something ? And no, you’re definitely not doing this because of what happened this morning, no way.

“What are these ?”, you ask, taking a step closer.

“Un royal !”, she answers in French, your eyes squint as you try to say it back. How the fuck does she do that -r sound.

“Can I have two of them ? And a croissant, please.”, you order, hand already fishing for your phone. God, this shop will make you go bankrupt, they will also make you addicted to their food, if you’re not already.

“Sure, ma’am !”, the young girl answers, before she grabs yet another black box. Fingers push the cardboard until it takes the shape desired, iron tool dropping the cakes into it. You’ve done this so many times, it’s ironic. Right hand grabs the box, left hand turning your phone screen towards the young girl so she can scan the code.

“Thank you, good bye !”

“See you soon, Y/N !”

The glass door is pushed with a shoulder, smile stretching your painted lips when you give another look inside the shop, catching Jaehyun walking up to the counter. “Buying three coffees isn’t a way to flirt, Jaehyun.”, you laugh to yourself before leaving.

It looks like the sun is about to set, sunlight a lot less aggressive compared to the beginning of the afternoon. Cakes in hand, the walk to your building is a short one, though you come across the Hwang family from the fourth floor going to the park, greeting the mother with a smile, waving lightly at the twins she’s holding hands with. Ah, you really do love this area, you think as you walk along the park’s barrier, catching a few giggles and screams from young kids. And, from the sound of it, they started opening the water in the fountains.

“Cakes again !”, Sangkyu might be on the older side, he still has some sharp eyes, you note. The door closes behind you with a small noise, the lock activating itself. “Yes, cakes again.”, you say, shooting him a fake-ly offended glare, left hand to your chest. “But these aren’t for me, they’re for the new neighbor.”, you point out, walk slowing down in front of the men’s cubicle.

“Ah ! Mister Suh and…”, his face contours as he tries his best to recollect the second name. Oh, maybe it was a couple, good thing you got two cakes, even though you got one for yourself… “Right ! His roommate, Mister Leechayapornkul !”, his features light up with a smile as he correctly – you assume – recollects the second name. Ah, a roommate, you think, interesting. “Oh, I didn’t know they were two. I’m going to introduce myself now.”, you tell him with a smile.

“Ah, by the way, have you heard ? Miss and Mister Jeon want to organize something for the building’s anniversary, I’ll keep you up to date !”

On that, you leave the old men with a smile, quickly strolling to the elevator. The metal cubicle stops at the third floor, a young girl you don’t really know polite greets you before pushing the fifth button floor, she’s probably friends with the kids on that floor.

“Floor number nine, floor number nine.”, the metal doors open on your small hallway, and for the first time, you walk towards the right door. Deep, dark green color like yours, your shoes barely make a noise on the light beige carpet as they lead you to your neighbors’ place. You stay there for a second, mind questioning the dumbest things, should you wait a bit ? How many times should you knock…? Raising your fist up, the first joints of pointer and middle finger tap a few times on the dark wood. One, two, three. You wait.

Though, everything seems silent, if it’s not for the small noise of the elevator going up and down. Are they…Not there ? A small pout on your lips, you shift on your feet, both hands grabbing onto the black box. The apartment was silent, you guessed your new neighbors were not there, your luck.

From : Jaehyun, 8:37 pm. : “im home !!” : “ended up proofreading and wrote the second to last part” The well familiar name flashes on your phone, alongside a picture you took when you visited his family on the country side. Jaehyun’s rather tall body’s folded as he tries to ride on a small tricycle, legs so long his knees are above the handlebars. Quickly, your thumbs tap on the small keyboard as you walk toward your room.

After entering your bedroom, you decided to eat a bit earlier, taking a shower before going back to your guitar. The shower was a cold one, if the sun had already set, the air was dense, heavy. Moments after stepping out of your shower, a thin layer of sweat managed to gather around your hairline. It’s like the weather suddenly switched to the middle of summer, and you definitely were not ready for it.

To : Jaehyun, 8:38 pm. : “is it because of the third coffee you bought :D ?”

To : Jaehyun, 8:40 pm. : “…i do not know what youre talking about .” To : Jaehyun, 8:40 pm. : “when are you gonna ask her ?”

You send the message before locking your phone, throwing the devise on your bed. You’re quick to set up your guitar, since you left you amp’ plugged in yesterday. Right index flicks the switch up, before you plug the Jack cable in. However, as you’re about to flop on your bed again, you notice the screen of your phone lightening up as your college friend calls you.

“How did you know ?”, it the first think he asks, tone whiny, the second you accept the call and press the speaker button. “It is very much obvious, Jaehyun.”, you laugh out, left hand finding its place around the neck of your black and white guitar as you bring it on your lap.

“Do you she’s int-.”, Jaehyun starts as you play out a few random chords, thumb stroking the six strings ever so softly. “Yes.”, you cut him before he even manages to finish his sentence. “She’s into you. I thought you knew.”

“I, uh, I wasn’t sure.”, he mumbles, and you hear his fork pick whatever his eating. After hanging out around the male for some years now, you figured your good friend was a bit clueless when it came to his looks and charms. Yes, Jaehyun knows that’s he’s handsome, you don’t miss the opportunity to remind him whenever he gets dressed up or send you a selfie, as a good and supportive friend.

But, Jaehyun doesn’t really weight the affect he has on girls, guys, and everyone in between. You remember when this guy in your Music Therapy class, and another girl, you don’t really remember what hear studies were about, but she was in your distant group circle and they both had a big – massive – you’d say, crush on your friend. You remember both of them throwing some light hints at first, thought the girl went a bit harder after as the first eventually dropped it. Jaehyun, him, was completely oblivious until you told him one night, when he was staying over after a night out. “Ask her out already !”, you sign out, left hand over your guitar’s string, blocking any sound.

“I will soon, okay ! Give me some time, I’m…Thinking about the right way to do it.”, your friend starts, drinking something in between his words. “Anyways, moving on ! How’s your neighbor ?”

You sigh at the question, opening your laptop as you search in your files for something to play, you really should organize your things a bit better, you think to yourself.

“They weren’t there.”, you breath out, eyes unconsciously flickering to the window. From this angle, you can’t really see much, apart from the vague shapes behind the curtains, yellowish light on before you even came in your room.

“They ? Oh…Is it a couple ?”, Jaehyun asks, tone slightly disappointed. See, this morning, you obviously told your friend about the airdrop…Thing. Obviously, you had texted him before going to sleep but decided to keep much of the details for a real life conversation. After a hushed story-time, eyes travelling to your teacher every now and then to make sure he was not looking at you, you told him about what happened this morning.

Of course, it immediately poked the blonde’s curiosity, who would not be. As said, you and Jaehyun had been friends for some years now. When you two met, he was in a relationship that ended a few months after, you being there for him had strengthen the bond, he had been single ever since and you, had been single all the way. Sure, you had a few crushes, two or three people shooting there shot but, the crushes were always short-lived, nothing serious.

So, when Jaehyun heard that you found someone attractive after months of radio silence of the channel of your earth, someone who lives next to you at that, your friend jumped on the occasion, already hoping for something to happen before you even got to introduce yourself to the guy.

“I don’t know, Sangkyu said they’re two roommates.”, you inform, trying to recall the two names the oldest men told you hours before.

“…Are you sure you don’t want me to stalk ?”, Jaehyun proposes for the second time today. As soon as you finished your small story this morning, the Korean asked if you wanted him to do some stalking, promising and selling his apparently, amazing, skills in the domain.

“Jaehyun, no. I didn’t even introduce myself.”, you breathe out, half-desperate, half laughing at his antics. “Alright, alright. Go see them soon, alright ?”, there’s a small silence, you simply hum at his question. “Play me something while I do the dishes.”, your friend yawns and you oblige pretty quickly, after finally finding a song to practice to. Maybe you need a little more practice on the song, one by Frank Ocean in the “channel ORANGE” album he put out in 2012, if you recall correctly. On the other line, the sound of water running and dishes being done drowns the voice of your friend slightly singing to the song, one you two have on the collective Spotify playlist you have. Your attention stays on your screen, just in case you forget a chord and, as you’re starting the second chorus, something comes between your eyes and the sheet. Your hand comes flat on your guitar strings, stopping the music at once. You already know what it is.

Jaehyun does not stop the water, but his voice does comes closer, microphone muted every now and then as you hear him struggle. “Why did you- Oh, fuck, nooo. There’s sop everywhere.” You laugh breathlessly at his whines, eyes quickly looking at the black screen of your phone, like you’d be able to see your friend. Though, you hear him wipe his screen, cloth going over his microphone again.

“There ! Why did you stop ?”, he asks, bringing his mouth a bit too close to his phone. Staying silent for a second, your finger tap on yet another Airdrop. “He sent another one.”, you simply say, a bit quietly, as if your neighbor will be able to hear you. Pupils look over at the window, you almost want to get up and walk to your window but…

Jaehyun gasps softly over the phone, “Play it, play it.”, he says as you’re scanning the sheet sent. And oh, he’s that type. It’s crazy how two songs alone help you draw a quick sketch of your neighbor’s personality, or his music taste at the very least. Unlike yesterday, you don’t hesitate and open the file sent, though you have to say you already know the chords.

“Jae’. He sent The Neighbourhood’s Daddy Issues.”, you squick into the phone after grabbing into with your right hand. Jaehyun knows well, you still love the band but had an unhealthy obsession a few years back, not to mention your massive crush on Zach Abels.

“Oh. Ooh. He’s like that.”, Jaehyun notes as well, before he presses you again to play it. Urged by your friend, you lean forward to adjust the reverb on your guitar. “That’s…Kinda hot, though.”, your friend whispers out and you, yourself, can’t comprehend the sound that comes from your lips, something between a laugh and a choked gasp.

“Jae’…What ?”

“No, but, I mean…Daddy Issues, that’s hot.”, he tries to explain himself, you quickly shut him up by running your fingers over the six strings. You don’t really need to look at the tabs, from memory, your fingers find their rightful place.

“3D, 5D, 3G, 5D, 5B, 5G.”, you say as you play the notes, humming the rest as you play the intro.

“C minor, G minor, B flat major.”, and from then, you remember the song pretty easily. Between two chords, you turn the volume on your guitar up, just to make sure your neighbor’s hearing you play.

“That’s flirting.”, concludes Jaehyun once you’re done with the song, you know him well enough to know his mouth a bit agape.

“It is not.”, you tell him, though you’re not sure yourself what this is.

“You have to talk to him like, right now.”, he urges so loudly you have to turn the volume on your phone down.

“Now ? No ! I’m in my pyjamas, and I don-.”, you start, and it’s your friend’s turn to cut you off. “’kay, okay ! Go talk to him tomorrow, please ?”

“I will, don’t worry.”, you start, but before you can continue, you’re phrase’s cut again but this time, it’s by…A piano.

Your mouth parts for a second, a single syllable falling from your lips before you close your mouth. The tune’s familiar, but you never heard in played on a piano. Your head slowly raises, eyes fixated on your window.

“Can you hear this ?”, you quietly ask Jaehyun, who answers with a soft “Yeah”, sounding as dumbfounded as you do. Slowly, you get up from your bed, leaving your guitar on your bed, that’s when you realize how hot it is. The fabric of your shirt sticks to your skin, hands lacing into your hair as your push them up in a makeshift ponytail to let your neck get some air.

It's after a few notes that you finally put your finger on it. The Weeknd's last album, “After Hour”. “Repeat after me.”, you tell Jaehyun, I single “Oh” coming from his lips as he recolls the song.So he's a musician as well, you conclude easily. You never heard anyone play this very song on the piano, you wonder if it's his own arrangement.

On the other end of the line, the blonde's silent, carefully listening to the soft piano tunes as you do the same. Few steps take you to your window again, just like you did this morning. This time, curtains are pulled to the side, enough for you to  see the same broad shoulders under a black hoodie, back straight as his head hangs down towards the keyboard.

From your spot, you can't really see his fingers, but you do see his hands quickly running over the black and whites, pressing confidently. Seeing a pianist's always mesmerising, eyes stuck on the figure, you try your best to get a better view but, what can you do from your room ?

When the song ends, unlike this morning, you don't hide behind your wall. Your neighbor doesn't move, stretching his arms above his head, fingers laced together, a curse falls down your lips.

“Y/N. Send him a sheet.”

It's around five in the afternoon when you find yourself in front of your neighbor's door, holding a black box of cakes, for the second time this week. Your classes had ended two hours earlier today and maybe, maybe you should use that time to work on your assignment but since last night, you don't think you can go another day without introducing yourself to the building's new people. Plus, you have enough time, you tell yourself.

It's ironic, isn't it ? You weren't the type to go out of your way to speak to your neighbors, most didn't have a lot in common with you but now. Now, this nameless, a bit too handsome young guy moves in and you're bringing some patisseries in front of his door.

Music brings people together, you've always thought, you've always known and this, this is a pretty good example. You're pretty sure you wouldn't have went out of your way like this if the guy didn't send you a tab sheet, if he didn't play last night.

Like yesterday, you bring your first up, knocking a bit more confidently this time, thought you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

You barely have the time to let your hand fall down to your side when a deep, voice a bit far away let's out. “Coming !”

Of course, broad shoulder guy had to have a deep voice to go along side.

“Oh, hi.”, your soul almost jumps out of your body when the deep green door abruptly opens to reveal none other than your - handsome - neighbor.

“Hi...! Uh, I'm your next door neighbor, the name's Y/N.”, you let out, maybe you should thank your past self for practicing this very line right before stepping out of your apartment.

Your right hand's stretched out in front of your for him to shake, but your attention's on something else. Deep brown eyes stare down at you, they almost make you feel small. Or maybe they're a honey brown, you wonder as the plane blocking the sun finally moves away to reflect into his eyes.

Yes, definitely honey brown eyes, the same eyes that turn a crescent shape, just like before a full. moon.

He smiles at you with the same full lips you saw from your window, hands wrapping around your own.

“Ah, yes. Johnny, nice to meet you !”, he says, hand slowly shaking your own. Finally, a name on the face. You quickly notice the slight simple in the middle of his cheek before he lets go of your hand.

“Oh, I bought some cakes from the coffee shop down the street.”, you tell Johnny, both hands one the black box.

At this, his lips turn from a smile to an - o shape, eyes round. Maybe you guessed right at the moon phase.

“You didn't have to !”, your neighbor blurs out, hands at his sides for a few seconds before they eventually accept the gift when you slightly push the box towards him. Your eyes fall to his hands for a quick second and yes, definitely some pianist hands.

“It's just a small welcome gift ! I wanted to drop them yesterday but, I think you weren't there.”, you explain, a lot, lot more relaxed, though turning your attention away from the men's hands. This isn't the moment nor the place.

“Ah yeah, me and Ten we're out for the first grocery shopping trip.”, he explains, right shoulder leaning against his door frame. You get a quick glimpse at the apartment itself, though you don't look at it too long, everything looks already set up. You remember taking a week to get everything as home-like, but you guess having a second pair of arms help.

“Ten ?”, you ask, right hand wrapping around your left upper arm. Probably the one Sangkyu was talking about the other day.

“Yeah, he's my roommate.”, Johnny answers, letting a silence settle between the two of you. “Do you want to come in ? I won't be able to eat two cakes by myself.”, the men proposes after a few seconds, pupils landing on the black box. He probably saw the two cakes thank to the transparent part of the cardboard box, at the top.

Come in ? And... Eat with him ? Suddenly, your palms grow sweaty, slightly shifting one foot to another. “Oh, but. Your roommate.”, you mumble out.

Sure, at first, you bought two cakes, one for him and one for you. Though you thought you'd eat them by yourselves, when Sangkyu told you about the second person living there, you figured you'd keep the two cakes for your two neighbors.

“He's at his parents’ house to get some things, he won't be there until the day after tomorrow.”, the brunette tells you with a smile. His body moves a bit more, enough to let you enter. “Come on, I need someone to help me eat all of this.”

How can you say no to this ?

“Wait, it ends like that ? There’s no way he does that.”, laughs Johnny, a full laugh that shakes his chest, right under his plain white t-shirt. Short sleeves rolled up to his shoulders, his body leans back, black jeans covered legs spread on his one person sofa.

“I swear he does, watch the second season !”, you interject quickly, straw mixing the iced tea in your long glass, ice cubes clashing against each other before eventually melting away.

“Yeah, I guess I will…! I never thought he’d kill her.”, you neighbor says, and he seems genuinely choked, bushy eyebrows raised.

After taking a step in his apartment, the pianist led you to the biggest sofa, where he left you for a few minutes. People say boys are bad at decorating their place, but you have to say Johnny and Ten’s apartment was already looking pretty good. Beige walls, a few black and white pictures were hung up right above the dark sofa. Wide windows on your left, your apartment has the opposite view. While you have a view towards the city center, street lights fascinating at night, Johnny has an amazing view on the park.

Large television right in front of you, you quickly notice de PlayStation 4 and switch neatly placed under it. On your right, just like your apartment, the small open kitchen, counter the only thing separating the two rooms. The honey-eyed seemed to have found his marks easily, navigating in the kitchen quickly. After taking out two plates and two small spoons, he placed the two cakes, refusing your help every time you offered it.

“Iced tea ?”, he had asked, taking out two long glasses when you agreed. Red hibiscus iced tea was poured and handed, before he sat in front of you. You do not remember well how the conversation around the series “You” started, but you recall seeing his Netflix profile on the tv screen.

“So, you live alone ?”, he asked after some seconds of silence, pillow lips wrapping around his metal straw.

“Yeah, I’ve been there for a year, I’d say.”, you start out, spoon digging into the chocolate mousse. “You’ll see, it’s lovely here.”, you tell Johnny with a smile he mirrors.

“I’m sure it is, everyone’s really nice. Especially Sangkyu.”, you laugh at that, the old men really has the power to give one memorable first impression.

“Ah, Sangkyun-.”, you laugh, “He’s something.”, you point out, yourself taking a sip of the iced tea. “Really good memory too, he made fun of me for buying two sets of guitar picks in a few months span.”

“Oh, right, the guitarist.”, Johnny smiles, placing his empty plate on his table. Pink tongue pokes out to wet his lips, your eyes shamefully follow the movement before forcing yourself to find his honey eyes again.   There it was, you didn’t know when nor how to bring the subject up, but you were thankful it happened naturally. For two people, two strangers, the conversation was going pretty well.

“Exactly ! By the way, sorry if the music’s too loud.”, you add quickly, yourself reaching towards the table to leave your empty glass. You’ll have to ask for the receipt. Johnny’s reaction is almost comical, his head shaking from left to right. “No, no ! It’s not too loud, not at all. T-That’s why I sent you a sheet, I liked it.”, he blurs he words out quickly, cute, you think.

Crossing one leg over the other, your eyes shift to the left for a quick second at the small compliment. “Thank you. You’re a good pianist.”, you return with a smile, spoon scraping the last bit of biscuit.

“Thank you very much, it means a lot. Have you been playing for long ?”, he asks, glass a quarter full left on the table. His right arm comes behind his sofa’s backrest, getting more comfortable.

“Since I was…eleven. Got an acoustic for my birthday and ended up selling it for an electric a year and a half later. What about you ?”, you explain, remembering the light brown instrument your parents got for you, you also remember it being way, way too big.

“Ah, yeah, I’ve always liked the sound of an electric guitar better. I was seven, or eight. My mother wanted me to learn and I ended up really liking it.”, he explains, fingers tapping on the sofa’s fabric.

Music brings people together, you tell yourself a second time when Johnny tells you about how her mother loves the sound of a piano, how she’d always stop next to her when he played. A kind of art that helps you learn more about a person, when he tells you his favorite songs to play and you tell him yours.

“But you do have a real pianist’s hands !”, you argue back when Johnny down plays one of your compliments, to which the brunette looks down. Crescent shaped eyes fall on his ring clapped fingers, a small smile on his lips he struggles to hide. “You noticed ?”, he asks, and you try to convince yourself his voice did not get lower.

“Well, yeah. A music student always looks at people’s hands.”, nice save, Y/N.

You learn the young men kept music as a hobby and currently studies international commerce et economics, Ten is a long, long time friend pursuing performing arts. You learn your neighbor’s not only a good looking men, brown locks falling in front of his, nose crunching up every time he finds something funny, rosy lips tugging up to reveal a row of white pearls. He’s also extremely well mannered. Soft spoken, polite, his chuckles put you in a comfort zone, the way he almost doesn’t let you help him clean the two plates a bit too cute. You find his presence entertaining.

Maybe it’s because you just met him, things to learn about him awaiting, but you don’t see the hours running by, nor does he.

It’s around ten post meridiem when Johnny insists to walk you to your door, handwritten receipt of his hibiscus iced tea in hand.

“Do you want me to st-”, Jaehyun asks over the phone for the third time in a week, or maybe for the fourth time, you lost count. Your devise rests right next to your laptop, which is propped on your desk.

“No, Jae'. I don't want you to stalk him.”, you breathe out into your microphone, fingertips tapping on your touchpad at a random rhythm. A paragraph, the conclusion, and you should be done on your essay.

“Too late. Got him !”, he almost chants out and, at that, there's a silence. Clear sign of your disappointment and your blonde friend's concentration. “Oh, wow. He's a photographer too ?”, he asks as if you can see his screen.

You hate it, you hate how your curiosity gets picked by the simple sentence. Needless to say, Jaehyun was filled in by every bit of information you got once Johnny walked you to your door, at least he waited two days before searching for your new neighbor's Instagram. Or at least you think.

“Oh wow. OH. Woah.”, your friend gasps into his microphone, your index taps aggressively on your keyboard, deleting the last sentence you wrote. He’s obviously doing it on purpose, pushing your bottoms. The blonde knows how curious you are, he’s just trying to see how long you can keep it together.

“Uh, Ja-. Show me, what did you find ?”, not very long, obviously.

“Ah, see ! Wait, I'll send you some screenshots. He's hot.”

He is, you want to answer, but would rather shut your mouth for now or you’ll never hear the end of it. Eyes finally leaving the screen of your laptop, they travel to another, finger unlocking your phone.

Your text messages with your friend enlighten your features, bubble appearing at the bottom.

“Finding him was extremely easy.”, Jaehyun points out, before a few screenshots are sent at the same time.

And indeed, you see how easy it must've been for your blonde boy. User johnnyjsuh.

He must've been pretty popular in his old schools, you think after looking at his followers.

Pictures of him in the same white shirt you saw him in days prior, pictures of him with an argentic camera, selfies, mirror selfies, outfit pictures. His feed is almost as good as Jaehyun's. And that says something.

Unlike Jaehyun, you don't have to be careful, worried you'll accidentally like one of his pictures. Shamelessly zooming on the screenshots your university friend sent you, you unconsciously pull your bottom him between your teeth.

He's cute. Too handsome it should be illegal.

“That's a lot but, yeah.”, Jaehyun giggles, you learn you don't have much of a filter between your mind and mouth. “Follow him !”

“Are you crazy ?”, you almost scream out, eyes wide at the suggestion. “He'll know we searched him up.”

Basic social media rules, you can't follow the guy when you don't even have his number, nor talked to him more than twice at this point, if him talking to you in the elevator counts.

“Alright, alright. Don't scream in my ears like that, I have earphones.”, he complains, not leaving you a second before continuing. “Y/N, don't be a coward, airdrop something.”

“I-.”, you start out, attention drown back to your computer. With one tap of your finger, you manage to hide your word document, piano sheet open behind it. You’ve searched a few sheets the day prior, downloading one before going to sleep that night, just in case.

After all, he sent you two tabs, why wouldn't you send him something ?

Tap, tap, you open the airdrop settings. You really should, hm ?

“Alright. I'm doing it.”, you finally say, more to yourself but your friend softly cheers on anyways.

“Ocean Eyes - Billie Eilish.”, from the songs he sent you, it's a fair guess your neighbor is familiar with this one too, you’d doubt he doesn’t know who Billie Eilish is.

“Johnny's IPhone”, it's a click away. One you reach, tapping on the touch pad again. Sent. There.

“Now we wait.”, you announce, leaning back .

“Tell me if anything happens, I have a call to take.”

On that, simple goodbyes are said, you promise Jaehyun you’d tell me if anything happens, he hangs up after saying good bye a second time.

Minutes go by, you don't really know how many, maybe five where you debate going back to your essay, finger frantically tapping on the Word Document icon. Before a few notes are heard.

Piano notes, fingers pressed down on white and black keys. It has the power to make you smile, lips tugging upwards, there’s obviously not a doubt who’s playing at this very moment. Even the way he plays feels confident, he's sure of himself, he knows what he's doing.

Attention for your school work long gone, your pupils naturally find your window again.

It's slightly open, the music would come in easier if it was fully pushed, you think to yourself.

Do you even have to hide anymore ? You guess not. He knows, you know, it's just music you want to enjoy, you convince yourself even though your palms are slightly warm, heart fluttering in your chest.

Leaving your phone on your desk, you quickly walk to your window, right hand in the handle pushes it towards yourself. Warm breeze enters your bedroom, in a soft gush that sends your baby hairs floating away from your face, framing your features.

The sun's just starting to set, purple hue tiger stripes on the blue sky but your eyes are on another shade of purple.

Johnny's wearing a light lilac hoodie, brown locks the only thing you can see, he hasn't moved his piano, his back facing you again.

Forearms against the window frame, you lean forward, humming at the summer sent floating in the air.

A bit too quickly, your neighbor ends the song, hands lingering on the keyboard. Finally, his right hand grabs the very phone he propped up on his piano to see the sheet you sent him, sliding it in his back pocket.

He stands up, fingers toying with a button on his instrument, probably turning some things off.

He turns around, you don't duck to the side.

The men's visibly taken back, his turn stopping mid-way, lips slightly parting for a second. Honey brown eyes find yours before his pupils travel down at your body behind your glass window. He genuinely smiles after a few seconds, eyes half crescents, full lips tugging upwards, you can almost hear his giggle.

“Hi.”, voice soft, Johnny says once he opened his own window a bit more, forearms on his frame, mirroring your own posture.

“Hey, that was very good.”, you tell him, head tilting to your left.

“Ah, thank you. I messed up somewhere in the beginning, though.”, one hand scratches the back of his neck like an embarrassed teenager, before his elbow rests on the frame, hand holding his jaw.

“Ah shoot, I'll send something easier next time.”, you tease, to which he laughs lightly, the sound airy.

