#this songs been on loop in my head since we said goodnight

[sapphtbh]

"i felt the highs and they felt like you,

see, a love like mine is too good to be true,

and you too divine to just be mine,

you remind me of the color blue."

- mac miller

[whatthequizquack]

Inspiration (klance soundcloud au) Ch. 2:

The News

-In Lance's POV-

I said goodnight to Hunk as I turned over in my bed and was doom scrolling through my phone. That song kept playing in my head, Cheif Keith's new single. It was oddly catchy, and that fact annoyed me. He was that kind of industry plant mumble rapper, and it kind of felt like he was trying to cling to relevancy by switching it up this drastically. But the stupid song was stuck in my head, and I remember watching a five-minute craft video that said that listening to the song that's stuck in your head all the way to the end helps get rid of it. Ugh. I gave in and opened YouTube, typed in the song title, and clicked the video. Since it was new, there was only an audio version, with an album cover of Chief Keith sitting in an old convertible, with gigantic lettering spelling "Past Pressures". Oh, interesting, there’s gonna be a whole album?

I woke up to probably the 87th time the song replayed, since I fell asleep after the 4th loop. It was really pleasant. Really soothing. So so melodic. Who would’ve thought, right? I slowly open my eyes with a small grin plastered on my face. What a pleasant way to wake up.

Wait. Wake up? It's morning? What time is--

9:25 am?! #$@#!!!

"Hunk! Wake up! We've only got five minutes to make it to class!" I shrieked as I jumped out of bed with only pajama pants on, grabbed a hoodie draped on my chair, and threw it on. I scrambled and hopped as I tried to put my shoes on as fast as I could.

Hunk shot up and threw on his clothes as well, also struggling and hobbling a bit due to the urgency. We both then grabbed our backpacks and jumped out of the door.

"Looks like we're taking the car to class!" I said as I jumped in the driver seat and put the keys in the ignition.

"Jump in!" I screamed out the window, as Hunk was desperately running towards the car a bit behind me, trying to tie his hair back. He jumped in and I gassed it.

I considered myself a great driver, but for some very odd reason, most people didn't agree. But the important thing is that I get to places in one piece I guess. By the time I sped up to our building and parked, we had about 30 seconds left until 9:30. We both ran into the building, ran through the halls and admittedly, we loudly entered the door into the classroom, and discovered that class was already in session. Sure, we had a pretty loud entrance, but we were there, and technically on time. I felt everyone's eyes on me, but I really didn't care. I just confidently walked to my seat, while Hunk apologetically waved to the professor as he sheepishly followed me.

"Sorry for the interruption professor. Please go on." Said Hunk, but of course he did. He's just that type of student to not want to be on bad terms with his professor. I just can't wait until I get out of this hell hole and get some coffee. I'm dead tired.

----

FINALLY, that bell rang. You already know I ran out of there as fast as I could. Calling the driver's seat, I got the keys, sat down, and got ready to drive. Hunk strapped himself into the passenger seat, and stared me down. Of course, he wants me to give my phone to him. He's all about that safety-first stuff.

"Just plug it into the aux. Turn on some bangers." He hated it when I said that, but I said it anyway. He plugged it in, turned on my Spotify, and we drove to the nearest Dutch Bros.

After getting my beloved cup of coffee, my songs were interrupted by my ringtone. Who can be calling me this early? Motioning Hunk to pick it up and let it play through the car speakers, he did just so.

"Yellow?" I glanced over to the screen and saw it wasn't a number I recognized, and followed my greeting with a confused "Who's this?".

"Hello, is this 'The Tailor' from SoundCloud?"

Ohhhh boy. How’d they get this number? Am I finally being recognized or hunted down?

"This is he," I replied, still confused.

"This is Katie Gunderson from Kaltenecker Records, I'm Cheif Keith's agent. You have been requested by Keith himself for you to visit the studio. Would you be interested in that offer?"

I just stared at the road ahead in shock.

"I-uh-yeah, but why does Chief Keith want me at the studio?"

I've never been more confused, shocked, and happy in my entire life.

"That’s not important. I’ll be keeping in touch with more details as things play out."

I looked at Hunk as he put his hands up defensively towards that tone. Kinda rude to speak to me like that but I guess that's how the show bizz is.

"Uhhh okay, I understand. When will this happen and where? Do I book a flight right now--"

"That won't be necessary. Whenever you have free time, just give me a call, and we'll provide transportation and housing during your visit."

Smiling slightly, I look over once again at Hunk and realize I’ll need him there.

"Uh, ma'am? I have a producer that creates my beats and stuff, I need him to come along with me."

"That'll be no problem, sir. Just say the word, and we'll get you here and settled for a bit. Any other questions?"

"No, but I'll call you if I have any! Thank you so much!"

“You as well. Good day.”

I ended the call and kept driving in a trance. After a bit, I looked over at Hunk, who still had his mouth open in disbelief.

"Woah dude. I don't even know how to react. Like is this it?"

Hunk gave an I-dunno look, and I turned to face the road as I continued to drive in shock. Is this my big break?

----------------

-In Keith's POV-

"Did you call him yet?"

Katie was looking out the window then turned around to face me.

"Yeah, he's going to come soon, it’s all up to when he’s free. He's also bringing a guest, his producer? I hope that's alright."

"Yeah, yeah, it's fine. So when is he coming?"

Katie was looking through her phone now, so she looked up and parted her mouth to reply.

"He's a college student, Keith. He needs​ to make time or find some on his own, not just us grabbing him from his classes."

I never went to college, unless one year of University before getting expelled counts. This guy must have some talent to balance music and school, since I can barely handle music alone. Maybe I can visit him...?

I stood up, nodded slightly, and headed out the door. Remembering where I was going, I peeked my head in the office once more to ask if Katie wanted anything for lunch, to which she gestured to her McDonald's bag. I nodded once more and headed out of the office building.

As I walked out of the office building, I scrolled through my texts, and saw I had a new one. From Katie? She sent me a number, and being curious, I clicked it and plugged in my earbuds to listen to the other end. I almost jumped when I heard a familiar voice on the other end.

"Yellow?" The guy on the other end said, in a rather obnoxious.

"Yeah, hello? This is Keith Kogane, is this 'The Tailor'?"

"Woah super formal" I heard him say under his breath. “Yeah, this is he, I think I just got off the phone with your agent…? Is this for real?”

I was shocked at this guy's bluntness, but I understand being confused by how sudden this all is.

"Yeah, definitely for real, I’m sorry for how out of the blue this all is, but I have a question for you. Since I know you have a busy life at the moment, I was wondering if I could possibly visit until you could come to California for the studio session?"

I could've sworn I heard whispering on the other end, but it quickly cut back to him talking normally.

"Woah, yeah, sure, dude! Come anytime. Me and Hunk-- ah-- Hunk and I, would be honored to have you here. I’m a bit confused about why, but hell, why not?

"Great, because I'm visiting tomorrow. What's your address?"

Fantastic. I sound like a desperate stalker.

"This is your number, right?”

“...Yeah…?”

I almost jumped when I heard the FaceTime ringing and looked down at my phone to see my own face, and a prompt to accept the call.

“Uhhhh…” I stammered.

“C'mon man, I wanna see if this is for real or not. This is a lot and gotta make sure it’s not a scam or whatever.”

I froze. I’ll be seeing the guy who inspired me. My muse. I’m scared.

I snap out of my confusion and sigh. “Fine.”

I accept the FaceTime request to see a couple of pairs of eyes hovering over the camera phone. One is a bigger tan guy, with big brown eyes and dark brown hair, sporting a neat manbun. The other is another tan guy, smaller in size, with the most stunning blue eyes I have ever seen. His wavy brown hair complemented his skin tone so well, and I hadn't even seen his full face. Who is this guy? The bigger guy quickly whipped out of frame, which snapped me out of whatever spell I was under.

“Woah, it's actually you! Love your music man, good stuff.”

I stare down at the phone, also only showing my eyes and hair.

“Right back at you, and you are…?”

“I’m Lance, or The Tailor as you might know me. The other guy is Hunk, he's the producer I mentioned to your agent.”

Woah. It’s him.

“Ah, right. Well, how is the visit gonna work? Do I have your permission, or…?”

“Right! Just let me know when you're in the area and I’ll send the address. Sound good?”

“Yeah, yeah! Sounds great, thank you for being so flexible, I just can't wait to work with you.”

“Of course! It’s an honor. See you when I see you!

"You too, thank you for the cooperation."

"Yeah, no problem, man. See you then!"

I heard a click on the other end, and felt a flutter in my chest. Woah. That was him. I can't wait.

--------------------

-In Hunk's POV-

I have never seen someone so excited to see someone they hated only two days ago. Man, Lance is crazy. I mean, I'm a bit excited too, but this is just downright a dream. Why would a random rich rapper want to visit a lowly SoundCloud rapper and his producer? Well, whatever the reason, I hope he isn't staying here. Don't like rich people get expensive hotels? He's real thoughtful for visiting instead of us visiting him. It's almost midterms anyway. Hopefully, he won't distract us too much.

"Yo, Hunk! We gotta tidy this dump up! Keith is visiting like, tomorrow!" Lance said with a goofy grin and flailing arms. This dude needs to chill.

Wait, Keith? Who-- Oh! Chief Keith. Yeah, gotta leave a good impression.

I helped Lance set up the dorm in an orderly fashion, and prepped to go to the store to pick up groceries at the supermarket for the visit. Lance pitched in some of his savings so we could get a decent amount of food instead of just some Pop-Tarts and Cup Noodles. Plus, Shay works there as a cashier. She's so nice. 

I picked up all the groceries for a good cheap college dinner, and headed to the registers. Ah, register 2. Shay's working there.

"Hey, Shay!" I was grinning like a fool when I walked up to the conveyor belt.

We talked a bit about my career, my major, and her future goals. She's so breathtakingly intelligent. I said my goodbyes, grabbed the groceries, and headed for our old Honda. Keith better be prepared for the delicious meal I'll prepare for him. Although I am studying to be an engineer, I love cooking, and was hoping to minor in it when I get the funds. I'm super excited that Lance and I might be able to get some recognition from people other than online or on campus because of Keith's visit, I'm hoping it'll go well.

_______________________________

Thanks for reading yall. Leave feedback in the comments, ill be continuing my revision and hopefully with the rest of the story soon.

[televinita]

All The Songs Make Sense

I am regularly sad that Tumblr doesn't have access to this post, because it's one of my favorite things I wrote during my first go-round with Doctor Who/while processing my feelings about Journey's End, so I am transplanting it here. Which I've thought about doing at least twice before, but I don't think I actually ever did, so here goes nothing.

CONTEXT: I had my music library on shuffle, and 3 songs in a row were either explicitly written about the Doctor/Rose or on my ship playlist for them, and so I said...

Wait, wait, I HAVE A NEW GAME.  For the next 20 songs, I will magically relate lyrics to Doctor/Rose. I was this close to turning this game into the fic meme [where you write a tiny story related to/inspired by the song], but since I've never even tried to write Doctor Who fic, it would all pretty much come out sounding the same: me frustratingly working out my issues with Journey's End in terrible, thinly-veiled third person POV.  So instead we'll just pluck out lyrics and comment on them, as I do.

And so this was born, bringing into existence lyrical associations that, in some cases at least, persist to this day.

1. Blackbird - Evan Rachel Wood You were only waiting for this moment to arrive

(cue "Rose's Theme" and an otherwise-empty street)

OR

Take these broken wings and learn to fly

(broken wings, a phrase here meaning Ten II and/or her suddenly clipped joy)

2. I Will Show You Love - Kendall Payne

Well that's just too easy:

Watch your dreams like falling stars, heartache made you who you are

3. In This Life - Delta Goodrem I have faltered, I have stumbled, I have found my feet again I've been angry and I've been shaken, found a new place to begin I think that works pretty well for Rose in Pete's World

4. Do You Want to Play? - Jewel (A CHALLENGE, SIR?)

Don't ever give away what you can't take back

Which sort of implies that Rose is an object, but WHATEVER.  He essentially handed her off - gave her away - and now the next time the universes magically break down and they're reunited, it'll be too late.

5. Taxi Ride - Tori Amos (ohoho!  You think you're gonna throw me for a loop?) We've all been pushed too far today

Almost anywhere in the two parts of the finale, really.

6. Hard Candy - Counting Crows

All the regrets you can't forget Are somehow pressed upon a picture In the face of such an ordinary girl This is where I really wish I was doing the fic meme...not that I actually have an idea, but, you know.  I have a mental picture within the TARDIS. 

7. Larger Than Life - Backstreet Boys

All of our time spent in flashes of light

YOU THOUGHT I COULDN'T DO IT.  BUT I DID.

8. Awake - Josh Groban (oh, I see we're back to the easy ones) We can't stay like this forever But I have you here today

9. Dignity - Hilary Duff Curses!  The game has defeated me.  This round. (unless we go meta and relate it to my lack of dignity in posting this) [let alone re-posting it]

10. Emily - Jewel One moment here, then gone With no forwarding address

Hard to pass mail between parallel worlds.

11. Ooh Oh - Keri Noble (ooh, oh, challenge?) What if I want you just to walk away From all the pain we have both been through?

*tilts head*  I mean, isn't that what he asks in the end?  Essentially? 

12. What Child is This - Josh Groban *rolls eyes*  Way to make it impossible on the very next selection.  See, in the fic meme, I could have set something during one of the Christmas specials.  But noooo, I had to be lazy. 13. Wait for You - Elliot Yamin (Oh, hell yes.  Just watch me.) Rose -> Doctor You're still in love with me Don't leave me crying

Doctor 2 -> Rose Why can't we just start over again, get it back to the way it was? If you give me a chance, I can love you right 14. Goodnight and Go - Imogen Heap

We'll have drinks and talk about things Any excuse to stay awake with you

The chorus would work beautifully for Martha, but this is about as good as I can get for Doctor/Rose. Still, not terrible; better than nothing.

15. A New Day Has Come - Celine Dion Televinita forfeits this round on the grounds that the song mocks and taunts her and sinks her further into the pit of despair.

16. Telling Stories -- Tracy Chapman Sometimes a lie is the best thing

Lie, a noun illustrated in both the sentence "and I'm him," and Rose's kiss.

17. Stay - Beth Hart When I was young, just a little girl I'd sing to the sun & dream with the world Now I got a suitcase full of memories ...I don't know; is a slight stretch.  I again wish I was doing the fic meme.  Little Rose would be delightful.

18. Still Standing - The Rasmus Wish I could have you by my side Tonight when the sky is burning Think I am going to Turn Left places with this one...

19. What Goes Around Comes Around - Justin Timberlake (BWAHAHA!  And yet:) Don't want to think about it Don't want to talk about it I'm just so sick about it Can't believe it's ending this way Sorry, that's my reaction to Doctor Who.  Here's the Doctor/Rose bit:

Is this the way it's really going down? Is this how we say goodbye? See, it's slightly different!

20. Buildings - Regina (slightly edited for repetition) She would ask for time And she would beg for time And he would give her time But time is not given and time is not taken Which clearly sums it up. 

Also, haha, WAY TO SIGNAL THAT THE GAME IS OVER, LIBRARY ("Doomsday").

...my music library and I have a special relationship.  Be quiet. 

And finally, just because I really want to share what sparked the game off...

Goodbyes - Jess Anderson Is it so wrong to want to stay now that I've found you?

[sunmoonandeddie]

and he kissed me right here

pairing: modern!bucky barnes x reader

word count: 6,100

summary: I've always been sure that all I ever wanted was a glamorous life.

warnings: Cuss words, mentions of the Afghanistan war (Bucky is a veteran), angst, happy ending, cheesy romantic confessions, age gap

a/n:  This is based on the song 'Stars and the Moon' from Songs for a New World! It's the first one shot in my musical series! This is written in first perspective, but there is no physical description or use of a name in this!

Twenty-Two

I sighed as I tossed a few more dirty plates into the dish window, wiping my brow. After a shitty dinner rush and an even shittier rush around two in the morning consisting only of drunk ass college kids looking for some sort of carb to suck up all the alcohol in their systems, I was ready to go the fuck home.

“Sweetheart, you head on home now,” the head chef insisted as he watched my head nod slightly as I tried my best to fight off sleep. “Ain’t nobody comin’ in before Melissa gets here. No point in you staying on your feet any longer.”

Louis was a godsend. At sixty-seven years old, you’d think he would rather be anywhere but a diner at almost four in the morning.

“Nah,” he had said when I’d asked him a few months after I’d first started. “My Ginny died a few years back, and since she’s been gone, I don’t really have the stomach to sit around that house all alone.” He had laughed, but there’d been a deep sorrow that had come over his deep brown eyes. “Kids are worried, but… Sleeping the day away is better than laying up at night staring at her side of the bed…”

“You sure, Lou?” I asked even as I headed for the back room where all the employees clocked in and kept their possessions in their own little cubbies. I did my checkout in view of the security camera, just like always. I didn’t want anyone to be able to say I stole anything.

Everyone who knew me knew that I wouldn’t, but I’d worked at two many places where the girls tried backstabbing each other and sabotaging everyone else to get them fired.

Though people were a lot nicer in Louisiana than any of the other places I’d lived.

Louis chuckled as he set a to-go box in the window, nodding towards it. “Mmhm. Long as Buck is getting you home safe.”

I gave him a joking eye roll as I took the to-go box gratefully, grinning at my name written in all caps with green Sharpie on top. “You know you don’t have to make me dinner every night.”

“Yes, I do,” he said, shooting me a look. “How else do I know you’re getting enough food in you, huh?” He pointed his rag at me. “Now you go ask him to get you home. Tell him I said he can clock out, and that he’s supposed to text me when he sees you safe inside. You better not say you’re gonna ask him again just to walk yourself home.” The old man shook his head as I headed for the back door, muttering to himself, “Damn girl thinks I’m gonna believe she’s feeding herself good enough when she’s risking her damn ass walking home alone.”

Despite the fact that I’d put off asking for Bucky Barnes’s service, I really did appreciate how fiercely Louis cared about me.

It had been a real long time since anyone had cared so much.

I hesitated at the back door of the diner, my hand resting against the cool metal.

What if he said no?

Granted, he most likely wouldn’t. But what if he said yes, and he secretly thought me some dumb little girl that couldn’t take care of herself?

What did I care if he thought that?

“I don’t care what he thinks of me,” I huffed as I straightened my shoulders, holding my chin a little higher.

“Stop talking to yourself and get going!”

I jumped in surprise, before shooting a glare in the direction of the kitchen. “Stop listening in on my private conversations!” I demanded before storming outside with new found vigor.

Only to freeze when Bucky looked up from where he was sitting on the curb, smoking a cigarette.

God, he was handsome.

“You okay, doll face?” He asked, his New York accent a sharp contrast to the southern drawls you were used to.

“Um… Y-Yeah,” I said faintly, glancing back at the door that I’d come in from. “Um… L-Louis wants me to ask you… Can you walk me home? Or give me a ride? I don’t… I don’t know if you drive…”

“I do drive.”

“O-Oh. Okay. Great.”

“But I don’t have my car on me.”

I peered at him curiously. “Oh. Um… I can just walk by myself. I don’t wanna… I don’t wanna be a nuisance…”

He stood up, tossing his cigarette to the ground and stomping it out. “Don’t be ridiculous, darlin.’ Come on. I’ll walk you.” He shoved his hands in his pockets as he began to head for the street. “Besides… It’s a real nice night.”

“Oh…,” I said in surprise at how ready he was to be of service. “Okay. But only if you’re sure.”

A faint smile graced his lips as he glanced at the ground, letting out a faint chuckle that rumbled deep in his chest. “I’m sure, darlin.’ But you gotta lead the way.”

I was surprised by the rapid pitter patter of my heart beat as we walked side by side down the street, the chorus of ‘Yellow Brick Road’ getting stuck in my head on a loop.

Bucky was an enigma that I found myself wondering about more often than not, but I always ended up talking myself out of going there. After all, he was an older man. A much older man. At least fifteen years older than my own twenty-two years, or something along those lines, not that he looked it. The man looked like some kind of rugged Greek god. Like Hades if Hades was born in the eighties. His dog tags clinked together under his shirt as we walked, his metal prosthetic glinting in the moon.

“So how did you end up in NOLA?”

It took me a moment to even realize that he was talking to me, my heart skipping a beat and my face going hot in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” I asked.

His bright blue eyes flickered over to look me over. “How’d you end up in New Orleans?”

“I actually don’t know,” I snorted, avoiding his eyes as I kicked at a few broken up pieces of asphalt. “I just… Picked a bus ticket and ended up in one of the Carolinas. Then I picked another bus ticket and ended up in Minnesota. And then I picked another, and another, and another, and then I actually just… ended up here.” The months I’d spent alone on those Greyhounds felt both so long ago and also like it was just yesterday. “The diner was the first place someone recommended for food that’s good but cheap, and as I was eating my mountain of cheese fries, I saw the flyer that said they were hiring. So here I am now…”

“Huh,” he said, his brows furrowed. “I didn’t take you for the type of person to run off on your own… riding buses all over the country…”

Head tilting to the side, I gave him a long look. “You didn’t? What kind of type did you peg me for?”

Bucky gave me a long look, a single brow raised as though silently telling me that I jumped to conclusions. “Just that jumping from place to place can take a lot outta someone,” he said slowly, his voice low and soothing. “Hell, if you were my girl—” He broke off as his cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink, his long hair falling in his face.

I swore my heart had stopped inside of my chest, and I swallowed thickly around the lump in my throat. “Oh?”

He rushed to try to correct his wording. “I-I just mean, a lady should be comfortable. And if I had a g-girl like you, well… You’d never want for anything,” he stammered, stumbling over his words like a flustered school boy. “Hell, I… I’d give you the stars and the moon…”

I was shocked into silence, staring up at him like he was the sun itself. “Bucky…”

“No, no, don’t say anything. I… I know that was a lot,” he insisted quietly, unable to meet your eyes as he stared up at the shitty apartment building you called home. “Hell, you probably don’t want a gross old man hitting on you.” His metal hand, glinting in the low light of the street lamp, reached up to brush against my cheek for just a moment before it quickly dropped. “Just let me walk you home each night so I can make sure you’re safe, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I breathed out, unable to take my eyes off of him as he took a few steps back.

There’s a somewhat playful smirk on his lips as he watched me stumble up the steps, continuously glancing back at him. “Goodnight, baby doll.”

“Goodnight,” I said, barely audible before I finally headed inside.

Bucky kept his word. He walked me home every night, and honestly, there wasn’t a moment that I wasn’t thinking about what he had said, about if I was his girl.

What if I was his girl?

But… with that meant I’d have to give up the life I’d dreamed for myself. I wanted luxury, to never worry about bills or where I was gonna get my next meal or if I could afford to buy the nice work shoes or if I could only get the cheap ones that would fall apart in three months and then I’d just be right back where I started.

I wanted the life that celebrities lived. Hell, I wanted to go to parties on the same yachts the Kardashian-Jenners did, even if I couldn’t fucking stand them.

And with Bucky… I wouldn’t have that.

“So why’d you go on the run anyway?” Bucky asked one night as we sat on the curb, eating ice cream in the Louisiana heat. “I know you told me how you got here, but you’ve never told me why.”

“You’ve never told me how you ended up here or why either,” I shot back, nudging his shoulder with my own.

Somehow the age difference seemed non-existent as we sat there. Honestly, I felt like we were just a bunch of dumb teenagers, shooting the shit and enjoying each other’s company.

Bucky took in a deep breath, his shoulders sinking in a way that made it look like he had all the weight of the world on his shoulders. “I was over in Afghanistan for a long time,” he admitted quietly. “When the war first started, I was 19. I had no idea where my life was going and I had no options except my dad’s mechanic shop. So I enlisted with my best friend, Steve. The one I told you about.”

It’s completely silent except for the sound of an occasional car horn off in the distance.

“Neither one of us knew what we were doing. We realized very quickly that we had no reason being over there, but… but there was nothing else,” he said, swallowing around the lump in his throat. The ice cream he was holding was melting in his trembling hands. “I didn’t know how to do anything else, so I stayed. Steve moved up in the ranks, but I stayed pretty low… I didn’t mind. Kinda liked being the older guy all those young kids could talk to, could rely on… Because they were just like me, getting into a fight that wasn’t theirs because they had nothing else.”

My heart was shattering inside my chest as I scooted a little closer, my knee knocking against his as I tried to give him some sort of silent comfort. He’d been through Hell and made it through.

Bucky let his head rest against mine, his eyes closing as he breathed in the scent of my perfume. “They eventually moved me to some kind of specialized team… Called us the Howling Commandos. I found out that Steve was heading it and he picked me to be part of it. That’s how I met Sam, because he was on some sort of similar team with the Air Force, except it was just him and his friend, Riley,” he continued, taking a bite of his chocolate fudge brownie ice cream. “I am proud to say that I didn’t kill a single person while I was over there. I just couldn’t. Hell, they’re people just like me, terrified and unsure of what’s going to happen.” His lips pressed against my forehead, letting it linger. “But then about five years ago, I was on a mission with the Commandos, Sam, and Riley, and… this bomb went off while we were playing a game of soccer. I wasn’t even in a fight. That thing took my arm and it took Riley.”

Tentatively, I let my fingers find his, holding his hand and squeezing reassuringly.

“Sam decided to come home with me.” There was a forlorn look in his eyes, as though he was right back at that game of pick-up soccer. “After losing Riley… he couldn’t find a reason to be over there. And then Steve decided to stay, and hell, he’s still over there, leading that fucking team…” Glassy baby blue eyes finally found mine, the both of us doing our best to not cry. “I couldn’t face my family for a long time, so Sam asked me to come stay in Louisiana with him and his family, and I haven’t left since.”

“Have you gone to see your family?” I asked slowly, almost like I was scared I’d frighten him if I spoke too loudly, like a wild animal. “Let them know where you are? That you’re safe?”

He turned to look at me, his baby blues shining. “You worried about me, baby doll?”

“I can’t help it,” I said honestly, unable to tear my eyes away. I hadn’t opened up to someone like that in so damn long. “I can’t help but worry about you.”

The way that I felt about Bucky absolutely terrified me, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. It snuck up on me, like a train coming around a bend.

I hated it.

“What do you want out of this life?” Bucky asked on one walk home, his arm linked in mine. He’d become so much more… tactile. If anyone took a moment to look at us, they’d think we were a couple on a romantic stroll.

Perhaps we were.

But I couldn’t help but grin as I looked up at the sky, taking in the warm air. “I wanna live like how the movie stars do… I want a big house on the beach and twenty cars and a yacht and… and…”

He looked at me long and hard. “And you never wanna have to worry about where your next meal is coming from, if you’re gonna have a place to sleep at night…”

For some reason, I’d felt a bolt of panic over whether or not he’d understand. Whether or not he’d think differently of me, but I should’ve known that he wouldn’t. Hell, he knew me better than anyone else.

“You understand,” I said quietly, my hand squeezing his bicep gratefully. “I want to live how the other half lives for once. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

A small smile graced his features as we shuffled along. “There isn’t. But… What about love?” He asked.

“Love?”

“Love.”

Love.

Could I even have love? Did I want it?

“I don’t know if there’s a lot of room for love in my plans,” I admitted after a long moment. “In my experience, love has always just been a lie. A word used to manipulate and eventually abuse.”

Letting out a snort, he let his fingers tickle down my tricep until his fingers intertwined with mine. “I’d show you it’s not… I’d show you what real love is,” he said. “I’d give you every part of me, give you all my strength to help you grow into who you wanna be, even if I don’t particularly care about being famous or rich…” He brought my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles. “I’ll give you a love story, a life, that’s a million times better than any recycled Hollywood plot… I’ll give you the stars and the moon, if you would just let me.”

I hated the way that he made my heart beat faster, the way my breath hitched. “Jamie,” I breathed out quietly, the two of us having stopped in our tracks to just… take each other in. Live in each other’s presence for a moment. “I…”

“You want a big life… one a lot bigger than little old me,” he said simply, shrugging. His blue eyes were so honest, so loving. So warm. A warmth I hadn’t ever experienced before. “I know. But that doesn’t change that I’m in love with you. And if you ever change your mind…” Bucky reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, pressing it into my free hand. “This is where you can find me. I figure it’s time for me to go home.”

We’d come to a stop in front of my building, and I was shocked at how tight my chest felt. My eyes watered as I stared at him long and hard. “Jamie, please… I⏤”

“Don’t say it. It’s okay,” he insisted as he cupped my cheek, letting his thumb run over my skin as though he was memorizing it. “I just want you to be happy, darling. You got that?” His lips pressed to my forehead, letting it linger. “Go get that life you’ve been dreaming of.”

Twenty-Three

I left New Orleans the next day, grabbing a bus ticket after throwing all of my belongings into my old duffel bag. It was time to move on.

But God, did it hurt.

I didn’t stop crying for weeks, fighting the urge to go right back to Louisiana and tell Bucky to take it back, to get him to beg me to stay with him.

But what kind of life would that leave me with? Working in the diner day after day? Never getting anywhere?

But you’d have James, a voice inside my head reminded me snarkily.

Then again, he most likely wasn’t even in New Orleans anymore, if what he said was true when he gave me the business card of his father’s mechanic shop. Was he really planning on going home to New York City?

A few months later, and I’d worked my way all through the southwest to Santa Fe, where I met Pietro.

My heart was pounding as I pressed in the familiar numbers, having memorized them from the business card now soft and faded from how often I held it in my hands like a lifeline. “Come on… Pick up… Pick up…”

“Barnes Tires and Motors, this is George,” a man said in a gruff voice when he finally picked up. “How can I help you?”

“H-Hi, is James there? James Barnes? Bucky?” I stammered out, hands trembling so bad that the old payphone was almost rattling.

There was a pause, and then muffled talking away from the phone.

And then I heard it being picked up. “This is Bucky,” he said.

It felt like the wind had been knocked right out of my lungs. How had I gone so long without hearing his voice?

Breathing in sharply, I tried to figure out the words to say. But my throat was dry and it was like I’d suddenly forgotten the entire English language.

That was all that it took for Bucky to realize it was me. “Baby doll? Baby doll, is that you?” He asked quietly. “I…” He took in a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “You don’t gotta say a thing, sweetheart… But just know that if you’re in trouble or you need help or… or anything at all, you better call me…” His voice wavered, as though he was fighting tears just like I was. “God, I miss you so much, baby doll. I love you.”

I love you, too.

I hung up before I could actually say the words. “God, I’m so fucking stupid,” I whispered as I leaned back against the wall of the gas station I’d found myself at, rubbing the heels of my hands into my eyes.

My dumb ass had decided to wander from the bus station, and I’d walked over a mile away. Unless I was staying in Santa Fe for a bit, I’d need to start making my way back.

“You okay?”

In my distress, I hadn’t even heard the rumbling of the motorcycle or noticed the handsome man making his way to me. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” I said even as I wiped my nose with a pathetic sniffle.

He eyed me for a long moment, his eyes roaming over my figure. “You hungry? I know a great little place nearby. My treat.”

And well, I was never one to turn down free food.

Even if that ‘little place’ ended up being a food truck.

“You know, when you said it was a little place, I didn’t picture it having wheels,” I said teasingly, licking salsa off of my lower lip. “Though, it is the best food I’ve ever gotten from a food truck before.”

“Oh, come on. This is the best food of all time!” He laughed, shaking his head.

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” I snorted, finishing off my flautas.

Pietro looked at me long and hard. “So, are you gonna tell me what the hell was going on to have a pretty girl like you all teary eyed?” He asked, his head tilting to the side.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Was this your plan all along?” I asked. Wiping my hands off on a napkin, I did everything I could to avoid his eyes. “Get me all fed and then question me?” But at the same time, the thought of being able to finally talk to someone about it was so appealing… After a long moment of hesitation, I finally gave in. “I fell in love with a man, and he let me go because he knew that I want a life he can’t give me,” I said. “And I was a bitch who didn’t even tell him I love him back when he said it to me.”

Pietro took in a deep breath, slowly letting it out. “Damn. You really are a stone cold bitch, aren’t you?”

“Hey!” I indignantly threw a chunk of tomato at him, glaring. “I just opened up my heart, you dickwad.”

“Dickwad?!” He said, blinking at me in shock. “No one’s ever called me a dickwad before.”

I raised a single eyebrow at him. “Maybe not to your face, but they definitely have.” He gave off the vibe of a fuckboy, of a really, really bad fuckboy.

“Well, since you’re running away from your feelings, how about you spend a week or two with me on the road?” He asked with a grin.

I couldn’t help but blink at him in shock. “What?” I let out a laugh, pulling one of my legs up to my chest. “Do you throw that line out to every girl you meet? Or am I just special?”

Pietro threw a chip at me, and I barely managed to dodge it. “No, I don’t. But… You remind me of me. Needing adventure. A life bigger than four walls and a fence.”

Instinctively, I wanted to snap back that sometimes, four walls and a fence could be an adventure, could be the biggest life there was, as Bucky’s face flashed across my mind.

But I couldn’t do that. Not when I wasn’t ready to face the truth myself.

“Come on, sweet cheeks,” he teased as his foot hooked around mine. “Just think of it. The open highway, a rhythm beneath your feet… Nights full of passion and days of adventure…” Pietro’s voice was deep and husky, as though he was trying to lure me in. “No strings… just warm summer rain soaking us to the bone before we find some cheap motel to huddle down in…”

Plastering on a smile, I stood up and brushed myself on. “Thanks, but… I’d rather be drinking champagne, and the quicker I get to LA, the sooner I will be.”

He let me go with a kiss on the cheek and his cell number pressed into my hand, with a promise to come and pick me up the second I rang.

And despite how sweet he was, how wild and funny and charismatic, there was only one man I wanted to call.

Twenty-Four

I sipped at my martini as I sat at the rooftop bar, absentmindedly watching the television that was mounted on the wall as people droned around me. I’d been in Los Angeles for a year, and I’d spent my time finding the best places to find a husband who could give me the life I dreamed of.

As much as I didn’t want to admit it, it took connections to build a career, and the best way to get a foot in the door when nepotism was so rampant was by marrying someone in the industry.

My silk dress was the most expensive thing I owned, something I’d saved up for months for, had skipped meals for. And fuck, was it worth it. I could feel the stares, the lingering gazes on the little bit of thigh that was exposed by the slit in the dress.

I’d already turned away several men, able to tell just from their expensive watches and cheap suits and shoes.

It was amazing how all the up and coming finance bros thought they fit in with the truly big dogs.

“Well, hello, gorgeous.”

I turned to see who was speaking, my heart skipping a beat when I realized who I was speaking to.

The world famous (or infamous) director, Tony Stark.

“Hello, handsome,” I said smoothly, my lashes fluttering innocently as I took a sip of my horrible drink.

I fucking hated martinis. Always had.

But ordering a martini was more sophisticated than ordering a frozen strawberry margarita.

“Is this seat taken?” He asked as he motioned to the empty bar stool right next to me, even as he was already sitting down. “Let me buy your next round.”

“I can’t think of anything better,” I said, feeling as though my dream life was already in reach.

Twenty-Eight

“Tony, where are you taking me?” I laughed as I let my boyfriend lead me to the private dock at our Malibu mansion.

Well, his mansion. I just happened to also live there.

It had been a whirlwind of a year since I had met Tony, and he’d bought me that second round. He’d taken me all over the globe, anywhere my heart desired.

But I made sure to avoid New York City, though he never understood why. I would never tell him.

Not when I was so close to my dream. I could practically taste it.

“Come on, come on. I have a surprise for you,” he said, keeping his hands over my eyes. He was sure to keep me from tripping and busting my ass, thank god.

The ocean waves were so comforting as they hit the shore, a sound I’d gotten used to over the past year.

He finally brought me to a stop, quietly telling me to keep my eyes closed. “Okay,” he said finally. “Open them.”

My eyes slowly opened, adjusting to the bright light of the California sun. But I was more shocked by the sight of Tony on one knee in front of me, holding out a box with a sparkling diamond ring in it. “Tony?”

The ring was the size of a fucking meteor. It was easily the biggest ring I’d ever seen.

“You know, I never thought I’d meet someone like you,” he said quietly, his dark eyes shining. But his voice was steady. “Someone who understands me, who doesn’t expect me to change into someone I’m not. You accept me as I am, and that’s why I want to give you the world.” He couldn’t help but grin as he nodded to the right. “Starting with that yacht you’ve always dreamed of.”

I hadn’t even noticed that there were two yachts at his private docks instead of just the one. The new one had SS Princess emblazoned on the side, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh… Tony…”

“So, what do you say?” He asked, bringing my attention back to him. “Will you be my wife?”

“Yes.”

Thirty-Two

Swallowing nervously, I looked down at the business card in my hand for the millionth time, the stock paper soft from how often I’d looked at it in the past ten years.

Hell, just how often I’d looked at it in the past six should’ve made it fall apart by now. Not that I didn’t have it memorized.

I’d finally ended my marriage after being miserable for so long. I’d gotten my yacht, my fancy houses, my career, all the jewelry that I could dream of, and none of it made me happy. Tony and I… never grew. And I never dreamed. Every day was the same, and every day was torture as I realized that I didn’t have the one thing that actually mattered.

The garage in front of me was busy, music blasting and the sound of men shouting to each other as they worked.

Suddenly I felt absolutely ridiculous wearing a Chanel dress and Gucci heels, an Hermés bag on my arm.

BARNES TIRES AND MOTORS was lit up along the top of the shop in bright red letters, though the lights in the ‘r’ of ‘motors’ were out.

I felt like a fool. I had wanted the life I had so desperately that I gave up everything for it. I got the movie star life, my name on billboards and my face on magazines.

But it wasn’t ever enough.

My heels clicked against the blacktop as I slowly made my way towards the front area of the shop, bells clinging above my head to let them know someone was there.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” A man asked as he came around the corner.

He looked so much like Bucky, it punched the air straight from my lungs.

“H-Hi. I’m looking for James Barnes. Is he here?” I asked after a long moment of hesitation. There was no way that the man was Bucky, but I didn’t doubt he was related.

The man raised his brows, wiping his hands on a rag. “My son’s in the shop. I’ll take you to him.” His full head of hair was white, his thick facial hair matching. Even with all the wrinkles on his face, he was a handsome man. Holding open the door for me, he led me into the loud shop, some eighties rock song blasting over the speakers.

I couldn’t help but smile as ‘Rock You Like a Hurricane’ by Scorpions came on. It was one of Bucky’s favorites back when we worked in the diner together.

“BUCK! YOU GOT A VISITOR!” The man shouted, causing several people to look our way.

My cheeks felt hot as I avoided their gaze, hoping they wouldn’t recognize me. I didn’t want to be a famous movie star anymore, a celebrity that had to beg for scraps of privacy.

My mind went numb, my heart stopping inside my chest as he stepped around a gray Ford Escape another man was working on.

He was even more handsome than he was the last time I saw him.

“Can I help y—” He broke off, his blue eyes going wide when he realized that it was me. “Hi.”

All of a sudden, everything I’d planned to say flew out of my head. All of the eloquent words I’d strung together were gone. And I just proceeded to word vomit.

“Did you know that, uh, when you marry someone you’re not in love with, you won’t… you won’t grow into it?” I asked, my voice shaking. “Um… I married a man who could give me a life I thought I always wanted, and he just… sucked.” Eyes stinging, I fought back against tears. “And I thought that all I ever wanted was the life I have now, was the life movie stars and the Kardashians lived. But… But I hate it. I hated every second I was away from you.” I let out a weak laugh, unable to stop the tears. “I wanted to turn around the second I got on the bus in New Orleans, but my stupid stubborn ass didn’t. I should have. I should’ve gotten off and just run right back to you because I… I love you, James. I always have.”

The garage had gone almost deadly quiet, and my heart sank when I realized Bucky looked almost frozen in shock.

“I know that I shouldn’t have showed up like this,” I scrambled to say. “But I… I’ve been trying to get my divorce finalized for two years and I finally did, and I kept telling myself that once it was done, I’d never hold myself back from what I really want ever again. From who I want. If… If you want me.” My face felt like it was on fire, my hands shaking. I shook my head as I took a step backwards. “What am I thinking? There’s no way you’re not married. I… I’m so so—”

Before I could finish the word ‘sorry,’ Bucky had closed the distance between us, his hands cradling my face so gently. He held me like I was made of fine crystal as he kissed me. He kissed me like his life depended on it, like I was the one source of oxygen.

And I kissed him back just as fiercely. “I love you. I love you so much,” I breathed out in between kisses, unwilling to let him go as my Hermés bag fell into the dust and oil on the concrete below.

Bucky smiled into the kiss, his arm wrapping around my waist to keep me pressed to his chest. “I love you so much, darlin.’ God, I’ve missed you…” His nose nudged against mine as we finally broke for air, both of us breathing heavily.

My knees felt like Jell-O as I held onto him. His grip was the only reason I hadn’t fallen to the ground already.

“I’m sorry I was a dumb twenty-two year old,” I said, snorting as he stole another kiss.

“No… Don’t be sorry,” he insisted, his fingers massaging my scalp as our foreheads pressed together. It was like he was scared to stop touching me, like I would disappear at any second. “You were young… You had to go out and make your own mistakes… I’ve just been waiting for the day you were ready.”

All the years apart melted away and all that remained was the two of us, two souls so intertwined that there was no way to truly separate us.

Our lips were half molded together as I said, “I’m never leaving you again. I promise I swear on everything…”

My heart almost stopped inside my chest as I heard someone clearing their throat, looking to see Bucky’s father staring at us with his arms crossed over his chest. “M-Mr. Barnes, sir…”

He gave a crooked smile that was so reminiscent of Bucky that I couldn’t help but grin back. “The Mrs. will wanna know if you’re staying for dinner.”

“Yeah,” I said as I looked up at Bucky, toying with a strand of his hair. “That sounds perfect.”

Later that night, Bucky and I laid in his bed, a mess of bare limbs as his fingers ran up and down my back soothingly. “What do you want from this life, baby girl?” He asked absentmindedly.

Humming, I traced shapes on his bare chest, sometimes pressing a kiss to where his prosthetic met his shoulder, on the tender scar tissue. “You.”

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, despite the already mischievous look on his face. “Really? Not even the stars and the moon?” He asked teasingly.

I knew he’d give it to me anyway, give me all that he could. But I was sure now that the only thing I wanted from this life was his love. “Not even the stars and the moon.”

[merci-bitch]

Her Lover

Alma LeFay Peregrine x fem!reader

Warnings: abuse, swearing, death, fluff, angst

Words: 5k

A/N: it’s been a while, hasn’t it. Lol. I’ve been having my exams and shit and I’ve been working on this for the longest time so I’m really sorry if there’s a word that’s not supposed to be there, I don’t really proof read. But hopefully more stuff shall be coming soon. Ta ta! Xx

Jake was surprised, it was all real. What his grandfather had told him, all those stories. They were real. It was unbelievable. At first, when he saw the boomed children's home he didn't really believe it. As that man said at the pub. 3 September 1943. No one survived, but then how come Miss Peregrine's letter had only come 2 years before to his grandfather. How was that even possible?

When we first entered the loop, he of course ran away and nearly got himself killed. Thankfully his new friends saved him from those angry Walsh people. The house looked so different from those ruins he saw. It was actually a very beautiful house. Big and tall and all those flowers growing up on the sides. Completely different.

Miss Peregrine wasn't anything like he'd expected. Not at all, despite from all the stories he'd got from his grandfather. Apparently she was the bird flying above him and his father when they first arrived to Cairnholm. Ever since Jake arrived, he'd notice that on the bird's right hand, her ring finger. There was a small ring with a single diamond. Jake knew it wasn't probably wasn't his thing to ask, but he didn't see anyone else then the people he'd already seen. His grandfather had never really mentioned anything or anyone else then the ones he'd already talked about.

He had helped Emma with the baby squirrel, it was a bit awkward wrapping the rope around her waist. He'd noticed Miss Peregrine's glare, it was uneasy. As if she felt some sort of jealousy? But that was ridiculous. Absurd. Jake had agreed to join them for supper. Emma was helping him in his grandfather's old room. He just couldn't but ask.

"Emma, could I ask you a question?"

"Jake, I told you that there are questions I can't answer." Emma said as she tied his tie.

"I know, but it's just. Does Miss Peregrine love you? Like, that way?"

Emma stilled. Almost uncomfortably.

"Jake. What's got you to even think of such disgusting things?!"

"I'm sorry! It's just, I saw her glare." Jake held his hands up in defeat.

Emma let out a sigh. Looked down before looking up again. "You must understand. Miss Peregrine, well all of us lost someone dear. It's taking her long time to actually get back to who she is. So please, stop asking questions." As she finished speaking the bell rang. They both walked down together and Jake almost sat down on Millard.

"Millard. Go and put some clothes on. Polite persons do not take their supper in the nude."

Jake almost felt sorry for him, he didn't mean to take his place really. He couldn't see him, obviously. He was, well he is invisible. During dinner, he couldn't help but stare at Miss Peregrine's right hand with that ring. Her long slim fingers with those long nails. The ring was silver. The small diamond was pretty. And shiny.

"Claire, why aren't you eating?" Miss Peregrine asked, looking with worry to Claire. Chewing on the piece of food.

"She's embarrassed in front of Jake." Hugh said, leaning over to Claire.

Jake shook his head. "Don't be. Please."

Claire looked over at Miss Peregrine with a small smile and Miss Peregrine sent Claire a wink before turning back to her own food. Claire grabbed the chicken leg and put it behind her head and a few seconds later she put the clean bone back on her plate.

"So Jake, what's your peculiarity?" Horace asked. Leaning over the table a bit to see Jake as he asked.

"Oh, I'm not peculiar." Jake stammered.

Enoch put down his fork and knife and said, "And that, my friends, is why he will not be staying with us. No matter how hard we try to persuade him."

Miss Peregrine spoke up again. Her voice light but firm. "We've spoken about this. Jake is just visiting."

Hugh opened his mouth, "He might want to say."

"Don't you want to stay, Jake?" Olive asked.

"Tonight? Or..-" Jake didn't get a chance to finish of his sentence before Claire irrupted him.

"Forever! You should stay forever." Her smile big.

"Why would he, if he doesn't have to? He can live out there, grow older, have a good time instead." Enoch said. Trying to make a clear point of why he didn't want Jake in the house. Jake could feel Emma slightly lift from her seat despite being strapped down. She was getting uncomfortable.

"He'll leave, just like his grandfather did." With that, Enoch started eating again and Emma got up and practically ran out of the room despite her heavy shoes. Miss Peregrine's call for Emma didn't stop her. As Emma left, a clothed Millard came into the room. Excusing himself. Sitting down and starting to eat his own food.

"Deep breathes Alma, you know how dear Enoch gets with new company."

Miss Peregrine closed her eyes at the voice inside her head. She was right. She slowly got up as the telephone rang. "I think you should all get ready for movie time while I answer that."

"But you always let us stay for it." Claire begged. Miss Peregrine turned around and gave the children a glare that almost scared Jake. She was a strange woman, yes she was. Miss Peregrine stepped out to the hallway, to the ringing telephone. This time, she nearly didn't answer it. Wishing the voice inside her head would come back. Missing the touch of that person with the voice nearly threw her off guard. She nearly kicked herself from going off schedule. Shaking her head, she answered the telephone and went on with the schedule.

The time went on, again. Horace's projected his dreams. One particular dream made Alma tense up. She couldn't watch it. She turned on the lights and heard all the groans from the children. It was almost re-set time. Olive asked Jake to stay and see the re-set. Enoch clearly didn't want him to. Alma felt herself chuckle softly. The arguments between Enoch and re-set. Alma stepped out in her raincoat and put on her gas mask after putting on the music. Run Rabbit Run. She would always sing along to the song-Alma kicked herself mentally again. She stopped her clock, she turned it 24 times to represent the 24 hours of the loop. She took of the gas mask and smiled towards her children.

She said her goodnight to the other children as Emma and Jake made their way out the door. Her smile faded as they disappeared from her view. She closed the door, knowing Emma would lock it. She slowly made her way up the stairs, to the end of the hallway, to her bedroom. She opened the door and walked in and closed the door again and locked it. Leaning against the door and closing her eyes.

"You know me better then I do. Can't seem to keep nothing from you. How you touch my soul from the outside. I still love you even though I'm scared. Learning to be grateful of myself. I wish I could love me like you did, how I wish I could trust myself like you did."

She moved from the door and towards her desk and sat down and started unpinning her hair. Brushing through her hair slowly. That black-blue hair. The little curls. She got undressed and dressed in her lacy nightgown and brushed her teeth and took off the makeup she'd been carrying during the day. She laid down in the cold bed, shivering slightly. Falling asleep after a few minutes.

***

"Clarice! Clarice come on. We have to get back. We can't stay in La Pari forever. We've been gone 7 years too long!" Claire let out a groan and stopped walking. "But Y/N! I love Paris!" Y/N shook her head. Her little sister was definitely a number. "Well, you wrote to Alma we'd be home, so let's go." Clarice didn't move. "I? I didn't write. She's your wife." Y/N felt herself tense up. Oh no. Y/N had forgotten to write, and she'd hopped her darling sister had written.

"When was the last time You wrote back home Clarice." Y/N looking over at her sister, with a glare almost identical to Alma's. Clarice bit her bottom lip. "5 years ago." Y/N felt her head spinning. She sat down and rubbed her forehead. Clarice started laughing. "What's so funny?!" Clarice threw her head back in laughter.

"Oh lord, the handful you will get when you get back. I mean Abe will definitely be in her side." Clarice said while patting her older sister's shoulder. "God. She'd kill me. I swear, I didn't mean to forget and I thought you'd been writing." Clarice shook her head. "But you're right. Let's go home."

***

"Jake, you're back. How wonderful." Miss Peregrine said as she held the Ymbryne tight to her.

"How's it doing?" Jake asked. "Emma said it was an Ymbryne."

"She. Not 'it'. Ymbrynes are always female." Miss Peregrine said as she looked up at Jake. "And Emma was quite correct. This is Miss Avocet." Miss Peregrine continued to give Miss Avocet the medicine.

"Her loop's in Blackpool, England." Jake said. Miss Peregrine slowly turned her head up towards him and saw him holding a piece of paper. "That was a private letter, Jake." She said as she put down the medication.

"Who is Mr. Barron?" Jake asked, slightly raising his voice.

Miss Peregrine's face expression turned blank and her right hand came almost protectively over Miss Avocet.

"Miss Peregrine, if my grandpa was involved with dangerous people. I need to tell the police." Miss Peregrine looked up at Jake again, her brows knitted with confusion.

"Police? Are you implying Abe died an unnatural death?" Her voice going quiet.

"I found him in the woods, with his eyes missing. I'd say that was pretty unnatural." Jake said as he watched Miss Peregrine raise from her chair. Miss Peregrine looked at Jake in disappointment, snatching the letter out of his hands.

"Unless essential, I don't discuss unpleasant matters. An Ymbryne's duty is to protect children, Jake." With that, she left the room, almost in a hurry.

"I'm not a child! He wanted you to tell me everything!" Jake shouted after her. Jake let out a sigh of frustration and walked down the hallway and was stopped when both Enoch and Olive came into his view.

"Oh. How frustrating for you. Between Miss Peregrine's rules and my housemates' little pact not to scare you off, it's like no one's telling you anything." Enoch was sarcastic. Olive stood quietly behind him. Jake leaned forward.

"Why don't you, then? It's not like you want me here."

This time, Olive spoke up.

"Enoch, you can't. You promised." Enoch looked back at Olive before answering.

"Olive's right. I do know someone who can get away with breaking rules though. Want to meet him?" Jake looked a bit uneasy at Enoch before following him up the stairs. Olive behind them.

"Enoch, don't do this. Please!" She grabbed his arm, begging him not to do whatever he was going to do.

"You want to spend time with me and Jake, we can all play together. That's what you said." Enoch said as they reached a door at the end of the hallway. Olive stood in front of them. Not letting them pass through the door.

"Well, here we all are." Enoch said. Olive looked up at him with a bit ready expression. "Move Olive."

"If you're going to be like that, then I don't want to be your friend." With that, Olive left. Sobbing quietly to herself while walking down the hallway.

"Enoch, leave Victor alone. It really upsets Bronwyn." Fiona said as she walked up to Enoch and Jake. Enoch put both his hands on Fiona's shoulders, "Stop fussing, Fiona. Don't you think Jake should meet everybody?" He said while looking over at Jake.

"He's trying to frighten you away, Jake. He's always jealous of Abe. And now he's jealous of you. Come and play with us instead."

Enoch crossed his arms and looked at Jake, waiting for an answer. Jake didn't really know what to say.

"I'd quite like to meet Victor." Jake said after some time. Enoch smiled and ruffed Fiona's hair. Enoch opened the door, letting Jake walk in. "After you."

In the middle of the room there was a bed, covered in thin layers of fabric, and Jake saw Victor, lying there. He slowly walked in, moving with small steps towards the bed.

"Hello, Victor. I'm Jake. I'm sorry to disturb.." Jake looked down at Victor. His eyes were missing.

"Yeah, he can't hear you." Enoch said. Enoch got on his knees and opened Victor's shirt and put the heart he held down into Victor's chest. Jake saw how Victor's chest started to heavy. Almost like a jump scare in movies, Victor sat up and looked over at Jake.

"Hello, Jake. I'm Victor. Do you want to know what killed me?" Almost like a puppet he was. It scared Jake and he ran out of the room, downstairs where Miss Peregrine and the rest of the children were waiting.

"Ah, there you are. Is Enoch with you? It'd time for our daily walk." Miss Peregrine said.

***

Alma walked into the room where Victor lay. Sighing once seeing Victor's covers down. She pulled them up, making sure they covered him and slowly sat down. Noticing the tear falling down his cheek. Softly wiping it away and pulling him up and held him against her chest.

One of the most disappointing things she'd ever done. How she couldn't be able to save Victor, how she'd let her poor child die. She never meant for him to die, she never meant for Bronwyn to lose her brother. Alma felt herself tear up.

"It's alright Alma, you did what you could and for that, Victor will forever be grateful."

She really wanted to believe those words. Oh, how hard life could be. She couldn't let herself to cry. She'd always say it was alright to cry, but Alma just couldn't. She slowly put Victor back in his place and looked at her watch. She had a few minutes before the children would be back, but she had to keep schedule.

Alma walked out of the room, closing the door. Walking down the hallway to the right and then further down that hallway and then into her own bedroom. Closing the door behind her, locking it. Just in case. She quickly walked over to the dressed against the wall, opened a drawer and pulled out a shirt that didn't belong to her.

Sticking her nose deep into the fabric, closing her eyes and breathing in the familiar sent. Holding onto the shirt tightly. Alma felt her eyes sting.

Why did life have to be so cruel? Why couldn't just one person live a life and be happy. Is it only fairytales that get their happy endings and not people in the real world? Was the 'perfect' life all just a big lie that you were told on the television outisde loops? Why couldn't you just live yourself in your dreams? Wouldn't life be so much better if you could? It would save all troubles from people.

Alma slowly sat down on the bed. Still holding the shirt tightly to her. Breathing in the sent again. Letting her eyes roll back for just a second. Accidentally losing herself in the sent. Letting a soft moan escape her mouth which caused her to blush. Hand covering her mouth as she blushed even more.

"My shirt hm?"

Alma turned around with a gasp. No one was there, she let out a sigh. Alma got up again, checked her clock and put the shirt back in the drawer and walked downstairs. Waiting for the children to arrive back home.

***

"Clarice, where was the loop again?"

"You can't be serious. We lived with Alma for years, you're married to her for gods sake!" Clarice sat down in the damp grass, crossing her arms. Letting out a huff.

"Awh, stop acting like a bloody kid! Maybe help me instead of acting like such a bloody moron!" Y/N answered to her sister.

She let out a huff and sat down on a rock. Y/N felt bad. She'd been gone 7 years too long and Alma probably thought she was dead. Just because her little sister didn't write as she used to. Y/N reaches into her pocket and pulled out a few photos. Photos she took, before she left.

Most were of Alma. It was one of the only times she'd let her time be taken from her. She missed the bird.

"Could you stop sobbing and perhaps do something to help? You cant stare at th-hey. Y/N. Was that Abe?"

Y/N looked up and saw nothing. She turned to her sister and hit the back of her head.

"Very funny."

***

The children were packing after they're realisation that they couldn't stay. As Alma had finally gotten the suitcase to close, thanks to the twins, the doorbell rang. How odd. She hadn't expected anyone. Alma walked up towards the door and opened the door and felt her whole body tense.

"Miss Peregrine, what a pleasure to meet you at last!"

Mr. Barron was holding his hand shaped knife against Jake's neck. Alma felt her breathing stop for only a second. What on earth was happening?!

"May we come in?"

Alma took a few steps back, letting him inside the house. Her children standing on the stairs.

"Children! Would you make your way down the stairs, please?" Mr. Barron shouted.