“Would be easier to send it by text, wouldn't it ?”, Johnny asks, one eyebrow raised and you have to say, you took a second to understand. But when the brunette hands you his phone, pricy devise between two apartments on the ninth floor, your eyes grow wide.

Your number, he wants your number.

Probably just because you two are neighbors, you have a bunch of your neighbors’ phone number too...

And also probably because sending sheet via airdrop isn't the most convenient thing in the world. Don’t over think it, Y/N. Don’t overthink it.

Two hands grab his phone, just in case, and you struggle to remember your phone number all of a sudden.

You have to retract in your room, too scared you're going to drop the devise with your slightly trembling hands before eventually typing in your name and phone number. You don’t get why you’re so nervous, maybe it’s because Johnny didn’t stop looking at you, slightly giggling at your antics.

“Oh, by the way. I'm sorry if sending that tab sheet the first time was too much. I just couldn't resist.”, Johnny blurs out once he gets his phone back, sliding it back into his pocket. It’s his turn to look slightly nervous, hand rubbing at his shoulder.

“Ah, no, not at all ! It was fun, plus I think we might share the same music taste.”, you reassure him with a smile.

“Really ? You should send me your playlists.”, your neighbor says with an enthusiastic tone, eyes lightening up.

If Jaehyun was there, he'd tell you this was blatant flirting. Maybe you'd agree. At that very moment, you thank your past self for having a pretty organized Spotify accounts, you're one of these people with matching playlists accounts and vague names, a playlist for each feeling almost.

“Yeah, sure ! I'll send you my Spotify user !”, you immediately tell him, as keen as he is.

“Nice, and I c-.", his sentence is abruptly cut by a surprised noise falling from his lips, brown eyes looking up at the sky. He sticks out his right hand, palm up.

Rain starts pouring down.

Saturday, laundry day. It’s not a moment you particularly cherish but at least, you do not have to walk meters or kilometers to wash your clothes. Half thorn basket on your left hip, your right hand mindlessly scrolls through Johnny’s playlist, small smile on your features.

See, after the rain started pouring down, you two decided to return to your rooms in unanimity. Now that he had your number, communication was a lot, lot easier. As promised, you sent him your Spotify profile, where he followed you and you did the same.

User youngho’s listening to “The Weekend – SZA” from “late summer nights and city lights” playlist.

Your playlist.

User citylight’s listening to “Angelina – WIINSTON” from “yellow” playlist. His playlist.

Blatant flirting, Jaehyun would say.

Johnny has his playlist organized by colors, a simple theme you quite like. You have to say, you like all of them but, you had to follow his “purple”, “blue” and “yellow” playlist, where your neighbor managed to capture the color’s feeling. However, after a few days, the “red” playlist sat untouched. You didn’t dare. For having a similar playlist Johnny was actually shamelessly listening to, you knew exactly what the “red” playlist held.  

To : Johnny, 1:25 pm. : “how does angelina only has 40k view on youtube !!”

You quickly type on your keyboard, right after saving the said song to your likes. Finding new artist and finding new song’s always fun, especially when Johnny’s as invested as you are. He’d send you his thoughts on some songs, and you quickly learned the brunette was musically more intelligent than some people in your course.

From : Johnny, 1:27 pm. : “I honestly don’t know….” : “It’s such a catchy song too like”

Double text. Fuck, Jaehyun really got into your brain, didn’t he ? The notification bar slides down for a few seconds, enough for you to read his texts. At the same time, the metallic doors of your elevator open up to the lobby. Leaving your devise in your basket of dirty clothes, you figure you’d answer in a few minutes, once you’re done with your laundry.

“Good afternoon, Sangkyu !”, you call out the the older men before he manages to see you. It’s a fun thing you like to do, catching him off guard whenever you can. Turning his face towards you, the bold men vigorously waves.

“Y/N ! Hello !”

You don’t stop by his cubicle, rather turn to your left right before. There’s built the building’s laundry unit, you thank the architect every week for this. You do pay a little for it every month but again, it’s better than having to walk for minutes with a basket of heavy fabric. Four small machines and four bigger, it’s enough for everyone in the building. It’s also where some announcements are tapped, probably because people usually sit around the laundry room waiting for their clothes.

You’re probably going to watch an episode of Chambers while your clothes watch, you think to yourself as you open the door. It seems the universe has some other plans for you.

By now, it’s almost comical how easily you recognize Johnny’s back. Brown t-shirt on his broad shoulders, his head bob to a rhythm you can’t hear. He’s dropping his wet clothes in the machine to dry them, face turning towards the noise as you close the heavy door behind you.

“Oh, Y/N, hey !”, his smile is heard through his voice, right hand taking his earphones one. Johnny places his Airpods in their case, one you quickly notice is Marvel themed.

“Hey, Johnny.”, you wave with a hand, taking your earphones off as well.

“I was just listening to your playlist.”, the brunette says, shaking his earphones in his hand. You laugh at that, leaving your basket on the table. You assume the second basket there is Johnny’s. “Same !”

There’s a comfortable silence, the brunette pushes a few buttons on the machine and his clothes are sent for a cycle. You, yourself, drop your clothes in the washing machine after setting your phone on the brown table. You’re about to turn around and sit down, but you’re abruptly blocked by a tall figure, accidently bumping into Johnny’s chest.

“Oh, sorry.”, he breathes out, you hear him place another basket on his machine, right hand on your shoulder as if his chest did anything more than surprise you. “No worries…How many clothes do you have ?”, you ask with a laugh, not meaning to sound rude. But your neighbor’s dumping a second whole basket into the machine right next to you.

“Ah, Ten. He needs an entire outfit every day. Sometimes he even changes in the middle of the day.”, the machine quietly starts after the blue liquid is poured, Johnny leans against it. You’ve never seen your neighbor so up close, how is his face so symmetrical ? Slender eyes curling inwards, short little lashes batting a few times.

“Y/N ?”, fuck. His lips sure were moving and you didn’t register anything at all, you probably look dumb.

“I’m sorry, wh- what did you say ?”, clearing your throat, your eyes travel down to the machine, looking at the settings like you forgot to turn something on.

“I found your guitar picks. I mean, I assumed they’re yours.”, he says again, but he doesn’t hide the wide smile on his lips. You probably look dumb, really dumb. Right hand fishes into his back open, before he presents what indeed is one of your guitar picks, the light blue one. He holds it between his thumb and index, you notice he does so the right way, maybe he plays guitar.

“Oh, yeah. That’s definitely mine. Where did you find it…?”, you half ask, already knowing the possible answer. His palm opens to reveal not one, but two other picks of different colors.

“Washing machine.”, he says simply.

You learn Johnny uses a detergent that smells like vanilla and some flower blossom you can not distinguish, but the smell sure is comforting. It floats in the air as he folds his clothes next to you while doing a very detailed report on The Weeknd’s new album.

“But he’s right, though. “Repeat after me” is just a song where he brainwashes her but it’s so good.”, you tell Johnny while you take care of your wet clothes.

“His storytelling skills just keep getting better.”, he approves while popping a candy in his mouth. “Want some ?”

“Oh yeah, thanks !”, dropping the small chocolate in your hand, both your attentions are caught by the sound of the door opening. A lady in her mid-thirties enters the room, dyed red hair stopping at her shoulders.

“Miss Jeon, hi !”, you great the lady with a smile, one she easily returns. For the entire year you’ve been there, you don’t think you ever saw her without one tugging her lips.

“Hey, kids !”

Ah, yes. Miss Jeon also insists on calling everyone slightly younger than her “kid”. You don’t mind, though. You notice the rolled up paper in her right hand as she takes the hairband out.

“Doing laundry, eh ?”, she starts out, “Ah, it’s a great thing you two are here. Me and my husband are organizing a little gathering for the building’s anniversary.”

Right, Sangkyu told you about it, you remember. You hear Johnny hum behind you, to what Miss Jeon continues.

“It’ll be Saturday in two weeks ! Johnny, you and your roommate could come and get to know everyone a bit better, yeah ? Though I see you’ve already made friends with our Y/N.” Oh no, there she goes. You love the Jeons, but they’re so, so talkative, and they never know when to stop. They’re like parents taking your old embarrassing pictures out when your friends are over. Your eyes grow wide, a slightly embarrassed chuckle coming out of your lips.

The lady struggles to unwrap the paper, to which Johnny leaves the shirt he was folding to help her out.

“Ah, thank you. You know, Y/N isn’t really that talkative, but I think it’s because we didn’t share a lot in common, and we’re not as young and handsome as you.”

God. Stuck on your chair, wide eyes look at the scene as your neighbor chuckles. “Oh, really ?”, he urges her to continue to your misbelief,  but you quickly understands he’s doing it on purpose, crescent eyes sparkling with amusement as he looks over at you, the young and handsome bit wasn’t necessary but it sure did boost his ego.

Miss Jeon finally unfolds the paper, a big announcement on the anniversary gathering she’s holding. In the park, with the date and hour, you guess you should find an appropriate dress for the event and something to eat to bring.

“Anyways, it’s great having new faces ! You’ll come, right ?”, sticking he paper to the wall, the lady claps her hands, a little joyful jump when Johnny nods.

“Yeah. We’ll go together, yeah ?”

You learn Johnny isn’t only a good looking guy, he’s also a really good friend.

The friendship grows easily, after Miss Jeon left, he helps you out with your clothes while already planning what to bring for the gathering. The brunette tells you he’s better at cooking salty dishes than sugary cakes. You agree on that, it’s one of the many reasons why you buy anything sugary at the coffee shop down the street. Nonetheless, you and your new neighbor decide to challenge yourselves, you propose some French crepes and Johnny agrees on using his kitchen for it, with the help of Ten who’ll surely be here. Surely, the kids living in the buildings would love them and, they aren’t that hard to make.

You two walked to your apartment floor, basket in hand, though Johnny’s ability to carry two at the same time is rather impressive. One on top of the other, you try to be as discreet as possible when your eyes travel down to his arms, flexing, to his ring clapped fingers, gripping at the handles. He doesn’t walk you to your door but, is it really necessary ?

It’s funny how the universe seems so willing to put him on your path.

Every now and then, you catch a glimpse of the men through your window, walking in his room, mindlessly walking back and forth when he’s thinking about a composition, pen taking on his full bottom lip. He seems really concentrated whenever he tries to write something, eyebrows furrowed, whispering quietly to himself. He catches you carelessly dancing to songs late at night under your lights, moving like nobody’s watching, hands in the air as the singer’s angelic voice seems to control your body, silently giggling when you catch his eyes and abruptly stop.

He seems to vaguely have the same schedule as you do, you see him getting ready some days of the weeks, applying cream on his face like the first time you ever caught a glimpse at his sharp features at a distance. And you bump into him in the elevator every other day, both so exhausted with your classes, heavy backpack carelessly throws over your shoulders, so tired you two would rather smile and stay silent in the metal cubicle. You see him with his roommate a few times too, the first time happens to be right in front of their door, both of them carrying two bags of groceries.

Finally, you’re introduced to Ten, a much smaller and a bit thinner guy, though you quickly find out his personality might be as big as Johnny himself. His bright smile and laugh are both extremely contagious, and you also notice for yourself how much he cares about his appearance. Just like Johnny told you when you first saw him in the laundry unit, he wears different outfits like he’s going for a runway every day. Sharp eyes covered under his jet black hair, you can’t help but notice the multiple piercings on his ears.

Funny enough, you catch your new friend at the “Flâner” coffee shop, getting the exact same cake you brought him and some dark coffee, he tells you he got addicted to everything they do but regret not having enough time to sit down and study here.

On top of that, he never stops texting you, you never stop texting him. Conversation flows easily to the point where you sometimes have to pause to type out a response while you’re on the phone with Jaehyun.

Ah, your dear friend Jaehyun. Your blonde friend follows the events like a drama, though you tell him multiple times that “Nothing will happen, we’re just neighbors.”

Are you, though ? You don’t know if neighbors send each other sheet, you and Johnny never stopped, it became easier with his number. You don’t know if neighbors talk to each other by the windows, for so long it leaves marks on both your arms at the end of the night, red dent on your skin. You don’t know if normal neighbors talk to each other that much.

You and Johnny tip toe on the lines between neighbors and friends, the line between friends and…a little more ? The line snaps right before the building’s anniversary.

Thursday, one in the afternoon when the metal doors of your elevator open to your hallway. The sun’s shining, birds singing, your teacher’s car broke down, leaving you with a free day. Truly, the universe was on your side, you thought when you got the text from your classmate. After texting Jaehyun who told you he already went to the mall at your opposite, you decided to use that time to buy some curtains and take a day off your studies. A well deserved day off, you might add.

After searching again and again, you thought it’d be better to get new ones. You remember the old ones got dirty anyways. Plus, it’s not like you want to hide yourself from Johnny, he has some and you figure you should too for some privacy every now and then. A pack of clear curtains in your hands and some cushions in a bag for your living room, you step out of the metal cubicle, only to be greeted by a Johnny standing right in front of your door. Attention caught by the sound, your friend turns around, half expecting to see you and, he looks slightly flustered ? Short eyelashes bat a few times, rosy cheeks as he opens his month just to close it right after.

“Hey, Johnny ?”, you start, completely clueless at first, you don’t notice the white fabric he has in his hand. “Do you need something ?”, you ask, setting down all the new things you bought down, alongside your bag as you fish for your keys inside.

“I-uh…”, he starts. Why is his voice so shaky ? Eyebrows slightly raised, a knee down, you look up at your friend with a curious look. At that, the brunette looks away. Honey eyes diverge to his right as he shifts his body from left to right.

“Johnny ?”, keys in hand, you rise to your feet, slightly turning away to open your door, struggling a little at the last lock.

“We uh, got some clothes mixed up.”, he tells you, pink hue on his cheeks. You take a few seconds to understand, before recalling the meeting in the laundry unit.

“Oh ! I didn’t even notice anything missing.”, you tell him with a laugh, before your smile wavers to a more…stunned expression. The white fabric he’s holding in a hand, you only need a second look to distinguish the lace waistline you know too well. Your panties. He’s holding your panties. God, you didn’t even notice ? You wear these often, you don’t have that much panties. “Oh.”, you say again, with a much different tone. Heat washes over your body, a much deeper shade of pink coloring your cheeks.

Lips dry, you extend your hand down, almost timid to hold your own piece of clothing.

Johnny stays quiet, handing you the white underwear, hand hiding in his pocket right after.

“Erhm, thank you.”, you mumble out, hiding the fabric behind the pack of clear curtains, like he did not have the time to look at it before.

“I’m sorry, I found them in my shirts this morning and I first thought about just leaving them at your door but it would’ve been even more awkward.”, he laughs slightly, hand rubbing at the back of his nape again. You laugh lightly at that, it sure would’ve been even weirder to find your panties in a box in front of your door. Creepier too.

“Would’ve been very Joe-like.”, you tell him with a smile, the atmosphere immediately a lot less tense. You’re thankful for it, it’s clear Johnny didn’t want things to be…weird either. He laughs a little, cheeks high, before noticing your new purchase, especially your curtains.

“Oh, redecorating a bit ?”, his arms cross in front of him, biceps building up, stretching the sleeves of his shirt. “Ah, a little. I just needed new curtains, I forgot where I stored the old ones.”, you tell him, shoulder leaning again your door. “Putting them on was a nightmare.”, you sigh a little, head resting on your door as well. When you first moved in, you had to put the curtains all alone and only remember the ache in your neck and arms.

“…Was it ?”, he asks with a sly smile, eyebrows lightly furrowed like he’s questioning your experience.

“Some of us aren’t blessing with your height, Johnny.”, you tell him with a fakely annoyed glare, “I almost fell down and broke my back.”. You dramatize with a pout on your lip, to which Johnny only smirks lightly.

“Need some help ?”, Johnny finally, head tilting to the side. “I don’t want you breaking your back.” Yet, Johnny thinks.

“Ah, please !”, no need for him to propose a second time, you’d take anyone to help you with these demons any day, let alone someone like Johnny. One hand turns your door handle, proceeding to push it with your body. “Welcome to my humble home.”

Johnny lightly chuckles at your antics, curious eyes scanning over your apartment. It’s always weird to see an apartment so similar to yours yet so different, he hums at the sent of the light incense you blow out right before leaving. Sliding your shoes off, your friend follows quickly after, though he takes them with one hand to neatly store them right next to your door.

“It’s really pretty.”, he hums behind you as you walk towards your living room, letting the back full of cushions on your table. Smiling brightly as his compliment, you have to say you were pretty proud of your decorating skills. You took multiple months to pile everything you wanted up and, after a year, all your plants grew green and luscious.

“Thank you very much !”, hands gathering your hair, you quickly attach them with a hairband you always have on your wrist. “Do you want something to drink ?”

“Hm, maybe later ! Let’s start with these nightmare curtains first.”

“Alright, let me just get the stool.”, and on that, you take a second to remember exactly where you stored it before quickly jogging to the small closet near your entrance door. You don’t remember the last time you used it, you take a few seconds to take the cold iron object out of its hiding place, one foot stuck in a random box you still have there. You finally pull the object with a sharp tug and not without a small sound of struggle. Johnny is quick to grab into the heavy object and lets you take care of the pack you just bought. For the few seconds you take to move from your living room to your bedroom, you pray you didn’t leave anything too embarrassing there, you really didn’t think you’d have Johnny over today. But thankfully, when you open your bedroom door, the only think you left on your bed’s your pyjamas or rather, shirt you sleep in you didn’t fold the morning.

“So that’s the room.”, Johnny notices softly, the very room he seems fragments of from his own. Curious eyes look over your desk and the multiple things you sticked right above it, before they travel to the side he definitely never saw from his window. Denty fingers gaze at your guitar’s neck like he’s afraid of touching it without your permission, though it’s definitely clear you don not mind.

“It is ! Is it weird seeing it entirely ?”,  you joke a bit around as you sit the pack down on your desk. Scissors you leave on your desk are used to cleanly open the transparent protection as Johnny opens the stool and places it where he desires. “Really weird, I’m used to…this.”, he jokes too, thumbs and pointers digits forming a frame in front of his eyes. “And that’s what you see. My room looks so empty from here.”, Johnny notes, leaning a little in front of your window.

“It looks like you only have a bed and a piano in there.”, you tease him.

“I don’t ! I spent two entire days decorating it ! I’ll show you next time.”, he promises and somehow, it has the power to make your lips part a little, heat slightly burning your cheeks. The brunette doesn’t notice though, and immediately starts helping you out with your curtains.

Or rather, you help him. Johnny does most of the work on your curtains and you won’t complain. The men takes things into his hands, stepping onto the stool. Where you needed to climb the four steps, Johnny barely needs to climb two, body barely needing the extra height. His hands work quickly to detach the metal bar on each side, fingers twisting at the sides. When the black bar is finally off, he hands it to you so you can work on the hoops and slide the curtains in, which you do quickly.

As easily as he took it out, Johnny slides the metal bar back in before screwing each side in. From this angle, his jaw looks even more sharp, eyes focused never leave his work. He looks even more intimidating, especially when his eyes look down at you and you have to dodge eye contact. “Much easier like that.”, you say, almost dumbfounded at how easily he just did…that. Johnny laughs with the breathy giggle you’re starting to get used to. “See, only took a few minutes at best.”, Johnny says while stepping off the stool, hand lightly touching the curtains.

“Wait, let me throw this away.”, you mumble out, picking the packaging in your hands. Again, Johnny isn’t slow to follow, telling you he’ll help you with your stool. The young men follows you quickly, easily finding the small closet you store anything and everything in once you point it with your index. From your small kitchen, the sound of the stool being pushed inside and the door closing is followed by Johnny’s joyful “Done !”.

“What do you want to drink ?”, you finally ask when the brunette sits down right in front of your kitchen counter. Elbows on the cold grey material, he stares for way too long at the two choices you offer him. Tropical juice in your right hand, still unopened bottle of some bubbly beverage in the other, your friend acts like it’s a life or death decision. “C’mon ooon.”, you laugh out, arms getting tired at the way you’re holding the heavy bottles.

Finally, the brunette points your right hand with an index.

“Oh, you’re a slytherin ?”, he asks when you open your cupboard. Glasses on the bottom and mugs at the top, you look up at the same exact mug he noticed. Right in the middle, the grey and green logo is a clear statement on your Hogwarts house.

“Yes, a very proud slytherin.”, you tell him while setting the two tall glasses on the counter, pouring equal amounts of juice into them. “Let me guess, Gryffindor ?”, you ask, arching an eyebrow.

“I actually never took the test.”, Johnny says, to which you dramatically gasp. “And I never watched the movies. One of my friend’s just a really proud slytherin as well, I bought so many slytherin themed gifts that I just can recognize the logo right away.”

Double gasp, you set your glass down, eyes growing wide as you’re trying to judge if he’s actually joking or not. You found he definitely isn’t, but he does find your reaction quite funny. His laughs resonates into his glass, liquid half drowned.

“Are you for real ?”, you ask him just to make sure, and your neighbor just nods.

“A hundred percent, I just never really had the chance to watch it.”, poking his tongue out, pink muscle collects the drop of juice threatening to fall down.

“In 2020 ?”, you’re dumbfounded, you never thought someone could actually go so long without watching it. “You have to watch it.”

“I will. One day. Maybe.”, Johnny teases, eyes falsely rolling back.

“Now.”, you tell him, a certain sense of urgency in your voice. “I won’t let you get out of my house uneducated, young sir.”, you tell him before looking through another cupboard, hand pushing some unopened chips bag and opened for too long biscuits. Finally, your hand find the flat package you were looking for, proudly taking out for Johnny to say right after checking for the expiration date. “I have popcorn.”

How can Johnny refuse ? How can he, who he has to say, already has a soft spot for you, say no to such a proposition ? Not when your clutching the said uncooked popcorn bag against your chest, slight pout he’d probably kiss away on your lips. Wait, what. Johnny understands he’s utterly fucked once he agrees after a very short time thinking, he’s fucked because he knows the more time he spends with you, the more he’s probably going to fall. You, on the other hand, only understand what you did once Johnny comfortably takes place on your coach. You’re unaware of it, but you have the same exact soft spot, the same small butterflies whenever music is heard from the other’s bedroom, the same tiny smile creeping up whenever one sends a song recommendation, the same tingly feeling in the middle of your chest whenever one catches a glimpse of the other.

Another thing the two of you have in common, you two have some impressive actor abilities, if Johnny acts cool and unbothered, totally not lowkey stressed and watched over by adrenaline at this very moment, you can do the exact same.

Has his thighs always been so…Muscular ? Firm ? Your eyes quickly move away when you catch the train of your thoughts, looking into your bowl like it’s most interesting thing ever as you pour down the hot popcorn. Picking one up, you pop in into your mouth, unconsciously trying to distract your thoughts. This brand’s popcorn really good, right amount of caramel on each piece, you wonder what hickeys look like on Johnny’s caramel skin.

Fuck, bravo. Way to go. It’s his jeans, you blame it on his jeans and how they seem to perfectly hug his legs as he spreads them on your coach, one arm right behind it as he scrolls on his phone with the other.

If the brunette’s thumb is scrolling ever so slowly on his twitter timeline, his mind isn’t really able to read the small tweets at this very moment, not when you set the bowl full of popcorn down on the table before dropping on your knees in front of your tv. Why does he have to see everything in such a way, Johnny quickly blinks and tries to get his attention back on his phone but what can he do when you’re right in the background, in the peripherical vision.

He sees you looking for the movie in the pile of CDs and games you have, before finally finding the very first Harry Potter, a triumphant “Ah-ha !”, coming out of your lips.

“You’ll love it.”, you tell Johnny once you place the CD in the CD player, something you haven’t done in actual months, seating down right next to him. You’re some what grateful you only own one single sofa that’s enough for two people and a bowl full of popcorn right in between.

“Wait, is that how Cedric dies ?”, Johnny’s mouth hangs open at the young actor laying seemingly lifeless on the grass after a fatal spell, a gag sound coming out of your friend’s lips when Voldemort’s bare feet comes in contact with the Hufflepuf’s face. “I hate this shot.”, you tell him, slightly disgusted at the scene, before you yawn loudly against your hand. The glass you refilled many time is now empty, you leave it right next to the empty pizza box Johnny insisted on buying.

It’s midnight, you can barely process the hour it is, not how long you stayed by Johnny’s side to the point where you’re curled up next to him under the blanket you two are sharing. At the end of the first movie, you were happy to see a pretty speechless and invested Johnny, it was still pretty early, around four and a half in the afternoon and you both agreed to watch the second. At the end of the second, he offered to buy pizza and something to drink while you popped the third movie. Let’s just say Johnny got a bit excited when you said the four movie was your favorite and midnight being still a bit early for two students, you agreed on watching a last one.

“So, what do you think ?”, you ask once the credits starts rolling, lazy smile stretching your features. Your tall friend flops off the coach, letting his body slowly fall on the ground to grab his phone charging. “This one’s definitely the best, I mean, the whole Marauders thing ? Love it.”, he tells you, head resting on the sofa you’re still on. “I wanna know what my house is now.”, he mumbles while unlocking his phone, searching the right quizz.

“Wait, wait. Let me read the questions !”, you tell him, hand stretching to get his phone, and the brunette gives it to you without hesitation. You, who took the exact same official test four times, are familiar with questions and ask them one by one. Day or night, forest or beach side, Johnny thinks about his answers before. Familiar animation before the sorting hat reveals his pick, you hide the phone with a hand. “Guess.”, you tell him after looking at the result, results you would’ve easily guessed.

“Gryffindor ?”, he asks with a slight bit of doubt in his voice.

“Gryffindor !”, you tell him with a dramatic shout, mimic the sorting hat’s. His head rolls back with a grown, eyes screwed shut even though he has a smile stretching his full lips.

“Ah-! I lowkey wanted to be a Slytherin.”, he tells you, big puppy like eyes looking at you from below.

“Oh, really ?”, you ask, slightly surprised. You had to say Johnny was more of a Gryffindor than a Slytherin.

“Yeah, I wanted us to match.”

Full lips out in a pout, it’s your turn to think about kissing it away.

You understand you’re fucked when Johnny helps you out in cleaning your living room, washing your glasses while you dry your plates and bowl. He understands he’s fucked again when you hum a song he’s familiar with but can’t put his finger on the name. You both are fucked when he slides right behind you to set your glasses in your cupboard, chest brushing against your back. It feels strangely domestic, comfortable and…Normal ? A soft “Be careful”, comes out of his mouth and his breath moves a few pieces of your hair, arms stretching up to carefully place the glasses he just washed. It’s your turn to walk him to his door, where you two understand Ten’s already fast asleep, loud snores coming out of one of the rooms.