Alma raised her voice. "I give the orders in this house, Mr. Barron." Looking at him sternly.

"Not today. You should know that Jake has served his purpose. If you value his life, I suggest everyone does as they're told. Children!"

Alma raised her finger and shushed him. "No one tells my children what to do!" Alma turned around, a split of disgust in her expression. "Children, come down here, please." Her voice was strong but soft.

The children made their way slowly down the stairs.

"Miss Peregrine-"

"I thought I told you to be quiet." Alma snapped back at him. Giving him one of her famous death glares. She slowly made her way around again to look at her beautiful children. Knowing she might never see them again.

"Children, for Jake's safety, we're going to do what Mr. Barron asks. He wishes to take me with him to his rendezvous in Blackpool. So, for his protection, he'd like me to assume bird form, preferably caged. And he'd like you to make your way into a lockable room, such as the parlour." Alma turned her frame towards the parlour then back to her children before turning around to look at Mr. Barron.

"As he won't release Jake if he fears an attack could be mounted upon him once he loses his leverage. Correct, Mr. Barron?" Alma raised her chin, showing how she awfully despised him. Mr. Barron was at loss of words.

"You're sacrificing yourself and all of us, for Jake?"

Came behind her, Alma turned around and looked at Enoch.

"Me. Barrons travels with a Hollow, Enoch. Once it arrives here, we're all dead." She could almost feels Mr. Barron's wicked grin behind her. Alma saw Horace lean in to whisper something to Enoch but didn't bother to listen. It took everything not to shed a tear. She'd lost everything now. The woman she loved the most, her dear children. Everything.

She moved towards the parlours door and said her goodbye to each child that passed her, ending with a hug from Emma and the twins which made her she'd a tear. Once every child was inside the parlour, she grabbed the door handle to each door and took a deep breath and looked over her children.

"It's been my privilege, to care for you all. Goodbye my children."

Alma closed the doors and turned the lock and turned to face Barron, showing her anger through her tear stained cheeks. Taking steps forward.

"Now let him go."

"Oh, but the fun's just begun Alma." Barron let out a low chuckle.

"How dare you speak my name, filthy bastard." Alma tightened her tone. Growing more impatient by each second that passed.

Barron let out another chuckle, this time of surprise.

"My my, what words those pretty lips let out. Tell me, how's dear old Y/N doing?"

Alma clenched her jaw. Feeling as she might explode.

"How dare you speak her name?! How dare you come here, act like you own everything I have. You took her from me! How dare you mention anything of her's. I know what you did to her family, how her parents practically coward before you. On their knees begging to not die. Letting their dear children's lives pay their depth."

As Alma continued, Barron only chuckled. Jake was confused. Who was Y/N? What did this woman mean to Miss Peregrine?

"Technically I wasn't the one who sold her, her mother was. Her dear parents are still loyal to me as ever. I'd never gotten a chance to meet dear Y/N. So tell me, where is she?"

This time, it was Alma's time to be confused.

"What do you mean by that. No tricks Mr. Barron. I want the honest truth."

As he let Jake go, letting out a groan. "Listen, lady. I'd never meet her. If I had, do you think I'd be asking you? So come now Miss Peregrine. Where is she. Her mommy and daddy just wanna say hello."

Alma felt herself start to tremble. Y/N hadn't been in Barron's possession.

She'd spoken to Jake. Begging him to care of her children before turning into bird form. Flying into the cage. Leaving with Mr. Barron. If her dearest was really alive, she'd never see her again. Nor her beloved children.

***

"Emma, I have a question. Look-I know you don't answer them but it's about something Miss Peregrine said before she turned into a bird. Who's Y/N?"

Emma went quiet for a moment, not really wanting to speak. Jake let out a sigh and continued to talk.

"Mr. Barron said he'd never meet Y/N before. What does this mean-who is she?" Jake looked t Emma who's eyes looked at his. A slight tone of happiness appearing on her face.

"So, that means she could still possibly be alive." Emma's smile got bigger.

"Who is she? Is she another peculiar?" Jake was growing impatient.

Emma sighed. "Alright, if I tell you. Will you stop asking?"

Jake nodded his head and sat down and waited for Emma to speak.

"Y/N came to our home years ago, before Miss Peregrine had made the loop. She came with her sister Clarice. When they came they were both pretty young. I think Clarice was 15 and Y/N perhaps 20. I heard Miss Peregrine talk with them about what had happened to them. It wasn't really, nice."

Emma sat down herself and took a deep breath.

"Mr. Barron came to their house, in the middle of the night and killed their brother, well took his eyes. He was around 8. She talked about how their parents had sold them to Barron for their own safety. But before Barron could touch them they'd ran away. They'd taken the boat and arrived here."

Jake listened as she explained more about Y/Nk's past. But there was just one question bothering him.

"What about the ring on Miss Peregrine's finger?" Jake asked.

"Y/N and Miss Peregrine kinda fell for each other. A few years after the loop was created, they got married. Then again a few years later, perhaps 7 years ago. Both of them left, Y/N and her sister. But after two years they stopped writing back home. We heard nothing from them and since Barron wanted to recreate the experiment Miss Peregrine told you about.”

Jake nodded, shocked. He had nothing against the LGBT community but he’d never thought Miss Peregrine was a lesbian. Perhaps she wasn’t, maybe just fell for the one person she trusted most.

They went on, the plan to save Miss Peregrine.

***

“Clarice, fix it. Please. Something has happened.”

Y/N was panicking. The loop was gone, not a child in sight. Alma wasn’t here either. Clarice had the peculiarity of restoring time, she restored the loop. Made everything go back to normal. The house looked itself again but no child was there. What the hell happened. How long has the house been like this? Clarice was too busy walking to her room.

Y/N looked around, saw suitcases. Were they leaving? But why, and where? It felt strange being back in the house, but with everyone gone. Y/N walked around, touching the walls and everything. Y/N walked upstairs and into the bedroom she once shared with Alma and closed the door behind her. Alma’s perfume hitting her like a smack in the face. The scent of smoke, flowers.

She pulled open the drawer and pulled out one of the dark blue lacy nightgowns and spelled. Alma. Y/N looked out the window. It was dark and it was raining. Y/N loved the rain. She walked over to the window and sat down by the window and opened it to listen to the rain and felt herself drift off into sleep.

***

Alma opened the door and walked in. How in the hell was the house still standing? She hadn’t reset the loop. She was wet and she was tired and drained. She quickly walked into the bathroom connected to her room and took a warm, long and hot shower. She wrapped the towel around herself and stepped out. Looking in the drawer for her nightgown but it wasn’t there. Alma turned her head to the figure she saw sitting by the window and nearly had a heart attack.

She grabbed her pillow and hit Y/N with it multiple times.

“You reckless little-“

“Alma, hey! Stop hitting me!”

“I have every right to be angry at you! I thought you were dead. For 7 years you’ve been gone and then you stop writing?!”

Y/N could see Alma’s cheeks turning red from anger. She stepped forward, grabbing the pillow out of Alma’s hands and kissed her knuckles. Which made Alma shut up.

“Why’d you do that to me, to the children.” Alma’s voice was on breaking point.

Y/N looked up, into those blue eyes. “I never meant to. I forgot to write-“ Alma cut her off with a snort.

“Of course you did.” Alma took the nightgown from Y/N and dropped her towel and put it on. Feeling Y/N’s eyes on her. It made her shiver. Then she felt arms wrapped around her waist and a soft kiss on her right shoulder. “I’ve missed you. Please don’t leave again.” She felt Y/N shake her head and turned around in her arms and kissed her lover on the lips softly. Nearly losing herself in her lover’s lips. Laughing softly after feeling Y/N’s hands tickle her sides.

“I hate you.”

“You love me birdy.”

[blossom-hwa]

valentine’s day + stray kids ✧

the enablers: @wingkkun​​ by virtue of their existence and @thepixelelf​​ bc of her @newskynet​​ valentine’s day prompt list (which can be found here! check it out :D) anyway you can blame them for my word vomits tonight tomorrow <3 happy early valentine’s day and I hope you enjoy these blurbs!

pairing: stray kids x gender neutral!reader (one blurb for each member!)

wc: 3.5k (total)

genre: fluff, lots of fluff, university!au

triggers: cursing

golcha version | the boyz version

SKZ Scenarios Masterlist | SKZ Drabbles Masterlist

1. “shit, what day is it again?”

when chan opens the door to a beaming you, he has no idea what’s going on. he still has headphones around his neck, there are definitely bags under his eyes, he hasn’t slept in maybe close to twenty hours, and there is definitely something important that he’s forgetting, judging by the nonplussed expression that has now slid over your face. 

“chan, when did you sleep last night?” you ask, stepping into his dorm. you’re holding something behind your back that chan’s craning his neck to see, but you catch sight and twist away. “hey, no looking.”

the knowledge that you have something is more than enough, though, to get his overly tired brain actually thinking. his eyes narrow. what the heck is he forgetting - 

oh. 

oh no. 

chan scrambles around for his phone as you look over, eyebrows rising as he pats his pockets. “shit, what day is it again?” 

you hold up your own phone, giving him an eyeful of your lock screen set to a picture of himself laughing into the camera. he isn’t focused on that, though - he’s focused on the words underneath the time that say “february 14, 2021.”

“oh my god, it’s valentine’s day.”

“no shit, sherlock.” you put a finger to his forehead and press hard. “i made reservations.”

“what? okay, no, i swear you didn’t tell me about this -”

“i didn’t, chan.” you smile, shaking your head. “it was supposed to be a surprise. and i knew you’d forget the day or something because you always do lose track of time - hey, don’t look at me that way, i even made a bet with minho on the way and i’m right - so i came early to force you to sleep for several hours before we go out.”

okay, that’s fair, but chan’s lips curve downward into a pout anyway. “i didn’t forget,” he protests. “well, i forgot today, but i still have something for you! i got it last week.” he looks around frantically, then drags a box out from underneath his bed. “here!”

a wide smile splits your face and you pull your own present from behind your back, a red-wrapped box that chan begins to open as you cuddle the teddy bear he’s handed over to you. “chan, you sap,” you say, words muffled in the bear’s fur. “god i love you.”

“and i love you too,” he replies, pulling out a box of his favorite candy. “kiss?”

laughing, you press your lips together once, twice before pulling away. “sleep time,” you announce. “no kisses until you’ve gotten at least three hours.”

chan all but lunges into bed, trapping you with him between his arms. “sleeping now,” he says, voice muffled into your shirt. “goodnight.”

“good afternoon, more like.” you smile anyway, stroking his hair. “but good night.”

18. “oh my god, this chocolate tastes like chalk.”

minho is about to lose his shit in this tiny hospital bed with the sterile white sheets and curtains barring sunlight from streaming on his body. back when his ankle wasn’t broken to high hell, he really hadn’t given the sun enough appreciation. after three days of almost zero movement, though, he swears he’ll actually go outside voluntarily once he gets out of here. 

the door opens. a head peeks in. 

ah. there’s his daily dose of human sunshine. 

a smile slides onto minho’s face as you come in, arms full of snacks and flowers. you place a bouquet of red roses on the little table beside his bed and dump the snacks onto his sheets. “happy valentine’s day, idiot boyfriend who broke his ankle just three days before today.”

minho scowls. “it’s not like i tried to.”

“i know. even you’re not that dumb.” you pat his head mockingly, laughing as minho’s scowl deepens. “sit up, idiot. here, i’ll help.”

he allows his frown to turn into a grudging smile as you help him sit properly in bed, careful not to jar his ankle before passing him one of the bags of chocolates in his lap. “jisung gave this to me for you and asked me to ask you if you would be his valentine.”

minho pauses in opening the bag. “what.”

“jisung for you.” you laugh. “his partner was right next to him laughing their ass off. try the chocolates.”

he picks one out. puts it in his mouth. chews. “oh my god, this chocolate tastes like chalk.”

“what - how the fuck do you know what chalk tastes like?”

“i don’t, what the fuck? i just imagine it would taste like this.”

you snort. “so my boyfriend first breaks his ankle dancing three days before we valentine’s, and on this romantic day i learn he’s definitely eaten chalk.” you sigh, snatching a bag of gummies from the sheets. “what a day.”

“i don’t eat chalk!”

“bet.” 

he opens his mouth to reply, but you cut him off with a kiss. “eat your chalk chocolate,” you direct when you pull away. “or jisung will get upset.”

“ugh fine.” he rolls his eyes. “but i’m only listening to you because i love you.”

“cheeseball.” you smile. “i love you too.”

20. “babe.” / “since when do you call me babe?”

grinning, jisung picks up the bouquet of roses you were about to hand him before falling to the ground in laughter. “these for me?”

“no, they’re for my valentine.” you snatch them back, still wheezing. “which was going to be you, but you ditched me for minho, so now i need to find someone else.”

“aw, come on.” jisung pouts, pursing his lips actively even as you try to hide the smile on your face by turning away. “y/n! y/n. y/nnnnnnnnn. y/n, look at me. please? y/n. babe.”

“what the - jisung - since when do you call me babe?” your half disgusted, half amused face sends him into hysterics as he glomps you in a hug, laughing into your shoulder. “hey, sung! get away! you’re drooling on my clothes!”

“am not!” jisung pulls away, trying to pout but laughing too hard to do so. you just looked so fucking funny. “and what’s wrong with me calling you babe?”

“don’t do it again.” you push his shoulder. “do not. you won’t like the consequences.”

“consequences?”

“one, you don’t get these flowers. i’ll put them in my own room.” you wave the bouquet in front of him. “two, i give chan the all clear to play ‘wow’ on his campus radio station.”

“you wouldn’t dare -”

“three, no kisses for a week.”

jisung falls to his knees. “no, no, y/n, my beautiful and wonderful significant partner, i will never call you babe again, please don’t sentence me the barren world of no kisses for a week just because of my idiot mouth -”

“jesus christ, jisung, get up. you’re making a scene.” you laugh anyway, pulling him up before placing a chaste kiss on the corner of his lips. “i was just joking. but please don’t call me babe if you don’t want me to cringe to the next dimension.”

“done deal.” jisung holds his out his hands. “flowers?”

you roll your eyes, handing them over. he breathes in their scent, smiling widely. “they’re so pretty!” then he looks up and winks. “but not as pretty as you.”

at that, you laugh again, crushing the bouquet as you wrap him in a hug. “i love you so much, jisung,” you murmur into his ear.

his arms reach out to loop around your waist as he pulls you closer. “i love you too,” he replies, smiling.

for a moment, you two only stand, finding peace in each other’s warmth. then jisung’s mouth runs once more.

“you know, i wrote my lyrics for ‘wow’ thinking of you.”

“do you have to ruin every moment?”

14. “you’re seriously asking me out on valentine’s day?”

changbin doesn’t even bother to reply to the picture jisung’s just sent of the flowers his partner gave him. he’s too nervous, his stomach literally fluttering as he stops his motorcycle by the curb and wheels it into the shop.

“hi, welcome, what can i - changbin?” you raise an eyebrow. “did you seriously bang up your motorcycle on valentine’s day?”

changbin’s ears turn bright red. he knows it even if he can’t see them. you think he always comes here because something else has magically gone wrong with his motorcycle, but what you don’t know is that he’s been pretending things are wrong with the vehicle for months at this point just so he has an excuse to see you. 

and now it’s valentine’s day. the day he chose to fess up and admit how he feels and ask you on a date. 

heck. 

“nothing’s... broken.” changbin scratches his neck. “uh...”

both of your eyebrows are now high up on your forehead. “so why are you here?”

“i...” he coughs, feeling his ears flare even hotter. “i wanted - i wanted to ask if you -” he looks down, unable to look at you. “i wanted to ask if you would go out with me today. like. on a date.”

silence. he doesn’t have the courage to look up. 

“you’re seriously asking me out on valentine’s day?”

changbin shrinks behind his motorcycle. holy fuck, this was the worst idea, you’re about to reject him and his heart is going to shatter -

then you step forward, place a hand on the vehicle. “okay, that came out wrong.” you tip his chin up gently so he’s forced to look into your soft, teasing eyes. “what i meant is that i’d love to go on a date with you today. i just didn’t expect you to ask me out on valentine’s day. didn’t seem like a very you thing to do.” you pause. “though i guess considering that song you played for me last time, it isn’t that surprising.”

oh, god. on track. changbin wrote that thinking of you. 

“wait, seriously?”

he really just said that out loud. changbin groans, slapping his forehead. “why am i dumb,” he mumbles into his hand. 

you laugh, peeling his hand away with grease-covered fingers. “you’re not dumb, bin. just sweet.” as he melts from the use of your nickname, you wave your greasy palm in front of his face. “let me go wash and tell seungmin to close up early. i’ll be out in a second.” you grin. “looking forward to whatever you have planned.”

(later, when you wrap your now clean arms around changbin’s waist on his motorcycle, he smiles so wide it feels like his face is going to split.)

25. “i love you.”

with a relieved sigh, seungmin locks up the shop, wiping grease-stained fingers on a towel. despite the fact that he mostly only handles the register, dirt still manages to get everywhere, even when he tries to be careful. 

doesn’t matter. seungmin likes his job, likes it even though it’s a little hard to be independent from his parents after so many years of living off their credit card. the freedom is sweet, though - now he can learn what he wants, do what he wants, and best of all...

now he can date whom he wants.

seungmin smiles, running up to his dorm so he has just enough time to change and shower before meeting you. he cleans up quickly before grabbing the singular rose in a glass on his desk and racing downstairs once more, hair still slightly damp, to meet you in front of the building. 

god, you’re beautiful, standing against the backdrop of the afternoon sun. in the moment that you don’t notice him walking out the door, he runs forward, smiling, before engulfing you in a back hug. 

“hey - oh, seungmin.” he can hear the smile in your voice as you clutch his hands hanging around your shoulders. “you scared me!”

“sorry,” he says, pulling away to spin you around. god, looking into your laughing face, seungmin knows everything was worth it. he may have lived in the lap of luxury before, attending parties every other weekend and drinking the finest champagne while dressed in the most resplendent clothing (courtesy of the kim family empire), but luxury doesn’t mean much when he was missing real, true love, right? you were one of the first, other than hyunjin, to see through his cold facade and break into the warm heart underneath. 

as he hands you the rose, he’s glad, so glad that you gave him the courage to go head to head with his parents for the first time, to finally break away from their strangling control over every bit of his life. what did he need parties and designer clothing and jewels for, anyway? he’s still living, still able to support himself even if it means a little more work. and even if he’s tired, he has your lips to come back to, every day. 

“i love you,” he murmurs, kissing you softly, sweetly. “i really do, y/n.”

“so do i,” you breathe, smiling against his lips in reply.

12. “valentine’s day... that’s the one with the bunny, right?”

hyunjin kind of wants to hit you, significant other or not. judging by your shit-eating grin, you probably know exactly how he feels, but you keep your eyes as soft and innocent as possible. “no, i don’t know what day it is, hyunjin. isn’t it just february 14?”

“y/n.”

“hyunjin.”

he groans, sinking dramatically to the ground. “it’s valentine’s day.”

“oh. right.” you adopt a thinking expression, raising your eyes to the sky. “valentine’s day... that’s the one with the bunny, right?”

“y/n!”

“i’m kidding, i’m kidding!” you finally laugh, reaching out a hand to pull him up from the university quad. “hey, get up, hyunjin. you’re going to get your designer clothes dirty.”

shit, he is. hyunjin accepts your hand, dusting grass bits off of his shirt. “you’re so mean,” he whines. “to think i had a whole evening planned and all, just for you to pretend to forget the entire day.”

“ah, but i didn’t forget. i only pretended to.” you grin, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “and to prove it, i have something for you! close your eyes.”

eagerness and apprehension flooding his veins, hyunjin shuts his eyes. for a moment, he hears you digging around in your bag, and then you put something in his hand. “here!”

opening his eyes, hyunjin looks down to see a pair of elegant earrings in his palm. you made them, definitely - he can see the tiny mark of your initials etched in the metal of one earring, his initials on the other - and he smiles wide, so wide, all of your previous transgressions forgotten in this moment. “i love them,” he says, already unfastening the hoops currently in his ears to put the new ones in. 

“i thought you would. hey, let me help.” your fingers take the earrings, deftly inserting one into each ear. “perfect.”

“i have something for you two, but you’ll get it later.” hyunjin pockets his old earrings before taking your hand. “right now, i’m taking you on a date.”

“what, i have no say in this?” your eyes sparkle. 

“nope!” hyunjin laughs, swinging your arms in the air. “come on, i swear the evening’s going to be a lot of fun.”

“i believe you.” you stop him to kiss him once, softly. “everything’s fun with you, hyunjin.”

15. “shut up and kiss me.”

with the brownie box in his hands almost empty, felix makes every effort to dodge anyone who knows for fear that they’ll ask for one of the last few treats left inside. hyunjin took like five earlier, jesus christ, even when felix warned him he was saving some for you. ungrateful brat. 

thankfully, no one accosts him, and he makes it to your meeting place without interruption. there you already are, mindlessly twirling a bouquet of roses around in your fingers. as he approaches, you look up, and felix is (once again) blown away by the intensity of your smile. 

some people liken him to the sun. others, with his freckles, compare him to the stars. both, though, felix thinks are more proper descriptors for you and your lovely grin that’s as bright as the sun and the stars combined. 

“felix!” you stand as he comes closer, handing him the roses. he passes over the box of brownies and you screech in delight, taking off the lid and popping one of them into your mouth. “oh my god, it’s so good.”

“don’t talk with your mouth full,” felix scolds, smiling anyway. “do you only love me for my brownies?”

“maybe” is the cheeky reply. you laugh as felix reels in mock astonishment, placing a dramatic hand to his chest. “i’ve been betrayed,” he wheezes. “stabbed in the back by my one true love who turned traitor to our romance, how will i live -”

“hey, felix?”

he looks up. “hm?”

your eyes sparkle. “shut up and kiss me.”

your lips taste like chocolate, sweeter even than the brownie you just finished. felix puts his arms around you, rose petals brushing against your back as he holds you close, close, closer - 

“oh my god.”

a familiar voice makes felix pull away from your lips as he turns around. “jeongin?”

“nope, nope, nope,” the younger boy chants, eyes fully closed. “i saw none of that, jesus christ, come on, let’s go -”

too late, felix notices the person standing next to his friend, eyes also screwed shut. a smirk rises on his face. that must be jeongin’s crush, he thinks as they race away, the crush he’s been sweating over asking out for the last few weeks. 

“aw, man.” felix frowns, suddenly coming to a realization. “jeongin probably wanted to confess here.”

“he’ll do fine,” you laugh, tugging at his arm. “now get back here. we’re not finished.”

felix smiles, pulling you close once more. “no, we aren’t.”

6. “no one’s ever given me something like this before.”

listen. jeongin did not need to see felix making out with his partner right before he was about to confess. not only did it completely ruin his plans to talk to you in the prettiest part of campus, but he also has an image seared into his mind that he really does not need. 

“sorry,” he mutters, still unable to look at you. 

“it’s fine.” jeongin can hear the second hand embarrassment in your voice. “it wasn’t your fault. uh.” you pause. “you said... you wanted to tell me something?”

right. jeongin squeezes his eyes shut, desperately trying to erase the previous images from his brain. “yeah. i did. um.” he swallows, then forces himself to look into eyes that sparkle in the fading sunlight, eyes that he fell in love with so many months ago when you two first worked on that project together. 

thankfully, his words don’t fail him. “i just wanted to say i like you a lot, y/n.” jeongin keeps looking at you, even though all he wants to do is run away screaming. “as in... i want to ask you out. if that’s okay with you.”

silence. 

then you start giggling. 

jeongin frowns. why - 

“oh my god, jeongin.” you double over on the bench, laughing even harder. “i’m so sorry.”

his heart sinks as embarrassment begins to burn his ears. “if you don’t like me -”

“no, no!” you straighten, wiping your eyes. “no, it’s not about that. it’s just -” you snort - “oh my god, you wanted to ask me out in the garden, right? but felix was there, and... jesus christ. jeongin, i’m so sorry.”

his cheeks flare red, but he also lets out a major sigh of relief that your laughter wasn’t a rejection. “yeah,” he says, a grudging smile climbing onto his face. “yeah, that’s pretty much what happened.”

you wipe your eyes again. “sorry for laughing. i didn’t mean to make fun of you or anything. i’d actually love to go out with you.” you smile. “really.”

“well, thank god for that.” jeongin huffs, cheeks still hot. “or i would’ve gotten this for nothing.” he holds out a small teddy bear. “this is for you.”

“oh.” you take it, eyes turning soft. “oh. no one...” you swallow. “no one’s ever given me something like this before.”

jeongin’s heart melts, it really does, seeing the slow, shy smile spread across your face as you hold the bear close. “thank you, jeongin.”

“you’re welcome,” he breathes, hardly able to find his words as the sun creates a stunning backdrop behind you as it begins to set. “happy valentine’s day, y/n.”

you smile wide, so wide. “happy valentine’s day, jeongin.”

[alinastracker]

hello my dear bonnie, if you're still taking prompts, can i suggest #47 👀 ?

LOVE THIS PROMPT!!! here you go my love<3

prompt: you’re casually seeing my roommate and think they’re in the shower when you strip down to join me and we end up screaming and my roommate thinks it’s the funniest thing and tries to set us up on a date

yikes at this going from a quick lil ficlet to 6.7k oof

would it be okay if i came home to you (explicit) (ao3)

Alina steps into the shower, wondering how the hell she ended up rooming with Zoya to begin with.

Don't get her wrong, she loves Zoya. But her raven-haired friend can be difficult, and she was supposed to have buffer. Originally, it was going to be her, Zoya, and Genya living together, until Genya backed out last minute to move in with her boyfriend David instead.

"I'm so sorry, but it just makes sense," Genya said to them over lunch one afternoon. "Besides, if things go how I think they will, you two will be on the same path that I'm on soon enough."

Zoya scoffed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Alina had the same question, considering both of them were hopelessly single.

Genya just sipped her tea and said in a sing-song voice, "You'll see."

At first, living with Zoya was fine. They agreed easily on most apartment related things; splitting up chores, rules about not touching each other's food, a timely heads up before having friends or potential sexual partners over. Zoya could get nit picky about a few things, like the lecture she'd given her on the proper position of the toilet paper roll. It goes over, Starkov, understand? Under is for heathens and natural selection is coming for them. But otherwise, things had been fine.

Until Mal.

He was a part of the friend circle she had surrounded herself with since freshman year. But there was something about Mal that had drawn her to him in a way that was different from the rest of the group — different from anyone else she had ever met. He was like a drug, a magnet, the missing link that had her saying, where have you been my whole life, when you're meant to be here beside me? So quickly he had become her closet friend, and as much as their group liked to tease them, they both denied feeling anything beyond fierce friendship.

But Alina was such a liar.

Which makes it her own fault, really, for ending up in this situation. Zoya could, quite frankly, be a bitch — but she wouldn't have gone after Mal if Alina had just owned up to her feelings.

Though she really could have told her about it sooner.

Alina had been studying in the living room one night when a knock at the door startled her. Zoya hadn't mentioned having company, and neither of them had ordered food. Hesitantly, she rose and stood on her tiptoes to peek through the peephole. Then her face lit up, and she swung the door open. "Mal!"

Saints, he looked good. He appeared freshly showered, dressed in a silky green shirt and dark jeans. He had actually put effort into his hair for once, and he had a small gold hoop earring in his left ear.

"Hey, Lina," he said, something a little off with the smile he gave her. As he passed by to come inside, she could smell expensive cologne.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, butterflies in her stomach. Her head was already filling with wild fantasies. He wanted to surprise her, so he showed up without notice. He put effort into how he looked, because he wanted to impress her. He was going to reveal his true feelings for her, and she would revel in the fact that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

Instead, Zoya entered the room and said, "He's here for me."

Mal had the decency to flush and offer a sheepish shrug. "I'm gonna grab some water," he said, and scuttled off to the kitchen. Of course, Mal had been here plenty of times before. He knew where everything was.

Alina had barely heard him though, Zoya's words repeating on a loop in her head. He's here for me. She knew what this meant, even as her mind tried to deny it. The room was spinning and she couldn't quite steady herself, like something had broken inside of her.

She swallowed, and as calmly as possible, said, "What happened to the heads up rule?"

Zoya arched a brow. "I texted you two hours ago."

Alina frowned and pulled out her phone. Sure enough, there was a text from Zoya. Got a guy coming over in a couple hours. She must have missed it, lost in her studies. But still, something in the text ignited anger in her chest.