How strange it is, people say time alters in airports, empty trains stations and others. Time alters in front of Johnny’s door. He leans against his door frame like the first time you two met, lazy eyes looking down at you as you stretch a bit more.

“It was fun.”, he tells you quietly, tired smile stretching your lips. You return it, sighing as your muscle wake up.

“Yeah, glad I got you into Harry Potter.”, you tease him a bit, “Might have to buy you some Gryffindor themed things.”

“Ten’s gonna lose it when he learns he wasn’t the one to get me to watch it.”, you frown at that, head tilting to the side.

“Wait, he tried ?”

“Yeah, but he never sold it like you did.”, he hums and for a moment, it seems his mind isn’t really where his words are. Honey eyes drop for a quick second to your lips, but he regains his thoughts as quickly.

“Oh, he’s gonna kill me, isn’t he ?”, you joke a bit, though you’re surprised you managed to get Johnny into the saga quickly when he told you before that him and Ten knew each other for years. The brunette’s laugh is breathy, controlled so he doesn’t wake up his roommate who’ll probably kill him right before killing you. “If he finds out, totally. We don’t have to tell him, though.”, and, did his voice just drop even lower ? You didn’t think it was possible, the man’s voice is already deep but right now, in the dead of the night, it almost seems sultry.

“Oh wow, having our secrets already ?”, you breath out, biting a laugh down on your bottom lip. It does it for Johnny, his attention was already on them right before but, his slightly clouded mind could not really help himself. He doesn’t take his eyes away, not even when your mouth slightly parts at the realization. Only then do you wonder if it is mutual, your breath alters for a second, just when the taller let’s a simple “Yeah” tumble from his lips.

He leans down, or at least, you think he does. A millimeter, maybe you dreamt it, maybe he was going to hug you, a millisecond, a third voice gets heard from the deeps of the apartment.

“Johnny ? Turn the fucking light off.”

“Y/N-ah, Y/N !”, Sangkyu sings the moment you step foot in your building with your grocery bag. You guess quickly it’s because of tomorrow’s gathering, the old men always loved a reason to party, with moderation obviously.

“Hi ! You seem particularly happy today.”, you tell him, stopping in front of his cubicle, you notice he added another drawing to his wall, probably the kids on the first floor.

“I am ! We finished making the cakes a few hours ago and they are de-li-cious.”, his eyes disappear as he smiles brightly, you decided you love this man with all your being.

“Ah, I can’t wait to taste them !”, you hum, switch your bag from your left hand to your right. Even without knowing what him and his wife did, you can at least guess without a doubt that it is going to be as delicious as he says it is.

“Just a day ! What are you making ?”

“French crêpes !”, you tell him while lifting your bag, proud smile at your pronunciation, you just went and bought some milk and flour for it right after leaving your university, Johnny told you he had everything else.

“Ah, yes, with our new neighbors, hm ?”, he starts, smile turning vicious and oh, you know where he’s going. You wonder if Jaehyun and him are working hand in hand. Let’s just say Jaehyun did not drop the subject, not when he learned you accidently ignored his texts the other night because of a movie night with the brunette. Not when you told him you think Johnny almost kissed you. Or hugged you.

“Yes.”, you tell him simply, not going any further. You hope he will drop the subject, but you know he probably won’t.

“We hear you two playing, but you should both play something together.”, Sangkyu tells you, not taking the hint or maybe, he decided to ignore it. But he is not wrong, you two should play something together. You have to say, you didn’t know your playing was so loud but if no one ever complained, it was a good thing, right ?

“We should.”, you tell him with a smile, ready to go towards the elevator, his voice stops you a second time.

“Do you like him ?”, he suddenly asks. God, he really is acting like a father who also wants to be a friend. You suddenly stop right in your track, hand turning towards the oldest.

“Who ?”, you ask dumbly, but Sangkyu isn’t one to take your fake attitude.

“Johnny.”, he tells you straight forward and a bit too loudly, arms leaning against his counter with a too happy smile.

“Sangkyun…”, you whine, quiet in case anyone walks in.

“Y/N-ah…!”, he mocks the tone of your voice and you whine even more.

“Come on, you can tell me.”, you says, you know he won’t ever let you go and even if he does, he’ll draw his own flowed conclusions, better tell him already.

“Maybe, yes.”, you tell the oldest before walking a bit too quickly towards your elevator, index jamming into the up button.

“I knew it !” and, when you hide yourself in the metal cubicle, you see your old friend making a few happy dance moves with his arms, you wonder if you’re seeing Jaehyun in the future.

“Alright, how’s this ?”, you ask Jaehyun after stepping right in front of your phone. You’re actually video chatting with your blonde friend, but you can barely see half of his face, he decided to hold his phone so close you could only see from his hairline to the bridge of his nose.

“Turn around.”, he says, breath overloading his device’s microphone. You do so anyways, showing him the outfit you decided to wear for tonight. Obviously, it was just a small gathering between neighbors, you didn’t have to go all in with a cocktail dress but, a nice and pretty one was expected. Following your friend’s order, you turn to show off a black, thin strapped, body hugging dress you got a year ago and yet, never wore.

“Is that your mom’s jacket ?”, Jaehyun asks, chewing on what you think is a handful of chips. You hum at the question, you’re indeed wearing the oversized jean jacket you mother used to wear when she was in college. “The dress looks hot, when did you buy it ?”

“Eh, last year ? Around the middle of the summer.”, you tell your friend, stepping out of your phone’s camera to search for your earrings. “Wait, you never wore it, right ?” “Nope.”, from a distance, you can hear Jaehyun mumbling something about you having too many clothes. Maybe he’s right, but you brush the remark anyways, taking your rings.

“How’s my makeup ?”, you ask, kneeling in front of your phone, you step closer to let the blonde have a closer look at your eyes makeup. “You know I don’t know shit about makeup !”, he complains, finally letting you see his face as he moves his phone. “Jaehyun, does it look good ?”, you ask him, acting annoyed at his antics.

“Yes, you look good.”, he says, voice somewhat a high pitched tone as he snaps a picture once you stand up again. “If lover boy doesn’t kiss you tonight.” Small smile stretches your lips at the compliment, you decide to brush the second sentence off, applying some lipstick before checking your watch.

“And you’re telling me he acted like nothing happened ?”, Jaehyun asks, sound of the chips bag covering his voice. You sigh at that, eyes rolling a little, you think no matter how many times you’ll tell him, he’ll keep asking. “He did. I mean, his roommate was there so, he couldn’t really…Y’know ?”

A quick glance at the bag you’re supposed to bring down to the gathering starting in fifteen minutes, it holds the dozens of crêpes you, Johnny and Ten made a bit earlier. Just like it was planned before hand, you showed up after class to their apartment, Ten was the one who opened the door. Apparently, Johnny was a bit late, his teacher’s lecture went on for a bit longer than anticipated and when he showed up, he immediately helped with the batter. The brunette greeted you like he usually would and acted like nothing happened the night before, though you don’t blame him, not when his roommate was between the two of you half of the time. You had to bring your own pan after realizing how many crêpes you’d actually make and, after about two hours, you left to get ready. Let’s just say Jaehyun was not happy with the lack of exciting events. You weren’t either, but you still somehow hoped something would happen tonight, somewhere deep in your thoughts. However, you didn’t want to think too much about it, tonight was a gathering to celebrate and have fun, you didn’t want to overthink what happened the night prior.

“Anyways, I have to go.”, you finally tell you friend, who simply tells you to enjoy yourself and text him after before hanging up.

Heavy bag of crêpes in your hand, you slide out of your apartment after spraying some perfume on your neck. Locking your door, your neighbors are quick to follow as you agreed to go together and, fuck.

He looks hot, Johnny looks hot. There’s a slight second where you stay silent and take in his figure, legs hugged by a tight pair of black jeans, cotton white blouse slightly open on his caramel chest, the golden hour isn’t even here and yet, the slight bit of sun hitting his skin makes him glow. You know, you know he caught you staring and yet he stays silent, slight smirk tugging a side of his full lips.

“Y/N, Ma’am !”, Ten’s voice drags you out of you reverie. The men takes a step closer, you notice the very pricy Yves Saint Laurent grey and white top he’s wearing. “You look fucking good ! Right ?”, it seemed the men only needed a few hours to get familiar with you, but you don’t complain and smile at the compliment.

“You do, you look amazing.”, if Ten managed to make you smile brightly at his antics, Johnny’s low voice only makes you blush and your eyes waver a bit, not knowing where to look, almost unable to keep eye contact with the tallest. “Thank you. I-, hm, you too.”

Great.

“Thank you. Let’s get going, I don’t want to be late.”, thankfully, he doesn’t say more, hand grabbing onto his own bag where you assume he has the chocolate and strawberry spread.

“Wait, what about me ?”, his roommate asks, acting so offended you wonder if he isn’t actually hurt by the lack of compliment you and his roommate showed. The smallest frowns, angry glare at Johnny who doesn’t even notice him as he went towards the elevator to call for the metal box.

“This shirt looks amazing on you, very pricy too.”, you tell your neighbor with a laugh, stepping right behind the tallest, waiting.

“And I already told you it looked good.”, he says, right before stepping in the elevator.

“Thank you, Y/N.”, the black haired says your name a bit louder, but you don’t pay too much attention either.

Poor thing, if you and Johnny aren’t aware yet of the tension, Ten sure is, and he hates every bit of it when he understands, stuck in an elevator where he’s the third wheel. By the way, has your elevator always been so small ? Your back leans against one wall as Johnny does the same right in front of you, honey eyes traveling from your eyes to your uncovered collarbones. The brunettes tries, he really tries to stop his eyes from traveling down but they do eventually, swallowing built up saliva when his pupils travel down your hips, to your naked legs.

Ten’s almost about to say something, just to break the thick silence before the doors opening saves the young men, he decides he definitely is not going to stay with the two of you tonight.

You, on the other side, seem to finally be able to breathe once you step out the elevator, Johnny’s attention did not go unnoticed. Try and act normal, probably the only thing going on your mind and Johnny’s.

“Hey, look who it is !”, Miss Jeon’s voice is heard before you can even see her. You’re familiar with the park the gathering is taking place in, but it sure looks amazing in the late afternoon. At this time of the year, the grass’ green, flowers bloomed, small fruits are starting to turn red under the summer sunlight. Even better, the water fountains are on, the one right in the middle is large, tall, multicolor lights when the moon shines. Finally, when you and your two friends turn the corner to enter the park, you’re physically greeted by Miss Jeon who’s wearing a really pretty pen skirt, hair flowing in the soft summer wind. “Miss Jeon !”, you greet her with a smile which isn’t enough for the lady who pulls you into a hug. One hand grabs yours and the tallest makes you swirl around, a high pitched “Wow ! Look at you !”, coming out of her lips.

“You look amazing, darling. You two, too.”, as always, the lady is extremely cheerful. You notice hers and other neighbors’ kids already playing around in the park, loud screams every now and then. A bit closer to the fountain, multicolor light are hanging from the threes, you can faintly distinguish a song playing. Large tables are set there, alongside chairs were parents and others are all talking together, setting whatever they bought.

“Go set everything there, we’ll start eating soon.”, Miss Jeon instructs, and you follow her orders as she stays in front of the park to greet anyone coming.

Everything is quickly set up where all the deserts are, neighbors come until you they flood the park, you almost think everyone’s here. “I did not expect so many people.”, Johnny tells you, taking a plastic cup to get himself some juice right before giving you a cup.

“Me neither.”, you tell him, eyes glazing over the last people walking in. Almost everyone responded to the call, a pretty heart warming sigh. Some of your neighbors you never actually talked to are here, mostly because they’re from other buildings from the same project.

“I see Ten is already making friends.”, you continue, eyes catching your friend talking to another neighbor, one you think is in his early thirties, you’ve talked to him once, maybe.

“Ten is a social butterfly.”, Johnny laughs into his cup, before eventually taking a step forward toward the black haired. If his roommate was going to socialize, he might as well too.

“I think it is overrated.”, ah yes, now you remember why you did not much to this guy. James is a foreign, blonde, man bun type of guy who finds everything overrated, it’s almost impossible to talk about your hobbies and interests with him without being ripped apart. He probably isn’t that mean just, not that good at social interaction. You see Ten’s expression turning from excited to somewhat confused, to what you intervene.

“What is ?”, you ask, and you don’t really like when the blonde acts like he did not notice you and Johnny walking.

“Oh, Y/N, hi. Long time no see.”, he says, not paying any attention to Johnny. You greet him anyways, slightly taken back by his attitude. “And you are ?”

“Johnny.”, the men behind you says, stretching a hand out to shake his.

“Oh, strong grip.”, slight contortion of the blond’s face, he quickly retracts his hand when Johnny lets go.

“Anyways, when are you letting me see you play ?”, James ask and oh, how you have to search in your memory to understand what the fuck he’s talking about. The blonde wants to learn how to play the guitar, that was, maybe eight months ago.

“Oh eh. One day, maybe.”, you awkwardly laugh.

“We hear you play every night, don’t say you don’t have time for me !”, he tries and laugh off the sentence. Ten shifts, poor thing seems taken back but thankfully, Johnny’s quick to react. As you’re about to respond, his hand slides on your waist, “I’m pretty busy with uni’, but I can send you some great guitarists’ videos.”, you choke out, mind slightly bugging at the brunette’s touch.

“She’ll let you know when she has time for you.”, the tallest does not hesitate and, it visibly annoys the blonde. A sharp “Okay .”, tumbles from his lips before he leaves towards the salty foods.

“He’s weird.”, Ten finally says, Johnny doesn’t take his hand away.

It takes hours for Johnny to address it again.

The midnight breeze always feels special, soft, fresh, it licks the thin layer of sweat the bolt sun created on your skin. Your jacket’s off your shoulders, loosely hanging on the crook of your elbows, seating on the cold marble of the fountain.

Soft sound of the water running behind you, all the kids have been sent to sleep, alongside their parents and other hard working adults needing of sleep, just the low sound of some jazz music you’re unfamiliar with and some chatter as the background noise.

You shoes kick off some small rocks and sand, eyes looking up at the multicolor lights still hanging on the trees. You laugh off one of Johnny’s joke, before he gets serious again, his left hand lightly touching the fountain’s water.

“By the way, sorry about earlier. I didn’t ask if I could touch you like that.”

You have to think for a slight second to understand what he’s talking about, hand grabbing onto the bowl of ice cream you set aside for yourself. Your spoon digs into the chocolate cream, taking a fair amount of whipped cream.

“Oh ! Oh, no. Don’t worry about it, I don’t mind.”, I liked it, you would’ve said if you were a little bit more brave. Spoon in your mouth, you eagerly gulp down the frozen desert, Johnny only softly smiles.

“Is he always like that ?”, he asks, body turning a bit more to face you. He’s close, really close, but it became normal. It became normal for him to have your naked thigh against his, you shamelessly look down at it for god knows how many times tonight. It became normal for you to almost be able to feel his breath die on your skin.

“I don’t know, tonight was the second time I ever talked to him.”, you tell him, tongue quickly cleaning the tiny drop of ice cream forming at the corner of your lips. Johnny stays silent for a second, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips, before its feels like he shakes his thoughts away. His gaze stays fixated on your eyes so confidently it’s even worst than him looking at your lips, you shift under his pupils, crossing a leg over the other.

“He seems really pushy.”, Johnny breathes out, and he finds the exact same octave he was speaking to you in just last night, right in front of his apartment. It’s clear he only is replying for politeness.

“You have hm, some ice cream, here.”, the brunette hums, again ripping you out of your reverie. Left hand covers your mouth, index and middle finger brushing at the corner but it seems you are not picking the right side.

“Wait, no-.”, he laughs for a quick second, crescent eyes before they shift to something else. His thumb quickly wipes the other side of your lips, and you freeze. You lock dead in your position, eyes slightly larger as he helps you clean up with a soft yet deep “There you go.”

For hours now, Johnny had been the only thing on your mind. From the moment he stepped out of his apartment, the moment his eyes seemed to devour every bit of your body, the moment he left is hand lingering on the small of your waist. To the moment he sat down to eat, legs, strong thighs spread, the moment he talked to the smallest kids from the second building, the moment he lead you behind the fountain with a hand in the small of your back.

But, when Johnny lets his lips capture the tip of his thumb, cleaning the bit of ice cream, you think you might never be able to think about anything else but him, but Johnny.

You have to look away, desperately trying to gather your thoughts, something you can’t do when the brunette’s looking at you with such innocent eyes.

“You okay ?”, he asks like he didn’t do anything, like he did not just do that.

“Yeah, I-.”, you have to leave you plastic bowl somewhere behind you, brain fuming to find something else to say.

“You’re blushing. You had the same look yesterday.”, he notes, and…He knows ? He knew before you did, that’s what his slight smirk tells you. “It’s a shame Ten had to ruin it, but I like this setting better.”, Johnny hums, but he never takes his eyes away.

“Could’ve kissed me anyways.”, you dare to say. Your mouth goes dry, for some reason, biting down on your bottom lip. The brunette comes a little closer, and just like last time, you can't help but get lost in his irises, notice the way his eyes curl at their inner corner, now how his pupils slowly eclipses the soft brown of his eyes.

Tongue poking at the inside of his cheek, his lines a bit closer again, hand sliding under your chin. You stop breathing for a second, eyelids involuntarily growing heavy.

“Did I miss my shot ?”, you can almost feel him mouth the words.

“Maybe, but I can give you another one.”, you manage to tease, face tilting to the side before he even does anything. If he doesn't do it himself, you'll break the distance, but he holds you in the palm of his hand, so hypnotise under his spell you can only anticipate his next move.

“Good, would've hated myself for missing it.”, he says and, as you hoped, the brunette finally lets his lips crash against yours. It's soft, a kiss to taste the water, though he himself taste the chocolate you just ate.

Pillows lips slowly starts moving against yours, you easily follow his rhythm, sighing when his hand moves from your chin to your neck, deepening the exchange.

Your hand easily finds his hair, finally letter your fingers grasp onto the soft locks. It's a soft grip, yet Johnny sighs softly against your lips, sound turning into a slight groan once you bite down on his bottom lip.

That does it for him, the kiss quickly turns needy, desperate, he touches where he can, second hand lightly running up your thigh.

Arms wrap behind his neck to keep him close, body leaning backwards, Johnny has to plant a hand on the marble behind you, second hand wrapping behind your waist.

The brunette doesn't hesitate a second more, like he's afraid of letting go of the moment, afraid you're gonna slip away between his fingers like the clear water of the fountain. Pick tongue laps at your bottom lip, you part them without a moment of hesitation. It's eager, rushed, the taste of the desert you just ate still lingers on your tongue while you get the fruity drink he was sipping on moments before.

Finally, when you have to let go for some air, breathing altered by the exchange, Johnny doesn't let go. Long kisses are planted at the corner of your lips, he takes his time until he travels down to your jaw where you stop him.

And, before he can ask you anything, you quickly grab his hand in yours, “Let's go inside.”

He follows quickly behind, leaving everything behind, you take the second gate of the park. Shorter, you also don't have to walk in front of all your remaining neighbors like this, lips swollen, eyes blown.

You don't think you've ever walked so fast to your apartment, you don't think you've ever been so happy to see Sangkyu's spot vacant.

The silence is heavy, breath still uneven when you push the button of the elevator and the doors open immediately.

If you didn't know the men behind you was as desperate as you were, you definitely understand once he pushed you inside the small cubicle.

He blindly pushes the button to your shared floor, right hand wrapping around your throat to swiftly push you against the cold wall. If he doesn't tighten his grip, you sure wish he did, but you have other things to care about at the moment. The hand previously around your neck plants itself right next to your hand and this time, he has to lean down to capture your lips another time.

Completely pinning your body to the cold metal, he uses his hips against yours, a gasp escaping your lips he uses to slip his tongue between your lips again. And, you let a breathy moan come out of your lips when he pushes his hips flush against your, hard on pressing against your body. Even with the two layers, you can feel him.

You never felt so hot inside this elevator, it moves without stopping at any floor, no music as the silence is filled by your soft breaths and the sound of his mouth against yours.

Beat washes over you, if your panties weren't ruined already, they sure are now. Now that the brunette rolls his hips, slowly, tentatively slow, just to make you feel every inch. Your mind's clouded, body reacting by itself when it archs away from the wall.

He lets his forearm rest against the metal wall, about to travel down to your neck, hips grinding against yours.

When he's about to bite down on the skin of yours neck, teeth grazing over the flesh, the doors open to your floor.

It's Johnny's turn to grab onto your hand, pulling you out of the elevator but he never stays too long away from your body.

Full lips pepper kisses on your face, before he breathes out against your skin.

“Your apartment, yeah ?”

Obviously, you want to tell him, naturally walking towards your door.

“Unless you want your roommate to walk in on us.”, you let a breathy giggle out, facing your door.

Fuck, now out of all times, you can not find your keys. Maybe it's because your shaky hands can barely search your pockets. Hard to blame yourself when the brunette stands behind you, hard cock pressed against you, arms tightly wrapped around your stomach, face buried in your neck.

“Baby, they're here.”, the tallest hums, voice so low it vibrates against your skin. His right hands pats one of your front pockets. A simple “Oh.” tumbles from your lips at that, mind hardly registering the way he still his moving against your body, nickname rolling out of his tongue too easily.

Finally, you manage to force your key into your door, quickly twisting the metal piece before you push the door open.

This time, you don't know if you pull Johnny in your apartment or if he pushes you in, the door is loudly shut before the men tries to take your near your coach, as you drop your jacket off somewhere.

“Johnny.”, you try to whine, but it comes out as a breathy moan as the men soflty sucks on the skin between your neck and shoulder, a pale purple petal blooming. His name coming from your lips sounds oh so delicious, Johnny decides he loves the way it sounds, determined to hear it again and again, louder and louder. “Let me at least close the door.”

When he lets you do so, not whitout a pout on his lips, they find yours again in a desperate kiss, hands grabbing the back of your thighs.

“This dress looks so fucking good on you.”, he growls once you let him pick you up, black fabric riding up your thighs.

“Got dressed up for you.”, you confess, your own lips traveling down his neck when the brunette sits down on your coach. He chuckles lowly, head rolling back, humming at the small attentions you're giving him. “Hm, saw you putting your makeup on and knew you'd look ravishing.”, he says.

Large hands on your hips, Johnny easily pushes your hips down on his thigh.

“Wow, I'll make sure to pull my curtains next time.”, you tease, blooming flowers on his collarbones.

“Give me a fucking show next time.”, he growls out, hand ghosting over your neck before his thumb traces your bottom lip again.

You almost freeze, mere thought of following his oder the next time you catch him in front of his window a little bit too appealing. Having him so close yet, too far to feel his touch, you already felt it for days.

“Come on, ride my thigh.”, you moan out.

Forceful hands help you find a rhythm, one you easily follow once your thoughts get over your dizzy mind. You mouth hands open, hands grabbing onto his arms at the sudden gesture. Johnny only smirks, an eyebrow arching up.

If he didn't before, he sure does look like a god at this very moment. Blown out pupil look directly into your eyes, honey color you know so well eclipsed. Swollen, red lips, a hue painted over his cheeks, small love bites trialing down. Soft brown hair messy by your hands.

“What ? You think I didn't see you glaring ?”, there's a slight mocking tone in his voice, slight embarrassment washing over you but your body follows his voice anyways. Strong thigh under your core, you can barely gather words to reply, it's even harder when he flexs his muscles under you.

Your hips rocks back and forth, delicious pressure against your nub but you need more, more than just his thigh. He has everything to offer and if you don't get it now, you might go crazy.

And so, you tell him. “Johnny, need more.”, your voice sure sounded a lot less weak but the men obliges.

“Impatient little thing.”, he gestures towards your room, and when think you might not be able to walk all the way there without him pushing you against another wall, you surprisingly do.

When you turn around and crawl up your bed, Johnny's quick to follow, hands gripping onto the fabric covering his back before he pulls it over his head.

Defined abs under his caramel skin, strong arms holding himself up, you need a moment to take everything in, hands running down his chest when he hover over your body.

“Take it off.”, he demands, voice almost strict. Leg over his hip, you barely use any force to change positions.

You sit on his lap a second time, supporting yourself on your knees to take off your dress. The brunette uses his elbows, mouth parting when you pull the fabric over your hips. He barely needs any support to sit up, hands grasping the black dress to help you take the fabric off entirely.

The brunette mumbles praises into your skin, lips ghosting over your neck, hands touching wherever they can. Desperate, he maps your body, learning every curve, every inch.

“So beautiful.”, he mumbles out, before his right hand traces the line of your panties.

They're soaked, wet patch on his black jeans and he doesn't fail to notice.

“Already so wet, hm ? Fuck, can I ?”, he doesn't hesitate once you give him your verbal permission, a finger running over your folds over the light fabric.

What a simple touch can do to you, you don't doubt the men doing it also has a huge part in it, but you shiver under the slight attention.

Biting down on his bottom lip, ring clapped hand dips into your panties, where his index and middle finger gather your juices, humming contently.

You're about to complain again, ask him to do something already but he beats you at it, both fingers effortlessly sliding between your lower lips.

“Fuck, ah— Johnny.”, hands gripping his shoulders, your eyes screw shut once he finds a slow and torturing pace, moving in and out as his thumb brushes over your bud.

It's sensual, burning, one hand travels down his chest until you're met with his jeans, quickly working on them once he nods.

You curse his tight jeans for a moment before he helps you push the fabric just enough, alongside his grey briefs.

And fuck, he's big. You knew when he grinded against your inner thigh, but the way his cock slaps against his stomach, head red and hungry, has your mouth parting, core clenching against his fingers.

“Shit, yeah. Good girl, right there.”, Johnny loses himself in praises, head rushing with thoughts he groans out once your hand wraps around his length.

It's probably the honest thing you've ever seen, Johnny's head rolls back, it hits the wall of your bedroom, Adam's appel bobbing up and down. The pace of his fingers matches the rhythm of your hand around his cock, eyes slightly opening just to watch your slender fingers around him and the way you take his.

“You're so fucking tight, god.”, a third finger goes alongside and you have to pose, jaw hanging open and the brunette can not resist.

His mouth finds yours again, kisses deep, messy, hurried. It's like his starving, he growl against your mouth when your thumb runs over his slit and your hips move against his fingers.