"You could have said the guy was Mal."

Zoya shrugged, so frustratingly nonchalant. "What does it matter?"

It matters because I am so hopelessly in love with him, and you're supposed to be my friend, and now I have to blast music so I don't hear the sounds of you two fucking, she thought.

"He's my best friend," she said. "It's just a little weird, I guess."

"Don't worry, Starkov," Zoya said, turning toward the kitchen, probably to grab Mal so they could get the night started. "It won't affect anything between you two."

Alina waited until the two of them were tucked away in Zoya's room. Then she pulled on her old running shoes and slipped out — there was just no way she could be here, knowing what was happening in the room across from her own.

She ran with no destination in mind, pumping her little legs as hard as they could go, music pounding from her headphones. When she became too tired to go further, she checked her surroundings and sighed. Of course, her feet took her to one of her favorite places in the city.

It's not anything, really. A quiet street with an old abandoned building at the end of it. But on the building's brick wall is one of her favorite pieces of art. A mural of the sun, complex in its simplicity, using colors she had never seen used to express the sun before, yet perfectly capturing the feeling of a warm sunny day.

Alina leaned against the wall, slid down until she was sitting on the old, cracked sidewalk. Only then did she realize that she was crying. Turning off her music, she called Genya, and told her everything.

"You have to talk to Zoya," Genya said.

"No!" she said quickly. "I don't want her to feel bad. It's not her fault. And if Mal likes her — well, it's not like he's shown any interest in me. I'm not going to get in their way."

"Alina," Genya sighed.

"It's fine," she promised. "I just—" A sob escaped her throat, the pain overshadowing any coherent thought. It was not fine.

"Send me your location," Genya said, and Alina did.

She spent the night at Genya and David's that night, David promising he was more than okay with taking the couch so her and Genya could have the bed. Which was needed, because Alina had a lot more crying to do.

"Just don't tell Zoya," she said.

"Alina, I don't know."

"Promise, Genya. Please."

Finally, Genya sighed. "All right."

That was four months ago. Zoya had told her it wouldn't affect her close bond with Mal, but it had. Alina never invites Mal over anymore, too afraid that he'll come to watch a movie, sit on the couch beside her — much closer than most friends sit. They would point out everything terrible about it, because they loved to watch bad films together as they stuffed their faces with popcorn. Then the movie would end and Mal would say goodnight, but instead of leaving, he'd go to Zoya's room, and the popcorn they ate would sour in her stomach.

There were so many little changes, too. Like when they hung out as a group, and suddenly Alina was questioning every move she made around him. Was it still okay to playfully ruffle his hair, to sit close enough that their shoulders pressed together, to look at him like he personally hung the sun and the moon in the sky, all while Zoya was there to see? Was it wrong to look at his lips and fantasize about how they would feel against her own, pressed to her collarbone, sucking her most sensitive spots? Zoya and Mal were a casual thing, they had both said so. But still, the natural intimacy her friendship with Mal had built for the past two years suddenly felt wrong, and she hated it.

Needless to say, Alina has been looking into new rooming possibilities for next year. She can't do this anymore. Every time Mal comes over, she waits for them to lock themselves away in Zoya's room, and then she leaves. She runs to her sun, sometimes just sitting and letting her sad song playlist make her sadder, sometimes bringing her sketchbook to at least make art out of the pain.

But tonight she has a very rare opportunity — the apartment to herself. Only for a couple hours, but still. She has spent most of the time so far blaring music, and her neighbors probably hate her, but damn it, they can deal with it for a night.

She lets the music play as she takes a much needed shower. Sure, she could have gone the bath route, but she doesn't want to waste all her time getting clean. Alina has decided her hours alone should end with a much needed date with her vibrator and an Owen Gray video that she's going to watch without headphones.

Olivia Rodrigo's Brutal is pounding from her speaker, and though Alina's twenty-one, not seventeen, the lyrics hit all the same. She's so into the music, thinking about her life for the past four months, thinking about moving as soon as she possibly can, thinking yeah, it really is fucking brutal out here, that she does not notice the telltale signs of someone entering her apartment, and even more worrisome, someone entering the bathroom. Not until it's too late.

"Thought you were too cool for Olivia Rodrigo," a very male voice says, and then the shower curtain opens.

Screams fill the air from both of them. Alina's already holding her conditioner bottle, and on instinct, hurls it at the man's chest while her other hand reaches for her razor.

"Oi!"

Only then does her mind register that it's not a strange man come to sexually assault her, it's Mal. Her best friend. Her roommate's casual lover slash fuck buddy slash whatever. It's Mal, completely naked before her. She gets a quick glimpse of his cock, half-hard, before he curses and turns around.

It doesn't help that his backside is just as nice to look at. He's well toned, muscles flexing as he reaches to grab the clothes he must have just discarded. He bends, giving her the most sinful view of his ass, and Saints, her mind goes wild. She pictures him turning back around and pushing her against the wall, slamming inside of her. As he fucks her, she would reach around and grab that delicious ass of his, dig her fingers into the plump skin, and leave little half-moon indents.

Mal is apologizing over and over again — "I thought you were Zoya!" — as he gathers up his clothes and makes a beeline for the door. Alina finally snaps out of her filthy fantasy and slides the shower curtain closed with a shaky hand. She leans back against the tiled wall, breathing hard. Her heart is pounding like never before.

The song is winding down. Olivia is crooning, God I don't even know where to start.

Neither does Alina.

~

By the time she musters the courage to finish her shower and leave the bathroom, her robe clutched tightly around her, there’s no sign of Mal in the apartment. Zoya isn’t back yet, either.

With a sigh of relief, she flops onto her bed. Her previous plans were out the window now. Taking a breath, she goes over the facts in her head. 

One: Mal has now seen her completely naked. 

Two: she has now seen Mal completely naked. 

It was the wrong thing to think about, because now she’s picturing the smooth expanse of his skin, his perfectly tight ass, and the quick glimpse she had gotten of his—

Heat pools between her thighs. She’s positively aching, when she should be feeling horrified. She should absolutely not be reaching for her vibrator as she lets the images of Mal’s naked body settle in her mind. It’s wrong, because Mal is, at least somewhat, Zoya’s, and Zoya is her friend. Besides, it was Zoya that he had come looking for, Zoya that he wanted to fuck against the shower wall. 

But Alina does grab her vibrator, and as it buzzes her to multiple releases, she imagines Mal shoving her against the wall, pressing kisses to her neck, fucking her like it’s his sole reason for existing. Fucking her like she’s his, and he’s hers.

~

She doesn’t see Zoya until the next morning, passing out sometime after orgasm number three. Saints, if the memory of Mal’s bare skin had been enough to keep her going for three rounds, she wasn’t sure she could even handle actually being with him. 

When she walks into the kitchen, Zoya is sitting at their tiny excuse for a table. “Good morning,” Alina says as naturally as possible. 

Zoya only says, “Sit down, Starkov.”

It’s unnerving, how quickly can could take over her entire body. Saying nothing, still going for casual, Alina sits across from her. “What’s up?”

“That’s my question, actually.” Zoya arches a brow. “What happened with you and Mal last night?”

Shit, shit, shit. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I think you do. I know he stopped by before I got home. When I asked why he left, he got all weird and said something came up with Dubrov. But I know that’s a lie, because Dubrov was happily posting drunken stories last night. So obviously something happened when he was over.” Zoya sits back in her chair and stares her down, making her insides twist. “And since I don’t live with him, the only person I have to grill is you. So get talking.”

Alina sighs, knowing she isn’t strong enough to deny Zoya when she’s like this, and babbles out the story. Really, it wasn’t her fault. Mal was the one that walked in on her. It was just incredibly embarrassing for both of them. 

When she finishes, Zoya lets the information sink in, and then she laughs, harder than Alina has ever seen her laugh.

“Well I’m so glad this is funny to you,” she huffs, arms crossed over her chest.

“It is! I can only imagine your faces, shit.” Zoya wipes at her eyes. “Too bad you already know each other, that would make for one hell of a meet cute.” She pauses and says, “Well, it still could be your origin.”

Alina frowns. “Our origin?”

“You know, if you guys dated.”

She momentarily loses her breath. “What? No, you guys are a thing.”

Zoya rolls her eyes. “We’re fucking, Alina, that’s it. And actually, I was planning on cutting it off after last night.” She stands and pours herself what is at least her second up of coffee. “There’s someone else I’m interested in.”

“Someone else? Who?” Zoya says nothing. Alina pops up as it comes to her. “Oh! It’s that rich blond guy from the bar, isn’t it? The one that transferred here this semester. Nikolai or something, right?”

The tiniest blush spreads on Zoya’s face, and Alina squeals. “It is him! Saints, he’s attractive.”

“Yes, he is,” Zoya snaps. “And not bad for conversation, either.”

“Conversation?” She grins. “Why, Miss Nazyalensky, do you actually have feelings for this guy?”

Zoya scowls. “Shut it, Starkov.”

“Oh, you totally have feelings for him!”

“Keep it up and you will pay for this. I’m devising a plan as we speak.”

Alina just laughs. “Okay, Mrs. Whatever Nikolai’s Last Name Is.”

Under her breath, Zoya mutters, “Lantsov,” and stalks off with her coffee as Alina laughs harder. 

~

Zoya, apparently, hadn’t been kidding when she said she was devising a plan. 

When the weekend rolls around once again and Zoya texts the group chat they have with Genya about getting lunch, Alina jumps at the idea. She missed Genya, and it had been a hell of a week between juggling exams and thinking about her encounter with Mal. They haven’t spoken at all, and she had used her classes as an excuse to get out of any hang outs where he might show up. 

Zoya’s words from the morning after had been on her mind a lot, too. It still could be your origin. Could it? Was Mal even interested in her — and would he even want to try, after he’d had something with Zoya, or would it just be inevitably awkward?

Alina approaches the restaurant and sucks in a breath. She’s decided to finally tell Zoya about how she’s had feelings for Mal all this time, and maybe with her and Genya, the three of them can come up with what the hell Alina should do next. 

Zoya had texted five minutes ago saying she grabbed them a table in the restaurant’s outdoor patio, so she makes her way there. Only it’s not Zoya or even Genya waiting for her.

It’s Mal. 

He looks just as surprised to see her as she is to see him, and for a moment, she believes it really is some crazy coincidence. 

“Alina,” he says, standing. Neither of them can quite meet the other’s eye. “What are you doing here?”

Her hand is doing some nervous twitchy thing at her side, so she shoves it into the pocket of her dress. “I’m supposed to be meeting Zoya and Genya.”

Mal curses under his breath. “I’m supposed to be meeting Zoya, too.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Shaking her head and feeling incredibly stupid, Alina takes out her phone and fires off a text to Zoya, WHAT THE HELL????

The next message she receives comes from Zoya — only not in the text chat between the two of them, but rather a newly created group chat with the two of them and Mal. 

consider this the official end to our fuck-mance, oretsev. yalls little bathroom flash show was the perfect opportunity for a new beginning, because yes, i see the doe eyes you give alina when she’s not looking. you too, starkov. i’m sorry for getting in the way for so long. have a good date, no throwing bottles at each other xoxo

They finish reading at the same time, looking up from their phones, eyes meeting before flickering away again. 

Mal sighs. “I think I hate her.”

“I think I hate her, too.”

He scratches the back of his neck. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

Alina bites her lip. Because he doesn’t want to do this, she thinks. “Oh, well, I guess—”

Mal cuts her off. “But it might be a nice chance for us to talk.” Her head snaps up, and this time when their eyes meet, neither of them look away. He smiles shyly. “I missed you this week, Lina.”

Her smile matches his. “I missed you, too.” 

They sit, and after the waiter takes their order for drinks and an appetizer for them to share — a sample platter, both of them too indecisive for any singular thing — Mal starts to stutter out an apology. Alina stops him with a hand on his arm. He looks down at where her fingers brush against bare skin, and she wonders if he’s thinking about all the skin they’ve bared to each other now. She certainly is.

“You don’t need to apologize, Mal,” she promises. “It was an accident.”

He shakes his head. “Still, I can’t imagine how terrifying that was for you.”

“Well, it was,” she admits, then adds, “at first.”

“At first?”

She shrugs, but says nothing, thankful for their drinks arriving to save her from answering. Because the truth was she had been scared for maybe three seconds. Once she had realized it was Mal, she’d only felt desire.

With their awkward shower encounter out of the way, they fall into fairly easy conversation, complaining about exams and projects, annoying classmates and neighbors. Soon enough, they’re back to being themselves. Alina pulls out her phone to show Mal all the memes and TikToks she had wanted to send him this week, and he does the same. Hours fly by without their notice, and now the dinner crowd is filing in. 

“Oi, I think our waiter is silently praying for us to leave.”

She laughs, pulling out her wallet. “Definitely.”

Mal waves her off. “Let me get it,” he says, taking his own wallet out. “I mean, since this is apparently a date and all.”

Alina hesitates, a little flutter in her chest even though he’d said it teasingly. “Okay, fine. But I’ll get the tip.”

“Deal.”

When everything is paid for, they stand. Going home is the last thing she wants right now, and not just because Zoya will be there. 

Mal looks ready to pull her into one of their standard hugs, but pauses. “Do you want to come over? We can find something shitty to watch. Mikhael and Dubrov will be around, but I just really don’t want to see Zoya right now.”

Alina smiles, the flutter in her chest returning with vigor. “Yeah, okay.”

~

At Mal’s flat, they settle onto the sofa together, close enough that their shoulders brush. Mikhael and Dubrov tease them about looking like lovebirds, but otherwise surprisingly leave them be. She doesn’t mind their company — but admittedly, she was glad they stayed to their respective rooms tonight. Mal puts on an indie horror flick that’s so bad it’s good, and they laugh and joke with each other throughout, per usual. 

About halfway through the film, they share a knowingly look — their that foreshadowing is so obvious, RIP to that character in twenty minutes look — and sport matching grins. But when the moment passes, neither of them looks away. 

“Alina,” Mal says softly, and her breath hitches. Has he ever said her name with such longing before?

His eyes flicker down — to her lips. She thinks of Zoya’s text then, basically calling both of them out for having feelings for each other. And while neither of them had confirmed it, they hadn’t denied it either.

Her heart is beating so fast. She gives him the tiniest nod.

Mal understands, he always does, and then he’s leaning in. Their noses brush before their lips do, and it could be silly or awkward, but instead it’s a different kind of intimacy she hadn’t known she wanted.

“Alina,” he breathes once more, and then he kisses her, so softly at first, it’s barely anything. Her stomach is doing cartwheels regardless. She takes initiative, kissing him back. Still soft, still careful, afraid that whatever this is between them is something fragile, something that needs delicacy. In some ways, it is. Her closest friendship, blossoming into something more. 

Mal lets out the softest moan, and it snaps something between them. 

He pulls her closer, his hand on the back of her neck, and now Alina is the one moaning, fervor replacing the softness, the delicacy. It’s the kind of kiss she’s been fantasizing about, made even better from how obvious it is that they’ve both wanted this for a long time. A desperate kiss bursting with desire. 

Alina shifts closer until she’s practically straddling his lap. Mal brings one hand to rest on her lower back, the other curling into her hair. His lips move to her neck, trailing down until he reaches her collarbone, where he nips and sucks, undoubtedly leaving a mark. 

“Mal,” she sighs, her head tipped back from the feeling as her hips roll against his. He curses against her skin. Her hands move to the hem of his shirt, ready to pull it off. 

All of a sudden, Mal pulls away, stopping her hands with his own. “Alina, don’t.”

She blinks her eyes open. “Do you want to move to your room?”

Mal bites his lip and shakes his head.

Alina frowns, any warmth in her chest turning cold. She quickly returns to her own side of the couch. “I don’t understand. I thought you wanted this.” Wanted me, she thinks but doesn’t say. Because he certainly had no issues with Zoya.

“I do!” he says quickly, taking her hand again and trying to pull her back. She holds her ground, pulls her hand out of his. “I do want this, Alina. Saints, I do. But this is technically our first date, right? I don’t want to do first date sex, not with you.”

Alina rolls her eyes, looking down and tugging at a loose thread on her dress. “Is this where you say something you think sounds respectful but really just puts down all the girls you have had first date sex with?”

“Alina, please look at me.”

Grudgingly, she does. 

“You’re different because you’re my best friend, and because I’ve been hooking up with our mutual friend.” She flinches, but Mal continues. “I don’t want you to think we have to have sex because of that. What I had with Zoya — it was good, and I care about Zoya, but it didn’t go beyond the physical. That’s all we wanted from each other. But that’s not all I want with you.”

Mal closes his eyes. Alina’s unconsciously holding her breath. He exhales and opens his eyes again, holding her gaze. “I want everything with you, Alina. I want your highs and your lows. I want to take you against the wall as much as I want to hold your hand.” He does so now, both of his hands around one of hers, and this time she doesn’t pull away. “And if you didn’t want to be physical? I’d still want you. I don’t want you to think there’s anything we have to do. That’s why I want to wait — even if I also want to take you to my room and pin you against my bed, too.”

“Oh,” she says, barely audible. Alina shakes her head, a little speechless. “I don’t know what to say.”

The corner of his mouth tugs up. “Was that too rom-com confessional?”

The tension breaks. She laughs and climbs onto his lap again, wrapping her arms around his neck. “You’re such a dork, but you’re the perfect dork. So we’ll wait.” She pauses and looks up at him with innocent eyes. “But will you kiss me again?”

Mal grins, pushes her down against the couch, and does just that. 

~

When she gets home, Zoya is waiting in the living room, reading a smutty romance book Genya had recommended. “Hey, how’d it go?” she asks, too casually to actually be casual. 

Alina ignores her and walks straight to her room. She’s decided to let Zoya sweat it out a bit for the weekend after her little stunt, even if it was successful. 

Though really, she didn’t think it would bother Zoya that much. Hard as steel Zoya, who never let anything get to her. But on Sunday, she bursts into Alina’s room, interrupting her studying. 

“Okay, I know you hate me now or whatever, but at least let me tell you that I’m sorry. I didn’t know how much you liked him, Alina. Not until Genya told me.”

Alina closes her book, frowning. “Genya told you?”

Zoya nods and sits at the end of her bed. “Recently, when I told her about Nikolai and that I was thinking about cutting things off with Mal. Don’t be mad at her, just be mad at me.” 

“Well—” she starts, but Zoya cuts her off. 

“And honestly? The worst part is, part of me did know. I saw the looks you gave each other, but I brushed them off because I was selfish and enjoying myself. I was a really, really shit friend to you, and I’m so sorry, Alina. You don’t have to forgive me, but I just—

Zoya stops mid-sentence, cut off by the laughter bubbling out of Alina. 

“Saints, I never thought I’d see the day that Zoya Nazyalensky grovels.” She shoots her a grin. “I accept your apology. And as much as I want to hate you for your meddling stunt, it worked, because we definitely spent the night making out. I just did the whole silent treatment to make you suffer a little.”

A moment passes — Zoya is completely still, too still — and then she grabs one of Alina’s pillows and smacks her with it. “You little rat!”

Alina only laughs harder, fighting off Zoya’s pillow attack with her hands. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say sorry non-sarcastically! You did so well, Nazyalensky!”

“And you’ll never hear it again! You’ve lost apology privileges! 

Eventually, Alina moves into the living room to study, and Zoya joins her. When their brains need a break, Alina tells her about her date with Mal, and Zoya tells her about her own with Nikolai. If this is their new normal, Alina finds that she really likes it. 

~

The next week is outstandingly better than the previous. She’s back to talking to Mal each day, even more than before. Halfway through the week, he sends her a song with the message, This song made me think of you the first time I heard it, still does every time. It has her heart beating extra fast as she listens on her walk to class, not only because it’s incredibly sweet, but because Mal has played this song for her before, months and months ago, which means he’s felt this way the whole time. 

Early Saturday evening, Zoya announces that she’s spending the night at Nikolai’s. “He has his own apartment, so it just makes sense. I’ll be home in the morning, probably.”

Thank the Saints for rich boys. 

She texts Mal, and Zoya’s barely gone for ten minutes before he’s there. They make dinner together — well, Alina sits on the counter while Mal does the actual cooking, but he spends any down time kissing her, so she likes to think she was the moral support. They eat on the couch, watching their favorite trashy reality television, and play a few rounds of Mario Kart afterwards. Really, it’s just like how things were when they were simply best friends, except now Alina drapes her body over his as they watch their show, Mal’s thumb moving in slow circles on her ankle, and instead of talking or playing on their phones during ad breaks, they pick up where they left off in the kitchen, their lips pressed together in a blissful ease. 

They’re on their fifth game of Mario Kart, Alina in the lead, as she has been every round. She’s bragging about how she’s going to beat him again when suddenly her vision is blocked as Mal presses his lips to hers. 

Her surprise doesn’t stop her from dropping her controller and kissing back. She’s just getting into the kiss when Mal pulls away as quickly as he had started the kiss. He stands, and only then does she see he never dropped his controller. Picking up right where he left off, he steers Luigi towards the finish line. (“Who the hell picks Luigi?” Alina had asked him once. To which Mal responded, “It’s not fair people only care about his brother when he probably works just as hard at their plumbing business. It’s just like people only knowing Adam Levine and ignoring the rest of Maroon 5—” which led to a very cute rant that Alina spent less time listening to and more time staring at his lips while he was distracted.)

Alina fumbles for her controller, but it’s too late. Mal hasn’t come in first — some of the computers still beat him. But he’s beat her, which by the smirk on his face, was his only goal.

“You’re such a cheater!”

“It’s not cheating, it’s strategy.”

“I suppose you need your strategy, since you don’t have any skills.”

Mal raises a brow, a devious look in his eyes. “Is that so? Perhaps I should show you my skills, then.” He moves in front of her and kneels on the couch, a leg on either side of her body, essentially pinning her there, and kisses her again. 

Immediately, she can feel the difference from the strategy kiss and even the ones from earlier that night. He’s kissing with purpose, cradling her face with one hand, the other on her waist, and Alina is melting against him. She is putty in Mal’s hands, his to mold how he pleases. 

He’s holding himself so that his weight isn’t pressing down on her, but that’s exactly what she wants. Her hips buck up against his, and Mal pulls back to moan, “Fuck, Alina,” so she does it again.

“Please tell me we can have second date sex.”

Mal chuckles. “Are we even going to bother with the dating process?”

“I don’t know, are we?”

“I don’t know. Do I need to ask you to be my girlfriend?”

Alina grins. “I wouldn’t mind hearing it.

“All right. Alina, my beauty, my beloved, will you bless me with the honor of calling you my girlfriend?”

Her grin widens, and giddy butterflies dance inside her chest. No, not butterflies — fireflies. She can feel their warmth and wouldn’t be surprised if she was glowing from their light. “Oh, I suppose.”

Mal laughs. “I can’t stand you,” he says, and kisses her again.

Alina returns the kiss for a moment before murmuring against his lips, “You don’t have to stand me, but now that you’re my boyfriend, can you fuck me?”

He practically growls as he says, “Saints, yes,” standing and lifting her with him. Mal brings them to her room, kissing her the whole way. He unceremoniously shoves her school books off of her bed, laying her down and crawling over her. “You don’t know how often I’ve imagined this,” he murmurs, lips on her throat. 

“Tell me,” she gasps.

“Every time I came over, Alina. Every time.”

A shiver runs down her spine. “Even when you were here to—”

“Especially then.”

She has no idea what to do with this information. Her head is empty of thought save for the screaming need for more of him, so she pulls his shirt over his head. This time, Mal doesn’t stop her. Her hands roam over all the places she’s been dying to touch; down his back, tracing along his spine, up over his stomach, fingers running along the muscles of his chest, brushing over a few scars he’s accumulated through the years.

“You’re so perfect,” she whispers. Smooth in some places, rougher in others, but so incredibly warm everywhere.

Mal tips her chin up, kisses her lips once, hard, and then another to her jaw, down her neck, her collarbone. Then he’s the one tossing her shirt aside, his lips continuing their decent. He’s pressing soft words into her skin as he kisses her — beauty, beloved, cherished, my heart —murmuring his love for her even as he brings her nipple between his teeth.

“Shit, Mal,” Alina breathes. Her hips keep bucking, far beyond her control. He chuckles, murmurs something along the lines of no patience, and quickens his pace. Soon enough, he’s got her undressed completely — which isn’t too unnerving after the shower incident. Any lingering nerves flee once his head is between her thighs. She’s suddenly very thankful Zoya isn’t home, because even though it’s never been a problem during sex before, she absolutely cannot control the noises she’s making — and she’s loud.

Mal returns to her with glistening lips. She kisses him and tastes herself, a thrill better than any rollercoaster. Her hands move to the waistband of his pants, giving a half-hearted tug. “Off.”

“So lazy,” he teases, unclasping the button on his jeans, tugging down the zipper. “I could always make you work for it.”

“Have mercy on me, Oretsev. I’m still recovering from the pleasures of your cocky mouth.”

He looks so proud of himself, she wants to kiss him just to wipe the smirk off of his face. “If you enjoyed my cocky mouth, just wait until you feel my—

“Do not finish that sentence.”

But then he’s pushing down his boxers, and all Alina can do is stare as the cock in question springs free. He’s fully hard this time around, and her thighs squeeze together at the sight. He watches her as she practically drools over his dick, his smirk becoming even, well, smirkier. She reaches out and curls her fingers around his length, giving him two quick strokes — both to clear the smirk from his face and because she so very much wants to touch him. 

“Fuck, Alina,” he hisses. He’s reaching for his jeans, probably to grab a condom from his pocket, but she grabs his hand.

“I’m on the pill, and I’ve been tested recently.” Of course, there’s still a slight risk. But it’s Mal — finally Mal — and she wants to feel every inch of him.

He pauses, then nods. “Okay.” Crawling over her, he takes one of her hands and intertwines their fingers. With his other hand, he grips his cock and drags the tip through her folds like the damn tease he is, eliciting needy mewling from her that he seems to enjoy. In her ear, he murmurs, “How do you want this, Alina?”

“I don’t want to be able to walk tomorrow.”

Mal chuckles softly, but the sound so close to her ear sends more shivers down her spine. “As you wish, moya solnishka.” My little sun.

She has only a brief moment to bask in the sweetness of his words before he’s slamming into her all in one go, anything sweet flying out the window. Mal keeps a steady rhythm while sucking on her neck, which is good, because all Alina can do is moan incoherently as her nails leave scratches down his back.

When he senses her getting close, Mal brings his finger to her clit, circling just right. “Saints!” she cries, and comes undone beneath him once again. But this time, she gets to watch him fall over the edge with her, his eyes so incredibly dark as he moans his release. He’s the only man she’s ever let come inside of her, and it feels very right that it’s Mal — she doesn’t want anyone else filling her like this, marking her in a sense as his spend drips down her thighs.

They stay like that for a while, foreheads pressed together, sweaty and sticky, but blissfully so. 

“So, is the sex still good on this side of the apartment?”

In answer, he dips his head and bites down on one of her tits.

“Shit, Malyen!”

“Ridiculous questions get ridiculous responses,” he teases, then wraps his arms around her, tucking his face into the crook of her shoulder. “You’re all I’ve wanted for two years, Alina, and this still beat my expectations.”

Smiling, she rests her chin against the top of his head. “Good. I would hate to have to start fucking in Zoya’s bed just because you like the airflow better there.”

“Smart ass,” Mal mutters, but he’s smiling. Then he says, "You know, this may not be my first time fucking in this apartment, but I’m still checking off a first tonight — of many, I hope.”

Alina rolls her eyes. “Yes, I’m aware this is your first time fucking me in this apartment, dumb ass.”

"That’s not what I meant, rude ass.”

She frowns. “Then what did you mean?”

He squeezes her hip. “It’s my first time spending the night.”

Her heart does a little jump in her chest, and she doesn’t even have it in her to tease that she hasn’t actually asked him to stay yet. But stay he does, though he gets her off a few more times before they pass out for the night — definitely beating her vibrator. One time it’s with his fingers, so incredibly long that she knows all her fantasies will involve the slender digits now. Another is after Alina murmurs about how filthy she is and that she really ought to take a shower. 

Mal waits long enough to join her that she starts to worry he hadn’t understood her intent. But then she hears his footsteps, and the shower curtain opens. There’s no bottle throwing this time, though she can’t say the same for the screaming. He steps into the shower, kisses her slowly, sensually, then pushes her back until she shivers from the feeling of cold tile against her bare skin.

“I meant to ask, you do know you have mirrors in here, right?” Mal murmurs huskily into her ear. She’s too disoriented with want to understand until he says, “I saw you staring at my ass last time.”