“Fuck, wanna taste you.”, he flips you over too easily, a gasp coming out of your lips when you back harshly hits your bed.

Strong hands gripping at your panties, your hear the sharp snap of the elastic breaking under his soaked fingers.

“Johnny !”, it's between a whine and a moan, how can him ruining your panties be so fucking hot.

“Will get you new ones if you want.”, you can barely recognise his voice, his fingers slide the fabric down and he looks up at you, eyes hungry, lips red.

“You have no fucking idea how hard I was when I found your panties.”, he confesses and, before you can reply, his mouth dives in. Tongue flat against your core, your legs instinctively close around his head, but his hands are quick to pin your thighs to the mattress while yours find his hair, messing it even more.

“Yeah ? Fuck, you're so good, your tongue feels so good.”

Johnny only hums, tongue running up and down until he wraps his lips around your button of nerves. The brunette's eating you out like a starved men, shamelessly, the wet sounds filling the room.

When he takes a break to breathe, he pops his fingers into his mouth, cleaning them.

“Taste so good.”, every word he says fires your body up even more, his mouth doesn't even need to speak for it to affect you, but you need him.

He dives a second time, fingers joining this time. Pace a lot less slow, his lips wrap around your bud a second time, focusing on the small button while his fingers quickly move.

In, out, in, out. Long fingers quickly build up the tension in your stomach, cold rings contrasting with his hot breath.

You only need a little bit more, when his fingers curl the right way, his groans vibrate at the right moment. Your fingers tighten around his locks as you come undone, loudly, unapologetically.

Wet lips, glossy eyes, Johnny looks at your figure as you arch your back away from your bed, moaning into the air.

It takes almost minutes for you to come down but, when you do, Johnny's about to dive a third time. Your hand stops his head.

“Want you inside, want to feel you.”, you tell him once you pulled him towards you face again. A quick kiss is planted on your lips where you can taste yourself, before he hides his face again in your neck, breathing heavily.

“Do you have a condom ?”, he asks, blown out eyes looking into your own.

You nod quickly, pointing at your bed table. You hear the brunette thanking the gods, he didn't want to have and walk all the way to his own appartement to get one. Leaning towards the said bed table, he pulls the small door open and find the box there.

Taking a little foil package between his lips, Johnny quickly closes the small door before hovering over you again.

Pearly teeth are used to open the packaging, he doesn't wait a second to roll the material out on his hard shaft, sighing slightly.

“So tiny, can you even take me ?”, it seems the brunette asks himself, hand jerking himself off.

You answer him anyways, “I can, please.”.

Soft smile on his lips, the brunette uses his hand to align himself with your drenched core.

The tallest thought about this very moment for hours the night before, but nothing prepared him for the tightenes, your wet, hot core wrapping around his head.

You both moan in almost unison, Johnny has to hold himself from slamming in. You, on the other hand, have a hard time wrapping your head around how he's stretching you out so nicely.

A mixture of pleasure and slight pain you're quickly addicted to. A hand claws at his back, the tallest moves inch, by inch, by inch.

“So fucking tight. When's the last time someone fucked you properly ?”, his sudden change in behaviour gives you whiplash, you can only whine at his question and mumble something about not knowing when, exactly.

“Please, fuck me.”, if you have to beg, you will but thankfully, Johnny doesn't have much patience tonight. Once he's fully in, he doesn't hesitate to pull out just to ram in. Your body rides up, head thrown back, moan silent.

“Gonna fuck you nice and deep. Stretch you, yeah ?”

You can only nod eagerly, Johnny laughs breathlessly. His forearm supports his body right next to you head, necklace hanging over your body, right hand tightly holding your hip.

He barely gives you the time to adjust, hips snapping at a steady pace.

Headboard sharply knocking against your wall, your thankful your neighbors aren't here. Still sensitive, your moans turn breathless, barely audible. Forehead against your own, Johnny doesn't hide his moans, your name, any profanities coming to his mind.

“Fuck, turn around for me, baby.”, breathless, chest irregularly moving up and down, he helps you do so after moving out.

Flipping you on your stomach, the brunette curses at himself a second time. His body flush against yours, he supports himself next to your head again, second hand affectionaly running in your hair.

He takes you from behind, cock easily sliding in this time. Moans hidden in your pillow, Johnny doesn't take that, using the hand locked in your locks to turn your head.

“Don't hide your moans, wanna hear you.”

Just like he wanted after stepping into your apartment, the tallest has you whining his name, loudly, until you're numbed, fucked dumb until his name's the only thing you know.

A snap of his hips reaches deeper, it's there you feel the tension threatening to break.

It's like he can read you, he does it again, breathy laugh coming out of his lips.

“Come around me, let go. Let go for me.”, it's all you need, you easily follow his order, core tightening around his shaft.

“God, your pussy’s gripping me.”, his hips alter, lips finding yours again. “Gonna make me come so hard.”

Fucked out, yet you managed to raise your hips, core clenching around him. That does it, loud growl resonates in the room, mixed in with your name.

“Are you okay ?”, Johnny asks, voice soft after he pulls out, throwing the condom in your bin.

You hum, too tired to answer, you smile nonetheless when he takes you into his arm, arm pushing your hair to the side.

“This isn't how I wanted things to go.”, he hums, picking a fallen eyelash from your cheek.

“Oh, really ?”, you ask, tired, his hand running up and down your spine putting you to sleep.

“Wanted to take you out on a date first.”, he admits. “But how do you want me to resist when you were calling me like a siren singing at a lone traveler.”

© NEOVISIONED l NO REPOSTING OR TRANSLATIONS ALLOWED.

[hawklanstargazer]

Fractured Diamond Chapter 4

(TW: Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault)

Mondo didn't know how long he sat there. He could see no indication of light anywhere in the room, although the cloth tied around his eyes didn't help either. The gang figured a blindfold would provoke more fear, thus better reactions, better screams. Not that it would even matter, Mondo couldn't even see if he wanted to. His left eye was swollen shut, and his right was sealed under a thick line of blood from his forehead. He figured the gang preferred it anyway for twisted aesthetic purposes. The cement chamber had proven to be soundproof, so it wasn't like he could call for help anyway, his throat felt like sandpaper. Every breath he was forced to take was agonizing, even shallow ones were labor. Every time his chest expanded was as if his ribs were stabbing him through his lungs and sides, fractures creaking against each other like an old wooden door. Breathing through his mouth would result in him gagging blood from where his rear teeth used to be, only furthering his burning chest. Breathing through his nose was his only choice, forcing him to take in the horrid stench of blood, sweat, and urine that lingered in the air. He remembered their jeers before leaving him in his "pigsty". He should've been humiliated, but breathing was taking up all the energy he had left. 

No one was coming for him. And why would they? What samaritan would wanna fought off one of the most dangerous gangs in Japan to save some lowly biker who probably screwed them over somehow? Was this the price for being in a gang? For being a Diamond? No, he wasn't a Diamond. Not anymore. Or maybe he never was. 

'Just a shiny piece of glass, shiny piece of glass, shiny piece of glass...'

Intrusive thoughts were nothing new to Mondo they were his only company at this time. Every taunting word stuck to his brain like a hair on honey. Not once did he try to shake them out. At first, he did, but eventually learned to like it. Like a dog learning his name, Mondo learned his place in the world. 

A faint but alerting metal clashing against a concrete wall crawled its way through Mondo's intrusive thoughts, he was too familiar with it by now. His body instinctively curled in on itself as much as his bindings and injuries would allow, which wasn't much, prepared to take whatever beating he was about to receive.

'...notadiamondnotadiamonddnotadiamondnotadiamondnotadiamond...'

Mondo wheezed in a small whimper as inside and outside voices blended in his skull. "..Okay...I...I get it..!" he slurred in a half-sob "I...I'm not a Diamond..! Okay..?! I get it...! You were right..!"

'notadiaMondnotadiamOndnotadiamoNdnotadiamonDnotadiamOnd..'

He jumped as something or someone grazed his bruised face. He cried out as loud as his broken ribs would let him. "S-stop...! I'm sorry, okay?! Jus...just lemme...lemme...d..!"

"--MONDO!"

He felt something touch his cheek again, but something felt different. Familiar. He hadn't realized his blindfold had been removed when he forced his swollen eye to open. He almost believed what he saw was real. 

Daiya, his brother, standing before him at eye level. His figure was silhouetted from the illuminated doorway, but there was no doubt it was him, Mondo recognized those sunset-orange eyes anywhere, glistening like dim but burning embers. But something was off about his face. It seemed to be stretched in an expression Mondo wasn't familiar with. Panic? That wasn't a face Daiya was known for. He always kept a cool front, no matter how fucked the situation was. His thick, black eyebrows were always furrowed, and his lips in a permanent half-smile to assure anyone he's ready to take on anything. So why does he look so scared? Mondo could see his lips moving, and it only took a moment to finally snap out of his daze and hear his brother.

"--ondo! Can you hear me?" he moved Mondo's crimson-caked bangs from over his eye, and Mondo was finally able to open it. 

"Gnhh...D-Daiya..?" he said in a hoarse whisper

Daiya rested his chin on his chest as he heaved a brief sigh of relief. "Thank god, thought I lost ya there, Lil bro." he half-chuckled, "It's okay, you're safe. We're gonna get you out."

'We?', Mondo thought.

As if hearing his thoughts, Daiya turned behind him and called out. "Michi, guys, he's over here! Come help me out with this!" 

"Got it!"

Another voice. Mondo recognized it; Takemichi, their youngest brother. Mondo was still trying to fathom it all, but there wasn't any room for doubt. This was all real, happening right before him, and he could not be more ashamed. 

Takemichi's darkened figure appeared through the doorway and froze where he stood, eyes fixed on Mondo. "Holy shit..." he breathed. Michi hasn't been in the gang for very long, probably less than a year now. He was still a middle schooler, still had some childlike innocence in him that was reignited after he ran away from his abusive household and found a new home with the Diamonds. Daiya wanted to preserve that innocence as much as possible, keeping Michi away from the action when things got bloody. So much, he wanted the boy to stay at the base while they rescued Mondo, but his stubbornness was like that of an ox. He was a Diamond, after all. Most times, Mondo believed him to be more so than himself.

An orchestra of boots stomping grew heavier and heavier until the room was flooded with Diamonds, all exchanging looks of shock and even concern when they saw the room and Mondo's fragile form. It was overwhelming, for them to see Mondo so pathetically mounted like this, like a prisoner, the fact that this image of him will be burned into their brains forever, Mondo felt as though he could just die right then and there if the universe showed him a glimmer of mercy. 

"Woah, stand back, guys." Takemichi directed the other gang members, "Give him some air. We only need a few men in here."

Daiya peeked over his shoulder to meet eyes with the gang. "You heard 'im. Clear out," he said in a stern tone, firm enough to command his team but soft enough not to frighten Mondo. Understanding the order, most of the members left while only a select few remained. Michi turned to Mondo and have him a reassuring smile before going to help Daiya. 

Mondo felt the two crouched on each side under his arms as the other Diamonds cut through the rope binding his wrists. Losing the support of the rope, he fell and would've crashed onto the concrete if Daiya and Michi weren't ready to catch him. He wished it was comforting as it was, but their support reignited his bodily pain. Crouching forward brought agony to his ribs, but straightening up burned the cuts on his back. He let out a dry painful groan. As if remembering, Daiya quickly reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a water bottle, offering it to Mondo's lips. Mondo winced at the sight of the object, visions of past events screamed in his head, but his thirst screamed louder as he chugged the bottle. 

"Woah, hey. Easy, bro, easy." Daiya cooed softly, as he directed Mondo to drink slower. He didn't blame him one bit but knew Mondo would only feel worse if he chugged it. Taking his time savoring the liquid, Mondo had finished the bottle, sighing a relaxed breath as best as his burning lungs would allow. 

Daiya returned the empty bottle to his pocket. He gazed at the rope still loosely binding Mondo's wrists and gently removed them. He winced at the raw ligature wounds, old and new blood alike, coating Mondo's skin. He heard Mondo weakly hiss in pain. He only dared to look at the rest of his body. That didn't matter now, the only thing that did was getting his brother out of this hellhole. "I'm sorry, bro..." he breathed softly. 

Letting Mondo's head rest wearily on his shoulder, Daiya scooped him up in his arms as if he were carrying him to bed when Mondo was a little kid. As they left the room, Mondo felt Daiya nonchalantly step over something, probably some fallen furniture, though judging by the disgruntled expression plastered on Daiya's face and the faint groan under his feet, Mondo figured it was more like someone. The hallway was littered with limp beaten figures of Reapers, only Diamonds standing above them, pinning them down under their feet, giving them a boot to the face if they so much as twitch. Mondo glanced at Daiya's bruised and bloodied knuckles. Of course, his brother wouldn't go on without caving in a few faces of his own. Daiya stopped in his tracks when heard a wet cough behind him, his scowl grown deeper.

"Hey, Owada..!" Several feet away from the Diamond leader lay the grey-clad Reaper leader, beaten and broken. One of the larger Diamonds stood above him with his foot on his neck, although judging by the man's unnaturally bent knee, it was apparent he couldn't return to his feet even if he wanted to, the stance was more for physical empowerment than provided security. The grey man spat out a few bloodied teeth before continuing. "How does it feel...when you lose a brother..?" he wheezed painfully but sternly. "Bet it makes ya feel...fuckin' powerless, knowin' you... coulda done some'in ta prevent it..! My brother...is gone...and so's...yer's. Tell me...how does it feel..?"

Daiya stood strong and firm as a diamond, his expression hadn't faltered. Barely even breathed.

The grey man growled, face contorted in hatred. "What? Ya don't remember me..?" his scowl turned into a sinister smirk. "He does."  

Daiya glanced down at Mondo's body curling up in reminiscent fear. He could only pray those words had an empty meaning. Still, he couldn't help but recall how fragile and painfully Mondo fell to his knees as if he were suffering from a terrible stomach ache. Bile crept up Daiya's throat. 

The man noticed the reaction and his grimace twisted further, showing bloodied teeth. "He knows my name. I...made sure...he never forgets it. He was...beggin' me ta stop, y'know. Beggin' for you...ta save 'im. His whimpers were so...beautifully pathetic. I wish...I recorded it for ya. But I figured it'd be better if ya...imagined it yerself. If ya didn't...drag ya feet, maybe...he'd still be your brother. But now...he's my pet." he let out a wet chuckle as he saw Mondo tremble like a leaf in Daiya's tensed arms. "Go on, boy...tell 'im..! Jog 'is memory..! Say my--" 

"Sasaki!"

Came a deep voice. Mondo would've thought he said that if his throat wasn't already so torn up from screaming that cursed name, his lips couldn't even form the word. He looked up at his brother's discontented face. Surely, he didn't. Another wet laugh from behind. A sharp pain shot through Mondo's heart. 

"So, you do know! Good boy!" the grey man cackled. "Try an' remember that now...! Remember the name...of the man who destroyed you and your brother..! I would say we're even...but there's no reason I can't still have fun with your gang..!" Daiya could feel Sasaki's eyes shift over to Takemichi. "Like him. He's fresh. Doesn't matter if 'e's...just a kid...He's in a gang...an' is better to...learn the hard way. Are you broken yet, Daiya Owada? Or do I...have--"

"Just shut the fuck up and listen, Reaper," Daiya growled, making it clear he wasn't finished talking. The grey man listened on, slightly disappointed at the white-clad man's retaliation. Daiya turned to gaze down at the man with eyes burning like the sun.

"I killed your brother Chisaki." his words flew from his mouth as if it were the most natural thing ever to be said. No hesitation, no remorse, not even a hint of regret. Mondo blinked and looked up at his brother. He couldn't remember the last time Daiya said something so cold, or if he ever heard him speak that way at all. Still, Daiya's eyes hadn't left his target. 

"He didn't seem to get my last message about staying out of our turf. He knew what he was risking when he crossed our path. And he paid for it. I pulled the alarms, I alerted the cops, and I left you all to die. I trust you and your colleagues have enough pattern recognition not to follow in his footsteps. Do what your brother couldn't do, and stay out of our way. If I ever see you or any Reapers on the streets again, it's kill on sight. Consider this business and personal." 

The grey man shuddered but let out a low, blood-curdling growl. "Do it, then!" he coughed and wheezed. "I ain't goin' nowhere, so...ya might wanna finish the job now! Kill me, an' there'll be no more Reapers, no one ta take my place..! So, do it! Kill me!" 

Daiya didn't turn back, nor did he respond. He just walked away, his gang followed, leaving the grey man broken on the ground. 

"Come back an' finish this like a man, Daiya Owada!" Sasaki cried, struggling to pry himself from the floor but to no avail. He heaved in one shaky breath after another as something wet splashed on his hand. 

Daiya heard one last pathetic scream as the door slammed behind him.

"OWADA!" 

[lunar-writings-love]

College!AU - Hongjoong (ateez)

ahaha so i’m baaaack ;; super sorry for all the inactivity babes life has been weighing down on all of us i’m sure and i needed some time! This is the next installment of the college!au ateez series, and although i had planned to have hongjoong last, y’all requested him so much i wrote him next and changed the order around! 

Author’s note: Bullet fic, 

Warnings: like a drop of angst if u squint ?? the word sh!t appears one time i think

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hongjoong:

he’s so cute i’m Sad

ok so Joongie is just so loved, so treasured by everyone ,, every time he enters into a room everyone just 🥺

he’ll walk into a room looking all sleepy in overalls or something and literally everyone’s parental instincts awaken from the depths of college emotional indifference and suddenly ,, 

there’s world peace it’s a sight to see 

so, our Hongjoongie is actually a double major!! 

he’s a world lit major, and he’s minoring in gender studies so his emphasis is on analyzing feminist texts 

more often than not, the best way to find hongjoong is to just go to the library on the south side of campus at odd hours at night and you’ll usually find him buried underneath a pile of books ;; (and more often than not he’ll also be sleeping because baby can’t stay awake to save his life ://) 

But he really does love his major ,, and If u let him ,  he’ll rave hours and hours about literature; analyzing them through historical context, societal reflection, the role of women, writing style..... 

....he just loves what he does and it makes everyone around him love him for it too!! 

He always has extensive talks with Yeosang (an english major who took a lot of lit classes with hongjoong hint go read the yeosang!au) on american 19th century feminist writings

they started their own book club and it’s literally just them two, no other members allowed, and all they do is eat finger sandwiches and shit on misogynistic men we sTAN

HoWEVer, although hongjoong’s work in literature is impressive and respected, he’s probably better known for his second major: 

music composition!

music is the love of his life ,,, no buts there’s nothing he’ll love more than his art (except maybe you aha ha ha ;)

and people knew him around campus becaaaauseeeeee ,,,,, he would usually ,,, dj at frat parties... 

it wasn’t something he particularly liked, but hey money is money.

in all seriousness though, when hongjoong wasn’t reading or writing papers, he was glued to his mac producing tracks and writing lyrics 

the only thing was ,,, he didn’t actually sing any of what he wrote 

he never thought his own voice suited his songs, and would much rather sit on the sidelines moving along the creative direction 

and although the boys usually are the ones to sing his demos,, joongie always felt like something was still ,,, missing 

this is where u come in wink wonk 

you’re just a lowly econ major who surprisingly !! doesn’t !! want !! to start your own fortune 500 company :DD !! wow so rare :) 

anYWaYS,, you’re just doing it cuz your parents pressured you into pursuing a career with stable job opportunities and you’re kinda good at math and graphs soooo 

....why not 

but to be honest, you always felt trapped 

you were never able to stop that feeling of impending doom when you’d open your macro-econ textbooks ,,,

or how your heart hurt when you think about the fact that your life is headed straight to an incredibly mundane future :

a desk job, an overpriced apartment that barely has enough room for you, living in constant air pollution from the city’s high carbon emissions, never finding true love, dying alone with 50 cats,  taxes...you get the drift

you usually pushed those thoughts to the back of your mind, negativity isn’t productive and right now you had a world economics midterm to study for

but..

not that you’d ever admit it, your true passion had always been music 

you weren’t the best composer, you knew just enough piano to get you but; but you had a set of PIPES dAmN

your friends could usually find you at the dorm’s music rooms ,, and whenever you felt stress or needed to unwind, you’d usually head over to those rooms

now ,,, these rooms are soundproof // but the trick is you actually have to close the door cuz if u don’t......

everyone can hear you 

and by everyone I mean the entire floor

you were doing your usual thing at the music room one night when one of your friends came in to let you know everyone would be heading over to dinner soon,, u promised only one more song before meeting them upstairs on your dorm floor 

hoWEVeR, U DIDN’T REALIZE THAT WHEN YOUR FRIEND WALKED AWAY THEY LEFT THE DOOR OPEN 

and soo ,, when u started singing again  //// everyone heard 

and by everyone i mean ???!?

hongjoong :))

and it was love at first sight ,,, or rather 

,, love at first listen??

he won’t ponder over the semantics, all Hongjoong knew was that he had been looking for a voice like yours and needed you on his tracks 

this man barged into the room and begged you to lend your voice for his songs 

...on his knees :00

you were in shock like what were you supposed to do?

this random man stormed in and got on his knees ,, 

what was next ??

marriage ????

u didn’t really say anything for a while just kinda looked him in his eyes 

but then your uwu instincts kicked in--u don’t know what it is about this dude but u just wanna like give him candy or something 

and so you hesitantly asked for his name 

and that’s when hongjoong realized he was an IDIOT 

because not only was your voice heavenly, but of course you were cute too and he just presented himself like a complete and utter maniac and He Didn’T eVEN bOTHER To TelL You hIS NAme!

he wanted the ground to swallow him up but alas 

he got off his knees and shyly stuck out his hand and told you his name 

you looked at him once again ,, and surprisingly 

you took his hand with a small smile on your face 

you ended up totally forgetting about dinner with your friends at the dining hall 

because hongjoong sat beside you on the piano bench and showed you his songs and lyrics, and you....fell in love <3

you’d never connected with anyone on this type of emotional level before and it was almost sort of overwhelming 

it also kinda gave you hope too ,, because here was Hongjoong ,, someone who managed to get the best of both worlds : a music and a lit degree

and you thought that maybe ,, you could do something with music too 

you guys exchanged numbers and scheduled to meet at the university’s recording studio that weekend 

Hongjoong composed a track and you added your own lyrics with his help--after two weeks of mixing, mastering, producing, and recording ,,, you guys officially released a single!!

you really weren’t expecting it, but hongjoong was a bit of a social butterfly and so the song became a hit on campus 

people were uploading it to their social media, sharing it with friends, playing it while they worked out, it was kinda ridiculous to you 

the student paper even wrote an article about it (and later you found out that the journalist was one of hongjoong’s friend’s girlfriend ,, (hint go read the yunho!au)

And when the song reached 10,000 streams, that gave you the confidence to do what you had always wanted to do 

you called your parents up on a Saturday morning to tell them you were picking up a vocal performance major 

you were extremely anxious for this conversation, so Hongjoong decided to stay by your side for moral support 

As both of you waited with baited breath for your parents’ response, Hongjoong was also right there just ,, holding your hand so sweetly,, and that was driving YOU INSANE 

(because in these past couple of months you had gotten to know Hongjoong you had mostly definitely, absolutely, completely fallen head over heels for him)  

after a long moment of silence, your parents agreed 

they weren’t too happy about it, but they also weren’t as against it as you thought they’d be--the only condition was that you’d continue with econ and instead double major 

it would honestly be hard considering the amount of mandatory classes and performances required of the vocal performance major, but you were too happy to care 

after your goodbyes with your parents, you looked over to Hongjoong with the biggest smile on your face 

and it just,, absolutely melted his heart 

before he could stop himself he just wrapped his arms around you and twirled you around

and then :) he gave you the softest kiss on your cheek 

of course, after it dawned on him what he had done, he instantly turned red and started chucking nervously as he stuttered his words 

but for you, the newfound confidence and ADRENALINE after your successful phone call with your parents, you grabbed both sides of his face and asked him if you could kiss him 

Hongjoong was wide-eyed but LIKE HELL he would pass up this up 

so after muttering out a shy yes, y’all kissed awwww :))

and after that, you guys became a couple! 

you’d show up to the frat parties he would DJ at and would always dance like an idiot with wooyoung in the corner of the room 

and you and hongjoong would always partner up for music composition and performance projects: Hongjoong would write the tracks and you’d sing for them

you guys were honestly such a soft couple 

you also picked up the habit of studying sleeping at the library with hongjoong because double majoring was hard and it required a lot of work

and it just, now became a thing for people to always find you along with Hongjoong sleeping under a pile of books 

you guys kept on releasing more singles after that, and are currently working on an EP!

and honestly, you were so incredibly happy 

you had the most amazing boyfriend, and you were pursuing your passion 

and you felt just a little bit better knowing that your future was unclear

you no longer pictured yourself at a desk job, living out an absolutely dreadful life 

instead, you finally realized the multitude of opportunities at your disposal

and with Hongjoong by your side, you just knew everything in life would work out in the end!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

FEEL FREE TO REQUEST!

Love you guys! Stay safe and healthy!!

- Luna

[ussgallifrey]

Change of Plans

✦ Summary: Bucky really wants to give you a good Valentine's day, but sometimes even the best thought plans don't work out the way you thought they would. ✦ Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader ✦ Warnings: Mentions of menstruating and periods ✦ Word Count: 3.3k

There was something about the girl, who made his heart thud with a continuous home home home, that made Bucky desperately want to get this right. 

At the admission that you'd never celebrated the holiday with a partner before, which was said nonchalantly over a shared pizza, he was absolutely determined to change that. Sure, you'd only been together seven months - give or take a few days - but there was just something about you that made all the little signals in his head go off all at once and his tongue would tie up and he felt hopelessly dumbstruck at the sight of your smile like all the time.

He was crazy about you. That's all.

And because of that, he wanted to do something for the 14th. Nothing overly insane, like dinner in Paris with fireworks at the Eiffel Tower. Though, if you asked, he would have no qualms about absconding a quinjet and flying you there on the spot. But that is definitely not your taste - not even close.

But you deserve flowers and chocolates and a card and probably one of those giant pink teddy bears with the heart that says XO-XO that you were cooing and awwing over in CVS last week. And, God help him, he might even attempt to make dinner. 

Yeah, he's got it bad for you.

And waking up in the same bed this morning, with the knowledge that my place or your place? had finally ended at long last and that this was how he got to wake up almost every day. Well, it just about made his heart thump out of his chest and wouldn't that be a messy cleanup?