Then he slams into her, and Alina no longer has to imagine how it feels to be fucked against the shower wall.

[time-eclipse]

Gymnopedie No.1 (Donna Beneviento X reader)

You had known Donna Beneviento since you were both very young children. You never separated from her side. You loved her with all your heart and you promised your insecure friend that you would never leave her.

You had been there for her through out the death of her family. It was a dark time filled with nothing but heartbreak and sadness. Then Mother Miranda showed and she, for whatever reason, didn't approve of you seeing Donna. Donna begged Mother Miranda to let you stay once the feathered woman had adopted the young Beneviento. And after years of constant begging, Mother Miranda couldn't keep you apart. So, she gave in. You were extremely grateful that Mother Miranda had accepted. If you went home they would call you awful names because of your disability.

How you got the disability? You were walking in the village but you were attacked by one of the lycans before you could react. It managed to scratch your face before it was shot by Lucy, one of the members of the village. Unfortunately, the event left you blind. Lucy helped you back to the Beneviento Manor.

Donna was extremely stressed when she saw you and Lucy at her door, you bleeding out in front of her. Her shaking hands trembled as she took you from Lucy and thanked her quietly. Donna stayed with you that night. Holding you close. Her last human friend was nearly killed... And she couldn't do anything. You repeatedly that dreadful night. All the years you were there for her and she could finally be there for you.

Now here you are. Sitting in a carriage with your friend, on the way to the Dimitrescu castle. You placed your hand on top of Donna's when you felt were it was. She squeezed it. "Are we there yet!?" Angie, Donna's doll, complained. Donna sighed. "Donna!!" Angie huffed. "Fine I'm gonna sit on Blake's knee!" She hissed and you felt movement beside you before a small amount of weight on your knee making you chuckle fondly.

Donna squeezed your hand tighter. "What's wrong, Donna?" You asked with worry in your voice.

Donna pulled her hand away making you frown. "Nothing is wrong... I'm sorry. Just promise me something?" she question softly as always. Her voice was a gentle piano to you. It soothed you in every way.

You took noticed that Angie had stilled and was extremely quiet. It caught you off guard and put you on edge. "Yes?" you said, preparing yourself for what the veiled woman would say.

"Blake, promise me... That you won't leave me." She said and retook your hand tightly. Almost possessively. You took in a breath. This sounded like more of a beg than a request. You smiled putting your doubts in a jar.

You put your hand over your heart and swore to her. You would never leave Donna. No matter what life threw at you.

The carriage stopped when you arrived. You notice that Donna began to sweat slightly. The slight shake in her hand was enough to tell you that she was nervous. "We can wait a minute if you like?" you offered. Donna looped her arm in yours.

"No.. Its alright. We just need to go and eat then hopefully leave after I take Lady Dimitrescu's measurements." she replied and held you closer. Heat rose to your cheeks. You mentally scowled yourself. Donna didn't like you back... You were just friends and how it hurt.

You could hear... Nothing. Everything was deadly silent. Too silent. It made you pull Donna and Angie towards you. You heard Donna take in a shallow breath when your hand touched her hips. Your blush grew in embarrassment and you changed your hand position.

You could smell blood lingering in the air. Donna had informed you about all the Lords. Dimitrescu was the one family name that you were the most scared of.

Donna took the lead and lead you to the doors of the castle. "Donna!" a voice rang making you jump. "You came and you brought a guest!" you noticed Donna tighten her grip on you. Any tighter and you would have burst.

Angie wiggled away from your grip and you heard her patter away. "This is Lady Blake! She's Donna's best friend!! But don't you dare forget I'm better than her, tall one!" Angie shouted like an angry squirrel.

"My name is Lady Dimitrescu, doll!" the voice, Lady Dimitrescu, hissed in a bitter tone. Angie laughed and walked back over to you. Donna had told you about Lady Dimitrescu and her short temper but her incredibly tall height. You were also told that the lady Dimitrescu and Heisenberg didn't get on well... Didn't get on at all. "If you'd like to follow me, Donna, we'll have dinner first then you can take my measurements." she said and led the three of you to... Somewhere else.

Right away, you could smell all kinds of food. You hears some buzzing in the background. Donna took you to a chair and sat beside you. Immediately, you very subtlety began to feel around to get used to your new surroundings.

The buzzing got louder. Until you felt a hand on your shoulder. "Mother! You didn't tell us that Donna had a human pet!" A voice chuckled in your ear. You shivered a little. "she is so pretty mother!" the same voice laughed in kind. "What's your name, little one? Mine is Bela!" she said and touched you shoulder.

You smiled slightly. "My name is Blake" you replied. Then the two of you jumped into a pleasent conversation. You had to explain to her about your disability. The young dimitrescu was surprising very supportive and kind to you. Dinner was a blast! You and Bela got along really well. Perhaps a little too well...

Something wasn't right. You felt someone glaring at you. Like sharp daggers were been thrown at you. The only problem was that you couldn't tell who. "I think I should take your measurements now, Alcina!" Donna suddenly snapped. It made you jump. You had never heard Donna so angry before. It scared you. It was so out of character for her. Lady Dimitrescu hummed and you heard the clicking of heels walk far into the distance. Did you do something wrong?

°°°

When you returned to the Manor, no one said a word. Not even Angie. It put you on edge. You hated it. You couldn't sleep that night. Donna or Angie didn't even say goodnight to you! That hurt like a tone of bricks.

The next day you walked around the Manor with frightened eyes. "D-donna? Angie?" you stuttered. You had been calling them all morning. Why didn't they come to you? Donna would normally be by your side in less than a minute.

For the next few weeks you felt lonely. Like there was a heavy cloud hanging over your head. You heard shuffling in the background. You had assumed that it was just Donna's dolls but you heard footsteps. Real human footsteps. "Donna!?" You called out desperately. The footsteps stopped. It became agonising so that she was avoiding you. You burst into tears. You didn't know what you did wrong! "Donna? Please?" you begged between a torn sob. There was no reply but you did feel a little wooden hand against your arm. "Angie?" you said hopefully.

"Are you okay, Blakey?" Angie asked. You could actually hear the concern in her voice. It surprised you a little. You were expecting something sarcastic like 'Why such the sour face, B?' you were glad that the doll was actually concerned about your wellbeing.

You didn't answer. You couldn't. All you could think about was Donna. Did she hate you? No... Donna doesn't hate anyone... But then why the silent treatment? It was going to drive to you mad. She had never been angry with you. With a deep cry, you stood and ran back to your room. Angie shouted after you but to fail.

Once in your room, you began sobbing deeply into your pillow. You decided that you wanted to listen to some music. You felt around for your favourite CD and began to blast some depressing songs. Some were gentle and reminded you of Donna. It made you sob louder and louder until....

There was creak. You assumed it was the door. "Blake?" you immediately recognised the gentle voice. Donna! You flung up and called her name in hope. You felt weight beside you. Delicate hands wrapped around your form. "I-" you cut her off with a sob.

"What did I do, Donna?" you asked through your tears. "Why are you mad at me? Please tell me so I can fix it!" you begged, your voice breaking in several places. You noticed Donna tense. You hugged her close. Not wanting to let go of your friend. Wow... You never noticed how much the word 'friend' stung before.

Donna slowly relaxed and touched your cheek. "I wasn't mad..." She mumbled, pulling you closer. "I was scared." she admitted. Your brows furrowed and you were about to say something when she caught you off. "I didn't want you to leave me..." a sniffle came from Donna. In that moment, you had forgotten about all your saddeness. Donna mattered to you. You didn't want her to be sad You felt then reached for her veil. She pulled away. You frowned. She grabbed your hand and held it close to her heart. "I can't let you leave... You're all I have left. When I saw you and Bela..." a realisation hit you. You felt so stupid.

"Donna, I couldn't leave you even if I wanted to... You mean the world to me!" You promised and removed her veil before she had time to react. "Lady Donna Beneviento, I-" you stopped and choked on your words. You were scared to tell her. However, when she placed her hand on your cheek, you knew you had to tell her. "Donna... I love you..." you squeezed your eyes. "You are my world..." you finished and let the tears fall.

You expected something harsh in return. More silent treatments. However, you felt Donna weave her fingers through your hair. You leaned into her gentle embrace. You felt safe. Suddenly, you were pulled forward and your lips crashed onto hers. They were soft and tasted like cherry. She let you lead the kiss. Neither of you had ever done this with anyone before. You could feel her smile against your lips. "I love you too, My doll." she muttered shyly once you had both pulled away.

"ABOUT TIME!" Angie squealed happily while, you assumed, clapping her tiny wooden hands. You jumped slightly before laughing it off. Donna sighed deeply and pulled you closer to her. You smiled and cuddled closer. "LET ME IN!!!!" Angie hissed and snuggled in between the both of you. This was your little family and no harm would come to it for as long as you remained.

++++

Any requests? Let me know.

[mysweetgeo]

Do You Want To Know a Secret ? (Part 4)

Summary: Reader and George have been best friends since they were kids, but when The Beatles got big, they were forced apart. What happens when George returns for a couple weeks wanting their friendship to return to normal?

You didn’t hear from George until the next day, when the call came through just after noon you’d all but jumped to answer it the second it rang.

You cleared your throat before answering, “Hello, (Y/N) speaking.”

“Well hello my love, how is today treatin’ you?” His accent thick and full.

You smiled, “Fair, but much better now,” you answered honestly.

You could hear his smile in his voice as he answered, “Well that’s wonderful to hear, fancy a trip to the pub tonight? John invited me and I’d like it if you’d accompany me.”

“Hm, seeing as I don’t have to work tomorrow that sounds quite lovely,” you replied, twirling the phone cord around your finger. “What time should I meet you there?”

George scoffed, “As if I’d make you drive yourself to the pub,” he muttered. “I’ll pick you up at eight, does that fit into your busy schedule?” He asked, mocking the words you’d said to him just the other day.

You rolled your eyes, “Fine. But next time we go out I’m driving—and paying!”

He laughed, “Fine, fine! It’s a deal, as long as I get to see you again,” he said sweetly, a smile forming on your lips.

It was quiet for a few moments before you spoke again, “I’ll see you at eight then?”

“Eight o’clock, sharp,” he confirmed.

“It’s a date then,” you said, smiling to yourself.

“It’s a date,” he repeated before you hung up.

+

When George knocked on your door at eight o’clock (sharp) you’d been waiting his arrival, ready to open the door the moment he knocked.

He grinned when he saw you, giving your simple outfit a look over.

You wore a pair of high waisted denim bell bottoms with a pair of chunky orange heels. he laughed when he saw your shirt, a Beatles tee you’d found at a local shop when you’d been out and about a few weeks ago.

“Where on Earth did you find that?” George asks, leaning in close to observe your shirt.

“Found it at one of the shops in town, d’ya like it?” You ask with a proud grin.

“I look like rubbish,” he mumbles, running his fingers over his own face on the fabric.

“You do not, George,” you say, swatting his hand away from your top. “You ready to go?” You ask.

He nods and holds the door open for you and the two of you walk to his car.

You ride to the pub in a comfortable silence, completely content just being in each other’s presence.

When you arrive at the pub, George opens your door for you and offers you his arm, which you gladly accept.

You walk into the pub, immediately finding John in a corner booth, with an arm around Cynthia who is sitting beside him.

When John sees you, his face breaks into a massive grin, “George! You brought your girl!”

You blush and squeeze George’s arm a bit, looking at the other couple, “Nice to see you again, John,” you mumble, slightly embarrassed.

Cynthia stands to pull you into a hug, which you gladly accept. You’d missed her almost as much as you’d missed George.

You and George sit across from John and Cynthia, George’s arm slung around your shoulders as John tells you about the crazy things they’d done while on tour.

By the end of the story you’d been clutching your stomach, doubled over in laughter while George sat, his face red with embarrassment.

You were now a few pints in, feeling warm and light—like you were floating.

“Why didn’t you tell me about that Georgie?” You whined, gripping his thigh so that he would look you in the eye.

He shrugged, “Didn’t think you’d wanna hear about all the silly things I’d done,” he replied.

Your jaw dropped, “Well of course I do! I can’t keep pickin’ on ya if its the same four stories from when we were kids!” You said loudly.

“John!” You yelled, reaching over to grab his arm, “You have to tell me all the silly things he’s done!” you slurred.

John laughed, completely knackered, “When we were in Hamburg, George had a girl in the hotel room—while we were all in there!” John said loudly, his head rolling back with a snort.

You felt your heart drop, and suddenly you weren’t in a laughing mood anymore. You scooted yourself away from him, a small movement that John didn’t notice, but Cynthia and George did.

You glanced at George out of the corner of your eye after you’d moved to see him staring back at you, almost like he was apologizing.

You didn’t know why you felt so upset, you couldn’t possibly be upset with George for sleeping with someone when you’d done the same with many guys. After all it’d been nearly two years, you couldn’t expect him to wait for you when he didn’t even know how you felt about him—you didn’t even know how you felt about him.

John was still laughing, not noticing the mood change, when he slapped the table, snapping you and George out of your trance.

“I need another pint!” He slurred, pounding the table.

You nodded agreeing with him, “Me too,” you mumbled, just loud enough so that George could hear you.

+

Three more pints down and you’d completely forgotten what you were so upset over. You were practically attached to George, clinging affectionately to his arm.

You were sipping your next pint, your arm looped in George’s as he watched you.

“(Y/N) how’d you meet George again?” Cynthia asked, yelling over the other voices in the pub.

“Oh! I love this story!” You squealed, “We met when we were just itty bitty little kids,” you said fondly with a smile.

George laughed at your expression as you rested your head on his shoulder, smiling proudly.

“I was five and George was six!” You exclaimed, “He tried to kiss me on the playground and I pushed him in the dirt!”

“Hey! That’s not what happened!” George interrupted after taking a large gulp of his pint.

You turned to him, a grin spread across your face, “Really? Then how do you think it happened?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

George’s eyes bore into your, like dark brown pools. “I wanted to hold your hand, is that such a crime! ‘Was just a boy who fancied a girl,” he said matter-of-factly.

“You fancied me?” You asked, teasing him and poking his nose.

“What? No—I just meant—I—“ He stumbled over his words.

You giggled, “Sounds like you fancied me, Geo!” you teased, nudging his side with your arm.

He rolled his eyes and pushed your arms away from him, “Stop that!” he yelped.

You let out a hearty laugh, “Oh c’mon, George! ‘m only teasin’!”

“Mhm, sure you are,” he mumbled, finishing the rest of his beer.

You grinned, finishing yours as well, feeling warm and fuzzy. “I wanna do shots!” you exclaimed.

John gasped, “Shots!” he yelled, the two of you unable to sit still at the thought.

John flagged the waitress down, getting her to bring your table a whole mess of shots.

You turned to George, a crooked smile on your face, “You gonna do shots too, Georgie?” you asked, tugging at his arm to try and get him to agree.

He rolled his eyes, a smile forming on his face, “I suppose I can do a few,” he answers, which made you squeal in excitement.

John, George, and yourself split the shots amongst the three of you—Cynthia decided against them (probably for the best).

The shots felt endless, and soon you were slurring your words and clinging to George’s arm just to keep the room from spinning.

George was feeling just about the same way, the two of you laughing at something John had said—which neither of you could remember.

Eventually Cynthia dragged a heavily intoxicated John out of the bar, bidding a goodnight to you and George.

George paid your tab, wrapping an arm tight around your waist as the two if you walked out.

The waitress had hailed a cab for you—which you were thankful for because you couldn’t think straight.

You sat practically on top of one another in the back of the cab, staring into each others eyes, trying (and failing) to contain flirtatious smiles.

When the cabbie had dropped you off at your house. you and George climbed out of the cab after paying, immediately going up to your room.

You immediately went to put some music on, putting the Please Please Me vinyl on the turntable, skipping to your favourite song, secretly hoping George would sing it to you.

George grinned when you both heard the familiar chords begin.

You’ll never know how much I really love you

You’ll never know how much I really care

He pulled you close to him, leaving barely enough room to breathe, and began to sway you back and forth.

“Listen,” he sang softly in your ear, “Do you want to know a secret?”

“Do you promise not to tell?” You nodded enthusiastically, your body jittering with excitement.

“Oh, closer,” you felt yourself pressing yourself closer to him, aching for him to tell you.

“Let me whisper in your ear,” he murmured breathlessly in your ear, “say the words you long to hear.”

“I’m in love with you,” he whispered softly, kissing your neck.

You sighed in content, allowing him to attack your neck and jaw with kisses.

“Oh, George,” you murmured.

George’s lips moved to your cheek, progressively moving towards your mouth.

You whined in protest when he pulled away, “Can I kiss you?” he murmured.

All you could do was nod, your body aching for his touch, your lips yearning for reciprocation.

You looked into each other’s eyes before George pressed his lips against yours, and the world stopped.

Your body lighting on fire, feeling the butterflies swarm in your stomach as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

The two of you fell on your bed, George straddling you, kissing you with a patience that did not exist.

You moaned into his mouth, enjoying every second of the kiss, not knowing when it would end.

George brought his hand up to caress your face lovingly, as your tongues danced in each others mouths.

He kissed you with a hunger you’d never experienced, like he thought you’d vanish at any moment.

The kiss felt like you’d been making up for a lifetime of repressed feelings and longing stares.

Too soon you both ran out of air, panting as you pulled away, looking at each other with pure love.

His lips were a deep red colour, swollen from the kiss. you could only imagine yours were in a similar state.

You ran your hands through his hair as you caught your breath, your thumbs caressing his cheeks, running along his sharp jaw bone.

He smiled sleepily, the movements of your hands relaxing him.

His tired eyes met yours, “I love you,” he said in the happiest voice.

Your heart swelled as you held his face in your hands, “I love you, George.”

He dipped his head to give you a quick kiss before his body weight dropped on top of you.

You groaned, “George,” you tried to push him off of you but there was no way to move him, he was already snoring softly into your neck.

You continued to run your hands through his hair, admiring him and soaking in every detail of the moment that you likely wouldn’t remember.

Deep down you knew that was for the best, you’d just gotten George back and you didn’t want to lose him again—especially when these feelings were involved.

His arms formed a tight cocoon around you and he sighed into your neck, completely content.

You smiled sleepily at his state, leaving your hands in his hair as you closed your eyes, letting yourself drift off to sleep.

[hiddennerdworld]

Homesick (pt 4) with Hanta Sero

Note: This is a long one 😅 sorry I just love him. This is probably the last one of the ‘series’. I hope to do some more fluffy stuff like it tho. Also, I absolutely adore the idea of Latin Sero but didn’t know how to write it in, so we’re just gonna pretend lmao. And sorry for the abrupt ending. Still hope you enjoy it :) (I added a little reference to one of my favorite songs too ;) )

————————��——————————————

The best place to just sit in think is outside staring at the stars. That happened to be exactly where you were. On the roof of the dorms just looking at the stars while you’re laying on the ground. It was a beautiful fall night with a little breeze and the smell of autumn in the air. The sky was crystal clear and you could see tons of stars twinkling back to you. Most may find this a relaxing situation to be in, but you were definitely not relaxed. You had this little pit in your stomach ever since you moved into the dorms and couldn’t quite describe what it was. Being outside was better than just lying in bed, at least here there’s a beautiful view, but its presence was still lingering. While fighting with yourself on whether you should try to think it through or try to ignore the feeling, you heard the roof door opened. You quickly sit up and look over to see Sero.

“Oh, hey Y/N!” He said while rubbing the back of his neck not sure what to say at first. But after looking around for a bit, he collected himself and stepped forward. “Sorry I wasn’t expecting to see anyone up here. I definitely wasn’t expecting to see such a beautiful babe such as yourself.” He said jokingly and started moving his eyebrows.

You couldn’t help but blush and giggle at his goofy nature. You always did. Whenever you would be hanging out with your close friend Mina and her friends, you laughed at Sero’s jokes everytime. Even if they were bad, there’s just something about the smiley boy.

“Yea? Well, what were expecting then, pretty boy?” You also found it easy to banter with Sero. It could be awkward at times but it never mattered.

“Just an empty roof and a starry sky, but it looks like tonight I get an extra treat. Can I sit with you?” You nodded and then he took a seat next to you. “What’re you doing up? I thought everyone turned in for the night.”

“Ah, you may have thought that, but you see I’m not like everyone else. My brain doesn’t allow me to sleep. At least recently.” You said while pointing at your head.

“Can I ask why’s that?” He asked softly.

You shrug. “I honestly don’t know. I’ve just had weird vibes ever since we moved in.”

Sero lit up and said “Dude, I totally know what you mean!” He then calmed down and continued, “Sorry, I just thought I was the only one. It’s just so different ya know?” He asked lying down to look at the stars and you did the same.

“Different from living at home? Yea I know exactly what you’re talking about. I thought it would be a lot more normal.”

“I didn’t know what to think really. I was excited about getting to see my friends everyday. Believe me I still am, but a part of me is missing. I actually came up here to swing around. Maybe get rid of this empty feeling.”

You turn towards him “Really?”

He looks back at you and nods. “Yep, but this is much more relaxing don’t ya think?” He said as he looked back up at the beautiful night sky. You hummed in agreement. The both of you just sat in silence for a bit until Sero broke it with telling you about his family. He told you about how he would watch soccer and baseball with his dad and telenovelas with his mom. You told him about how you and your siblings would play Mario Kart.

You guys kept going for who knows how long. Laying on the cold, hard concrete ground, but didn’t pay any mind to it. You were both to busy laughing and being deeply ingrained in conversation. Time had been frozen and the weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Unfortunately, it didn’t stay like that for long. As the night went on, it the temperature dropped a lot. You had your arms wrapped around you, but didn’t really notice. However, Sero did notice and didn’t like the idea of you being cold. He sat up and asked “Hey, why don’t we go back to my dorm and we can get more comfortable?”

You quirked your eyebrow at him.

He just laughed and replied, “Not like that, but it’s funny to see that’s where your mind went. I just meant we can continue to chill in a place where it is not so chill so maybe you can warm up. I’ll take the hammock and you can lay down on my bed if you want.” You agreed and went to his room.

———————————————————————

It was a challenge to stay quiet on the way there. You didn’t want to wake your friends at such a late hour BUT you and Sero found everything 100 times funnier when you had to remain quiet. The walk consisted of you two giving each other looks, snickering, and then shushing each other. It just looped until you eventually got to his dorm. The fun didn’t stop there though. Once you got to his dorm, you tried multiple times to get into his hammock and fell out each time causing the two of you to cry laughing. Was it sleep deprivation or just the way you two made each other? Both, the answer is both.

Soon though you both calmed down. You got comfortable in his bed, already wearing your PJs from earlier. And Sero was swaying in the hammock while his music played quietly in the background. You guys continued to talk and talk. At times you got deep and others you would talk about complete nonsense. However, you both started to slowly drift off at around 4 in the morning, not even processing what the other was saying. So you decided to call it a night.

“I can’t even keep my eyes open anymore. I should probably go back to my dorm. Goodnight, Sero.” You said in a hushed tone while slowly getting out of bed.

“No, you don’t gotta go. Just stay in the bed. It’s late and I don’t wanna make you walk allllll the way back to your place.” He totally sounded out of it. There was a sleepiness in his voice.

“I think I can manage the walk down the hallway and then to my bed. I don’t wanna make you sleep in the hammock.” You said but you weren’t even sitting up yet. Just propping yourself up on your elbow as you continued to lay in bed.

“Pfff don’t worry about it,” Sero said using his hand to swat away your concern. “I have slept in this baby more times than I can count. I probably can’t even get out of it at this point anyway. Just stay here and we can make it a fun sleepover night.”

You went back to getting comfortable in his bed. “Well if you put it like that. For real though, if you get uncomfortable let me know. There’s plenty of room here if you’re okay sharing.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Sweets. Sleep well, Y/N”

———————————————————————

The next morning you woke up in a strange place. It took you a few seconds to remember you had fallen asleep in Sero’s room when you inhaled the scent of the incense he had in his room. It was weird not being in your room. It was even weirder was that you felt a weight on your side. You turn to look over and see Sero holding onto you. You never thought he would actually take you up on your offer. Seeing him there made your heart warm and a pink blush rushed to your cheeks.

As you were about to go back to the position you were in Sero stirred awake and moved back a little, not knowing that he decided to get so close in his sleep. It leaves you with a little disappointment, but you’re still happy just being around him. “Good morning, hun.” He said in the middle of stretching and yawning. “How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty great thanks to you. I definitely wouldn’t have gotten much sleep if you weren’t so sweet and let me talk your ears off.”

A little smile grew on his face. “Hey, I can’t take all the credit. You did the same for me. If you weren’t here I’d just be talking to a wall and they’re no fun.”

His smirk grew head hearing you giggle at his jokes. “Yea last night was pretty fun, wasn’t it?”

“Yea, it was,” Sero said and then sighed while flipping over to look at the ceiling. He rested his head on his hand and had his other arm lying across his stomach. He seemed tense. On the outside, he looked totally relaxed still because that’s just how he is, but you can tell something is off.

“You alright?” You asked leaning closer to see his face.

He sat there for a sec thinking. “Yea, yea it’s just... last night got me thinking.” He paused again seemingly trying to find what he wanted to say. You just looked at him with kind eyes ready to hear him out. “Y/N, I really like you.” He turned to you then scoffed, “Well I mean I haven’t really been hiding it from you, but I’ve never said it straight up either. To be honest, I wasn’t sure about it. I just thought it was a little crush and I didn’t wanna scare you off because we were just becoming friends and just moved into the dorms.” He placed his hand on yours, making you blush, and then continued. “But last night was the happiest I’ve been in a long time. I’m not depressed all the time or anything, it’s just different with you. I didn’t want it to end, which is why I asked you to stay. I’m sorry if you don’t feel the same. I don’t wanna weird you out, but I think you do. Things between us are just so natural and I’ve never felt awkward with you. You must feel it too, right?” He finished his speech staring at you with pleading eyes.

“Sero, I-“

“Oh no!” He flipped over and covered his face “I knew it! I’m so s-“

You just grabbed his face and turned it towards you. “Will you let me finish, you dork? Of course, I feel it too. It’s weird but you’re the closest friend I’ve had since we got to UA, hell maybe the closest friend I’ve had in a long time, even though we haven’t been talking for long. You make me really happy, so yeah I like you too, Sero.”

“Really?!” You nodded in response and his shocked face turned into the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on him, which is saying a lot. He grabbed you and you let out a little yelp. He pulled you on top of him and gave you a big hug. “You have no idea how happy I am.” He said as he rested his head on yours.

“I think I do. I can see it all over your face.” You said as you looked up and squished his cheeks.

Sero grabbed your hands of his face and intertwined his fingers with yours. “Yea but I still don’t think you reeeeally know. Could I show you?” He asked as he slowly brought his hand to cup your cheek, running his thumb across your bottom lip.

You managed to whisper a “yes please” and were then met with his lips on yours. The kiss was gentle and sweet. It took a second but you guys both melted into the kiss, cherishing the moment together. It only lasted a few seconds but it left you with more butterflies in your stomach then you’ve ever felt before. You both pulled away and looked each other in the eyes leading you to giggle and hide your face in his chest. His arms returned to your waist and gave you a small kiss on the top of your head. “So I guess you know now.”

———————————————————————

BONUS: You were suddenly awoken by running muffled footsteps and a banging on the door. Mina swings Sero’s door open and wakes you guys up from your nap.

“Hey, Sero have you seen Y/N? It’s like noon and I can’t find-“ her eyes bounce between you and him snuggling in bed.

“Oh.” She giggles and winces. “My bad! I didn’t know there was something goin on. I’ll leave you too it.” She said as she back up slowly and then dashes down the hall “GUYS YOU’RE NOT GONNA BELIEVE THIS!!!” You hear her voice and footsteps fade as she rushes to tell everyone.

Sero scoffed and flung his tape to close the door. Then he returned to cuddling you. You guys had some sleeping to catch up on.

[farfromsugafanfic]

Not So Silent Night

Genre: Quarantine Romance, slight Enemies To Lovers, Neighbors AU, Fluff, slight Angst

Pairing: Namjoon/ Reader

Warnings: none

Synopsis: Namjoon hadn’t intended to spend much time in his tiny apartment. And then a pandemic broke out. Now he’s stuck dealing with his noisy neighbor, you.

✦✧✦✧

Namjoon thought he was in the clear that Wednesday night. He'd heard the opening and closing of your front door, the clink of your keys in the lock, and the rustle of the groceries in your arms. He knew it was your Friday, which meant you'd usually turn on music while you cleaned your tiny apartment, or a play a movie on full blast while you devoured an entire pizza yourself.