So, he's pleased as punch with himself when he can hear the happy little aww coming from the bedroom later that morning. He's obviously been up for hours already, attempting to throw together something edible in the kitchen while you slept away unawares.

You're a sight to see, as he leans against the bedroom door frame. Still under the covers, but sitting up enough to smell the vase of fresh flowers on your nightstand.

"You devil," you chide with a tired smile and a beckoning hand.

Bucky's more than happy to thread his fingers through yours as you pull him down next to you.

"When did you do this?"

He wants to kiss you.

"Had some time," he says instead, cupping a hand to your flushed cheek.

You hum happily, eyes fluttering closed as you lean into the simple touch. Warm lips feather-light against his palm.

"Keep it up, mister. See where it gets you."

Bucky chuckles, leaning his weight over you as his lips ghost against your own.

"Mmm, that's the plan," he murmurs before dropping a kiss to your waiting lips as you tug him ever closer.

Bucky likes to think he's pretty flexible. More of a flying by the seat of his pants type of person than a strict schedule follower. That's why he was going to let the day kind of flow on its own natural path. Breakfast in bed, maybe more in bed. Then a shower obviously, and maybe if things were to happen in there then that would be fine because you could still get the box of chocolates and the teddy bear whenever. And lunch and dinner didn't really have to fall on a set time either, so long as there was plenty of time left over for other activities later that night.

But even those simple plans are easily changed.

"Well, this sucks," you announce, emerging from the bathroom with a towel around you, hair damp against your skin.

He's already changed the sheets in hope of sparing you further embarrassment. 

"I'm sorry."

Dropping down onto the edge of the bed, Bucky folds himself around you to massage your warm shoulders.

"No, I'm sorry," you sigh, leaning back into his welcomed touch.

A kiss to your neck, fingers digging into the muscles of your back, "Hush. It's not like you can control it."

You nod slowly, head down and hands folded in your lap. He doesn't like the change one bit. But he lets the silence stretch at your discretion. Focusing all his skill into alleviating any and all pain he can with his impromptu massage.

After a moment, you admit, "It wasn't supposed to happen for three more days."

He gives a little hum of acknowledgment as he works his thumbs along your spine.

"It's bullshit, Buck."

That gets you a kiss to your cheek.

"I know, baby."

Leaving the comfort of the bed for only a moment to pad across the room, in your comfiest clothes and newly gifted heart-eyed taco-patterned socks, you return with an assorted box of chocolate and a small bag that had been hidden in the closet.

His heart, honest to god, wants to burst. He can't even remember the last time someone got him something for Valentine's.

Bucky holds up the covers for you to slip back in next to him, cuddling up against the large purple teddy bear wedged in between you both.

Handing over the red gift bag with silver ribbon tassels, "You're going to love this."

A raised eyebrow and a wary voice responds, "That sounds ominous."

You just smile, watching him untie the ribbon.

"Oh my god," he groans. "Why?"

All you can do is laugh as he pulls out the small Falcon plushie with a disgusted touch, as though the toy is actually burning him.

"I think this actually constitutes as a form of abuse."

You can't stop laughing, but you grab the bag from him while trying to fight back tears and pull out another stuffed animal. 

It's a sloth.

And then he sees the heart and he just shoots you a strange look and it sends you into another round of hysterics.

Snatching it from your hands as you collapse back against the pillow with howls of laughter, Bucky stares at the large red heart that says Damn Shawty You Fine.

As you continue to scroll through your phone, Bucky holds out one of the chocolates for you. Opening your mouth enough to let him slide the cream-filled piece into your mouth.

You were trading off all the coconut and walnut and pecan clusters his way, and in return, he was giving you all your favorites - despite his personal tastes.

"Mmm," you coo around the candy as you eagerly hold up your phone for him to see. "Look at this one - he's so cute."

Bucky stares at the curly-haired poodle wearing a heart headband.

"His name is Cupid. How cute is that?"

"Super cute," he responds with absolutely no disinterest whatsoever as he tries to catch up on the last few Dodgers' games before they were moved to California. The bastards.

You're not even bothered by it as you scroll through the adoption app and show him a tiny dachshund with a Free Kisses bandana.

"His name is Cupcake, Bucky. Cupcake."

He nods, "I can see that, yeah."

"Can you imagine if we got a dog? Oh my god, I haven't had a dog since I was a kid. We should get a dog."

Bucky shoves another piece of chocolate into your mouth as you laugh weakly around it, the protests dying on your lips.

It's absolutely freezing outside, but he insisted on going out to the store instead of using one of those delivery apps you were so crazy about. It was giving you a chance to sleep anyway, so if he was out for a while, then all the better.

- Midol

- Half-baked ice cream

- Gummy bears (not sour)

- A dog

- Rubbing alcohol & medical tape - ur fault

- We're almost out of dish soap too

- ♡

Is what the text reads.

Pulling his hood up and his coat closer, Bucky walks down the recently snowed-over sidewalk towards the store.

And you know what, it was all going just fine. He found everything you ask for - well, almost everything - and was at the register. And it was fine.

But the universe intervened and a pink poster caught his eye for the local animal shelter's Paws and Claws event. And he got a really stupid idea in his head. Because clearly, some higher power was trying to get him to check off everything on your list. 

Which is how he finds himself inside the FurEver Home animal rescue, almost forty minutes away from the apartment. Like an idiot. A lovesick idiot.

There's an older woman behind the counter that a white cat is walking across and dangling red heart banners wrap around the back wall. Small cat condos are in the one corner with a Kitty Haven sign above a room. And on the opposite side, it's not that difficult to miss the distinct sound of several dogs barking.

"Hi, how can I help you today?" she smiles warmly.

And that's when he realizes what he's actually doing. 

"Uhm, yeah, I actually wanted to look at the dogs, if you - "

She's already moving around the counter, "Yeah, of course."

Why did this seem like a good idea again?

"You can put that over here if you want?" she shows him a little shelf, pointing at his shopping bag.

"Oh, uh, yeah."

What the actual fuck was he doing?

"Okay, hands to yourself. If there's one you want to really meet, I'll get them leashed up and everything. Was there a certain one or a breed you were interested in?"

Bucky shakes his head dumbly, "No, just wanted to look around, I guess."

The barking is insanely louder once the soundproofed door is opened. Everything smells of wet dog and he's actually kind of overwhelmed, unsure of where to look as she guides him down the first row of kennels.

"These guys here are some of our newer arrivals," her voice is raised to be heard over the barking.

"Rocco here is a mixed pit, two years old. He's better with a quieter home right now. And Jessie was brought in from the same place. Little skittish, but she's a real sweetie."

He looks down at the large pitbull that's standing up on its hind legs to see him. And the nearly identical female in the kennel next to him. His heart squeezes.

"We have Cookie over here. She's a Collie mix, about five years is what our vet estimates. Domino is our oldest pup, she's ten, but she is so good with kids."

The little graying dog wags her tail when he walks in front of her kennel.

Oh, this was such a bad idea. He wants to take them all. Could he take them all?

They round the corner and another row of kennels. Max, Coco, Puff, Pebbles, Sascha, Twix, and Kit all bark and wag their tails and excitedly hop up as he walks by. And he is hit by the fact that this was a really really stupid idea.

A final row of kennels.

He passes by Margo and Finn, but pauses at last before a Golden Retriever - the only dog actually laying on a bed instead of right at the door.

"This is Lottie - hi, sweetheart."

The dog hops up and walks over to them, nuzzling her nose against the kennel as the woman stops in front of her.

"She's three, very well behaved. Housebroken, knows your basic commands."

The dog isn't even looking his way, just sniffing against the door, trying to get to the woman.

"Her last owners couldn't afford the vet bills; had to give her up. But we got you all taken care of, baby, didn't we?"

It's only then that the dog turns her head and Bucky realizes, "She's blind?"

"Yes. She got SARDS and her previous family couldn't afford the treatment and surgery."

"Is she on medication or…?"

"No, not anymore. Antibiotics post-surgery and some pain relievers, but she's all healed up now."

He stares at the healed-over scars where her eyes used to be and his chest aches.

The woman seems to pause, taking in his expression. 

"Would you like me to grab a leash?"

He nods wordlessly, struck by the dog in front of him, sniffing around the edge of her kennel. 

She opens the door and the dog backs up with an excited little tail wag. With the command, she sits and the woman is able to get the purple leash attached to her collar. And then she hands it to him and oh, hey. This is happening. 

"Free to walk in here or right out on the main sidewalk. When you're done, just bring her back over to me or one of the other volunteers. These guys are microchipped, just so you know."

Oh, darn. Looks like opening all the kennels and stealing the dogs wasn't going to work out then.

"Oh, okay," Bucky says instead.

The woman moves on to the other kennels, before disappearing around the corner, giving him room with the dog. Bucky looks down at her waiting patiently in front of him. Slowly, he kneels down, offering out his hand.

She sniffs it, once, twice, before inching her face a little closer. 

He's awestruck.

Hesitantly, he touches her muzzle with gentle little strokes. She leans right into it.

"Hey, sweetheart. Wow, hey, hey."

Her tail thumps happily against the concrete floor.

"Yeah, you're coming home with me, aren't ya, baby?"

Distantly, he thinks he's being a touch insane. But Bucky just stands up and slowly starts to walk her down the back row. Watching how Lottie stays right along his left side, her head occasionally bumping against him. When they reach the end of the row, he guides her with the leash to turn around and she does it perfectly. 

"Good girl," he rubs a hand between her ears as she pants.

The woman doesn't seem the least bit surprised when he meets her up front only a minute later.

He signs the adoption paper and the license registration. Gets coupons for a pet store and a vet visit. Is given several pamphlets about bringing a new dog home. And one very specific paper about blind dogs which he spends far more time reading over than the other ones.

The volunteer recommends getting a harness or collar that signals her disability to others and something called a Halo? It all just kind of keeps hitting him in waves with that underlying what the hell did I just do?

And then he's standing in the middle of the icy sidewalk with his dog. His Dog.

Ooh, boy. That's a crazy thought, ain't it?

He looks down at Lottie who's just patiently sitting on his left side, panting lightly.

"Come on, girl. Let's get you home."

The apartment is still dark when he walks in. Lottie remains on her leash - he'll have to lead her around the place first. Opening the contents of the shopping bag, he grimaces as he hurries to put the very warm ice cream into the freezer.

And then he hears a tired groan from the bedroom, "That you out there, handsome?"

His breath catches as he looks down at Lottie and back at the bedroom door.

"Uh…" he stalls. "I'm not sure if I'd go that far?"

"I'll be the judge of that," you call back playfully. "You got the goods?"

He nods with a silent laugh, unbagging the last few items as Lottie sits at his feet, sniffing the kitchen counter. Bucky pets her head affectionately. 

"Yeah, I knew a guy. He cut me a deal."

Your laugh brings warmth to his chest, "That's my man. I hope it was a good deal?"

There's a rustle of sheets and then your very distinct footsteps. And then a gasp.

"I think so," Bucky says with a shy smile.

"You didn't," your voice is adorably high pitched as you stare.

"I did."

You continue staring with a gaped mouth.

There's a jolt of nerves that hits him then. The realization that maybe this wasn't actually a good idea. And, hey, maybe you should have been there to pick a dog you actually wanted. And he should have at least told you or hinted at the possibility instead of just running out and literally adopting a dog.

But then you're crossing the room and crouching down next to Lottie.

"Hey there, pupper. Hi - awww!"

She leans right into your waiting arms as you rub down her sides and scratch behind her ears.

"You got a name, sweetie?"

Your eyes are glued right to her, a lovestruck look on your face.

"Lottie," Bucky says. "But we could change it if - "

"No," you stare up at him with admiration. "No, I like Lottie." And then you turn your attention back to the dog, "Yes, I do! Yes, I do. Oh, you are an angel, aren't you? What a pretty girl!"

He loves the way you wrap yourself around the dog, emitting all your affection onto her. Not even bothered by the obvious scars on her face. Seeing a dog in need of love and giving her all you've got.

And then you're standing up and squaring him with a lopsided smile.

"You're an idiot, you know that right?"

Bucky tries to look offended, but he just smiles. "Yeah. But I'm your idiot."

"Ah, ah, ah!" You chastise, a hand reaching down to rest on Lottie's head, "Our idiot."

He can't help but roll his eyes as you lean down and continue petting the dog.

"Yeah, I hope you're ready for the full force of this guy's stupidity, Lottie. He comes home looking like a mess almost weekly. Can't even take off his boots at the door like a normal person."

Bucky coughs loudly, "Anyway, dinner?"

You don't even pay him a bit of attention. "And the smell. Doesn't even take a shower after a long mission. I hope your little doggy nose can handle it or maybe we'll just hose him down."

"Italian?"

Fixing him with a pointed look, "Could you get anymore cliched for Valentine's Day?"

He grumbles, feeling oddly left out now that you've placed all your attention on Lottie.

"Chinese?"

You smile, standing once again to press a kiss to his nose, "A man after my own heart."

Circling his arms around your waist, he tugs you against his chest, "All it took was the promise of takeout?"

"And a dog."

He nods, "And a dog."

You press a kiss to his lips.

"Oh! And taco socks," you wiggle your foot happily.

Another kiss, and then a longer one, and then a peck. He stares into your eyes, cupping your cheek with everything he has about to burst from his chest with love love love.

"I love you."

Your smile is sweeter than candy as you lean into his hand, "Love you too."

Lottie makes a little whining sound and you break away. Bucky ruffles her fur a bit, already planning a list out for all the things he would need to buy her.

Moving around him, you eye the goods on the counter - snatching the Midol up quickly.

 "You got my ice cream?"

He winces, keeping his face focused on Lottie, "Uh… it might have melted?"

You gasp.

"Way to go, Bucky. Just ruin my whole day, why don't you?"

Bucky gaps for a moment, then points at Lottie, "Look, sweetheart! I got you a dog!"

Another gasp of surprise as you move down next to him.

"Well, would you look at that! Guess I'll just have to forgive you then, won't I?"

Lottie thumps her tail against the floor, a smile seemingly on her face as she pants. Bucky pulls you in with one arm and kisses you soundly on the lips.

The day might not have gone as planned, but he thinks everything might have worked out the way it was supposed to after all.

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[starlightsearches]

hey!!! i absolutely loved reading your kylo soulmate au!!! could we please get one for hux to even the scales??? ^^ maybe one where he knows before the reader that they're soulmates, and he's really nervous trying to decide how to reveal it and look smooth and cool doing it :o

Something to Live For

I’m so glad someone asked for this because I wanted to write it so bad 😫😫😫 I will probably write three parts as well.

Part 2

Requests are open ✨

Armitage Hux x Resistance Pilot! Reader Soulmate AU

Warnings: language and violence against the reader

The stormtrooper’s grip is tight on your arm as he drags you through the hallways of the First Order vessel, pulling you at a pace that you can’t match in your current state. Crashing your X-Wing into a First Order outpost was certainly not ideal, but you’re in relatively good shape, all things considered. There’s a gash in your flight suit from when they pulled you from the wreckage—the cool air of the ship brushing against the skin of your side sending a chill through your body—and your head aches from when you hit it upon impact. Your helmet protected you from any serious damage, but you’re still dizzy, and there’s a small cut above your left eye, dripping blood down to your cheek and leaving your skin sticky. The trooper yanks on your arm more harshly, and you pull back, escaping their grip.

“I can walk without your help,” you say, and he doesn’t reach for you again, but continues on the way down the hall, watching to make sure follow. The panic in you is rising, threatening to become overwhelming, and you try to quell it with deep breaths because if you lose focus, it will be harder to find a way out. The halls of the Steadfast are angular and unchanging, and soon you’ve lost track of how many turns you’ve taken since you were dragged from the transport. Getting back to a hangar on your own will be almost impossible, but you have to believe you’ll make it out of this one, like you always do. You and the trooper arrive at the bridge, but no one notices either of you amid the flurry of activity. He grabs your arm again, dragging you to the front.

“I have the prisoner, General,” the trooper says, shoving you forward, and you stumble. The general turns, the look of disgust on his face quickly replaced with surprise and then something akin to fear. He says nothing, and instead studies you with a careful eye and a deepening concern, his brow furrowed.

“You’re dismissed, RV-7568, I’ll take the prisoner from here,” he says, and the trooper turns to leave, but the three of you are interrupted by another man, much older, with coarse, dark hair and a scowl.

“What’s this about, General?” he asks, and your newest captor turns to him, schooling his expression. 

“Allegiant General Pryde, this is the prisoner that was taken from the scene of the crash.” Pryde looks at you with disgust, and you’re sure you’re mirroring it. A well of rage rises in you, and your next action is instinctual; it happens before you can stop yourself. You spit in his face. Without warning, your legs go out from under you as the trooper kicks you behind your knees, and shards of pain echo up through your thighs when you hit the floor of the bridge, unable to catch yourself with your cuffed hands. You don’t have time to process the sensation before the allegiant general brings the back of his gloved hand across your cheek with considerable force, and the sting brings tears to your eyes. You blink the stars from your vision, try to regain your sight, and through the haze you notice the general’s shiny leather boots flinch out of the corner of your eye, a practically imperceptible movement.

“Rebel scum,” the allegiant general sneers at you, “take her to a holding cell to await execution.” Your heart drops through the floor, and any chance of escape with it.

“General Pryde,” the other man steps forward as you’re pulled back to your feet by the trooper, “I’d like to interrogate the prisoner before the execution.” The trooper stops, but Pryde seems unconvinced.

“For what purpose, General?” Pryde asks, and your stomach lurches with dread. What the hell would the general want with you?

“Standard procedure, Allegiant General, for any onboarded prisoner. I wouldn’t want to break protocol.” Pryde’s mouth flattens into a thin frown, like a scar across his face, and he waits a moment before he speaks.

“Fine, General, since you’re not needed here,” Pryde says, turning away from the conversation and shutting the general out, satisfied now that he’d had the last word. You look to General Hux, curious to see his reaction to the slight, but there’s no sting of the insult evident on his face; in fact, he looks quite relieved. The trooper lingers for only a moment before turning and walking out, and suddenly, it’s just him and you, standing in the middle of the bridge. You’re feeling inexplicably lonely in the crowded space.

“Come with me,” he says, and you follow closely behind him as he sets out down the corridor. You have to jog a little to keep up as he weaves through the bodies pressing through the halls—a difficult task with your hands cuffed in front of you. Eventually, the crowds taper off, and you catch up to him, matching his quick pace by lengthening your strides.

Without warning, he stops before a control panel, typing in a complicated set of instructions. A door opens, and he gestures for you to enter first. It’s a holding cell—not an interrogation room—there’s a small slab that you assume is supposed to function as a bed and not much else. Did he change his mind about an interrogation? Or is something much worse than execution about to happen to you? You clench your fists tightly, ready to protect yourself. You’ll be dead before you let the general touch you.

“Take a seat,” he follows you in, and you’re on high-alert as the sound of the door sealing fills the small space. You turn to face him and hope that he can’t hear the fear in your voice.

“Don’t come any closer,” you hold your hands out in warning—not exactly threatening, since you’re still cuffed—and he pauses, surprised.

“What are you doing?” He’s confused, and you are as well, but he doesn’t move from his space by the door.

“Um, what are you doing?” You return the question, and he looks at you quizzically before realization dawns on him.

“You don’t know who I am,” he says, and you’re not sure how to respond. Of course you know who he is; that’s why you’re worried.

“You’re General Hux of the First Order?” you say it like a question, even though you know, and his jaw clenches in frustration, rolling his head back and running a gloved hand through his hair. He walks towards you and you falter, falling back onto the low bench.

“I said don’t come any closer!” You raise your hands to block your face, and that’s when you finally see it.

You hadn’t noticed any difference before: the halls of the Steadfast all had looked the same, the officers and the machinery decked out in shades of grey, but your flight suit is different, unmistakably so; a florescent orange that’s almost blinding compared to the muted colors the general wears.

“What the hell?” you mutter the words under your breath, your heartbeat pounding against your chest underneath your flight suit.

“It would appear that we are,” the general hesitates, and removes the cuffs from your wrists, avoiding eye contact, “soulmates.”

This is not how General Hux imagined that this encounter would go, after he first caught sight of you on the bridge. He had hoped, foolishly, that everything would have gone more smoothly: that Pryde had not insisted on making him look like a fool, that you wouldn’t have been so afraid of him. And now that you’re aware of the strange and sudden development, he’s a little disappointed in your reaction. He wonders if you’re disappointed in him, too.

“This is new,” you say, taking in the unfamiliar color of your clothing. Hux is unsure what to say in response, but you continue talking anyways, more than happy to fill the silence. You turn to him, studying him intently now before saying, “you know, I always thought that you’d be taller.” 

“Excuse me-” he begins, and offense mars his words, but you interrupt him as you continue to connect the dots.

“Wait a second,” you stand from your seat and move to him, dangerously close, no longer afraid, “you’re the spy! You’ve been spying for the Resistance, haven’t you?”

Hux debates whether or not he should put a hand over your mouth, but he’s fairly certain that no one can hear you in here. This is not a well-traveled part of the ship, and the room should be soundproof. Still, one can never be too careful. He shushes you instead, and you lower your voice, speaking in an excited whisper.

“I’m right though, aren’t I? You are the spy!” Your eyes go wide, and you look up at him with unbroken exhilaration on your face, “you can get us out of here!” Bloody hell, were you always this rash? Hux takes in your appearance once again, noticing the scars and bruising marking your skin, some of the injuries clearly from incidents long before your crash, and your cheek is beginning to bruise from where Pryde hit you; so he has his answer.

“I think you need to observe this situation more carefully,” he says, and you falter, your excitement leaving just as quickly as it came, “we can’t afford to be reckless.”

“What do you mean? This seems like the perfect time to be reckless! Didn’t you hear him back there? He ordered for my execution, and if they find out you’re hiding me, they’ll know you’re the spy!”

“No one is going to find out,” Hux says with more confidence than he feels. He knows that Pryde probably suspects him, but he’s been careful to cover up any real evidence. Having you here will certainly change the way he works, though. He’ll have to be twice as cautious. “As far as anyone knows, this containment cell is empty, and I’ll make sure that no one else has access to it. I am still collecting information for the Resistance, information that they’ll need if they want to take down the Final Order.” There’s a stubborn set to your jaw, and it looks like you want to argue with him but aren’t sure how. Hux takes advantage of your silence and heads for the door, sure that he’s already stayed for too long, but you follow him.

“You’re leaving me here?” There’s panic in your voice now as well, and it hurts him to see you this way, an ache that is much stronger than he anticipated, and it’s becoming harder to predict an outcome where this will end well for him. Everything about this is more risky than he’d like it to be.

“I’ll come back for you,” he says, trying to remain composed, “do you trust me?”

“Um, no! Not really!” You grab hold of his arm, trying to keep him in place, and even though there’s nothing hostile about it, Hux still feels himself flinch. You pull your hand back when you see his reaction, a flutter of curiosity ghosting over your countenance. It’s like you’re reading him, and the pressure of your eyes roaming over him makes him shiver.

“Well, you don’t really have a choice.” He says it quietly, and your gaze falls away from his. He takes a chance to look at you again, knowing that you can’t see the admiration in his expression. He already knows that you’re impulsive, reckless, but there’s something about you that’s incredibly bold and unthinkably bright, and it’s that radiance which makes him want to help you. 

Maybe it’s a sign of trust, or maybe it’s defeat, but you step away from him, backing up into the corner of the room, and he opens the door, walking into the hallway without risking another look back. Hux takes a deep breath, regaining his usual authoritative demeanor before returning to the bridge. Still, there’s a feeling that he’s had since he first saw you—one that hit him like a blaster bolt in the chest and hasn’t left since—and it’s so at odds with how he’s felt for so long that he has trouble losing it: maybe, at least for now, he does have something to live for.

[fangirlovestuff]

Holding Out For a Hero- Steve Rogers x Reader Pt.2

a/n- enjoy!<3 italics are for thoughts / dreams.

part 1

Two people decided they didn't really want to join, so you were left five newbies and five Avengers – Tony, Natasha, Steve, Bucky and Sam.

After a short way, you finally entered the tower. You barely registered how modern the interior design was, wanting to get a good look at everything that was going on inside the tower. They herded you all into the elevators, going straight to the roof.

On the roof, a jet waited for all of you. It was surprisingly comfortable and spacious, and you and Julia sat down next to each other. "The flight is about an hour. Feel free to rest, you'll probably need it." Tony said, taking his seat next to Natasha. Sam had to seat next to one of the men who came with us, but they seemed to get along fine.

You were pretty overwhelmed with the possibility that was dropped on you, so you told Julia and went to sleep.

You felt his warm lips on your neck, then your jaw, then kissing your mouth fervently. You eagerly returned his kiss, running your hands on his toned arms and abdomen. He pushed you into the bed, and you felt his body on top of yours. You hummed in pleasure as he continued his attack on your mouth, and you tangled your hands in his hair. He began trailing down your body, leaving open mouthed kisses on his way to where he knew you wanted him the most. "Steve," you moaned at the sensation of his beard between your thighs. You looked down at him and he grinned at you, kissing up your thigh, closer and closer until he was so near your folds you thrust your hips, and his mouth landed on your—

"Hey! You okay there girl?" you opened your eyes and saw Julia's face staring at you, concerned. You stretched your neck and moved in your seat. Your dream left you a little disoriented, and – shit – a lot wet. You came to your senses quickly. "Why did you wake me up?" you asked Julia upon seeing you were still mid-flight.

"You were fidgeting and breathing really heavily, I thought you were having a nightmare so I woke you up."

"I didn't say anything though, right?" you asked, concerned.

"No, nothing. Why? What was your nightmare about?"

"I don't really remember, that's why I asked. Anyway, you should probably get some sleep too. I'm gonna rest some more."

You put your earbuds in and put your playlist on shuffle. You closed your eyes, thanking every god possible you weren't a sleep-talker. You felt kind of bad about lying to Julia, but you just met her, and really, it was a white lie anyway. With a sigh you shifted and leaned back in your sit.

That's gonna be a problem.

Julia and Natasha already figured out your crush on Steve. You had to make sure he would never ever find out, because if he did you would probably be kicked off the team. despite still having no idea what exactly they expected you to do, working with the Avengers wasn't something you wanted to miss out on.

To Natasha and Julia you could belittle your feelings all you wanted, but you couldn't lie about this to yourself. Sure, you weren’t in love with him, but your crush was massive, as you were sure his—nope, not gonna do that. You giggled internally at your own bad joke. You had to admit – Steve Rogers was your dream man. Aside from being a super-hot super soldier, with great ass and abs for days, and a really sexy beard and his strong arms that that looked like they could manhandle you in the best way possible, and a– dammit. Why do I keep coming back to that? To get back on track, you were sure the super-soldier serum had its physical advantages. But over the years, the world, you included, got to know the man better, and honestly? He seemed amazing.

Steve Rogers will forever be known as the man who, in spite of being a super-enhanced soldier, solved almost all of his arguments in words. Even though he could definitely beat his opponent in a physical fight easily, he chose to put his intelligence and eloquence to the test, and verbally convinced them he was right. He was kind and considerate to every kid or adult that came up to him to express their gratefulness or appreciation to him, always making sure to tell them if they put their mind to it, they could do whatever they wanted. He was an inspiration to an entire generation of kids who were growing up with him as an example. Surprisingly, he learned to manage Twitter, and was constantly tweeting for Lgbtq+ rights, supporting the #BlackLivesMatter movement, or any other good cause he found. He raised money for charity and marched for women's rights. And in addition to all that, he was saving the world one catastrophe at a time.

So yeah, no one could really blame you for having a crush on Captain America. Hell, probably half the country did too.

The Avengers did a lot of press as well. Steve got asked tons of questions about Peggy, until one of these times he lost his patience and almost lashed out at the interviewer, who looked scared for her life.

"Listen here. Peggy is long gone from my life and you never knew her. I think the minimum level of respect you could give her is to not treat her as a love interest." His eyes blazing, he continued, "So if you have questions about Peggy as a person, go ask her family and leave me out of it." He stormed away from the interview.

Later that month an interview went out with the same interviewer.

"I wanna start by apologizing for the last time we met, you were just the hundredth person to ask me that question so I kinda lost it and I'm sorry." Steve apologized.

"No problem." She smiled at him. Sure, hot blonde interviewer. We all know he's hot when he's angry, you thought amusedly.

"It's just that, I really do miss her. She was a remarkable woman, and she achieved so much in her life when I wasn't around, so it bugs me to see her treated like my "love interest" in the media, and not acknowledging her accomplishments really sucks." Steve explained. "I will say though, ever since then no one asks me this kind of questions anymore." He chuckled, "So you did do me a great favor." He smiled at the interviewer.

They continued the interview, talking about Steve's new charity project "All in Challenge", about the Avengers and whatnot.

You shook out of your reverie. In the time you took to have this entire inner monologue, you noticed you were preparing for landing. You resolved to forget your crush on Steve. No matter how wonderful or single he was, you couldn't risk this opportunity. You had to keep it professional.

You landed quickly after that, getting off the plane and stretching your limbs. Tony signaled to come after him, so you followed. He led the way to the compound, where you entered and Wow it's so awesome in here! You couldn't wait to see everything, but before you could start asking questions Tony started talking.

"Hope you had an okay flight. Now you'll be led to your rooms. You can take a shower or something. There are some clothes already there for you. In exactly," Tony looked at his watch, "30 minutes someone will come pick you up and give you your missions, explain how is this gonna go and answer whatever questions you have as long as you don't annoy them too much. Dismissed."

Natasha approached Julia and you. "follow me, your rooms are pretty close to each other."

You took the elevator silently, without any floor cutting lasers this time.

She led you through multiple corridors and stopped in front of a door. "This one is Julia's." Julia went in after hurriedly exchanging your phone numbers.

You and Natasha walked another minute and then got to your room. "Here you go. This one is yours." She smiled at you. "Thanks." You smiled back and entered.

The room was fairly big, and the soft-looking queen size bed caught your eye immediately. It had a set of neatly folded clothes on it. You sighed, knowing you needed to shower and also wouldn't be able to sleep because you slept on the plane.

You got in the shower, enjoying the feeling of the warm water on your skin. You really wanted to sing in the shower as you usually do, but you didn't know how soundproof the walls in here were. Well, gotta kick that habit, you thought.

You got out of the shower, drying off and putting on the clothes that were on the bed. They fit you quite well and were comfortable. You checked your phone- no new messages from Julia. Guess she's still in the shower.

There was a knock at the door. You opened it, expecting to see a serious S.H.I.E.L.D agent. Instead, you found yourself staring into Natasha's blue eyes. It was a very pleasant surprise.

"Come on. You're getting your mission from me."

[mantra4ia]

Trixstar Imagine Fanfiction: "Three Times The Charm"

By mantra4ia. August 1st 2020. Cross posted to AO3.

One of the most aggravating things about hell was that Lucifer could still hear prayers. Like a soundproof room with a squeaky fan. Like a 'no smoking' sign on your cigarette break. Like listening to Alanis Morissette unironically. God's final joke, Lucifer lamented, was that deep in the bowels of exile was just enough awful celestial Wi-Fi to get the spam — prayers to other celestials of which he only caught the static, or pleas to the big man himself — like the bleed-over on an AM/FM radio. Which was why, when Lucifer finally heard a prayer loud and clear with the volume turned up to 11, it nearly knocked him off his thrown. It had been so long since anyone had prayed directly to him, not in jest, or begging for a favor, but earnestly and with fervor that at first it gave him a migraine. He could hardly hear the words let alone distinguish the voice behind them, until at last he was able to tune in to someone achingly familiar.

"Hey Lucifer, it's me."

Trixie, you little hellion, is it really you?!

"it's Trixie. I'm not sure whether you'll remember me. It's been a while."

You have no idea...but of course I remember you mini-Decker, don't be silly.

"Maybe you think I'm still pet sized. Well I'm not anymore."

I promise you, those remarks had nothing to do with your stature and everything to do with your intelligence, and possibly also your penchant to devour snack cakes, small human. But I admit I was wrong Trixie, you're smart and clever. It was then that the epiphany struck Lucifer: why and how was she praying to him at all?

"I bet you're wondering why I called you on the long distance prayer line. At first I thought maybe I would hear your voice answer me back, but I guess this will have to do. You see Lucifer, I may have lied to you, and I know you are not going to like that, but I hope it doesn't keep you away forever."

What? He took flight from his throne and down to lowest depth of hell scape, trying without success to fully find his footing among the chasms, his knees imperceptibly shaking —though he knew not why — while his feet took hold of him though he knew not where to. As if beckoned by the siren sound of her voice, he made his way through the winding onyx labrynth, turning where her voice waned and proceeding again where it renewed in strength.

"Because I didn't lie-outright-lie. I just didn't tell the whole truth. I've always known you were an angel, like your brother Amenadiel. Just that you live in different places. I wrote a whole bunch of letters over the years, but the post office told me Hell wasn't a valid address, and eventually they started making fun of me behind my back for not having enough postage."

Well you should have tried sending it via the DMV. Honestly, Beatrice, I have any number of portals there. A whole network really.

"Anyway, I figure where you are it might be lonely, so I guess this is as good a time as any to catch up."

Out with it then, what's the sitch child?

"I just started driving lessons, although they're not as good as yours." That's my girl. "And Charlie's doing great, he started playing soccer." Please don't tell me Linda had him play keeper to keep an eye out for infant angel powers. "He's the goalie." Christ, I bet she put him in a helmet too. "I was mad at him for a long time, I know he's only little, but I was angry that he couldn't remember you like I remember you. He even asked me if you were my imaginary friend." Does he really not remember his Uncle Lucifer? "I know, kids are dumb. But I'm not mad anymore. I drew him a picture of you in my art class...and my detention after I didn't do the actual assignment in art class, but still-lifes of fruit are boring. It doesn't look like my old drawings on the refrigerator from the last time you were here, if that's what you're worried about. And it's better than Amenadiel's stick figure drawings. If I'm being honest, I wanted to make sure I remembered you too. Maybe one day you can tell me what you think. My teacher Mrs. Fissner says it's very good. Disturbing but good. She may have sent me to see the social worker. Mom misses you. I miss you too. Listen Lucifer, I'm sorry I didn't reach out sooner but...never mind, I guess that's all for now...."

No, Trixie. You're the first human voice I've heard in a thousand years who isn't begging for mercy. Don't, please, Lucifer pleaded.

"It's just that I don't really believe in prayers. I mean, I think they're kind of stupid..."

You're preaching to the choir Trix. I couldn't agree more, this rare instance being a timely exception.

"...because people somehow find a way to make it all about them, and what they want, when they should really be listening."

Oh damnation, don't tell me you've turned into a theological scholar, or did Amenadiel put you up to this? Fess up. Could you sound anymore like your mum, you're the second oldest young person I know. Where is the Beatrice who could extort people for cash, lay waste to my flat in a single pirouette, and inhale chocolate like I inhale controlled substances? A haunting thought ghosted over Lucifer's nostalgia. Did I miss all your formative years?

"And I don't want to do that, because I don't want to torture you."

Lucifer's step faltered as he slid to the ground against the ravine walls, at last overwhelmed by the whole absurd, miraculous encounter. All the days upon days he'd spent torturing souls without missing a beat, and Trixie was worried about torturing him? About how her struggles might affect him? His chin sank to his chest, and Lucifer cried.

"Mom didn't tell me you went back to hell, because she doesn't know that I believe you when you said you're the devil, but she did tell me that it's important and that in your new job a lot depends on you. I didn't want to hurt you by asking you to come back when I know that you can't. But this life is really important too Lucifer, and...it's mom. She's got a new friend."

So that's it, Lucifer thought in resignation, that's why she's praying.

"I feel lost between them. So I asked God to send me an angel, the nicest angel he had."

You've got to be kidding me? Is that what I am now sloppy seconds, I'm not even first on the prayer chain!

"Except I'm pretty sure I already used up that prayer when he sent me you."

Lucifer's din of thoughts fell into silence as he hauled himself up to full stature, trying to pull himself together. I can't help you Trixie, your mom deserves to be happy. Chloe deserves to share her life with someone who makes her feel as special as she really is. And God help me, I can't believe I'm saying this, but it would help if you showed her a little grace.

"So I was hoping Lucifer, that you could please come back and show my mom this isn't the right guy for her. I know you're the only one who can."

Not if it puts you both in harm's way, Lucifer said, knowing that his words would never reach her, and that her prayer like a billion others before would float away unrequited.

"If you can't help me, please help her."

Lucifer stopped cold. Why would the detective need my help?

"I told you, Lucifer. I need you to understand that I've always known what you look like. More than that, I need you to know I've always understood who you are. So that you'll believe me when I say I know that my mom's friend, the one that looks like you, isn't really you."

It was only then that Lucifer realized the wall he'd braced against was not a stone cliff, but a gate. He did not waste a moment eviscerating the lock.

Trixie had searched for Lucifer once, in his mortal abode at Lux.

She'd found him again within his personal den of iniquity without batting an eye.

Little did she realize that even in the lowest depths of hell she could reach him. Dad's blessings, it seems, run in the family.

Third time's the Trix. You're right urchin. It's time to go home.

***21 days of Lucifer Countdown: 21 days until season five. New content daily***

[an-unknown-writers-world]

Rumors

Summary: Inspired by the Lee Brice Song Rumor, give it a listen if you’d like. 

“There's a rumor going 'round about me and you, Stirring up our little town the last week or two, Oh, tell me why we even trying to deny this feeling, I feel it and you feel it too, There's a rumor going 'round, and 'round, and 'round, What d'you say we make it, Make it true, What d'you say we make it true? Come on over here, Let's really give them something to talk about, baby”

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Warnings: Angsty AF, but a fluffy ending. Bucky’s Henley(It’s warning - fight me)

Word Count: 2,500ish

------------------------------------

 “Has Barnes checked in lately?” Rhodey asked. 

“He’s got one more stop to make before he’ll be back," Nat responded leaning against the counter.

“He said he’ll be home in time for Tony’s party tomorrow.” You spoke up.

Rhodey and Nat both grinned.

“When are you going to admit you two are together?” Rhodey pushed.

You rolled your eyes; this was probably the tenth time this week you had to defend yourself from this question. Bucky was a great friend to you and had been since you both moved into the compound. It wasn’t a secret that the two of you spent a lot of time together – sleepless nights usually resulted in you watching movies together before passing out on the couch, you’d work out together and had been on the occasional mission together even. 

“Rhodes, for the millionth time we are just friends.” You said.

Just then your phone started to vibrate across the counter.

“Looks like your boyfriend is calling,” Nat smirked.

“Oh, shut up.” You replied picking up your phone.

“You should probably take it; you can coordinate outfits for the party.” Rhodey laughed.

You didn’t argue, you needed to tell him something anyway. Sliding the green button across the screen you answered. “Barnes, you have the worst timing.” 

He laughed on the other end of the line as you exited the kitchen. You’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t acknowledge that his laugh did something to you.

“Sorry Doll. Nat and Rhodey again?” 

Oh, that term, every time it got to you. Stop it. You reprimanded yourself, you and Bucky could never be anything more. It’s too complicated.

“They’re exhausting.” You replied truthfully.

You could hear him sigh heavily. “What’s up, Buck?” 

“I’m gonna be a bit later than I had planned.” 

Your heart sunk; you may not have been together, but Bucky usually made Tony’s ridiculous parties more bearable. “Oh, okay. When will you be back?” 

“I’m don’t know.” 

You heard shuffling in the background before Shuri called his name.

“Are you in Wakanda right now?” You asked.

“Yes, listen I gotta go.”

You felted defeated but didn’t know why, “Ok, be safe.”

“I’ll see you soon,” Bucky replied.

You were frustrated, why would he be in Wakanda? Clearly, Nat or Steve knew, she knew that he was making an extra stop before he came home. You didn’t know, but in all fairness, you never asked where he was going, just when he’d be home. You looked at the clock and realized it was only eight pm, you really just wanted to sleep off this frustration and confusion, but it was too early to go to bed. Instead, you head to your room to change and go for a workout.

Most of the team chose to work out in the morning, some of them getting up in the wee hours to do so. You were pretty confident that the gym would be empty as you made your way down to it. Tony was smart when he designed the place; at the top of the stairs were large heavy doors limiting sound and at the bottom of the stairs were double glass doors that were soundproof. Stopping inside the door you turned on the stereo system and quickly turned on your Do Not Disturb and connected your own Spotify playlist. 

Taking the time to stretch out you tried to think about all the reasons that Bucky might be with Shuri- something could be wrong with his arm, maybe it needed to be recalibrated, maybe she had an upgrade for it. But it didn’t take much for your thoughts to wander into a dark place, what if something was going on with his programming? Did something trigger him? You tried to shake that last thought.

You needed to clear your mind, the best way to do that was to push yourself. Making your way to the heavy back you wrapped your hands before pulling on the beautiful black and red gloves that Nat had gotten you for your birthday. Taking a deep breath and you centered yourself and went at the bag. 

Left…

Right…

Left, left…

Right…

Left…

Right, right…

Left...

Breath…

Each hit brought you a clearer mind.  

You went another round. 

“(Y/N),” Steve called out grabbing your attention.

You stopped your task and looked at him.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt. Bucky called me; he was worried. Said your phone was going straight to voicemail.” He folded his arms leaning against the post that the bag was attached to. 

“I’m fine.” You replied harshly.

“Clearly.” He retorted.

You hadn’t spent more than twenty minutes alone in the gym, you were far from fine. A hundred things ran through your mind. Frustrated with the fact you’d been interrupted you pulled off the gloves, unwrapping your hands as Cap watched you.

“Wanna talk about it?” He asked.

You shook your head, “There’s nothing to talk about.” 

You were never one to admit fear, it was a sign of weakness. If you let anyone know you were worried about the little things with Bucky, you’d really never hear the end of the accusations. 

“Alright, well if you don’t want to talk how about you listen instead.”

You glared at him; he was taking that fatherly tone you hated so much.

“Bucky had an issue on the mission. It’s nothing serious, but he wanted to be sure. He was sent to recover some intel; little did we know that it was being held in an old Hydra facility.”

A gasp betrayed you.

“It’s okay,” Steve urged, “Nothing happened, the guards that were still there didn’t seem to know who he was.”

You turned to hang up the gloves and wraps trying to calm yourself again, tears threatening to betray you. Bucky asked if you wanted to come on the mission, but you refused afraid it’d cause more questions. 

“He went to Wakanda to check in with Shuri, he wanted to test his programming in a controlled environment.” Steve shook his head, “He’s afraid it’ll come back. If he doesn’t continue to test it and resist it, he’s afraid if someone tries to control him with it, they’ll be able to.” Steve took a step towards you, “He’s afraid of hurting you, he loves you. He won’t admit it to me, but it’s pretty obvious.”

“Why are you telling me this, Steve?” You tried to shut down your emotions. 

He drug his hand down his face, “I know everyone pushes you guys, they make jokes about the two of you together. I guess,” He hesitated, shaking his head again, “I guess I just want you to know that it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if it were true. Clearly you make each other happy, and I think in some ways it keeps him coming back. It’s like he knows someone is waiting for him. He’s less reckless.”

You didn’t respond, you weren’t even sure how to respond. Steve just explained all the reasons you were afraid, you were afraid to be close to him for those exact reasons. This line of work is dangerous, especially if you have people that you care about. Natasha had once said ‘staying together is more important than how we stay together’. It was an accurate statement, if keeping the team whole meant suppressing your feelings for Bucky, you would; and if Steve’s statement was accurate it meant you weren’t the only one in this boat. 

“I’ll let Bucky know you’re okay,” Steve said as he walked away.

He disappeared on the other side of the glass leaving you alone with your thoughts. You had tuned out the music playing, throughout your work out it was nothing but noise, but now the song playing over the speaker resonated with you. Things were fine when Bucky left for his mission, you had your feelings and he had his; they weren’t talked about, they didn’t need to be. 

Overwhelmed with emotions you gave up on the gym. Unplugging your phone you beelined for your suite, a hot shower and bed would help. You hoped. Climbing through the house you were careful to not draw attention to yourself; a movie was playing in the living room, it was probably Nat and Rhodey, with the time of night Steve had probably gone to his own room. Sam, Wanda, and Vision were out on their own mission, so you didn’t have to worry about them, you knew they’d be back tomorrow for the party. Why did Tony need to have another stupid party anyway?

Passing Steve’s room in the hall you saw the light on under the door, you wondered if he stayed up worrying about Bucky on nights like this. It was still debatable for you if being put in this hall with just Bucky and Steve was a blessing or a curse for you. Running into Bucky on sleepless nights it what got you into this mess of feelings. You quickly showered, the hot water seemed to relax your muscles but did nothing for clearing your mind. Standing in front of your dresser you pulled on your usual night attire boy shorts and a tank top, you towel dried your hair and climbed into bed. 

It didn’t take long for you know it was going to be a long night, sitting up and laying down, nothing felt right. On your left side and your right, you even tried laying on the other side of the bed, nothing was comfortable enough to shut your brain off. This was the point where you would normally get out of bed and head to the lounge room in your hall to watch a movie and hope that Bucky would join you. That would be pointless tonight, you would just stare at the tv and know he wasn’t coming out; you wouldn’t sit next to him and feel his warmth or breath in the beautiful scent that could only be described as Bucky. 

Grunting in frustration you got up, you had an idea. You opened your door quietly looking to make sure the light was no longer come from under Steve’s. Leaving your door open you snuck into Bucky’s, carefully closed it to make sure you didn’t accidentally wake Steve. You turned on the bedside lamp and hurried to his closet where you knew you’d find your favorite shirt of his – the red long sleeve Henley. 

It smelled just like him, that smell you knew so well from the couch naps. You weren’t cold before, but this was warm, the kind of warm feeling you got when you ate fresh from the oven chocolate chip cookies, or that perfect internal warmth from chicken noodle soup when you were ill. You closed your eyes breathing it in, it wasn’t exactly clearing your mind, but it made you think about the good things with Bucky and less about your worries. 

Not quite ready to go back to your own room you curled up on his bed, laying on the side you knew he usually inhabited. You were fully engulfed by the most comforting scent you’d ever found, and it was lulling you to sleep, rapidly.

*****

You woke to a dark room and a soft blanket covering you, but you didn’t remember ever turning off the lamp and you surely didn’t remember grabbing a blanket. You rolled over to find Bucky asleep in the bed next to you. Your emotions were torn, you knew you should feel embarrassed by your actions, but you were happy to see him. So happy you hadn’t realized the tears that welled up and had started to brim over. Against your better judgment you moved over, laying your head on his chest, he hummed in your ear pulling you closer. You weren’t sure if it was reflex or if he was awake. Then you felt the gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.” You whispered.

“Is okay.” He whispered back. “I couldn’t wake you when I came in, you looked so beautiful, I think you look better in that shirt than I do.”

You smiled, “I thought you weren’t coming home for a while.”

“Wasn’t, but Steve said you were pretty upset.”

You exhaled heavily, Steve. He was pretty good at butting into things he didn’t need to.

“It’s not his fault,” Bucky reassured me. “I asked him why you weren’t answering. He didn’t know for sure, but he assumed about what things might be bothering you.”

“Did he tell you about the conversation he tried to have?” You asked pulling back to look at him.

The sun beginning to rise softly illuminating the room.

“Not all the details, just that you weren’t talking so he talked at you.”

You nodded, leaving the conversation at that. If Steve didn’t tell him about it, you didn’t need to. Laying your head back against his chest you found yourself thinking about the things Steve said. Neither of you spoke again, he pulled you tight to his side and your fingers trace the outline of his stomach muscles as you laid there. 

How could something that felt so right be so wrong? The two of you fit together in all things, you weren’t sure you wanted to run from it anymore. Maybe, subconsciously you already knew that hence why you ended up in his bed tonight. Maybe Steve was right, it wouldn’t be so bad if the two of you got together.

“(Y/N)” Bucky said softly.

“Yeah, Buck?”

He spoke as if he had read your mind, “I don’t want to run from this anymore.” 

You didn’t speak, he reached over and flipped the switch on the side of the table to turn on the lamp. Every fiber in your being screamed, this is what you wanted, wasn’t it? You pulled away from his chest to look at him.

“Everyone already believes were together, even Steve thinks we’re lying to him.” He looked down at you, his arm still loosely wrapped around your back. “We keep trying to deny what we both clearly feel. All we’re doing at this point is hurting ourselves and each other.”

You smiled at him knowing he was right.

“What d’you say, doll? We can keep telling them it’s a lie, or we can tell them it’s true.”

That same warm feeling you felt in your chest when you fell asleep, it was coming back. You couldn’t help the smile that came. You leaned up and kissed him, it was cheesy to say but it was true. It felt like fireworks going off around you, it was nothing but pure magic as he kissed you back. When you felt like you couldn’t breathe you broke the kiss. 

He kissed your forehead, “I’m gonna take that as a yes.”

You both laughed softly.

Sitting up more you kissed him chastely on the lips and nodded, “Yes, it's definitely a yes.” 

Bucky smiled down at you, the kind that could melt even the strongest of metals. He kissed you again, it was a feeling you weren't sure you'd ever get used to.

“Which one do you think we should tell first?” He asked.

You smirked, an idea coming to mind, “All of them at the same time.”

He gave you a questioning look.

“Let’s give them something to talk about at the party.” You laughed thinking about Rhodey’s comment. “Matching outfits and all.”  

He kissed you again. “Whatever you want, doll." 

 ------------------------

Thanks for reading!! If like what you read, you can find more here 

Work is also available on AO3. 

[svedone-writes]

it was always you | t.h. | year one, part one

pictures from the esquire china shoot and the man about town shoot, others are stock/public domain, moodboard created by me!

series masterlist

series summary: tom holland is your boy next door–well, technically, he’s the boy across the hall, but that’s not important. what isimportant is that you’re now in college, the perfect time to branch out and try something new. tom is the perfect way to do that: he’s attractive, funny, kind, caring–and unfortunately, not into you…or so you think.

chapter summary:  you arrive at college and quickly become friends with your boy-across-the-hall (gee, that’s a mouthful) tom holland. he’s apparently not into you, though, which makes your drunken confession even more awkward.

warnings: mature language, underage drinking

word count: 9.1k

author’s note: my first series! i’m very excited to share this with you all. a few notes: in this, tom has experience acting/dancing (he mentions he was in billy elliot) but has not made it big. the reader is female--i tried making the reader as gender neutral as possible, but later on in the series there will be smut and i only know how to write that from a female perspective. also, ____ pretty much means y/n, i just prefer to use that instead. anyway, enjoy!

your stomach was a bundle of nerves and excitement. it was your first day of college—the beginning of the rest of your life, or at least that’s what everyone said. you’d take classes, figure out your place in the world, and be on your own for the first time.

yeah, okay, that might be a little too romanticized. and technically it wasn’t your first day of classes (those didn’t start until tomorrow). but! you were moving in, and that felt like enough of a beginning for you. you were pulling a cart full of your belongings, gripping your new room key tight in your hand and carefully reading the numbers on all of the doors to find your dorm. there were a lot of other students here on your floor already, and you passed a few rooms with doors already open and briefly got glances of students and their parents unpacking luggage and setting up futons. unfortunately, your family couldn’t make it to help you move in, but you found that you didn’t mind much. you didn’t have much to move in, anyway, since your roommate graciously offered to bring a lot of the bigger items (like your fridge and futon) as long as you stocked up on snacks and drinks for a while.

finally, you reached your room and found that it was already open. you nervously walked in, leaving your cart of belongings in the hall momentarily. “hello?” you asked into the seemingly empty dorm. your roommate zendaya—whom you had matched with in the university’s roommate matching process—had told you she was arriving before you. there was stuff half unpacked, and one of the beds was made, but you couldn’t see your roommate anywhere—until she popped her head out of your shared closet.

“hey! i was wondering when you would get here!” she smiled and stepped out of the closet to greet you. “do you need any help with your stuff? i know you said your family couldn’t come today.”

you gestured to the cart in the hallway. “nah, i’ve got it all. thank you, though! it’s so good to finally meet you in person, by the way.” zendaya smiled a little brighter at that and continued to hang her clothes up. “i mean, i don’t want to sound weird or anything, but you’re somehow way prettier in person than in your pictures.”

she laughed. “thanks!” she already seemed like an incredibly easy-going and kind person, and that made you feel all the more relieved. you’d heard several roommate horror stories before, and you didn’t want to have any similar experiences.

you brought the cart into the room and started unpacking your things. it was a little overwhelming, to be honest, but you picked a bag and started there, slowly making your side of the room a little more homey. you were making your bed when you heard loud voices from across the hall.

“—i mean jeez, haz, you don’t need that many sneakers here! you’re taking up way too much space for all three of us to have our shoes.”