It was nearly 9 pm and he hadn't heard a peep from you, not even the true crime podcast you sometimes put on. Namjoon, unlike you, had worked from home for months now. Even though most of his time at work was spent in his private studio, he had nearly an identical set up in his apartment.

He was still working, albeit, not on the songs he produced for other artists, but on his own. He'd just started editing the melody when heard the familiar bass chords of "What Makes You Beautiful". It was your favorite song to torture him with. Namjoon had nothing against the British boyband you seemed to love so much, that was until you started them playing them loudly at odd hours.

Namjoon sighed, pausing his work and rubbing his temples. He really needed to save up for a good pair of noise canceling headphones, although he wouldn't find it surprising if you somehow managed to invade his eardrums right away.

He tried to continue working, turning his headphones all the way up. Yet, all he could focus on was the way he heard the familiar bass line restart when the song ended.

Namjoon groaned and threw his headphones onto his desk. He'd only moved into this tiny apartment because the rent was cheap and he hadn't intended to spend much time in it. Then, a pandemic hit and suddenly, Namjoon was confined to four menacing white walls with the only company being his noisy neighbor, you.

He waited a half hour before he walked down the stairs to your apartment. Even though the city was under quarantine, the apartment building was snug and it was nearly impossible not to come into contact with each other. Securing his mask over his ear, he knocked on your door.

"Yes?" you asked, answering the door as if you'd been expecting him. You, too, had just finished looping the mask around your ear. It was a bright polka dot pattern that distracted Namjoon long enough that he managed to speak before noticing that your oversized T-shirt made it look like you weren't wearing shorts.

"Can you please keep it down, Y/N? It's the middle of the week for me and I have a Zoom call at 8 am tomorrow."

"That sounds like your problem," you said, leaving your door open as you tied the top of the trash bag you'd been getting ready to take out when Namjoon knocked.

A glint of annoyance passed over Namjoon's eyes and even from under your mask he could make out your familiar smirk from the way your eyebrows rose.

"Do you even own headphones?" he asked, crossing his arms. He didn't notice the way your eyes swept over his biceps and chest with his movement.

"They hurt my ears," you said, shrugging. Grabbing the trash bag by the tied top and heading back for your front door. "Now, be a doll and take this out for me? My legs hurt from work."

Namjoon looked at you with his eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. He didn't say anything as you shoved the bag into his hands.

"What? Why are looking at me like that?" you paused, dialing down your attitude for a moment. "Listen, if you do this, I'll turn it off so you can get your beauty sleep."

He watched as you reached up and pat his shoulder. Your nail polish was chipping and the gleam from your gold promise ring dulled. His eyes traced as your hand left the fabric of his T-shirt and came to the doorknob of your front door.

"Goodnight Namjoon," you said, shutting the door.

Namjoon stood in the hallway, his lips parted and a small breath. He scoffed as the familiar bassline blasted from your apartment.

✦✧✦✧

You'd had a long day. Work was keeping you at least an hour over every day and you felt your feet ache as slipped off your shoes. Even though you just wanted to fall into bed, you changed and washed your hands first, doing your best to feel clean before your skin hit the sheets. As a Pharmacy Technician, you were essential, and even if most of your job was counting pills and performing customer service, right now it was harder than ever.

With only ten hours until you had to be at work, you ordered food and eyed the laundry that was beginning to spill over the edge of the hamper like waves over a jetty. You sighed, taking out your phone and putting on music. You gathered up your clothes and laundry soap. Pocketing your keys and a handful of quarters dug out of the bottom of your purse, you made your way to the basement laundry room.

You let the music play. While you weren't particularly trying to get your tall neighbor's attention, or get on his nerves, like you usually were, you secretly hoped you'd get to catch a glimpse of his signature white T-shirt against his bronzed skin.

Loading your clothes into the shared washer, your phone began to ring and your boyfriend's face flashed across the screen. He was smiling widely in the picture, his hair swept back by the coastal breeze. At one point, it had been your favorite photo of him. Now, it just felt like a sweet apple that turned out to be poison.

You ignored the call and poured the detergent into the machine. Inserting the quarters, you heard footsteps coming down the stairs. You'd heard his feet on the stairs enough, that you recognized the soft one, two pattern as he made his way downstairs.

"I think the whole complex knows you're a fan of One Direction now," Namjoon said, coming into view. His hands were empty, having obviously come down purely because of your disruption.

"So be it," you said, starting the machine and glancing down as the music stopped and your phone rang again. You frowned as you rejected the call.

Namjoon noticed, his brow furrowing as his eyes glanced down at the phone in your hand. "You should've answered. At least you'd be less of a bother."

The two calls and the exhaustion weighed you down and felt yourself drifting below the surface. "I'm really not in the mood right now, Namjoon. Maybe tomorrow."

His sarcastic smile faltered. "If you don't want me to bother you, then don't play your music so loud." He crossed his arms over his chest, his muscles becoming more prominent as the fabric of his T-shirt stretched to accommodate the new position. You had no idea how he stayed so toned with the apartment gym shut down and such a small apartment.

"Maybe you should invest in earplugs."

"Maybe you should invest in headphones."

You scoffed and headed back upstairs, not feeling the banter. Your neck and shoulders were tense and you just wanted to finish your laundry and pass out for the night.

✦✧✦✧

Namjoon didn't think much of your sour mood. It was obvious that it extended beyond him since you rejected the phone call. He stood in the laundry room for a few moments and watched your laundry spin around in the washer.

He remembered back to the week before when you forced him to take out your garbage. A thought crossed his mind and he wondered if a good prank would lift your spirits.

With most coin operated washers, the doors locked right after the money is inserted and the washer starts. The ones at your apartment complex, however, had a loophole. Hitting the coin return button a few times, the quarters you'd entered fell into the coin return and the machine slowed to a stop.

Waiting a few moments to make sure you weren't coming back, he opened the door and took your wet clothes out of the dryer. He pocketed the coins, reminding himself to use them for your clothes later. Setting them on top of the washer, he rushed up to his apartment and grabbed his own laundry, starting it.

✦✧✦✧

The timer went off a half hour later. You were halfway through eating dinner but paused to go switch loads. You knew between your boyfriend' incessant calls and the hour long drying cycle, you were not going to get to sleep any time soon.

Shuffling down to the laundry room, you didn't even bother to throw on music this time. The heaviness in your eyes wouldn't be cured with Harry's sweet voice as usual.

Opening the door to the washer, your clothes were not there. A stroke of panic ran down your spine as your eyes darted across the row of washers, wondering if you had gone to the wrong one. All the other doors were open. You felt a stirring in your stomach as your mind raced with what to do.

"Lose something?"

You turned to see Namjoon coming down the stairs, carrying a laundry basket full of your wet clothes. Your heart beat out of your chest, your vision went black as your mind processed the sight.

"What the fuck, Namjoon?" you asked, yanking the basket from him. Tears came to your eyes as you looked down at the sopping wet clothes.

Namjoon's eyes widened at his words, having expected a snarky quip from you, he released his grip on the basket easily. Fishing for the quarters in his pocket, he held them out to you.

"God, I'm gonna get absolutely no sleep tonight," you said, shoving your half washed clothes back into the washer.

"Y/N?" he asked, his voice soft. "What's wrong?"

Once you'd restarted the washer, placing your body physically in front of it to block Namjoon from tampering with it once again, you eyed him.

"I'm only gonna get a few hours of sleep," you said, your voice surprisingly level. "My work clothes are in there." You leaned back against the washer, sighing as you looked down at the time on your phone.

"I-I'm--"

"Save it, Namjoon," you said. "Listen, I know we have this sort of relationship where we mess with each other. But, I'm really not in the mood for it tonight."

Namjoon tried to move towards you, but stopped himself, unsure of exactly what he was going to do or how he could help. He'd never seen you like this before. Dark circles around your eyes, your hair stringy and tousled from running your hands through it, and your posture so tense. Even though the lower half of your face was covered with a bright green mask, he could still make out your frown behind the fabric.

"Just le--" You were cut off by your phone's vibration.

Despite Namjoon having caused your distress, whoever kept calling you made your brow furrow and eyes water in a way that left Namjoon wanting to answer the phone and find out what they had done to you.

"Is everything okay?" he asked. "Who keeps calling you?"

Glancing down at the washer it had now moved onto the second cycle, you ignored. Meeting Namjoon's eyes, it hurt your chest to see the concern in them. After seeing you like this, after getting annoyed with him, he still worried about you.

"Just leave me alone, Namjoon."

✦✧✦✧

It was midnight on Wednesday night when the sound of yelling overtook the melody in his headphones. At first, he didn't think much of it. Many couples lived in the complex, and an occasional fight wasn't uncommon. Then, he heard your voice.

✦✧✦✧

"Jae-ho, what are you doing here? I told you you couldn't come."

"I just want to see you, baby." There was a softness in his voice, but it didn't reach his eyes. You'd been dodging his calls and texts for the past few days, hoping he would get the hint.

"Not until your test comes back negative," you said. "Plus, we really shouldn't be seeing each other that much. Especially since I'm still working."

Your boyfriend let out a long sigh and moved to walk inside. You blocked him, shutting the door slightly and wedging yourself in the gap. This only made him more frustrated, his hands reaching out to touch you.

You let him, allowing his hand to brush your own. You knew it was unlikely your boyfriend would get a positive result, his exposure limited and brief. But you couldn't risk it.

"Are you not scared of spreading it to me? To anyone?"

"I don't have it, babe. I've told you."

"You were still required to get tested. And since I see so many vulnerable people at work, I can't risk it." This wasn't the first time this was an issue. You'd been tested twice already. You job required you to come into contact with people all day, and more than a few confirmed cases had come through your pharmacy.

Jae-ho had had an issue those times too. Coming over when you'd told him not to, calling you until he got sick of dialing your number. You weren't sure how much longer you could take this.

"Are you cheating on me?"

The question lingered in the air as your mouth fell open in shock. Did he think that was the only reason you could not want to see him?

"No, of course not! I'm trying to protect you, Jae-ho!"

"I know you like that neighbor of yours. You still see him, don't you? Why do you see him and not me?"

"We're neighbors! This complex is so tiny, we can't help it!"

Your voice and his gradually rose with your emotions. You barely remember what either of you said after that, you only remembering sliding the promise ring off your finger and flinging it down the stairs.

✦✧✦✧

Namjoon walked down the stairs when he heard your door slam. He came upon your boyfriend, scoffing at your door. When he met the other man's eyes, Namjoon's immediately narrowed.

"Of course," Jae-ho said. He shook his head and walked down the stairs, pausing at the next landing. He bent down to retrieve something and Namjoon stopped focusing on the other man, reaching up to knock on your door.

Namjoon's knuckles didn't even make contact with your door before he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Jae-ho stood a few steps down and held out the gold promise ring you always wore.

"Give this back to Y/N," he said. "I don't want it either."

He handed Namjoon the ring before turning around and leaving for good.

✦✧✦✧

"Y/N?" Namjoon's voice cut through the dark silence of your apartment. You'd everything outside, but not realized that it was Namjoon Jae-ho was talking to. "Are you okay?

You opened the door. You tried to wipe your tears before Namjoon could take in your figure, but it was fruitless. When your eyes met his, you saw his heartbreaking at the sight of you.

"I'm okay."

"No, you're not," Namjoon said, waiting for you to give the okay for him to enter your apartment. You knew that there was no hiding from Namjoon. The two of you literally lived on top of one another and saw each other almost daily when you did the laundry or took the trash out. There was nearly no way to avoid Kim Namjoon for long.

You moved aside and closed the door behind him. Flopping down on your bed, you looked up at him. "Sorry if we woke you up."

Namjoon shook his head. "You didn't."

"Sorry to interrupt your work then," you said, feeling like you owed the man an apology for more than just this one night. "I didn't mean for it to escalate like that."

Namjoon didn't say anything. He glanced around your apartment, sensing the way that his eyes on you made you uncomfortable.

"You don't need to apologize," he said. "For anything."

You stayed silent, hugging a pillow to your chest.

The silence wasn't tense, but it wasn't calm either. There was something lingering between you. Something keeping Namjoon in your apartment after making sure you were okay. And something that allowed you to let him in at all.

"You know, whenever I was upset or I had trouble sleeping. My mom would always make me milk and cookies. It seems counterintuitive that something sugary helped me sleep. But it never failed."

Namjoon left for his apartment for a moment, coming back with a package of chocolate chip cookies and two glasses of milk. He handed you one of the glasses and sat the package of cookies down beside you.

"Is it okay if I stick around? Just in case your boyfriend tries to come back," Namjoon said. He knew his explanation was flimsy. It was obvious when the man left that he did not intend on coming back.

"Yes," you said, reaching to pull out a cookie and dip it in the milk. "I'd like that."

The two of you ate in silence. Silence rarely occurred when you saw Namjoon, no matter how much he may want it to, but now, you could tell by the tension in his shoulders that it worried him.

"You know, I kinda look forward to hearing you every night," he said. "Lets me take a break from my work. Means I get to come see you."

You chuckled, smiling for the first time that night. "Why do you think I was always loud?" The crunch of a cookie filled your pause. "I knew you would always come complain."

✦✧✦✧

"I have a present for you, Y/N," Namjoon said.

It was the holidays now. Your family was far away and none of you wanted to get on a plane. It saddened you that you wouldn't be able to see your family, but Namjoon had become your solace. He'd usually hear when you got home and about ten minutes later, he'd appear at your door, asking what you were having for dinner that night. Most of the time, you ate together.

It was just like all those other nights, except you didn't have to work the next morning. Namjoon had met you by your door, takeout in hand, and a backpack slung over his shoulder.

Namjoon reached into his backpack and pulled out a wrapped package. The paper was a bit wrinkled, indicating he'd wrapped it himself. It made you smile.

"Oh, wait," you said, getting up and walking to the closet where you pulled out a similarly wrapped package. You handed it to him and looked down at his gift for you.

Tearing off the paper, you laughed when you noticed it was headphones. They were expensive too, which made your stomach turn thinking that he spent so much money on you.

"Open the box," he said, a smug smile on his face.

You ripped open the box, finding crumpled up paper. You felt around until you felt a thin object. Pulling it out. you found a CD.

"It's a mixtape. For you." Namjoon's eyes wandered around the room. "I--uh--hope you'll play it like you do One Direction."

You flung your arms around him, but he stopped you. "There's something else."

You looked down at the box quizzically before you began pulling out the paper. Reaching inside, you felt what you immediately recognized as a ring. Thoughts ran through your mind as you pulled it out.

It was your promise ring from Jae-ho, shinier than when you had last seen it. "He wanted me to give it back to you. But, I knew it might be painful. I had it cleaned and engraved for you."

You turned the ring to see the engraving on the inside: Be Loud - KNJ

[cakesunflower]

Who’s Gonna Love You Like Me? [Brother’s Best Friend!Calum AU] Part 8

A/N: apologies that it took me over a month to update this fic!! but now i’m done with college (big yikes) so now i can get back to writing and updating on a semi regular basis :-)

Previous Parts: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

“Josie—got a cutie waiting for you in the front.” Josie glanced up at Sarah’s words, pulled out of her conversation with Lizzie as she swiveled in the leather salon chair at one of her stations. Her eyes caught sight of Calum leaning against the desk, her eyes immediately meeting his as he raised two fingers up in a wave.

Josie excused herself from Lizzie, walking down the length of the salon with her eyebrows raised and a surprised smile curling at her lips, not expecting him to drop by. “Hey,” she greeted with a small laugh, glancing at the receptionist, Maddie. “I’m gonna step out real quick.”

Maddie hummed in response and Josie grasped Calum’s wrist, pulling him outside for some privacy. Talking amongst Los Angeles pedestrian traffic was better than in front of all her coworkers, even if they were some of the chillest people she’d ever met. The sun was bright, as always, and Josie let out a laugh as Calum pressed her against the brick wall next to the window of the salon. “Hi—what’re you doing here?” Josie greeted.

Calum smiled, his frame shielding Josie from the sun as he gripped her hips. “Wanted to see you real quick and ask you somethin’,” he responded, pressing his lips to hers in a soft kiss. Josie inhaled sharply as she kissed him back, the smile evident on her lips. When they pulled away, Calum raised a hand to curl his finger around a stray lock of her blonde hair, his grin never leaving at Josie’s curious expression. Brushing his nose against hers, voice dropping low, Calum asked, “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

Josie’s heart jumped at his words, her grin widening as his finger brushed along her cheek. Her own hand had reached up to play with the chain around his neck, an accessory she thought he worked unfairly well, as she bit down on her grinning lip. Her cheeks were already hurting from the grin on her face, excitement coursing through her veins. She felt silly, being so thrilled with the simple question Calum asked her, but she would be lying if she said it wasn’t one she had been waiting for.

“I would love to,” Josie responded, feeling a warmth spread in her cheeks under Calum’s gaze. She kind of loved how he so easily made her blush.

“Great,” Calum smirked, hips pressing against hers. “You’re off tomorrow, right?” Josie nodded with a hum. “Alright—I’ll pick you up at your room at five.”

She scoffed out a laugh. “Five?” Josie asked with a raise of her eyebrows. “It’s a bit early for dinner, isn’t it?” She normally ate at seven, years of classes interfering with her schedule having an effect on when she ate.

“Not for what I’ve got in mind.” Calum chuckled, winding his arms around her waist to keep her close. “None of that dinner and a movie bullshit. I got somethin’ planned for us.” He pressed another kiss to her lips before murmuring, “Alright, get back to work.”

Josie smiled, pressing her hands to his chest, reluctant to move away from him. But right before she did, her smile turned coy. “Just so you know—I’d totally be fine with a dinner and movie with you.”

He grinned as she pulled away, heading back to the door. “Noted.”

For the rest of her shift at work, Josie couldn’t help but think Calum was a bit of a tease. She loved that he had been impatient enough to arrive at the salon to ask her on a date in person, loved the few kisses they stole before she had to go back inside. But concentrating on her next few clients had proven to be difficult, to busy trying to school her features to hide the wide grin that threatened to erupt at the mere thought of going on a date with Calum. Her excitement buzzed at her veins, crackling like electricity, and she wondered what he had planned for the two of them. 

Later that night, when Luke was in his bedroom getting ready to turn in for the night, Josie was leaving the kitchen to go into her own when Calum entered the living room, his shift for the day a short one. Josie’s eyes widened in excitement at the sight of him, making sure the water didn’t spill from her glass as she quickly ran over to him and grasped his hand. 

“Can I get a hint for where we’re going tomorrow?” she asked with a sweet smile, looking up at him with big blue eyes in hopes to get him to give in. 

But Calum knew how to handle Josie. He scoffed with a roll of his eyes, lips curling up to grin as he ran his tongue along his lower lip. “Not happenin’, sweetheart,” he responded, making Josie’s lips fall into a pout. “Just don’t wear heels.”

Josie scoffed, gaping up at him. “That’s so vague, Calum.”

He moved past her, a ghost of a smirk apparent as he took off the cushions on the couch in preparation to pull out the bed. As Josie walked over to help him, he pointed out, “At least you know it’s not fancy.”

Josie didn’t hesitate in taking one of the cushions and throwing it at Calum with a huff. He merely laughed, catching it easily before it hit him and placing it on the ground. “You’re the worst,” she declared, fixing his pillow before walking around the bed to head up the stairs to turn in for the night.

Behind her, she could hear the smile in Calum’s voice as he asked, “What, no goodnight kiss?”

Raising an eyebrow, she looked at him over her shoulder. “Do you think you deserve it?”

Calum’s face scrunched, eyebrows drawing together and lips pulling downwards as he scoffed. “Yes.” Josie watched him, fighting off the amused smile that threatened to grow as he approached her, his dark eyes never leaving her blue. “All this sneaking around, keeping my hands to myself so we don’t get caught? Fuck yeah, I deserve a damn goodnight kiss,” he grunted.

She couldn’t fight the grin that split across her face, only for it to be obscured by Calum’s hand placing itself on the back of her neck, using it to tug her closer as he bent down to close the gap between the two of them. Josie wasn’t about to push him away, though she still smiled against Calum’s lips as she kissed him back. He tasted like minty toothpaste and Josie was no stranger to the subtle yet exciting thrill she felt shoot down her spine at the act of so openly kissing him in her house, knowing her brother was just up the stairs. 

She would much rather embrace the surge of exhilaration of sneaking around behind Luke’s back than the guilt of keeping such a secret from him.

*****

As he had said, there was a knock on Josie’s bedroom door at five in the afternoon the next day, right when she had finished tying the laces to her most comfortable pairs of red Converse. She paired it with a yellow sundress, tight around the bodice and fluttering around her mid thigh, and it consisted of small red roses that matched her shoes. Calum had said it wasn’t a fancy date, so Josie hoped her outfit choice was fitting to whatever he had planned for them.

In the couple of seconds it took for Josie to walk from her bed to the door, she did her best to tamp down on the excited flutter that had been a consistent presence in her stomach since yesterday. It was kind of funny; her and Calum were already together, obviously, but the idea on going on their first date made it seem all the more official. Like they were actually doing this—despite having been doing it for a while. Being with Calum, even though they were sneaking around, brought Josie a sense of calmness that she hadn’t experienced with another guy before. As though in the grand scheme of things, she had nothing to worry about, no reason to doubt Calum or what they had.

It was refreshing and exactly what she needed.

Him. He was exactly what she needed.

When Josie opened the door, her grin easily curled at her lips at the sight of Calum, dressed in his favorite baggy black pants, a silver belt chain looped on the side, with a white shirt tucked in and his shining black leather jacket on top. He looked casual and comfortable and so unbelievably good—if Josie lacked better control of herself, she’d melt into a puddle right then and there.

Instead, a smile graced her pink lips, leaning against her door as she playfully mused, “Well, hello there.”

His boyish charm was ever present as he returned, “I’m here to pick up a blonde bombshell.”

At that, Josie let out a very unladylike snort, pushing herself away from the door as she turned her back to him to grab her purse off the dresser. “Don’t ever call me that again,” Josie laughed, grabbing her denim jacket in case she needed it. Raising an eyebrow, hoping to filter some of the overwhelming excitement she felt, Josie asked, “We out?”

Calum grinned and the glimmer in his eyes told Josie he was just as excited, and nervous, as she was. “Yes, ma’am.”

They got in his car and were on the road just moments later, all the while Calum kept expertly shut about where they were going. After shutting her down for the sixth time, Calum scoffed before letting out a laugh, shooting her a look as he said, “You’re the most impatient person I’ve ever met.”

Josie shot him a skeptical look as his playlist played a Coldplay song. “More than Ashton?” she questioned, the smugness seeping into her voice because she knew she wasn’t nearly as bad as their friend.

Calum scoffed, one hand on the wheel as his left elbow remained propped on the door, the window down to let in the pleasant breeze. “Yeah, I’d say so.”

Josie’s jaw dropped, a gasp escaping her as she pointed at him accusingly. “That’s fucked up.”

He merely grinned, shifting so his left hand was on the wheel to allow his right hand to grab her pointing finger before maneuvering her hand so he could lace their fingers together. The gesture only widened Josie’s smile, warming her cheeks as she felt the breeze dance through her blonde tresses as Calum drove them to whatever secret destination he planned for. Josie eventually resigned herself to Calum’s desire of wanting to keep things under wraps, enjoying the car ride with him as the music played, the wind billowed in her ears and his fingers remained laced with hers.

The calm that settled over her was welcomed, enjoying the sensation of her hair tickling her skin as it danced in the wind and the warmth Calum’s touch brought. Already, Josie knew this was probably the best date she’d been on. Simply because it was with Calum.

Soon enough, they arrived at their destination, and Josie’s eyebrows raised as they passed the sign that read their arrival at Lake Balboa Park as Calum pulled into a parking lot. Josie hadn’t been to Lake Balboa before, but there were barely any clouds and the branches on pretty cherry blossom trees, and as she stepped out of the car, the gravel crunching underneath her shoes, the smile was easily lifting her lips.

Especially when Calum walked to the trunk of the car, opened it, and revealed a folded blanket and, quite literally, a sizable picnic basket that had Josie’s smile widening all the more. Her lips were parted in surprise, gaze flickering so her blue eyes could meet Calum’s triumphant brown ones, and no amount of sunshine could spread warmth throughout Josie’s body like Calum did in that moment. He grabbed the blanket and tossed it at her, which Josie caught even in the midst of her shocked state, and the wide grin he wore told her he knew just how off guard he’d caught her.

“A picnic?” she asked, well aware of the answer, the excitement evident in her tone and the way her dimples deepened at her grin. It was taking a lot of willpower not to bounce on the balls of her feet. “Stop—that’s so romantic.”

Calum smirked as he shut the trunk, quirking an eyebrow as they began walking. “Why do you sound so surprised? I can be romantic,” he added with a huff.

Josie snorted, hugging the blanket to her chest as she shot Calum a look. The sarcasm was evident in her tone when she drawled, “Yeah, pushing me into the pull because Luke came home just screams romance.”

He shot her a flat look and Josie merely smiled sweetly, and though she was teasing him, she found the memory funny. It had happened only a few days ago when the two of them had been enjoying their backyard pool. At one point, they’d gotten out, were in the middle of kissing, when Luke’s loud voice announced his arrival and, in a panic, Calum had pushed Josie into the pool. When she had resurfaced, she stared at him in utter disbelief while Calum had the decency to look just as surprised at his actions. 

The two of them continued down the path, greenery and flora around them and Josie was mesmerized by the sight of the lake, noticing the ducks that swam contently and the few pedal boats among them. Eventually, Calum found a nice spot under a tree right on the soft grass, the lake in front of them, and Josie smiled as she spread the blanket before the two of them settled on it.

“Alright,” Josie grinned, sitting comfortably with her legs folded beneath her, leaning back on one hand as her gaze met Calum’s. “Dazzle me with romance.”

She watched intently as Calum began pulling out the items he had packed, consisting of cloth napkins, plates, utensils, two glasses to drink the red wine—which made Josie a lot more excited than it should’ve. She then noted all of the food he brought, her eyebrows raising and lips parting at the dishes; fresh corn and tomato fettuccini, shrimp summer rolls, cut up pieces of toasted baguette, and chocolate truffles for dessert.

Holy shit. “Did you make these?” Josie asked, the awe evident in her voice as she eyed the fettuccini and shrimp rolls.

Calum’s gaze met hers and Josie saw the pride dancing in his dark eyes, smiling as he answered, “Sure did.” Then, with a smirk, he asked, “Are you dazzled yet?”

And a little bit in love, but Josie kept that fleeting thought to herself.

Instead, she leaned forward, right hand finding the back of Calum’s neck as she pulled him close, hoping her kiss would convey just how amazing all of this was, how much she appreciated it. Calum truly went out of his way to make their first date special, taking advantage of the perfect weather and putting his skills in the kitchen to use in making the food that looked and smelled delicious. There was a permanent warmth in Josie’s chest; no one had ever made such an effort for her before, and it was impossible to keep the smile off her tingling lips after she slowly pulled away from Calum.

His smile remained, brushing his nose against hers as he said, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Calum completed the set up by pulling out his phone and letting some music gently play as he poured them some wine before they indulged in the food he had prepared. Josie couldn’t keep the smile off her face even if she tried as they ate, drank, talked. Her gaze never left Calum, admiring the way the sun peeked through the cherry blossom tree above them and splashed against him in certain spots, feeling like she was in the scene of a damn movie as a flower occasionally fluttered down and brushed against her skin.

Eventually, after they’d finished the delicious food Calum had made and the wine was pleasantly warming her up, Josie sat with her back against the tree and Calum’s head resting in her lap. Her fingers were running through his dark hair, the strands soft between the digits, and she admired the content smile on his face, eyes shut as he reveled in the feel of her fingers in his hair.

They’d been at the lake for over an hour or so, judging by the way the sun was slowly making its descent, but neither of them made a move to leave. Instead, Josie picked up one of the cherry blossoms that had fallen next to her, holding the pink flower by its short stem and twirling it before glancing down at Calum. With a gentle smile upturning her lips, Josie held it upside down before lowering it, tickling the tip of his nose with the petal.

She watched as his nose wrinkled, closed eyes scrunching at the sensation as his lips curled into a close mouthed smile. The peaceful expression that rested on his features transformed into an amused grin, breathing out a laugh as Josie hummed, “Thank you for today, Cal.”

He opened his eyes then, dark brown looking up into bright blue, and his smile softened. The natural pinkness in his cheeks tempted Josie to kiss them as she brushed some curls away from his forehead. Calum reach his left hand up, the silver bracelet dropping away from his wrist as he cupped Josie’s cheek. “Anythin’ for you, pretty girl,” Calum told her earnestly.

The blush returned to her cheeks, but she didn’t have much time to register it as Calum pushed himself up and brought her down enough for their lips to meet in the middle. Josie melted into him, into the kiss, and came to the conclusion if a perfect day were to exist, it would be this.

They’d watched the sunset after, and as the cicadas began chirping throughout the darkened park, the two of them packed up the picnic and, with Calum’s fingers intertwining with hers, made their way back to his car. The drive home, as always, was filled with chatter and music, and when they pulled into the driveway, Josie sat up. “Oh, Luke’s home.”

She glanced at Calum, who didn’t look troubled at all, and it wasn’t lost on Josie how his calm managed to relax her effortlessly. So the two of them got out of the car, deciding to bring in the picnic basket—the most damning evidence of their outing—later on when there was no chance of Luke catching sight of it.

Josie chewed on her lower lip, unable to stop the nervous habit, as they walked into the house, instantly catching the attention of her brother, who was on the living room couch watching TV. “Hey,” he greeted before turning to look at the two of them, eyebrows raising as a corner of his mouth lifted in amusement. “Where’re you coming from all dressed up—a hot date?” he joked, gazing at Josie questioningly.

She knew he was completely kidding around, but the oblivious truth in Luke’s words had Josie’s heart momentarily stopping, stomach dropping before she forced herself to scoff. “No—I was out with some friends and asked Calum to pick me up.”

It would be better if she didn’t focus on how swiftly that lie escaped her.

Next to her, Calum huffed. “What, I don’t look all dressed up?”

Josie wanted to nudge him into silence as Luke gave him a once over before offering a single shrug. “Nah,” he answered before turning to watch TV once more, unaware to the scowl that scrunched at Calum’s eyebrows, mildly affronted.

Despite herself, Josie couldn’t fight off the amused smile upturning her lips as Calum made a face at the back of Luke’s, so childish and boyish and endearing. Leaning close to him, her voice a whisper, she chanced the risk of Luke hearing her as she hummed, “I think you look hot.”

The smug smirk on Calum’s face, accompanied by the wink he sent her, made the risk worth it.

*****

“Go on without me—leave me here to explode in a mess of spaghetti sauce.”

Josie caught Luke’s bemused eye roll as the rest of the boys chuckled at her antics, though she was serious about the implication of being unable to move. She dropped down on a bench on the sidewalk, her stomach feeling heavy after the lunch she practically inhaled; the portion of spaghetti had been the size of her head, almost, and Josie had practically licked the dish clean. And although her mouth was quite happy with the delicious explosion of taste, her stomach was another issue. She genuinely felt like she couldn’t move.

And the fact that the cars were parked a few several blocks away. . . Josie didn’t think she could make it.

“Alright, Lil’ H,” Ashton spoke up, making his way to her and promptly ignoring the distasteful scrunch of her face at the nickname he’d uttered. It was one he and the rest of the boys coined for her back when they were a lot younger, and although they outgrew the use of it, there were still some instances where they’d mention it. Josie had never liked it. She watched as he stood in front of her before turning his back to her, wiggling his fingers out at the seated girl as he said, “Hop on.”

Her eyes lit up, understanding that he was offering her a piggy back ride. Not needing to be told twice, Josie got up as Ashton crouched down enough so it was easy for her to hop onto his back, arms winding loosely around his neck as his hands gripped her thighs to keep her up as he stood straight. She grinned where she was settled on his back, catching the exasperated shake of Luke’s head and the fond grins on Michael and Calum’s faces before they all continued on their way.

Moments like these made Josie a lot happier than one would think. For as long as she and Luke knew the boys, Josie had always feared that she was encroaching on her brother’s friendship with them. When they were kids and she would sometimes tag along, at first Luke had been irritated, but his fondness for Josie always won out in the end, and he’d bring her along to get food or to the park when he would go with the boys. Because of that, the rest of them grew fond of her too. It wasn’t hard, either—it wasn’t like there was years and years separating her from them in age. Only a couple, but she was still Luke’s little sister. And even though they would harmlessly tease her for that, always playful and never spiteful, there had been moments when Josie would think they were sick of her tagging along when she did.

Now, though, with all of them in their twenties, that feeling never came back. Even if it did, Josie knew that Luke would never allow for it to stay for too long. Same went for the other boys. And Josie loved them for it.

“Come to think of it—I don’t think it’s that great of an idea for you to give me a piggy back ride after eating,” Josie piped up, glancing down at Ashton with a raise of her eyebrows.

He made a noncommittal sound, utterly at ease as they continued. “It’s either this or listen to you complain—which I can totally do without.”

Josie scoffed at his teasing as she heard Calum lowly chuckle next to them. “I’ve got my arms around you, Irwin. I can easily choke you.”

She couldn’t quite see his face, but Josie heard the smirk in Ashton’s voice as he responded, “Sounds kinky.”

Luke, having heard him, shot Ashton a scandalized look that the rest of them merely laughed at. Josie was sure she heard him mutter something about his friends corrupting his little sister, and she rolled her lips into her mouth as she glanced down at Calum to her right. He met her gaze, mirth and mischief both dancing in his eyes, silently letting her know he’d heard Luke as well.

They kept making their way down the sidewalk until Michael stopped in front of the glass walls of a vintage looking record store. He didn’t even have to tell them he wanted to go in before everyone was already turning towards the shop, Josie hopping off from Ashton’s back as she wandered inside. It smelt just like Josie thought it would; of plastic wrap, laminated cardboard, and heavily treaded carpet, yet there was something familiar about it as she danced the tips of her fingers over a few records stacked on the table in front of her.

They all shuffled through the aisles, looking at the various records, an unfamiliar classic rock song playing in the background. As Josie moved, she happened to glance up, only to freeze when her eyes startlingly met an achingly familiar pair of green ones. The breath caught in Josie’s throat, nearly choking her, as Austin stood a few tables away, a furrow knitting together his eyebrows as he registered exactly who he was looking at, too. And when he did, the confused frown transformed into a scowl, and the blood in Josie’s veins froze, ironically springing her into action, too.

“Oh, fuck me,” she whispered, unaware of Michael’s confused glance her way. The panic heightened, though, when her ex-boyfriend moved to approach her, and with her eyes widening in alarm, Josie silently turned around and swiftly made her way out of the store, ignoring Michael’s confused calls of her name.

Shit, shit, shit. She did not want to have an unprecedented confrontation with her ex-boyfriend, who—by the looks of it—seemingly had a bone to pick with her. Pushing the door of the store open, Josie stumbled out onto the sidewalk, the fresh air not enough to loosen the tightness of her throat, and she’d barely made it two steps away from the store when Austin’s voice froze her in her tracks.

“Do you ever get tired of running away?”

Josie squeezed her eyes shut momentarily, face scrunching in aggravation before she forced herself to turn around, meeting Austin’s unimpressed gaze. Despite herself, Josie rushed out, “I don’t run away.”

He scoffed, not at all convinced with his arms crossed over his chest. His tattooed biceps was a bit more pronounced under the short sleeves of his shirt than she remembered. He’d been working out, it seemed. “That’s exactly what you just did,” Austin pointed out, a wry smirk tilting at his lips. “What, you didn’t want me to see you with your new boyfriend?”

As if the universe had some kind of personal agenda against her, just as Austin had asked his question, the door behind him opened and out stepped her brother and the rest of the boys. Josie was biting down on the tip of her tongue as Austin stepped away to look at both her and the boys, and the panic quickened the pace of her heart as Austin gave them all a once over.

Luke frowned at Austin, knowing exactly who the guy was, jaw tight as he asked, “What’re you bothering my sister for?”

Just as he had asked that, Josie had simultaneously told Austin, “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

She’d desperately wished the words hadn’t fallen past her mouth, noting the brief flicker of Calum’s gaze to her, and Austin rolled his eyes at her words. There was something dancing in his green eyes, and Josie recognized it as his intent of making this as difficult for her as possible, a resentment driven need for some kind of revenge over her breaking up with him more than once.

“No?” Austin cocked his head to the side, challenging. Josie was fully aware of everyone’s gaze on her—especially Calum’s. But she watched as Austin allowed his gaze to wander over the four other men, a sardonic smirk on his lips as he asked, “Tell me, Josie—which one of your brother’s buddies are you fucking around with?”

Her heart jumped out of her body, as if a bucket of ice cold water had been poured over her head as she gaped at Austin and the obvious smug expression he wore. Oh, God. No, no, no. This wasn’t how any of this was supposed to go down. She couldn’t even be furious with Austin for pulling this shit—Josie was too busy drowning in the panic and anxiety that churned her stomach, the busy buzz of the street silencing into the background, all too aware of her thundering heart beat. This wasn’t happening.

Josie vaguely heard Luke sputter indignantly, ready to give Austin a piece of his mind, but her ex beat him to it as she watched his gaze take in the other men standing before him. She watched as Austin’s gaze ultimately landed on a stone faced Calum, who also looked about two seconds away from breaking Austin’s nose, before her ex huffed out a humorless laugh through his smirk and jutted his chin at the tattooed brunette. “It’s this one, isn’t it?” He clicked his tongue, a knowing expression flickering across his face. “I saw you with him around campus a couple of months ago. Should’ve known.”

Josie’s gaze flashed to Calum, who didn’t meet her gaze. Instead, he was too busy glaring at Austin, hands curled into fists at his side. Michael and Ashton remained silent, the tension enveloping them nearly suffocating as Luke’s confused glare settled on Austin. “Yeah—I told them they should hang out when Cal was visiting. . .”

The way he trailed off, his stare flickering between his hardened best friend and frozen sister, Josie could pick up on his confusion, the skepticism that was filtering into his voice as he looked between the two of them. Luke looked unsure of what to believe, his irritation with Austin’s arrival overshadowed by the bewilderment his accusation brought. 

Next to her, Austin snorted. “Looked way more than hanging out to me,” he surmised, and Josie was overcome with the urge to sock him in the jaw, too. God, what was he doing? Why was he doing this?

Of course, she knew. She was just still trying to process.

His green eyes met her unblinking, startled blue ones, and Josie’s heart dropped at the guiltless look in his gaze, utterly unapologetic that he just majorly screwed things up for her. With yet another sardonic smile, he quipped, “Nice to know I’m not the only one you’ve fucked over.” He purposefully looked towards her brother, let out a scoff of contempt, before pushing past them to head back into the store.

Everyone was a bit too shocked to do anything but let him go.

Hesitantly, Josie shifted her gaze and it immediately landed on Calum. He was watching her and Josie’s throat tightened at the concern she was met with. He looked worried—not that Josie blamed him. She was pretty sure she hadn’t taken a breath in the past few minutes.

Calum looked like he wanted to step over to her, to hold her hand, but he also looked conflicted, unsure of what the right move was. Josie wasn’t sure, either. Yet her softened gaze remained on him, hoping her silence would convey that she understood, that this was all so royally fucked.

But then she looked at Luke, who had been watching them this whole time, and Josie’s throat locked up when Luke’s blue eyes narrowed. He took a step away so he could look at both Calum and Josie, eyebrows drawing together as Michael and Ashton exchanged a look. “Is he. . .” Luke trailed off, a disbelieving scoff escaping him as he looked at Calum and Josie. “Is that true? Did you two—”

All she could make out in his tone was one of disbelief, nothing else to give away how he was feeling. Maybe he was as numb as Josie felt. 

Her lips parted but no words came out, because Josie truly didn’t know what to say. Should she confirm Austin’s accusation—his truth? Or deny, deny, deny? It seemed that in that moment, all of the sneaking around behind Luke’s back and subtle lies were starting to choke her, daring her to spew out another one right to his face after basically being told the truth from a third party. Sure, maybe Josie could play off Austin’s words as some jealous, resentful ex, and maybe Luke would believe her. 

But, God. She was sick of the lies.

Before she could even decide what to do, Calum moved, and Josie’s gaze instantly fell upon him as he came to stand next to her. She watched him, wide eyed and parted lips, as his gaze remained fixed on Luke, who was watching him with sharp eyes. “We aren’t fucking around,” Calum told him, all confident and firm despite the bombshell he was dropping. “And it wasn’t just a random hook up. Josie and I are together.”

Her heart was in her throat, anything she could possibly say dying on her tongue as she looked up at Calum, eyes wide at his confession. They hadn’t quite discussed when the right time would be to tell Luke about them, and Austin had made sure they wouldn’t after what he’d done. And as surprised as Josie was that Calum took it upon himself to confirm the truth, there was also the tiniest bit of relief she felt relax her stiff muscles. The kind of relief that came with letting go of a secret that had been weighing her down for too long.

Calum’s gaze flickered down to her and Josie inhaled softly at the look in his eyes; soft, reassuring, encouraging. It was enough to make it easier for Josie to breathe.

But when she looked back at Luke, who was still silent, it felt as though an iron grasp had found its way around her heart. 

And instead of exploding on them in a fury as Josie had feared, Luke remained still, Ashton and Michael watching the scene unfold intently. But Josie remained focused on Luke. His expression was empty, features never giving away what he was thinking, what he was feeling. Luke, who was so expressive, but looked utterly blank in that moment.

Who was quiet. Too quiet—a complete contradiction to the betrayed anger that was swirling in his eyes. And, Josie realized with her heart sinking to the pit of her stomach, Luke’s silence was a whole lot worse than anything she could’ve imagined.

--

tags: @irwinkitten​ @loveroflrh​ @astroashtonio​ @sweetcherrymike​ @softforcal​ @wildflowergrae​ @loverofhood​ @captain-what-is-going-on​ @angelbbycal​ @singt0mecalum​ @hopelessxcynic​ @lfwallscouldtalk​ @bodhi-black​ @findingliam-o​ @softlrh​ @highfivecalum​ @calumsmermaid​ @erikamarie41​ @quintodosuniversos​ @longlastingdaydream​ @babylon-corgis​ @lukehemmingsunflower​ @spideyseavey @miss-saltwatercowgirl​ @pastelpapermoons​ @conquerwhatliesahead92​ @rotten-kandy​ @metangi​ @neigcthood​ @ohhmuke​ @mindkaleidoscope​ @5sos-and-hessa​ @trustmeimawhalebiologist​ @vxlentinecal​ @pettybassists​ @vaporshawn​ @lu-my-golden-boi​ @visualm3nte​ @isabella-mae13​ @dontjinx-it​ @lifeakaharry​ @neonweeknds​ @antisocialbandmate​ @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave​ @calpalbby​ @grreatgooglymoogly​ @sunnysidesblog​ @cocktail-calum​ @miahelizaaabeth​ @dramallamawithsparkles​ @kaytiebug14​ @hoodskillerqueen​ @bitchinbabylon​ @empathycth​ @xhaileyreneex​ @inlovehoodx​ @aestheticrelated @bloodlinecal​ @sublimehood​ @madbomb​ @raabiac​ @britnicole11​ @outofmylimitcal​ @wildflower-cth​ @bloodmoonashton​ @vxidhood​ @gosh-im-short​ @thesubtweeter​ @mycollectionofnuts​ @cthwldflwr​ 

[racebox-of-higgars]

Why Was I Not Cut Out For The Task?

The final (at the moment) fic in the “Unkindest Cut Of All” series. 

MAJOR SUICIDE TW - DO NOT READ IF THIS COULD BE TRIGGERING FOR YOU. Please stay safe, and my DMs are always open if you need to talk. 

Summary: "Spot slumped onto the couch, cradling the jacket against his chest as he finally let the tsunami past its barriers and everything came over him at once, wave after wave of unrestrained, gasping sobs that wouldn’t let him come up for air, not once. Each one hurt more and more than the last, as tears flowed down his face, hot and unrelenting."

Spot finds out that Race is gone, and does his best to cope.

Based on the poem "Straw House, Straw Dog" by Richard Siken, with some influence from the song No Children by The Mountain Goats. Title from Turtles All The Way Down by Sammy Copley.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31475210

@angelslibrary 

It had been two days since Spot had last heard from Race. “You can sleep now.” That was the last message he had received. If it had been anyone else, he wouldn’t have been worried, but this was Race, who spammed him with 47 texts a minute at the best of times, but all he got was radio silence. So the fear slowly sank in, settling deep in the pit of his stomach and staying there, something he was only vaguely aware of at the edges of his consciousness. It crept in, until it became all he could think about.

Yesterday: 11:32am

You: Race, you okay?

Yesterday: 1:56pm

You: Can you just text me back? Let me know you’re okay? I want to talk to you about something.

Yesterday: 4:23pm

You: I’ll tell you now. I’m going to come out to my parents, and our friends. You won’t have to hide anymore

Yesterday: 11:18pm

You: Goodnight Racer, I love you

Today: 3:36am

You: Tony, I’m really fucking worried now. Please just tell me you’re okay

Today: 3:37am

You: Tony please

Today: 3:37am

You: Tony?

Today: 10:55am

You: Sorry for blowing you up last night. Are you alright?

You: 7 unanswered calls

Tony wasn’t answering. He wouldn’t pick up the phone. Why wouldn’t he pick up? He hadn’t even been online, which was out of character, since Race could nearly always be found endlessly scrolling Instagram or TikTok. Something was incredibly wrong, but Spot could not work out what, so instead he just sat there, going over every possible bad thing that could’ve happened and praying none of it was true as he couldn’t do anything but wait.

At around 2pm, just as Spot was getting ready to send yet another text, a knock sounded at his door. He half expected to see Race standing on the other side (he had a habit of showing up unannounced), but not Jack. He definitely didn’t expect to see Jack Kelly at his doorstep, with no warning, no reason to be there.

See, he and Jack had never gotten along well once. At best, they tolerated each other, at worst, they beat the shit out of each other. They tried to stay relatively civil for Race’s sake, but that didn’t mean that they had to actually like one another. They had a mutual agreement to not kill each other as long as it would make Race happy. That’s just how they worked.

“Why are you here? Where’s Race, he hasn’t answered me in days?” Jack’s face fell and he almost broke there and then, but he schooled his features into something carefully apathetic.

“I’ll explain, I just- you might want to sit down.” Spot frowned, but sat down on the sofa, whole body tense as the fear crept in again. Jack sat opposite him and set down the bag he had been carrying beside him.

Jack looked oddly serious, which was too out of character for Jack for it to go unnoticed.

“What’s going on?” Spot asked. Jack pulled a folded piece of paper out of the bag and handed it to Spot silently. Spot frowned in confusion as he unfurled it, eyes scanning over Race’s looping scrawl.

Spot. I want to open this by saying that I love you, and I’m sorry.

I’m sorry we could never have that future that you wanted. I’m sorry for tearing everything apart, over and over and over.

Spot shut down. He didn’t scream or cry or throw things, he was just unsettlingly silent. The pain crashed over him in waves, each one stronger than the last, but still, he couldn’t cry. He was just numb as his world came tumbling down around him. He seemed to collapse in on himself, as his shoulders slumped and his whole body seemed to cave in with the weight of the world. His hands trembled slightly as he kept reading.

You’re everything to me. I need you to know that. I know that I’m unlovable, I have for a while, but you made me forget that for a beautiful, fleeting moment. For the first time in my life I felt worthy of love, and it was because of you, and I can’t thank you enough for that. You gave me some of my best memories and feelings and you are unattainable and you have a million reasons to throw me aside but you don’t, for some illogical reason that I can’t fathom, and there will never be the words to describe how I feel about you. Just know that I love you beyond what should be possible.

Spot was completely numb as his eyes scanned the words on the page without actually reading them. He took nothing in, he couldn’t. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t move, he couldn’t speak. Cold hands seemed to wrap around his throat, squeezing tightly as it stole his breath. Fuck, he couldn’t breathe. He couldn't do anything but stare at the words in front of him as they swum through his blurred vision. Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK. Everything was spinning and falling apart around him and there was nothing he could do to stop it or try to hold everything together. There was no putting this back together.

I am drowning, Spot, and there’s no sign of land. I was crashing and burning and bringing you down with me, hand in unlovable hand. I’m sorry for hurting you in all of this. This isn’t how it was supposed to end, but it was inevitable.

Y’know, our friends always say that there’s light at the end of the tunnel, just hold on, but I think they’re wrong. There is no light at the end of my tunnel. It just gets darker and darker and darker with no escape. This was my only escape, and I’m sorry it came to this. There was nothing else for me to do. It should never have ended like this, it wasn’t supposed to, but I couldn’t stop it. I wish things were different and we could’ve had forever.

Spot couldn’t help but think about the life they had planned, down to the most meticulous details. He had never thought it would happen exactly as they had talked about, that seemed impossible. All the best laid plans get torn apart anyway, but he hadn’t expected them to get torn apart in this way. He thought they would at least have a future.

There are a million things I could say here, but they would all be cliche, and I know you find those disgusting so I’ll keep this short. I love you. I love you so fucking much and I’m so sorry that things had to end this way. I’ll never stop loving you, I will until I can’t anymore. I hope that I’ll get to see you again someday, but until then, please know that I love you so fucking much, I always will.

Spot didn’t know what to do. Everything spun around him. He felt sick as the ground shifted under his feet and everything was just off-kilter and he couldn’t think or breathe or do anything but sit there and read the words that made him sick to his stomach.

I want you to have my jacket. I hope that someday you’ll have the courage to wear it.

I love you,

Tony.

The note slipped from Spot’s hand as he stared blankly at the air where it had been. Jack pulled Race’s jacket out of the bag and handed it to Spot.

“He- uh- he wanted you to have this,” Jack said, utterly out of his depth, with no idea what to say or do. All he knew is that they were going through the same loss, the same pain, with no way out. Spot took it from him, holding it gently, as if it were made of glass. It still smelled like Race.

“I’d like to be alone, please,” he said, voice hoarse with the difficulty of holding back an ocean.

“Are you sure that’s for the best?” Jack asked, brows furrowed with concern. He never thought he would be worried for Spot Conlon, but he also never thought something like this would happen.

“Leave me the fuck alone, Kelly!” Spot shouted. Jack held his hands up in surrender.

“Okay, okay. Just- text me if you want to talk? Please?”

“Get the fuck out.” Jack took that as a no.

Spot slumped onto the couch, cradling the jacket against his chest as he finally let the tsunami past its barriers and everything came over him at once, wave after wave of unrestrained, gasping sobs that wouldn’t let him come up for air, not once. Each one hurt more and more than the last, as tears flowed down his face, hot and unrelenting.

He didn’t know how long he cried for, but he couldn’t cry anymore. Now he just felt empty, hollow. His head hurt with the force of his sobs and his chest hurt from trying desperately just to breathe, but that wouldn’t bring Race back. Nothing would. He was gone.

Spot’s days were monotone. Wake up, have a coffee, watch mindless TV to block out the screaming thoughts that clawed at his mind, dream. Wake up, have a coffee, watch mindless TV to block out the screaming thoughts that clawed at his mind, dream. Wake up, have a- stop. He couldn't break the cycle. Over and over again the same things, as if he was going through the days on autopilot.

His dreams were the only thing that changed. Visions of memories, both good and bad - Race bathing in sunlight. Race’s tears mixing with the rain. Race dancing in the fields. Race collapsed at the bottom of some deep pit. Race’s eyes in the light of a bonfire, his head thrown back with laughter. Race about to burn. Race burning up (he seemed to smile from the centre of his fire). Race, Race, Race. He didn’t stop, didn’t leave Spot alone.

Spot remembered their last conversation. It was burned into his mind. Race, lying on his chest, tracing patterns on his collarbone.

“I want an adventure.” He had said. “I want to feel alive.”

“So have an adventure,” Spot answered. Race’s lips upturned into a cold, cold smile.

“Watch me, Spot. I’ll have the adventure of a lifetime.” He had the greatest adventure, the adventure to end a lifetime.

Every night was the same. Endless dreams, endless nightmares, endless visions of Race’s face and god all Spot wanted to do was reach out and touch him and know that he was there but every time he tried he disappeared in his arms. Spot was falling and falling and falling and Race couldn’t catch him because Race was dead.

Race had wanted to be cremated, so they cremated him and as Spot looked at the ashes he thought about the dream of Race smiling at him through the flames that consumed him. It was a sick sort of thing, really. They scattered the ashes in the wind by the sea. The sea like his eyes, alight with a fire gone out too soon. It was all too soon. Too much, too fast. They were too young to be feeling grief like this.

“I want an adventure.” Those words echoed over and over in Spot’s mind, the forlorn way Race had said them, as if longing for a childhood gone too soon. Spot thought them over, turning them over and over in his head before he came to his conclusion. He would have the adventure Race didn't get.

He found himself in the woods. Trees surrounded him, shrouding him from the outside world and birds sang from their nests. He ran through the trees, leaping over roots and straying from the beaten dirt path into unmarked territory. Birds flew from their nests as he passed and sticks and leaves crunched underfoot. He ran and he ran and he knew that Race wouldn’t be there to catch him if he stumbled, like the many times he had been before, but he didn’t care. His lungs burned, his legs burned, and Race was still smiling at him through the flames and this time Spot smiled back.

Spot had his adventure. It wasn’t the one he wanted, but it was the only one he was able to have.

Race was always there in some corner of his mind, like a fever Spot just couldn’t break, but he was learning to live with it. He was learning to live with the cold sweats and headaches and tremors, learning to live with the pain. It wasn’t going to go away, it never would, but he could learn to accept it as part of himself. Race would always be there, but his presence was one Spot could live with.

That didn’t make it any easier though. Spot couldn’t do anything. He was completely numb, no matter what he tried to make himself feel alive. He couldn’t eat, he couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t do anything, it wasn’t like he wanted to anyway. He just lay there in bed, with Race’s jacket in his arms as the scent of Race overtook him and he listened to the blood pound in his eyes because that’s all he had the energy for. He tried to fix things, over and over, but there’s no fixing or bringing back the dead, and no matter how much Spot tried, Race was still dead, still gone.

He was dead, but still everywhere. Still hurt. Race tore everything in half. There was no putting it back together as Race burned it all down and Spot couldn’t rid himself of that nightmare, Race smiling back at him through the flames, a look in his eyes just like the one he had when he had told Spot to, “Watch me.” It coaxed Spot in, and made him want to follow. With those slightly upturned lips and the flames dancing in his eyes, who wouldn’t want to follow him? But Spot couldn’t, he knew he couldn’t.

Even so, he held onto that jacket like a lifeline. It was all he had left. The one thing he hadn’t lost to those cruel, merciless flames. It was the only thing that made him think, I don’t have to follow. I’ll wait. I have this piece of Race to keep me here, Race wouldn’t have given it to me otherwise. He could hold on, as long as he had this part of Race to keep him here. It was a choice, really. Follow Race, or try to make some good out of the worst situation possible. Whichever one takes over, whichever one you feed, that would decide how the rest of Spot’s life would go. He could maybe do something good with this. He looked at the jacket, and he knew Race had left it to him for a reason, he had wanted Spot to find the courage in himself to be out and proud.

He still couldn’t wear it, though.

He had to do something. Everything was slowly becoming too much. Spot stood in the rain as it slammed the pavement, soaking his skin, soaking his clothes, freezing him to the bone but he couldn’t move, couldn’t think. He felt alive as he stood out there, for the first time in months since Race had gone. He had thought it was getting easier to wake up each day, but it hadn’t. He hadn’t felt alive in so long, it was a shock to his system. He let the rain seep through his clothes and relished in the way he shivered against the bitter cold and the sky was black with thick, dark clouds and there was nothing but him, the sky, and the never ending rain.

The rain gave way to snow.

Had it been a year already? Spot stood under the fire-coloured sky as the snow came down around him in a sheet of pearlescent white. He wrapped Race’s jacket tighter around himself, inhaling Race’s scent that had mostly faded or given way to his own, despite how much Spot had tried to preserve it. It had taken a year, one of rain and blue skies (like Race’s eyes, Spot couldn’t help but think) and terrible storms and snow, but Spot had finally found it within himself to wear the jacket. The pride pins glistened proudly under the cold winter sunlight, and Spot’s courage surged. They were all so very Race, wearing the jacket made him feel as though Race was right there with him, holding his hand through everything. Spot smiled.