“well, it’s a little late for that now, huh? and anyway, you don’t see me complaining about your stuff.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i mean your ratty ass spider-man bed sheets.”

“fuck off, you know i’ve had those since i was 7.”

“are you hearing yourself talk right now, mate?”

you and zendaya burst out laughing, unable to hold it in any longer. you were both clutching each other to keep from falling over when the door across the hall opened and one of the boys poked his head out. “no, please, carry on,” you managed to get out in between laughs. he looked a little sheepish as he opened their door all the way.

“note to self, the rooms are not soundproof,” he said. he had striking blue eyes and slightly ruffled blonde hair, with a smile that was almost blinding.

“what? what are they saying?” the other voice said. another boy came to the door and took your breath away a bit. you couldn’t even pinpoint just one thing about him that made him attractive: maybe it was the strong jawline, or his biceps (i mean come on, what kind of college freshman has arms like that) or maybe it was the way he looked at you, full of kindness and warmth and laughter, like you had already known each other for years. “oh, hi, i’m tom. this is harrison.” the first boy—harrison, you tried to commit to memory—gave a little wave.

“i’m zendaya, and this is my roommate ____.”

you smiled brightly, happy that you were already making friends on your first day here. “it’s really nice to meet you guys.”

“you as well,” harrison replied. “we better get back to it. let us know if you’d like to laugh at tom’s sheets some more.” he turned and went back into their room. tom followed, protesting and cursing in the same breath.

once their door closed, you turned to zendaya and let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. she cracked a smile. “they’re kind of hot.”

“kind of? they’re almost unreal,” you whispered, now wary of how much sound your dorm walls didn’t block out. “and there’s two of them.”

zendaya shrugged a bit and went back to organizing her dresser, still smiling. “one for you, one for me, huh?” you laughed at that and continued organizing your things as well. “nah, that’s not for me.” she continued.

“what?”

“just…dating. we’re so young, and i don’t think commitment works out very well at this age. besides, i want to focus on school.” it almost sounded like she’d been burned before by a relationship, but you could also tell she didn’t really want to talk about it.

instead of questioning her further, you simply said, “that’s fair.” the room stayed silent after that until you both were finally finished putting away all of your things. you both stood back by the door, surveying your hard work. your side was a little…eclectic, but zendaya’s half of the room was sleek and well put together. “wow, you have much better style than me.”

“hm, maybe i’ll have to be your personal stylist this year.” you both laughed. “c’mon, let’s go get something to eat, i’m starving.”

the next morning, you were leaving to go to your first class of the day. as you locked the door—zendaya was already gone, having left for an earlier class about an hour ago—the door across the hall opened, and tom stepped out.

“hey! ____, right?” he greeted.

“yeah! and you’re tom,” you pretended to confirm, like you hadn’t thought of him for an unhealthy amount of time last night.

he grinned. “that’s me, thanks for remembering. you headed to class?”

“yeah, calculus, you?”

“no way, me too! is it with professor lang?” you nodded as he joined you in walking toward the exit. “god, i’m not excited. i’m absolute shit at maths, but i have to take it as a gen-ed.”

you wouldn’t exactly describe yourself as a genius with math, but you had done well enough throughout high school. “hm, well, looks like i’ll have to help you study then, if you want.”

he seemed to smile even wider at that. “that would be great.”

as you walked together to your first college lecture, you both told each other about your respective majors and what you hoped to do with them before transitioning to small talk about your lives. tom was in the middle of telling you a story about his younger brothers when you finally reached the lecture hall. it wasn’t as big as you were expecting it to be; it was definitely larger than any high school classroom you’d been in, but you had been imagining a huge auditorium with hundreds of other students in it. instead, your calculus lecture couldn’t have been more than 50 or 60 students.

you moved to sit in one of the front rows, but tom lightly grabbed your arm and nodded toward the back. “d’you think we could sit back there instead?” you chewed your lip nervously before nodding and following him to one of the last rows. someone had told you that it was best to sit in the front few rows during lectures…but you supposed it wouldn’t hurt to sit in the back for one of your classes.

when you did finally sit, tom looked at you gratefully. “thanks, i just don’t want the professor to call on me or something and embarrass myself in front of the whole class. it’s one of my biggest fears.”

“what, embarrassing yourself?” you asked as you took your notebook out of your bag.

“not exactly. i do theater, and one of my biggest fears is being on stage in front of a lot of people and then forgetting all of my lines.” he looked a little embarrassed as he grabbed his own notebook.

you, however, were incredibly intrigued. “that’s really cool. did you do school plays and stuff?”

tom seemed to get even more flustered. “um, kind of? i was in billy elliot when i was 12. i was one of the billy’s.”

your eyes widened in surprise, and a million other questions filled your mind—but then your professor walked in and started class. in high school, the first day was usually just going over the syllabus and chatting about the summer. turns out, in college, it’s not like that at all. your professor introduced herself and briefly went over the structure of the class—

(“there will be two exams in the semester, not including your final. you will also have quizzes every monday over the previous week’s material,” your professor had said. at this, tom looked over at you with wide, panic-stricken eyes, to which you responded by mouthing i’ll help you study. the relief and gratitude in his eyes made your stomach twist almost painfully).

—which only took 10 minutes. the rest of the class was spent going over the entire first chapter of your behemoth of a textbook. most of it was review, thankfully, but tom looked like he was going to break a finger from how furiously he was taking notes. when class finally let out, he turned to you. “this class might actually be the death of me.”

you laughed as you packed up your bag. “you’ll be fine. we can review sunday nights before the quizzes, if you want.”

‘”i’ll probably need more help than that. i require very individualized attention,” he replied with a cheeky smile and a wink.

in that moment, a girl tapped on his shoulder, holding his pencil that must’ve rolled onto the ground. “i think you dropped this.”

tom took the pencil from her and smiled brightly. “thanks, love.”

the girl smiled too, her face much redder than it had been before, before turning and hurrying away. tom turned back to you, still smiling. “you ready to head back?” you were quickly learning your least favorite thing about tom: you genuinely couldn’t tell when he was flirting or just being nice.

“i actually have another class i’ve got to get to, but i’ll see you later?”

he nodded, his shoulders a little lower than before. he almost seemed disappointed that you were parting ways. “i’ll see you later, then.”

the rest of your classes went well, albeit much more boring than the class you shared with tom. by the time you got back to your dorm, you were dead tired, but you still had a few introductory assignments that you wanted to get started with.

zendaya was back as well. when you walked in, she was sitting at her desk, hunched over her laptop. she leaned back at your arrival, though, and smiled. “hey roomie.”

you scrunched your nose as you set your bag down. “ew. please don’t ever call me that again.”

she laughed. “got it. how were your classes?”

“pretty good,” you shrugged, “how were yours?”

zendaya stood, stretched, and then walked over to your shared mini fridge (which you had stocked as requested). “really good, actually. i’m really excited for my journalism class.” she grabbed herself a drink and tossed you one as well.

“that’s really good, z,” you said in between gulps. “i wish i was in at least one class for my major and not stuck taking all of these gen-eds.”

“but then you might not be in a class with tom.”

you choked on your drink at that. “how did you know?”

“i could see it on your face. nah, harrison told me. we happened to be getting lunch at the same time, and he said that tom had mentioned it.”

“did he say what exactly tom said about me?” you questioned, trying (and failing) to sound nonchalant and unbothered.

zendaya didn’t seem to be fooled. “nope. he did say that you offered to help him study for calc.” you looked a little sheepish at that. “just…be careful, okay? i don’t really know tom that well, but…he seems like a bit of a heartbreaker.”

you weren’t sure if you agreed with her assessment of tom, but you nodded anyway. “i promise i’ll be careful.” she smiled and went back to her work, leaving you to do your own and mull over her words.

the rest of the week happened without incident; while your classes didn’t have anything to do with your major, none of them were that unbearable. your worst class would’ve been calc, but thankfully, you had tom to keep you entertained. he was growing on you incredibly quickly to the point that calculus was your new favorite class.

tom had noticed that, too. “why are you always so excited to go to calc?” he asked as you bounded toward him in the hallway of your dorm. you were headed to your friday lecture, and you almost couldn’t believe you’d already made it through your first week of college.

you shrugged. “maybe i just like math.”

“i doubt that, but whatever, keep your secrets,” he smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “hey, uh, can i ask you something? like, for advice?”

“sure, what’s up?”

“well, there’s this girl in one of my classes…i really like her, but i don’t know how to tell her without being a total div.”

you hummed in response, your heart racing. you figured it probably wasn’t you. he obviously had classes outside of the one he shared with you, and they all probably had pretty girls in them. but…you also figured that maybe you had the same chances that they had. “it’s okay if you act like a bit of an idiot. it’s kind of cute, and it shows that you’re really into them.”

“really?” he seemed surprised.

“yeah, guys that are too smooth seem like douches, like they’ve done it a thousand times before and couldn’t be bothered. you can be a little smooth, but being dorky and cheesy is also really attractive, too.”

tom nodded, seeming a lot more confident than before. “i’ll try to remember that then. hey, did it hurt when you fell from heaven?” he asked in a flirty, over-the-top voice. you burst out laughing, and before long, he did too.

that sunday, during your very first study session in your floor’s lounge with tom, you asked him about it. “so, have you tried any of your horrible pick-up lines on mystery girl yet?”

he looked up from his notes and grinned. it was something he did a lot, and yet each smile never failed to make your chest tighten or your stomach do flips. “i did, actually.”

“ooh, how did it go?” despite your cheery tone, your heart had immediately dropped when he said that. a good friend would be happy for him, you reminded yourself, and you should be happy that you at least get to be his friend.

he crossed his arms nervously. “well, she thought it was funny, but i don’t know if she could tell that i wasn’t just having a laugh.”

“aw. well, on the bright side, being funny will probably make her like you even more.”

“more? i don’t even know if she likes me at all.”

you rolled your eyes. “come on, tom, you’re kind of the full package. you’re athletic, sweet, funny, and pretty cute.” tom looked at you a little surprised but incredibly pleased regardless, and you hurried to move the conversation on before he could question you about what you’d just said. “anyway, tell me more about your mystery girl.”

he put his chin on his hand thoughtfully. “well, she’s just…really great, i guess. she’s really nice and funny, and we get on really well, but…i just can’t tell if she’s into me, d’you know what i mean?” he searched your face, then, almost like he was trying to see what your reaction was. after a brief moment, he shook his head a little and turned back to his notes. “what about you? anyone you fancy at all?”

you chewed your lip nervously. you knew if you started rambling, it was possible that you would accidentally give away that you had a little—okay, massive—crush on him. play it safe. “nah, not really. i mean, it’s only been a week, so i haven’t had the time to get to know anyone yet.”

“i’d say we’ve gotten to know each other pretty well,” tom replied carefully. your eyes narrowed, trying to gauge what he meant by that, but he kept his gaze down toward his notes. “hey, could you help me with this problem?”

“sure, what number is it?”

“37.”

“oh, i just finished that one. here, you can look at how i did it.” you grabbed your notebook with the intention of sliding it over to him, but he instead slid behind you to look over your shoulder. he was extremely close, to the point that you could feel his warm breath on your ear. you stilled, then, painfully aware of your proximity to each other and the fact that your heart was beating erratically.

“i’m an idiot. the three is negative, not positive.” tom moved back to his previous position, and like that, the moment was over.

the next day, you and tom were sitting in your calculus lecture hall, glancing over your respective notes before the quiz. suddenly, a girl—the same girl that had given tom his pencil the first day and stared at him every lecture since—tapped on his shoulder. “hi, sorry, i was gone on friday, do you think i could borrow your notes?”

tom smiled and nodded. “of course.” he leafed through his papers before finding friday’s notes and handed them over. a ripple of jealousy went through you. he’s just sharing notes, not marrying the girl. get over yourself, you thought, but it hardly made you feel any better.

soon the professor was striding in and passing out the quizzes. the girl from earlier quickly returned his notes then, and tom stuffed them in his binder. the bottom corner was sticking out, though, which otherwise wouldn’t have caught your eye—except for the fact that the girl had written her number in bright purple ink and signed her name (emma, apparently) with a smiley face.

you took the quiz with your teeth clenched, and for the rest of the class you couldn’t think of anything else but how tom might react. would he be excited? maybe this was the mystery girl he had been talking about. even if it wasn’t, you couldn’t deny that she was pretty and seemed nice, so maybe he’d be excited regardless.

to your surprise, tom didn’t react much at all. “oh,” was all he said before showing you.

“are you going to text her?” you tried to say as nonchalantly as possible.

he looked at you with a curious glint in his eyes. “should i?”

“is she your mystery girl?”

“nope.”

your body finally relaxed at that. “then i don’t know, it’s up to you. you could, to make your mystery girl jealous, but that wouldn’t really be fair to this girl.”

tom looked at it for a little while longer, but before long, he ended up stuffing it in his backpack. “i probably won’t. i don’t want to lead her on or anything. but…you make a good point.”

you smiled. “i always do.”

your suggestion ended up being a horrible move for you. the next study session you had together, tom dropped the bomb. “so i texted that girl.”

“what girl?” you asked distractedly, in the middle of working through a math problem.

“the girl from calc who gave me her number.”

your pencil immediately stilled at that. “i thought you didn’t want to lead her on.”

“well...let’s just say i’m keeping my options open. emma’s really nice, actually. and i don’t think mystery girl is into me, unfortunately.”

you turned fully toward him, your calculus homework forgotten. “what makes you say that?”

tom shrugged like it didn’t really bother him, but you could tell that it did. “she said there’s no one she fancies yet, and that obviously means she doesn’t fancy me. who knows, though, maybe there’s still hope, but i might as well see what emma’s like.” there were several emotions racing through you at that. you were relieved that mystery girl hadn’t worked out, you were frustrated that he had already moved on to a different girl (other than you, that is), but most of all, you were angry with yourself that you couldn’t just be happy for him.

so you forced a smile and turned back to your work. “well, maybe it’s a good thing, then. maybe mystery girl really doesn’t like you, or you and mystery girl weren’t meant to be. maybe emma will be really good for you.”

“do you really think that?” tom quietly asked. you looked at him again and were surprised to see his utterly dejected expression. “i just…really like her.”

“you don’t have to give up hope, then,” you reassured him quickly. “mystery girl could just be nervous, or she didn’t want to give away that she liked you. i mean, it is a little too straightforward to ask if she likes anyone. who knows, maybe she’ll get jealous and realize she liked you all along. or maybe she doesn’t even know you like her! maybe she just thinks you’re being nice.” you’re rambling at this point, because despite the fact that tom was telling you all about the people he liked that weren’t you, you would do anything to make him smile—because he did the same for you.

tom nodded. “how do i make sure she knows, then?”

“well, just be into her, i guess. ask her about herself—not just, like, how her day is going, but about her life and stuff.”

“okay,” he hummed, already looking a bit happier. “hey, you know, i never got to ask you this, but what’s your biggest fear?”

“huh?” you were a little taken aback by the suddenly personal question.

“the first day of classes, you asked me mine, and i never asked you yours. you don’t have to answer if you don’t want, though.”

you closed your textbook, resigned to the fact that you probably wouldn’t get anymore work done that night. “gosh, probably…realizing at the end of my life that i never mattered. like, i never did anything important, or i never truly mattered to someone else.”

both of you were quiet at that, before tom said, “oh. mine seems a little stupid now.”

you cracked a wry smile. “fears are never stupid.”

“if it makes you feel any better, you matter to me. i mean, i know we’ve only been friends for a couple weeks, but you’ve made me feel the most welcome here. you’re like, my best friend after harrison. and i’ll always be here for you, you know that, right?” you met his gaze, and your breath caught in your throat. tom was looking at you earnestly, as if in that moment, you were about the only thing that mattered.

tom had an uncanny ability to make anyone feel important, and that had to be your favorite part of him, you realized in that moment. he was so kind and caring that he genuinely wanted every person he interacted with to feel wanted. he would truly be the death of you, if you weren’t careful enough. (and you weren’t being careful enough, you also realized in that moment, because it had only been two weeks and you already knew that tom could ask you to do anything and you’d say yes.)

“thank you, tom.” you finally replied. there was a sort of tension in the air now—you couldn’t exactly put your finger on it, but it was almost like the entire world was holding its breath.

he stood up and held his arms open. “come on.”

you smiled sheepishly and stood to accept the hug. it immediately felt like the safest thing you had ever experienced. tom rubbed slow circles into your back, and you let yourself bury your face into the crook of his neck. when you both finally stood apart, his hands came back to rest on your arms. you were clutching his shirt, entirely reluctant to go, and all pretense of hiding your attraction to him was out the window.

tom looked at you with eyebrows furrowed, the same way he looked at a calculus problem he couldn’t figure out how to solve. there was a glint of determination in his eyes, too, like he’d do whatever it took to solve the problem he was looking at. at some point, tom’s lips parted slightly, and you couldn’t help but to glance down before quickly looking back up, hoping he hadn’t noticed. when you did meet his eyes again, you immediately knew he had. but whatever he would’ve done about it was interrupted by his phone buzzing.

the spell that had fallen over the two of you was broken, and you jumped apart like you had both been caught doing something wrong. you hurriedly began to put your stuff away.

“sorry, just emma asking if she could sit with us during lecture. is that cool?”

“yeah,” you answered, a little harsher than you intended, “totally cool.”

it was not, in fact, totally cool. during your shared lectures from then on, tom barely paid you any mind, only turning to you to ask for clarification on whatever your professor was talking about. sure, you still walked together in the morning, and during that time it was like nothing had changed. but during and after class, his attention was solely on emma. he was hardly around outside of class, as well, and sometimes missed your study sessions during the week (but never your sunday sessions—you held onto those desperately, because they were the only times you could pretend tom only wanted to be with you). it hurt, deeply, not just because you had feelings for him, but because of all the things he said that night no longer felt true.

however, you couldn’t deny that despite his lessened presence, you were still getting to know him more and more throughout the weeks that went on. you found out all about his childhood full of dancing and gymnastics—which explained his athletic physique—and about his love for acting. (“it’s the best feeling in the world, being on a stage or on set,” tom had said almost breathlessly, his eyes full of light, and you wanted to take a picture in that moment so you would never forget how truly happy he had looked.) in exchange, you told him about your life and your interests, and he paid each story such careful attention that if you tried hard enough, you could forget that you were now his second-best. tom would always be there to listen to your misfortunes, too, and always offered comfort at the end of your more negative stories—although nothing had happened like the night you told him your biggest fear. it all almost, almost made up for the time he was now gone.

in tom’s absence, though, you also got to know his roommates a lot better. you hadn’t found out until recently that he had a third roommate, jacob, who was incredibly witty but also very kind. you, zendaya, harrison, and jacob would get dinner together frequently, and before long, they all knew how hopelessly into tom you were.

“i mean, it just sucks,” you said one night at dinner. zendaya playfully rolled her eyes; she heard about your troubles all day, every day. “one night he’s telling me that i’m super important to him or whatever, and then the following week he barely talks to me except to ask for help in math. who does that?”

harrison chewed on his french fry thoughtfully before swallowing and answering. “he’s always been a bit like that. tom means well, but he’s just a bit clueless, i think.”

jacob nodded in agreement. “his heart is in the right place. tom’s a really good guy, but he can be an idiot sometimes.” he looked like there was more he wanted to say about the subject, but instead he took a bite of his food.

zendaya, meanwhile, merely shrugged. “i’ll kick his ass for you, if it makes you feel any better.” the whole table laughed, and soon the conversation moved on to the topic of all the upcoming exams you all had.

it was already almost the middle of the semester—you couldn’t believe how fast time flied in college—and midterms were rolling around for all of you. you and tom were having your standard sunday study session, but this time it was a lot quieter as you both pored over all the material that would be on your first exam for the class.

“would it be alright if emma joined us? she’s kind of freaking about the exam,” tom asked about an hour into studying.

you turned the page of your textbook, trying to look unbothered. “sure.”

“awesome, she’ll be here in a half hour.”

you simply nodded in response before sitting back and rubbing your eyes. “hey, do you want to order a pizza? i’m getting kind of hungry and—”

“i asked her to be my girlfriend,” tom blurted. you stopped talking, startled into silence at his sudden omission. “sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt, just…thought you ought to know.”

“oh.” you finally managed to say in response.

“oh? what does that mean?”

“nothing, i’m just surprised, i guess. did she say yes?”

“yeah.”

of course she did, why wouldn’t she? “i’m…really happy for you, tom,” you replied carefully.

“you are?”

“of course, you’re one of my best friends. why wouldn’t i be happy for you?”

tom didn’t have anything to say to that, instead turning back to his textbook. an awkward silence fell over the room until emma finally came through the door.

“thank you so much for letting me come study, i’m so nervous for this exam,” she said as she took her things out of her bag. tom gave her a quick kiss on the cheek (which, to you, felt like he was ripping your heart out—wow, get it together, way too melodramatic there, you thought to yourself, it’s been a month and a half, it’s not like you’re in love with him) and, strangely, immediately stole a glance at you, almost as if he wanted to see your reaction. you had quickly looked back at your book, though, so he missed the pained expression in your eyes. “oh! before i forget,” emma continued, “there’s a party one of my friends is throwing this weekend to celebrate being halfway through the semester, you guys should come!”

“i’d love to,” tom responded. he turned to you. “what about you, ____?”

you were about to say no before you stopped yourself. you know what? let’s do this. “absolutely, it’ll be fun,” you answered with a blinding smile. “you know, i’m really tired, and i doubt i’ll remember anything else i study. i can leave my notes for you two to look at, though.”

“that would be so nice, thank you!” emma looked incredibly grateful, while tom looked seriously confused. he was staring at you like the wind had been knocked out of his lungs. you paid him no mind, though, and went back to your room, your shoulders square with determination.

“i need your help,” you said once you got back to your dorm.

zendaya leaned back in her desk chair and turned to look at you. “with what?”

“i’m going to a party this weekend and i need to look hot.”

“this isn’t about tom, is it?” she immediately asked. you smiled guiltily, but all she did was shake her head and stand up. “well, i’m going home this weekend, but i can pick an something out for you now.”

you both began to sort through your clothes. after an hour or so, she had finally assembled an outfit, and you stood in front of your mirror full of gratitude. “damn. thank you, z, this really means a lot.”

“no problem. just…be safe, okay?”

“i will, i promise.” you were 0 for 1 with your promises to zendaya, but you figured this one would be a little bit easier to keep.

the rest of the week was simultaneously a blur and the longest week of your life. your calc exam came and went—

(“____!” tom had yelled from across the hall. you both came out of your rooms at the same time, and he swept you into a bone-crushing hug, lifting you up and spinning you around. you assumed he had gotten his exam score back—your professor promised that scores would be in by the end of the week, assuring everyone that the ta’s would be hard at work to meet that deadline. “i got a b! i did it!”

“i’m so proud of you, tom,” you responded softly, letting yourself be carried around. you truly were proud of him. despite everything, you couldn’t help but be happy for him and proud of him, because he was tom, your boy-across-the-hall, one of the few people that made you feel like you mattered, even when he inevitably left you behind. you’d be damned if you didn’t try to make him feel the same.)

—and before long it was finally the end of the week. you found that you were actually excited for the party, not just because of tom, but because it felt like you were finally going to have the chance to let go and enjoy the fact that you were now a college student, even if it was already halfway through your first semester.

you were just finishing up your makeup for the party when tom knocked on the door. “____? you ready?”

“just a sec!” you called back, giving yourself a once-over in the mirror before opening the door. “sorry, just finishing my makeup.” he was looking down at his phone and tapping out a response to someone—probably emma, if you had to guess.

“no worries, i—” tom finally looked up from his phone. “oh, wow. you, uh, your outfit is really nice.”

you smiled. “thank you, tom. where’s emma?”

he glanced back down at his phone. “she’s waiting in the lobby.” you both headed down, then, and you almost felt like you were glowing from tom’s flustered response.

when you got done to the lobby, emma greeted you both with an enthusiastic grin. “____, you look amazing!” tom walked over to her and gave her a kiss on the cheek as he wound his arm around emma’s waist. “hi, tommy,” she giggled. your stomach lurched, but you shook your head a little and maintained your confidence.

you were quiet on the walk over to emma’s friend’s place, only speaking when directly asked something; you were trying to save your energy for the night ahead. when you finally reached the party, a bundle of nerves and excitement had built inside your stomach. “i’ll catch you later,” you quickly said to the both of them before diving into the crowd to find a drink.

the living room of the house had been turned into a makeshift dancefloor—music played loudly and the center of the room was packed with bodies. most of them were girls dancing with their friends, laughing and taking pictures together, but some pairs of people were dancing a little more sensually (if it could be called that; some were so drunk that they were just sort of moving side to side wildly). it took you a few minutes of navigating through the mass of sweaty, drunk college students, but you finally managed to find the drink table, which was being watched over by a bored-looking—but definitely attractive—boy.

there was an array of bottles laid out, plus a bin full of pink, fruity liquid and stacks of solo cups of regular and shot-glass sizes. you stood back and examined all of them, unsure of where to start. shots might be good to get you buzzed quickly, but maybe it would be better to mix a drink and sip on it.

“having trouble deciding?” the boy watching the drinks asked.

your head snapped up and you smiled sheepishly. “um, yeah, just indecisive. don’t know if i should do a shot first or start with a mixed drink instead.”

he nodded. “well, stay away from the jungle juice,” he gestured to the bin of pink liquid, “i watched them mix it earlier and there’s a whole bottle of vodka in there and then some.”

“oh.” you moved a little closer to hear him better—the music had somehow managed to get louder.

“yeah, in general, avoid drinks that you haven’t mixed yourself, especially at parties like this. you never know what’s in them. obviously, i know what’s in this one, but just for the future.”

you were still straining to hear him until you finally resolved to moving to his side of the table. he raised an eyebrow at that, to which you defensively replied, “i couldn’t hear you! the music is so loud.”

he laughed. “i’m just messing with you. anyway, normally shots are more fun with other people—”

“then i’ll just have a mixed drink then. thanks for the help!”

you moved to make a drink, but he stopped you with his hand. “woah, you didn’t let me finish. who said you’re alone?”

“isn’t it a little irresponsible to take a shot of the drinks you’re supposed to be watching over?” you quipped.

he gave you an overexaggerated smolder. “i like to live life on the edge.” you laughed at that, and he looked a little pleased with himself. “think of it this way: i’m quality checking.”

“oh, well when you put it that way, you’re just doing your job. i can’t fault you for that. in fact, i’d be preventing you from doing your job if i said no.” you cheekily responded. you were surprised at how easy it was to banter with this boy you had just met only five minutes ago. your mind flashed to tom, briefly, before you pushed him out of your mind. he has a girlfriend now. you deserved to enjoy yourself.

“see? somebody gets it!” he grabbed two of the disposable shot glasses and then motioned to the various bottles. “pick your poison.”

your gaze went down the row of drinks before landing on a bottle of blue liquid. “that one,” you pointed.

he chuckled and grabbed it, pouring out the shots. “ah, uv blue. the classic college girl drink. by the way, what’s your name? it’s vital shot-taking information.”

“____, yours?”

“henry. it’s nice to meet you. you ready?”

you nodded and went to immediately knock the drink back. “woah!” henry stopped you before you could. “there’s a little more finesse to it than that.” he grabbed his shot. “okay, so you’ll start with it at the table. then, you’ll bring it up to clink it with mine, then you’ll bring it down to the table again, and finally you’ll bring it up and take it. down, up, down, up. got it?”

“i think so.”

“we’ll do it slow. okay, down,” you both held your drinks at the table, “up,” the plastic glasses clinked together, “down again,” you brought it back down to the table, trying not to spill, “and up again.” you finally brought the drink to your lips and quickly swallowed it.

you shuddered only slightly, surprised at how okay it had ended up tasting. “hey, that wasn’t that bad!”

“yeah, you say that now, but give it until the end of the year. you won’t be able to stand it by then.” henry was throwing away your cups and putting the bottle back while you scanned the crowd. you found tom after only a few moments. he was standing with emma, looking a little bored as she talked animatedly with a few other girls. “is that your boyfriend?” henry asked, making you jump a little.

“no, he’s just…he lives across the hall from me. i’ve liked him a lot since the beginning of the year, but he has a girlfriend now, so…” you finally turned back to look at him. “sorry, you probably didn’t want to know that.”

henry shrugged. “nah, it’s fine. i get it, i’ve been through something like that before. it sucks, but you just have to move on, otherwise you’ll always be stuck on that same person.” he glanced over to where tom was standing before looking back at you. “don’t look, but he’s watching us right now. i think he might be coming over.”

it took all of your willpower not to glance over again, but you stayed facing henry. “what do i do?”

he searched your face. “well, what are you comfortable with?”

you looked at him in confusion before it finally dawned on you. “oh. um…” you were already feeling a bit buzzed from the shot, and you almost wanted to ask him to kiss you—almost. you weren’t quite confident enough for that. (and maybe, just maybe, you didn’t quite want to kiss someone other than tom, but you’d never admit it, even to yourself.) “i don’t know, nothing too serious.”

after a few seconds of thought, henry smiled and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear before resting his hand on your shoulder. “now laugh,” he instructed, and you did as you were told, putting all your effort into making it seem genuine. “okay, now look at him while still smiling.”

you did, and your heart dropped despite the smile on your face. tom’s eyebrows were furrowed, and even though he was across the room, you could see the hurt in his eyes, which ultimately accused you. he’s probably mad that you abandoned him to take a shot and flirt with a random stranger, you decided as you looked back to henry. “thank you,” you finally said.

“no problem. wanna do another shot?” you eagerly accepted his offer. this time, you went through the motions a lot quicker and didn’t even shudder after you had swallowed. “see? you’re almost a professional now.”

you were definitely feeling the alcohol now. the music seemed to be calling your name, and you moved along with it. “i think i’m gonna go dance,” you told henry. “feel free to come with.”

he gestured to the table. “sorry, can’t abandon my duty. i think someone’s supposed to come relieve me soon, though, so maybe i’ll come find you.”

“bring me a drink when you do?”

“i’ll think about it. now, go, enjoy yourself. don’t let him ruin your night.”

you walked away before you could even process what he had said. before long, you were in the middle of the crowd, dancing and swaying to the music. it felt a little awkward, being alone, but you were tipsy enough that it didn’t matter much to you. every once in a while, you’d feel a hand on your back or your hips, but if you moved away they would thankfully back off. even then, your mind briefly floated to tom, wondering what he was doing and if you should maybe go find him (just to check in, of course), but then you pictured him and emma dancing and decided you didn’t really need to see him.

about five or six songs had passed when someone tapped on your shoulder. you turned around, still swaying to the beat, and you saw henry holding two cups. “hey! you did come find me!” you yelled over the music. he handed you a drink. “oh, thank you, i was actually just about to go grab one. come dance with me!” you took a big drink before holding your cup up with one hand and resuming your dancing.

“yeah, i’m not that great at dancing. i think i’ll just watch.” you raised your eyebrows at that. “okay, yup, that sounded creepy, and totally not what i meant. you are a really great dancer though.”

your cheeks grew hot (but it could’ve been the alcohol, too), and you smiled. “thank you, henry.” you took another drink from your cup until it was empty.

“you might wanna slow down.”

“why? i’m having so much fun!”

“how fucked up are you planning on getting tonight?”

you were about to shrug and tell him you were probably done for the night when you saw tom and emma sitting on one of the couches. she was practically on top of him, laughing at something he must’ve said, and then they were kissing and it was all a bit too much for you.

turning back to henry, you narrowed your eyes and replied, “i’ll stop before i can get alcohol poisoning.”

his eyes widened. “i definitely can’t condone that, but…i suppose i’ll have to make sure you don’t die in the process. come on.”

two shots, a mixed drink, and a few songs later, you could barely stand without starting to fall one way or the other. “how’re you not even drunk yet?” you slurred at henry.

“this isn’t exactly my first rodeo.”

“so you’re an alcoholic then?”

“no!” he looked a little offended at your suggestion. “i’m just not a lightweight. i don’t do this regularly, i just know how to pace myself.”

“wait, what year are you?” you peered up at him. you really hadn’t noticed before just how tall he was. or how sharp his jawline was…

he met your gaze. “sophomore.”

“oh, that explains a lot. i’m a—”

“freshman. yeah, i figured.”

was it really that obvious? “well, i think one more shot should do it,” you moved toward the drinks and almost fell over.

henry gently grabbed you to keep you from falling to the ground. “nope, i think you’re done.”

you giggled. “thanks for saving me from the ground. my hero.”

“yeah, definitely done for the night. i can either walk you home or you can stay in my room.”

“woah, you live here? that’s so cool. i probably should’ve guessed that. i live in the dorms, but,” you looked up at him through your eyelashes, “staying here probably wouldn’t hurt.”

“i’ll take her home,” an icy voice cut in. you turned your head to see tom, and you instantly wondered how long he had been standing there for. “she’s sure as hell not staying here.”

“okay, whatever. here, ____, give me your phone real quick?” you did as asked and he quickly typed something before handing it back to you. “that’s my number. text me when you get back, okay? i’d feel bad if you died along the way and i didn’t know.”

you giggled again as you walked over to tom. “i will.” tom grabbed your shoulder to steady you with a vice-like grip. “ow, tom, you’re hurting me.”

henry smiled and shook his head. “in more ways then one, huh?” tom looked confused as he loosened his grip. “i’ll see you around, ____.” with that, henry turned around and walked away.

tom steered you toward the door before stopping. “i better tell emma we’re leaving.” he walked you over to wear she was sitting. “hey, em, i gotta take her back, she’s shit-faced.”

“i’m not—” you began to say until you felt like you might throw up. you quickly said, “okay, i might be,” before clamping your mouth shut.

emma looked at you with genuine concern. “oh, well make sure you drink lots of water, ___. you looked really good tonight, by the way,” she smiled before turning to tom, “text me when you get back, okay?” that was the worst thing about emma, you realized: she was really just a nice person. no matter how much you wanted to hate her and looked for reasons to do so, you weren’t justified in it because she was so kind and considerate.

“i will,” was all tom said before he walked you to the door. the walk at back to the dorms was at first quiet. tom held on to your shoulders as you stumbled along the sidewalk, and the only sounds were your footsteps and the occasional passing car.

finally, he broke the silence. “who was that guy you were with?” tom sounded much angrier than you expected.

“his name’s henry. he’s a sophomore, and he’s super nice! he was teaching me how to do shots and i think he lives in the house, he offered to let me stay in his—”

“so he got you drunk and then asked you to sleep in his room?” tom stared straight ahead, his jaw clenched and nostrils flared.

you frowned. “it wasn’t like that, tom, it really wasn’t. he was just being nice since i didn’t really know what i was doing.”

“it sounds to me like he was taking advantage of you. i mean, come on, an older guy teaching you how to drink alcohol and then offering his bed? you really are just oblivious, aren’t you,” he snapped.

the silence returned until you felt yourself tearing up. you tried to keep any tears from falling, but you were ultimately unsuccessful as you began to cry. “i’m sorry,” you hiccupped between sobs. “i don’t mean to be.”

“hey, hey,” he said softly, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. “please don’t cry.” he gently wiped the tears from your cheeks. “i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. you’re drunk, and i don’t really know the guy.”

you nodded, sniffling, before wiping your eyes with your palms. “it’s okay. let’s just go back, i really need to throw up.”

tom laughed and moved his hands back to your shoulders. “let’s get going then.”

by the time you managed to get back to your room, you could barely hold back the urge to vomit, so the minute tom closed the door, you hunched over your trash can and emptied the contents of your stomach.

he came over after shutting the door and gently held your hair out of the way with one hand and rubbed comforting circles on your back with the other. when you were finished, you sat back and wiped the tears that had formed in the corners of your eyes. “sorry,” you croaked, “that was a little gross.”

“it’s fine.” tom smiled softly. “do you need some water?” you nodded, and he stood up and grabbed a water bottle from your fridge.

you gulped it down quickly once he gave it to you. “did you have fun, at least?”

tom shrugged as he sat down next to you. your head was still spinning a bit, and the feeling of his arm pressing into yours didn’t help much. “it was alright,” he admitted. “emma was just mainly talking to her friends, and you vanished once we got to the party. i didn’t really know anyone, so i just sort of…sat there.”

“sorry,” you replied guiltily. “i just thought you’d want some time to be with emma.”

he looked over at you. your room was still dark, and the only light in the room was the light from the hall that spilled through the crack under the door and the salt lamp zendaya had on her desk. the soft glow from the lamp illuminated the outline of his face as he spoke. “doesn’t mean i don’t want to be with you,” he murmured. “you’re still one of my best friends. no one could ever change that.” he gave you a hug, then, which was a little awkward as you were sitting side-by-side, but you didn’t mind. tom was a little sweaty, but underneath that you could smell his cologne and traces of his laundry detergent. it reminded you of home.

“i have to tell you something,” you whispered into the crook of his neck. you sat back to look him in the eyes. “i…look, i know i’m still pretty drunk right now, but please believe me when i say this because it’s true. i—i really like you, tom. like, like like you, if that makes any sense. and i know you’re in a relationship, and i’m so, so happy for you, but i just…” you trailed off before starting again. “i needed to tell you, i guess.”

a pained look flashed in tom’s eyes before he gave you a sad smile. “it’s just not the right time, is it?” what did that even mean? probably just trying to make you feel better, you thought to yourself, because this is super awkward.

“i guess not.”

the silence between you was almost palpable. “i better get going, then,” tom finally said. he went to get up, but stopped to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “goodnight, _____.”

you stood up with him, his arm gripping your elbow to steady you. “goodnight, tom.”

with that, he turned and left your room, leaving you to get ready for bed. you also quickly texted henry to let him know you had gotten back alright. he simply replied with a thumbs-up. by the time you laid down, you were crying once more and felt like you might throw up again—not because you were drunk, but because you might have just ruined one of the closest friendships you’d ever had.

what’s up with tom? is henry really a creep? what do you think? feedback is always greatly appreciated! replies, tags, asks, messenger pigeons--they’re all welcome!

[wellhellotragic]

Mum’s the Word

Surprise? Here’s a short little epilogue to the epilogue for If Looks Could Kill.

There had been joy. In that moment when she’d heard it for the first time, that she was pregnant, she’d seen the way Killian looked at her and she’d been swept up in him and his happiness. She’d laughed as he picked her up and spun her around, nearly immediately apologizing and placing his hand in her stomach as he set her down, as if that might somehow protect their child from the world. He proposed then and there, knee bent to the grimy floor of the emergency room, but she’d declined, telling him that she refused to marry him simply because he believed it to be the honorable thing to do. If they ever got married, it would be because it was right for them, not because he’d knocked her up.

They’d gone home that night with strict instructions for her to rest and ice her head. Both of them laid in bed, Killian talking about hiring a guy to come do some renovations to the house, to make it more child friendly. But as he fell asleep next to her, she was wide awak, his words played on repeat in her head. The talk of electricians, furniture, non toxic paint. It had all been foreign to her. Things she never even would have considered.

That joy she’d felt was soon replaced by doubt. A small seed in the beginning, growing until the roots had taken hold of her. She’d never had a mother. At least, not as a small child when she needed one most. She didn’t know about cradle cap or colic. The first time she’d heard the baby’s heartbeat she’d worried that it was so fast, thinking something wrong.

She wasn’t fit to be a mother. She felt it in her bones and that led to it’s own form of hell. The guilt a silent noose around her neck.

He’d found her crying one night. She’d made sure to go into another room, tucked away in a closet, but he’d found her anyway. That night he’d forced the words from her lips. She ones she tried to hard to bury in the back of her mind.

She couldn’t be a mother.

That night he’d cried too. Partly because he feared she didn’t trust him, partly in anger at her for keeping more secrets, the wounds still lingering from her deceptions early on. But mostly because he felt like he’d let her down. That he hadn’t done enough to build her up, to make her believe in herself. He’d told her how no one ever felt like they were worthy. He’d reminded her of all of the baby books on his nightstand, his own self doubts finally bubbling to the surface. He could barely remember his mother, and whatever he remembered of his father was unpleasant at best. He’d grown up far too fast, a drunken wonderboy. He felt just as lost as she did.

It got easier after that. The doubts and dread, her own insecurities still lingered, but she wasn’t alone anymore. Hadn’t been for the better part of a year. She didn’t go to him with everything, but with enough that the overwhelming fear no longer consumed her. Holding some things in still. Old habits were hard to break

The months passed and the baby grew. The nursery next door to their own room filled with furniture. The walls painted black and white. They’d found out ages ago that they were having a little boy. Killian had been intent on painting everything blue, but Emma objected, wanting something more modern. A few hours and a thousand pinterest images later, Killian had relented.

In the time since they’d lived there Killian had built an addition in the back. A shed to the less assuming eye, to blend with the look of the rest of the neighborhood, but it was soundproofed. The perfect place for a studio. His hand still hurt from time to time, but he could play a few songs at a time before needing a break. He’d never go on tour again, something she was secretly grateful for, selfishly wanting him to always be near her, but he could still compose. His first solo EP was nearly complete. He was a perfectionist though and claimed it still needed work.

It wasn’t long before she was showing and placed herself on desk duty. She’d fought it as long as she could but after watching Arthur take a rolling pin to the face during a domestic squabble, she knew she couldn’t be out there. Could put her child in harms way.

Ironically, it was also the first time she’d really felt like a mother. That instinctive need to protect the life inside her.

The search for an additional deputy had taken time. She’d even gone as far as asking Ruby, but small city life wasn’t an appealing option for her friend. Emma couldn't blame her. Ruby had always been meant for something bigger. Even James had briefly considered it as well, but the promotion the FBI offered him was too good to pass up. She turned down five local applicants for reasons she couldn’t quite explain to Killian or Arthur. Killian called it stubbornness, but she just had a gut feeling that the men weren’t right. Eventually though, her determination and desperation paid off in the form of a man named Cyrus. A recent newlywed that had just moved to town.

She continued to work as long as her body would allow her, but after Phineas’s due date came and went, Emma grew irritable, so much so that she thought she might actually snap Leroy’s arm in half during one of his weekly cell visits. It was Arthur that had stopped her, but Cyrus was the one that convinced her that it was time for her maternity leave to start. That the station would be in good hands without her.

Finn missed his due date by three weeks, and Mother’s Day by two. A month later, Killian got to celebrate his first Father’s Day and Emma tried not to resent him for it. Raising Finn was terrifying. The first time he choked on his formula she panicked, trying desperately to remember what the books had told her to do. After that, she made sure to keep a bulb nearby everytime she fed him.

It wasn’t all bad though. They did tummy time together. She got his first smile. They both got his first laugh. Neither were there for the first time her rolled over. She swore she was his first word, even if Killian grumbled that it was just a babbling noise that sounded like mama. That his kid was half English so he’d never say mama anyway. She’d laughed at how ridiculous he sounded and went about her day.

When her turn at her first Mother’s day came around, she knew Killian had something up his sleeve, just not what. She’d been in the hallway when she’d heard him whisper “but mum’s the word.” When she questioned him over dinner he told her that a man was entitled to his secrets.

Her special day started off with breakfast in bed, served to her by Killian and Finn dressed in a tuxedo onsie. It was a homemade bearclaw shaped more like the number three than a typical paw, but the taste was fantastic. Killian had really come into his own in the kitchen.

Later that day they went to the park where Killian had surprised her with a family photoshoot. The photographer had been great, doing her best to capture candid photos of the three of them. Emma had seen a few of the unedited pictures on the camera and couldn’t wait to get them blown up and framed.

Even better still came a few hours later, when Killian dropped her off at a local coffee shop, telling her to take some time off to herself. She’d been perplexed at first, until she went inside and found a certain brunette waiting for her by the counter. She hadn’t seen Ruby in months, the few calls and facetime videos they’d tried were always cut short by Finn’s eager lungs. The two of them spent over an hour talking and catching up, uninterrupted before Killian picked her up again, the two women promising to make more time for each other.

They went home and the three of them took a short nap together. They played and watched Finn’s favorite cartoons. They ate dinner and Killian drew Emma a bath while he cleaning up the kitchen and readied their son for bed.

The day had been perfect, but nothing compared to what came later, when Emma went to kiss Finn goodnight. He was wearing a new onsie, one she’d never seen before. One that someone had made special. She read the words on it, a gasp leaving her lips as she turned to look at Killian, down on one knee again.

Will you marry my daddy?

“Well love, how about it?”

[left-myself-in-the-alleyway]

Forever & Always

Part 3

Warning: Descriptive abuse, panic attack(s) touches lightly on drinking

To anyone who reads this: I wrote this part before I did any research on panic attacks and such so please be kind.

Thanks to @momobucketcomics for editing/co-writing this and making the mood board below.

More thanks to @devotedlybeautifulkingdom- (Tumblr won’t let me tag you!) for showing support for this story.

-

I felt someone rubbing my back. Someone, or something was comforting me, telling me I was safe. In the state I was in, I'm surprised I could hear it at all. I could feel the sweat trickling down my face, leaving a wet, slimy trail. I also felt myself calming down, albeit slowly.

It's okay. It's okay. I kept telling myself, desperately wanting to believe it.

I sat up straight and leaned back, still trying to fill my lungs. I could barely get enough air in them without feeling like I was suffocating.

I heard someone say my name.

"Mmhhmm...?" I mumble, my eyes still shut tight.

"Evelyn, can you please open your eyes?" I hear a voice that sounds like Tony ask, sounding... concerned?

Slowly, I comply to my so-called father's wishes.

I opened my eyes to see a sea of faces staring at me, worried expressions on their faces.

...Last time I checked, there weren't this many people in the room. Damn, I'm seeing double again.

I rubbed my eyes and took a deep breath. Finally, my head was clear enough to speak normally. "I'm sorry... overreaction." I try to cover up.

"I would like to apologize for asking you that. I didn't know you would react that badly." Thor explained. It was badly worded, but...I knew what he meant.

"It's okay. It's not your fault- I shouldn't have let my mind wander..." The last words drifted off into a mutter- I wonder if he could hear me.

"Do I have a room?" I ask quietly. I don't want to stay here for much longer.

"Yes, I um. Yeah." Tony still looked a bit freaked out about my panic attack. I hope he hasn't bitten off more than he can chew by taking me in...

"I can take her to her room, Tony." Steve offers.

"Thanks, Steve." He replied, walking away.

Steve gave me a smile. "Follow me."

Dragging my feet, I grab my backpack and duffle bag. Panic attacks are exhausting.

As soon as we leave the room, it's just the two of us. The hubbub in the last room seemed to have vanished from existence, as if nothing had happened at all. Huh, guess they have soundproofing here too.

"Are you okay?" He asked as the elevator started to move.

"Yeah. I'm fine." I say, trying to get some form of a smile to form on my face. I hate it when people worry about me- I feel like I'm just a nuisance to them.

"You know, when I first came out of the ice, I had panic attacks. Everything was really overwhelming." He admitted. "I found the best thing I could do was talk to people about what happened. War is an ugly thing. You see a lot of things you wish you hadn't."

"It sounds like...you had a hard time leaving the past in the past and embracing the future" I say quietly as we navigate the halls, a whisper being all I could muster.

"You're pretty smart for someone so young. But that is something that you should remember too. Your past may determine your future, but it doesn't have to rule it." He explains as we come to my door, his pure blue eyes boring into my hazel ones.

"If you ever need anything at all, and you can't find Tony, don't be afraid to come to me for help." He said softly. "Just ask JARVIS to take you to my apartment. It's on this floor."

I scrunch my eyebrows. Apartment? "Everyone here has half a floor, except for myself and Tony. He has a whole floor to himself. I have almost a whole floor, so that's why Tony figured it would be a good idea to put you here." He explained.

My eyes go wide. "That's right, you get a small apartment just for you." He chuckled.

I smiled to myself. Maybe this won't be so bad.

"Remember what I said." He says, walking away.

I walk into my room, exhausted. I let go of my bags, letting them land wherever. It's so clean in here, I feel a slight twinge of guilt for messing up the neatness of everything with my scruffy baggage. I look at the rustic, brown clock. Thank God it’s not some weird futuristic aesthetic design, I hate that kind of stuff . It's 6:00.

That means it's only 3:00 back home.

Home. Somehow, the word feels foreign in my mouth- like a new shoe that'll take getting used to, or... Something.

I look at my messy bags laying haphazardly on the floor. My other luggage must be downstairs, wherever Mr. Hogan put them. I'm too tired to care about anything right now. I've got so much to do, but I can't resist taking a quick nap- Then I'll unpack and check out the rest of the apartment.

I flop down on the couch. Closing my eyes, I still can't believe how much my life could change so much over the course of a few hours.

-

Tony trodded over to the lounge bar, searching for the drink he had left behind earlier. He chugged down the glass of alchohol. Even though it was now room-temperature, he savored it rushing down his throat. Then, without even thinking, he poured himself a glass of the strongest bottle on the shelf- Devil's Springs Vodka. He collapsed on the couch sipping his strong drink.

-

"No, no! Stop it!" I scream at my mother.

She had just returned from wherever it was that she went. Probably the bar, considering her words were extremely slurred. With every step she took, it was heavier than anything- like ten earthquakes simultaneously rocking my world.

She was hitting me, landing blow after blow over and over again. I wish it would stop.

I need it to stop!

I almost got away, but she latched onto my shirt and pulled me back.

"Oh, darling. You're not getting away that easily!" She laughed as she dug her long, inhumanly sharp nails into my arms. I cried out as I felt the skin start to split and bleed.

She shoved me onto the floor. Before I could be relieved at her release, my head caught the corner of the table on my way down. Pain exploded through my head, and I could feel hot blood welling up somewhere on my face. Through my blurry, spotted vision I saw her chug down another bottle of vile-smelling beer.

Then, instead of doing what I hoped she would do, she threw it at me. I screamed as it shattered on the floor, showering me in broken shards. I cried out one last time as I felt the pieces of glass embed themselves in my flesh, burning deeper and deeper inside me. As I struggled to run away, my hands slipped on the floor that was pooling with my blood and tears. It rose ever higher, fueled by my bodily fluids, threatening to flood the entire room. The salty mixture seeped into my fresh wounds, burning them black.

Before I black out, I hear her say something. Her voice was no longer slurred, but crystal clear. It was sick and twisted, familiar and yet of something nightmarish that you'd only hear in the darkest depths of hell.

"Remember, Evelyn; however far you run, no matter how hard you fight back, I will be with you. Forever... and Always." As she growled those last words, everything faded away into darkness.

-

I shot up out of my restless slumber, drenched in cold sweat. My heart was pounding. I quickly pulled up the sleeves of my pullover, thinking I had woken up after being knocked out. There were only fading bruises and scars. Then, I remembered where I was. I breathed a sigh of relief.

I glanced at the clock. I only slept for 45 minutes, and I'd managed to have one of the worst nightmares in history. Oh, jeez.

I started unpacking my measly possessions. Anything to get my mind off That.

Someone had brought the rest of my bags up and put them in my room. I plopped down on the pristine bedsheets, feeling myself sink down into the mattress. It felt much comfier up here than on the couch. Maybe if I'd crashed on an actual bed, I'd have been spared the horrors of that nightmare.

I hung up a few of my tops in the closet. Most of my clothing consisted of long-sleeved sweaters, which I used to wear to school to hide the marks. I also had one sundress and two maxi skirts. They were beautiful, but I couldn't remember the last time I wore them. Standing on my tiptoes, I put a few of my pants and shorts on the shelves. Some of them were messed up, but I threw them in anyway. I was never any good at folding clothes. From there, I head into the bathroom to unpack all of makeup and other... Necessities.

I wonder if there's any dishes in the cupboards. Skipping off to the mini-kitchen, I went to check. Sure enough, there was. There was also food in the fridge! Am I supposed to live by myself, completely? I wonder to myself, checking out the other contents of the various drawers. The countertops were sparkling, and even inside the compartments of the kitchen, not a jar was out of place. Just the way it will stay, clean.

I fiddled with my phone, looking for my favorite playlist. Ah, found it.

Forgettable by Project 46 filled my ears.

I absentmindedly started to hum along to the song- This soon developed into quiet singing.

The song's beautiful and uplifting melody rejuvenated me. It was like a weight was lifted off my shoulders, as I started organizing.

I adjusted a photo of me and my cat, trying to get it just right. I finally get it to sit at the right angle on the little counter beside the kitchen. As I subconsciously sung to the tune of my music, I stepped back to examine the angle of the frame. Suddenly, in between songs, I heard something behind me. It sounded kinda large- maybe mice? Huh, not if the cleaning team can help it. Really Evelyn, this is Stark towers. There won't be mice here. After ridiculing myself a bit more I turn around, thinking I might make some tea. I nearly screamed when I saw a figure in my doorway...