[jjmaebank]

Amnesia - JJ Maybank

a/n: this is based off the classic song Amnesia by 5sos, I'm sorry but I'm acc tempted to write so many more purely based on 5sos songs cuz there r so many GEMS. this one’s just a classic and this album reminds me of my childhood jfskk

LISTEN TO THE SONG WHILE READING (if you want lol)

Flashbacks are in italics!!

warnings: sad :((

Words: 2.8k

[GIF NOT MINE CREDIT TO OWNER]

+

I drove by all the places we used to hang out getting wasted

JJ would drive by the beach every day just to get a glimpse at your special spot through the car window. When you first left he would sit there for hours, running his fingers through the sand that the two of you would lie on as you stared at the stars. He would sit there for hours hoping that maybe if he stayed there long enough you would appear next to him. He would sit there remembering the countless times you spent getting wasted and talking about stupid things.

“Don’t you think that there are enough cows in the world for them to coordinate a mass uprising against the meat industry?” You asked as you stared up at the star scattered sky.

JJ chuckled as he stared at you with absolute adoration.

“Babe, cows aren’t humans...they can’t coordinate a global rebellion,” he laughed, his eyes never leaving your face as you scrunched up your nose in protest.

“But they did it in Animal Farm,” you pouted, the alcohol had really clouded your logic.

“What the hell is Animal Farm?” JJ asked, still smiling at your passion for social justice.

“Oh, I forgot you don’t read,” you teased, turning your head to meet his gaze.

JJ rolled his eyes and began to tickle you in response causing you to erupt into fits of giggles.

“Why would I read when I have you to give me in depth summaries of every book in the world,” he smirked, continuing to tickle you.

Your laughter. It hurt him to even remember the sound, but every time he cracked a joke with the pogues he wished he could hear it again. He wished he could watch the way your dimples showed and your eyes crinkled as you burst into a fit of laugher. He wished he could watch the way one of his jokes sent you into hysterics to the point you were holding your stomach, to the point you were out of breath. But he also wished he could forget.

I thought about our last kiss, how it felt, the way you tasted.

Your last kiss. It was breathtaking. You’d spent the whole day out on the water  with the pogues, swimming, snorkelling, soaking up the sun. JJ remembered this day as one of the most epic days of pogue history; it was the last time you were all together as one, as one big happy family. He remembered the overwhelming feeling of pride he had as he watched you beat Pope in a shotgunning challenge.

“That’s my girl!” He yelled as you downed the beer and smashed the can down on the boat as Pope continued struggling with his.

You smiled and hopped on his lap, giving him a quick peck as you celebrated being the coolest girlfriend anyone could ever have.

You were his soulmate, or that’s what it felt like, for him at least.

He remembered walking you back to your house on The Cut that night, your fingers interlaced as your hands swung with your steps.

“Today was amazing,” you smiled, masking a sadness that JJ hadn’t noticed at the time.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” JJ smiled, tracing small patterns on your right cheek with his thumb.

You leaned into his touch, knowing it would be one of the last you experienced, but you didn’t want to spoil this perfect moment.

JJ leaned in, connecting his lips with yours in a soft yet passionate kiss. But you immediately grabbed him and brought him closer, increasing the intensity of the kiss knowing it might be your last. Your lips tasted like your strawberry flavoured lip balm, but with a slightly salty tang from the sea, and he loved it.

Your lips glided against each other in such harmony it was as if everything about the two of you was meant to be. Your fingers ran through his locks of blonde hair, tugging at the nape of his neck. He responded by hooking his fingers in the loops of your jean shorts and pulling you against him.

Eventually, you pushed yourself away from him gently and smiled.

“Goodnight, babe,” you smiled.

“I love you (Y/N),” JJ whispered into your hair as he pulled you in for a hug, not knowing that his words had almost made you cry into his shirt.

“I love you too, JJ Maybank,” you responded, knowing it would probably be the last time he believed you when you said it.

And even though your friends tell me you’re doing fine Are you somewhere feeling lonely even though he’s right beside you?

It had been a year; a whole year since you’d left. You’d come back to the Outer Banks a few times during the holidays to visit your parents, but you’d never once gone to see him. You had a new boyfriend. JJ had seen him a few times the one time you brought him home with you. He knew he was biased but he didn't like the look of him, he reminded him of Rafe Cameron and he couldn't comprehend why you’d done what you did just to end up with him.

JJ would watch you from afar, making awkward eye contact whenever you ran into him at The Wreck, but neither of you had the courage to say anything. It had been a year but JJ could still read your emotions from a mile away. You looked lonely, abandoned, lost. At least that was what he kept telling himself like a mantra to stop him from breaking down or punching something every time he saw you.

However, he would ask Kie how you were every time you left and she would be brutally honest and tell him you seemed like you were doing fine. And every time he heard those words it would break him a little bit more.

When he says those words that hurt you, do you read the ones I wrote you? Sometimes I start to wonder, was it just a lie? If what we had was real, how could you be fine? Cause I’m not fine at all.

JJ remembered the first time he heard him talk to you like that, like you were nothing. You’d accidentally spilt your drink on him at the Wreck and you’d started laughing about it as you would’ve with JJ.

“What the fuck!” He yelled.

“Babe, it’s just soda,” you giggled.

“Yeah and it’s gonna stain my new fucking shirt,” he growled, “god you’re so fucking clumsy.”

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes, but JJ knew that his words had more effect than you lead on.

JJ had stood up from his chair to go confront the asshole but John B grabbed him by his shirt and sat him back down.

“Don’t, JJ...” John B said sadly, knowing it hurt his best friend to see the girl he loved with someone else, but he knew that if he involved himself with you right now it would only hurt him more.

JJ would lay in his bed and wonder how it was possible that you could be so...normal, so okay, so fine. It made his heart ache as he realised what the two of you had must have been a complete and utter lie. There was no way you could just forget about what the two of you had unless it never meant anything to you in the first place.

He would go through periods of hating you, punching the walls in his room and screaming as he convinced himself you’d lied to him the whole time. His life at home hadn't got any better, but at least he could say his father’s punches didn't hurt anymore. The pain was nothing compared to the hole you’d left in his heart. He would take a thousand beatings if it meant he could have you back. But you were fine, and he was far from it.

I remember the day you told me you were leaving I remember the make-up running down your face And the dreams you left behind you didn’t need them Like every single wish we ever made

JJ would replay the moment you left over and over again, trying to fathom how you could have done such a thing to him, the person you claimed to love most.

JJ heard a knock at his door. His dad wasn’t home, but he could come back at any moment, so naturally he was concerned as to why anyone would come see him when he was the one trying to escape this household.

“(Y/N)?” JJ asked, confused as to why you were stood on his porch. “What are you doing here? You know it’s not safe.”

The concern that laced his voice made your heart break as you dreaded what was about to escape your mouth.

“We need to talk...” you replied sadly.

JJ’s heart rate went up. Those words never lead to anything good. He observed your facial expression but you were stoic, the only hint to how distraught you were being the faint dark circles under your eyes that showed you hadn't slept. And you hadn’t. Not a wink.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” JJ asked, the concern in his voice even more evident, except his concern had shifted from your safety to whatever you were about to tell him.

“I-I have to tell you something,” you confessed.

JJ ushered you into his room and sat you down on the edge of his bed, sitting down by your side.

“What is it? You can tell me anything,” JJ continued, being the loving boyfriend that he was.

He had no idea what was coming for him.

“I’m...I’m leaving, JJ,” you sighed, your voice shaking as you feared his response. He tended to lash out when his emotions got the best of him.

“Leaving? What do you mean? Like for a bit?” JJ spouted questions, hope still laced in his voice.

“No, JJ...for quite a while,” you said, the tears that you were holding back finally escaping.

JJ’s eyes widened, his hands balled up into fists.

“W-what?” He choked, tears of his own brimmed his eyes.

“I got this amazing opportunity to study in Europe,” you continued. “I know I’d planned on going to UNC Chapel Hill so I’d be closer to home but I applied for their semester abroad programme not thinking I’d actually get it.”

At this point you were speaking too fast for JJ to even comprehend what you were saying. In fact, he wouldn't have been able to even if you’d spoken slowly.

“A semester, that’s not long?” JJ asked, some hope resurfacing.

“I know and that’s why I applied for a semester but they said they can only offer me the year abroad programme...” you explained, crushing his remaining hope.

“And you’re taking it?” JJ asked angrily, the skin on his knuckles going white from how hard he was clenching his fists.

“J...I have to...you know it’s my dream to study in Paris,” you said, going to rest your hand on his.

He pulled away from your touch instantly, causing your heart to sink.

“How long have you known?” He asked, looking down at the floor.

“Not that lon-” you started before JJ stood up angrily.

“How goddamn long, (Y/N)!” He yelled, looking down at you.

“3 months,” you whispered, letting another tear fall down your cheek.

All you wanted in this moment was for JJ to wipe your tears gently and caress you, hold you, but he couldn't even look at you right now, let alone touch you.

“3 fucking months?!” He yelled, his rage consuming him and anger clouding his vision.

He immediately turned to his wall and punched it with all his force causing a deafening cracking noise.

“JJ your hand!” You exclaimed as you stood up, knowing that was the sound of a bone or two breaking.

“I don't give a shit about my hand right now, (Y/N)!” He turned around to face you.

His eyes had gone dark and his lip was trembling. You did this, and you hated yourself for it.

“How could you keep this from me for 3 months?” JJ’s voice cracked, his own tears finally escaping.

You went to wipe them but again, he flinched away from your touch.

“I wanted this summer to be great, epic even! And it was, JJ it was... like yesterday on the boat, that was one of the best days of my life! I didn’t want it to be ruined by the fact I was leaving,” you cried, your mascara starting to run down your face.

“But it was all a fucking lie, (Y/N)! You do realise that right?” JJ continued shouting, this time tugging at his hair angrily as he paced around his room. It broke you to see him like this but you were the only one to blame.

“Don’t say that J...that’s not true...”

“You don’t get to say that! You knew you were spending your last moments with us, with me. I didn’t!” He yelled, glaring at you. And for the first time ever he looked at you with what looked like resentment, hate.

“Did you just expect me to be fine with this, with you just dropping this on me out of the blue?” He continued.

“No, I didn’t,” you whispered, “but I didn’t want our last summer to have an expiration date on it you know...”

“That is so unbelievably selfish, (Y/N),” JJ stated, his words cutting like knives.

“You’re fucking SELFISH,” he continued, causing more tears to pour down your face.

“JJ please don’t say that...I did this for us, so you could remember us happily!” You sobbed.

“Well you did an excellent job at that, well done,” JJ laughed sarcastically, clapping his hands in a fake applause, “because this isn’t sad at all right?!”

“J-” you started, your whole body shaking at this point.

“No,” he said, “just get out.”

“What?” You whispered, looking at the boy you loved who couldn't even look you in the eyes for more than a second.

“I said get out,” he repeated.

“JJ please, I don’t want us to end like this!” You pleaded, your throat closing up feeling as though it was wrapped in barbed wire.

“I said GET OUT!” He yelled, tears streaming down his face, his voice coated in pain. He hated how he was acting towards you and he knew he’d regret it but he couldn’t look at you. He didn't want to hear your voice right now.

You nodded sadly, wiping your tears, your mascara now smeared on your face and coating your fingers.

“I love you...” you said gently.

You waited a moment to see if he would respond, but he remained silent, refusing to look at you. You sighed in defeat before walking out of his room and out of his life.

I wish that I could wake up with amnesia And forget about the stupid little things Like the way it felt to fall asleep next to you And the memories I never can escape

‘Cause I’m not fine at all

That day was scarred into JJ’s mind. There was nothing he regretted more than the way he had acted. He still didn’t understand why you’d hidden it, he would’ve been upset at first, but ultimately he would’ve cherished every day with you even more. But he knew you weren’t selfish, and he knew you didn't mean to hurt him. You were trying to protect him and your last moments together. He still thought you’d gone about it the wrong way and in some ways you did too, but what was done was done. He simply wished he’d had the self control to keep himself from saying the things he did, and to say the things he didn’t.

He never told you he loved you back. That was his biggest regret. He never said goodbye. That was his next regret. You’d left for Paris two weeks after you told him about your year abroad programme there. Two weeks. He could’ve spent every minute of those last two weeks with you, but instead he spent it alone, avoiding you at all costs. His pride stopping him from apologising and his pain stopping him from being around you at all.

It hurt him so much that you’d ended that way, and as much as he wanted to put the blame on you, he knew he played a part in it too. But it was too late to reverse the damage. All he longed for now was to forget. He’d spent a year hoping you would come back and hoping you could go back to being JJ and (Y/N), the power couple of the Outer Banks. But when you came back with him, he realised it was too little too late.

All there was left to do was erase you from his memory.

+

A/N: holy shit that made me SAD, amnesia is my cry song. FUCKSJF I'm sorry, but like at the same time I'm not cuz like I'm kinda proud of this

tagging some lovely people: @maybe-maybanks , @baby-bearie , @obx-sos , @drewtruly , @drewstarkey , @spilledtee , @thelocalpogue , @heliopvth , @jmaybank , @ruelstyles , @jjmaybanky , @jjmayibeyoursbanks , @jjmayspanks , @ceruleanjj

[ragingbookdragon]

You Can Take Off All My Clothes And Never See Me Naked PT. 7

A Haytham Kenway x Reader Story

Word Count: 1,600 Warnings: Explicit Language

Author’s Note: Fluff! Come get your fluff! Next chapter is the whammer my friends, ready yourselves...angst is coming. -Thorne

She stood beside him as they sailed across the North Atlantic. The waves crashed against the hull of the ship, and the smell of salt surrounded them. Her breath came in and out in puffs of white and she couldn’t help but pull the leather jacket tighter around her to preserve heat. She’d almost taken him up on that offer of using one of his fur lined coats. An amused chuckle sounded beside her.

           “If it’s too cold for you, lass, you’re more than welcome to go below deck.”

           She scowled and leaned on the railing. “I don’t like being under the deck.”

           “Why not?” his question held genuine curiosity.

           “I feel cramped and it gets too hot” Her lip turned up in disgust. “I don’t even like being on the wa—”

           A hand clamped over mouth and she froze, eyes narrowing into a dangerous glare as she looked at him; he frowned, condemning, “(Y/N). Don’t insult the ocean.”

           “I will bite the shit out of you.” She mumbled from behind his gloved hand and he pulled away.

           “I’m just trying to save you from angering the Lady of The Seas.”

           (Y/N) rolled her eyes. “The ocean is inanimate, Shay. It’s not alive.”

           “Says who?” he retorted with his hands propped on his hips like a child who’d been told off by their parent.

           “Says science and basic fucking weather patterns.” She countered, grabbing the wheel; she narrowly avoided an iceberg. “For the love of God, steer the ship. I don’t want to die now.”

           Shay snorted but took the wheel back. “Relax, (Y/N). We’re not gonna die.”

           “You say that,” she said, “But drowning isn’t the way I wanna go. I’ve heard it sucks.”

           “Only for a little bit.”

           (Y/N) looked over at him. “Holy shit, that was morbid, even by my standards.”

           “I wasn’t aware you had standards, lass.”

           Her eyes narrowed. “Alright, now you’re just being an asshole.”

           Shay snorted, but conceded, asking, “So if you hate being on the water, why are you out here?” She mumbled something and his brows furrowed. “What?”

           (Y/N) heaved a sigh and repeated a bit louder, “Haytham asked me.” A big smirk crossed his lips and she pointed at him. “Shut up. Shut the fuck up, I don’t wanna hear it.”

           Evidently, he wasn’t afraid of her because he leaned over and with a singsong tone, he said, “You’re in love~”

           She elbowed him in the ribs as hard as she could, smiling with satisfaction as he hacked and bent over.

           “That…wasn’t nice.” He gasped, halfway leaning on the wheel.

           “I have no sympathy to spare you.” (Y/N) remarked.

           Shay glared at her. “You’re not capable of sympathy, you witch.”

           She cackled. “Witch? That’s a new one.”

           “It suits you.”

           (Y/N) looked at him, elbow propped on the railing. “Gonna call a religious inquisition on me?”

           “Don’t tempt me,” he threatened, though it was heatless.

           “If I’m going down for blasphemy, Cormac, you are too.”

           They glowered at each other but after an upturned corner on their lips, they burst into howling laughter, leaning on one another as tears fell down their cheeks.

           When their laughter had finally subsided, Shay let out a loud sigh. “Aye, I haven’t laughed that hard in a while.”

           She nodded. “Neither have I.” Her lips graced an easy smile. “I think I needed it.”

           “Same here.” He gazed at her. “You’ve been unhappy for some time now, (Y/N).”

           She couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “Uh huh. And how do you figure that one?”

           He shrugged. “You looked like he was cracking your heart in two when he asked you to go while he stayed in New York to take care of business.”

           “There’s no fucking way I’m that easy to read. Even I know I keep my emotions hidden better than that.” (Y/N) griped.

           “Oh, you do,” he agreed. “But since the dinner, you’ve been rather open with us—him the most.” He met her eyes. “Like you’re finally okay with wearing your heart on your sleeve.”

           “Can I vomit yet? I feel like vomiting.”

           “Lass, that’s love.”

           “No, I really wanna vomit. Like right now.”

           “I dreamed my love came in my sleep~” (Y/N) pulled a face at the song. “Lowlands, lowlands awa—Urk!” he grunted as she elbowed him again.

           “Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” She hissed. “I’m not in love with him.”

           “You…are…God, what have you got in your sleeve?” He caught his breath, then demanded, “Fine, if that’s how you wanna be, tell me what you think about him.”

           “I—” she started then murmured, “I think he’s responsible…and brave…and a good boss who is way too nosey for my taste.”

           “Okay, now that you’ve got the basics out of the way, tell me what you really think about him.”

           Her eyes were narrowed into a glower, but with a heavy sigh, she admitted, “I think he’s handsome…and kind and—” unbeknownst to her, a smile had come across her face, “And he’s always there when I need him.” (Y/N) looked at Shay who wore a grin.

           “That’s love, lass.”

           Her face dropped. “Oh…” her eyes went wide. “Oh!” (Y/N) gaped at him. “Oh my god! I’m in love with Haytham.”

           Shay leaned on the wheel and gestured to her, murmuring, “I wish I had a portrait done of your face just now because nothing will ever bring me such sick enjoyment as that moment.”

           She shifted, walking away on numb legs. “Oh my god, I’m in love with him.”

           “Lass? You okay?” he worried.

           She waved a hand, continuing to mutter to herself and Gist passed her on the way to the quarterdeck. He stood beside Shay. “Is Miss (Y/N) alright?”

           Shay snorted. “Oh, she’s fine. She’s just coming to terms with reality.” Gist cocked an eyebrow, and he shook his head. “You’ll see when we get back to New York.”

***One Week Later, Back In New York***

           As soon as her boots hit the pier, she was tempted to kiss the ground and Shay could tell because he chuckled as he stood beside her. “Glad to be back?”

           (Y/N) didn’t have the energy to make a smart remark. “God, yes. I’m getting a hot meal when we get to the tavern and then I’m going to bed for forty-eight hours straight.”

           “You gonna give Haytham a goodnight kiss before you do?” he quipped.

           Evidently, she wasn’t that tired, immediately looping her arm around his neck to dig her knuckles into his scalp. He laughed but it quickly dissolved into a grunt of pain.

           “Ow! Ow lass that hurts! Quit!” Shay plead with her.

           “Nope! I suffered a week of your stupid jabs and now it’s payback time!”

           He yanked against her and they tumbled to the ground, but she was on him, trying to shove his face in the dirt. “Eat it! Eat the fucking dirt!”

           The crew leaned over the side of the ship, watching the two of them wrestle around, shouting out bets on both of them—(Y/N) was winning so far. Just as they were about to start throwing actual punches, someone cleared their throat above them, and they instantly froze, heads tilting to see Lee glowering down at them.

           “If you two are quite finished?”

           (Y/N) let Shay out of the headlock and rolled off him, clambering to her feet before helping him up. They brushed themselves off, feeling warmth on their cheeks and Lee sighed.

           “You’re both so childish. I can’t believe Master Kenway has such faith in you.”

           She glared at him and spat, “Say it to my face, you stupid motherfuck—”

           Shay cleared his throat rather loudly. “To speak for my colleague, what are you doing here?” (Y/N) knew Shay wasn’t that fond of Lee either.

           Lee continued to glare at them, but his tone turned snotty. “Master Kenway has asked me to come and collect the two of you.”

           “What for?” (Y/N) inquired, arms crossing over her chest.

           “To introduce you to a new associate who’s been providing quite a great deal of money to our cause.”

           “I wasn’t aware we needed monetary gains.” Shay muttered. “I thought we were all swimming in money.”

           (Y/N) elbowed him the ribs. “We are, you’re not.” She grinned. “You know, ‘cause you’re poor and—”

           He glared at her. “I got it.”

           She snorted, looking back to Lee. “So, who is it?”

           Lee raised his chin rather haughtily. “He’s an Italian businessman by the name of Ausilio Viviani.”

           Her arms went slack, falling by her sides and her breathing became uneven. Shay seemed to notice her immediate shift in demeanor.

           “Lass?” his voice was full of concern, but she couldn’t hear him.

           (Y/N) jerked forward and gripped the lapels of Lee’s jacket, ignoring his cry of shock. She yanked him to her until they were nose to nose. “What did you just say?”

           He shook his head and sputtered, “W-what are you talking about?”

           “His name!” she screeched. “Tell me his name again!”

           “It—it’s Ausilio Viviani.” He stammered and she shoved him away, not caring that he fell to the ground. Her blood went cold, and she broke into a dead sprint across the docks.

           “(Y/N)! Wait!” Shay called, but it was no use, she wasn’t stopping. He yanked Lee off the ground. “Come on!”

           They started after her, trying to keep her in their sights, but with the way she weaved in and out of people, they were losing her.

           “What’s wrong with her?!” Lee yelled.

           Shay watched her back, feeling panic surge in his veins. “I don’t know.”

[randomwordprompts]

If It's Magic | Chapter 11

Summary: Let's meet some new characters!

Taglist: @wakandan-flowerz @bakarilennox @yaachtynoboat711 @wakandas-vibranium @brwnsugababe @storibambino @thadelightfulone @reaperdeldrunk

A/N: I'm trying to get back into writing regularly, so feedback is always great.

The sounds of a big band playing old standards was the background music to the idle chatter that floated around the Manhattan ballroom. With various doctors, lawyers, and city officials scattered throughout, one might think that the Lector children stood out like a sore thumb. But, thanks to Hannibal's published studies being known globally they didn't get a second thought for being there in his place. All of that aside, the siblings were on a mission. Francois met up with their information source on the inside, who took them to meet the mark in question.

"Dr. Black, there are some people that would like to meet you."

Pausing the conversation with his wife, he turned to face the group with a smile that was so practiced it was believable if you didn't know any better. Jacob Black was a handsome man that had clearly aged well, his salt and pepper hair styled to perfection.

Dr., this is Francois, Jonathan, and Amira Lector. They’re here on the behalf of their father, Dr. Hannibal Lector?”

“Ah yes, Dr. Lector! I’ve read many of his studies and am a bit of a fan of his work. It’s nice to meet you three. I trust you’re enjoying yourselves?”

Francois spoke to the doctor of how happy they were to be attending in their father’s stead and the usual spiel of small talk that came about at events such as these. As everyone was talking and getting to know each other a bit more they were joined by another person. A young man who looked to be about the same age as Jonathan, slim and blonde with Jacob’s jawline and Mrs. Black’s eyes approached. He smiled at the small group before speaking.

“Hello mother, father. Who are your new friends?”

Before Jacob could introduce them Amira spoke up, her hand extended towards him with a warm smile.

“I’m Amira Lector and these are my siblings, Francois and Jonathan. We’re here on behalf of our father, Dr. Hannibal Lector. You must be Joseph, your parents were just talking about you.”

“All good things, I hope,” he replied as he took her hand and kissed the back of it.

She smirked coyly before going, “Anything bad you can prove wrong...or right.”

Jacob and his wife exchanged a knowing look behind their son’s back, recognizing the blatant flirting he was doing. Before Joseph could go any further Jacob decided to speak once more.

“Son, this is Amira’s first time here. Why don’t you show her around?”

“I’d be more than happy to if that’s what the lady would like.”

Amira stepped closer with their hands still connected.

“The lady would love to. Let’s start with a dance?”

Joseph’s brows rose at her forwardness but happily led her to the dance floor as the band began to play Frank Sinatra’s “Witchcraft”. He pulled her into his arms with ease and a smile that has probably charmed the panties off many of the daughters in that very room, but Amira found herself amused at how open his aura was. She knew he’d be easy to get info from once she got him to drop his “just a nice rich boy” act. With that in mind, she decided to take the direct approach.

“So, I think we’re far enough for your parents not to hear us. I go to the New School and heard there was this guy selling goods that looks a lot like you. What’s up with that?”

Joseph almost stumbled while they danced but caught himself before smiling at her forwardness.

“What’s up with what exactly, doll face? I have friends that go there, but I need to know what kind of goods you think I’m peddling.”

Amira leaned in so that their lips almost touched, her front pressed tightly against his before whispering, “I heard you have access to the best coke, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t give for a taste.”

Joseph audibly swallowed as her scent invaded his nose in the most delicious way, that combined with the softness of her body and voice casting a bit of a spell over him. His body immediately reacted and she noticed, subtly stroking her thigh along his crotch as they danced. Before he lost his mind she pulled away a bit, an innocent smile on her red lips as they continued to dance.

“When you put it that way, I think I just might have something for you. Meet me in the coat check in about 10 minutes and I’ll have something sweet just for you, beautiful.”

As the song ended they parted ways and she returned to her siblings to catch them up. She found them chatting up Dr. Black and some of his colleagues, the thought of how proud Hannibal would be to see his children rubbing elbows with these prestigious people brought a genuine smile to her face as she approached.

“Excuse me, sorry to interrupt you all,” she started before turning to her siblings, “I have some writing to finish for my psych class so I’m gonna grab a drink, freshen up a bit, and my siblings can escort me back to my dorm?”

Francois and Jonathan understood what she meant and let her know they’d have the car brought around. Amira left the group to meet up with Joseph while her siblings continued to converse for a bit longer.

Once at the door of the coat check room she gave two soft knocks to the door and was quickly greeted by the young man, who invited her in with that same charming smile.

"You know, I wouldn't have expected such a beauty to be into this stuff. But how much are you looking to buy?"

Amira shrugged, "We all have our vices, Mr. Black. But I think an eighth is enough to start. How much?"

"Only 100 for an eighth, but I've got other things as well. You ever tried heroin with the coke?"

"You mean speedballing? Heard of it, never tried it."

Joseph grinned with a devilish glint in his eyes, clearly having either tried it or seen its effects before.

"It's pretty damn good from what I've been told. Since I like you, I'll give you some heroin on top for an extra 50 just so you can try it out."

Amira hummed thoughtfully before reaching into her clutch and pulling out 200 dollars without batting an eye, Joseph holding a bag he kept stashed in the room in case he got any high-end "customers". He pulled out the pre-packaged and measured drugs, handing them to her as she handed him the money. She placed the drugs into her purse and thanked him before leaving the coat check room, looking around to make sure no one saw her. A vibration from her phone alerted her to a call from Jonathan.

“Hey, you good?”

“Yeah, I just got the candy. You brought the car around?”

“Yeah, me and Fran are in the car now. We’ll see you in a few.”

“Alright, on my way.”

With that, she slipped down the stairs towards the lobby as Joseph came out of the room behind her, heading back towards the party. Once Amira reached the lobby, she gave the doorman a smile and another to the driver that opened the door of the town car in which her siblings awaited her. As she got comfy and settled, the driver began to take them to their next destination.

“So what did you get?” Francois asked, lighting up a pipe filled with weed.

Amira pulled the drugs from her clutch and handed them to Jonathan, who inspected the packaging carefully.

“Coke and heroin? What the fuck did you do to get him to give you both?”

“He offered it for an extra 50 bucks and wanted me to try a speedball.”

Francois sat up, “What is a damn speedball?”

“It’s when you inject coke and heroin together. Very dangerous since they do the opposite shit to the body, but the high is said to be unreal.”

Jonathan shook his head after hearing her explain it, “Well, either way, he put what's gotta be his burner number on here so I think that part is for you, short stack.”

Amira pulled out her phone and put the number into it, saving it while reading some texts she missed while at the party. During this time they ended up back at the dorms as the car came to a stop. Jonathan sat back and slipped the drugs into his pocket before speaking again.

“Okay, so we’re gonna take these to the lab for some testing to see how pure it really is. We’ll get back to you in like a day or two with the results, you just see what other info you can get from Joey in the meantime.”

Amira nodded, “For sure, I’ll keep y’all updated if I learn anything. I’m sure he’ll be happy to get a call from me, given that he was imagining what was under my dress the whole night.”

“Of course he did, I made the dress.” Francois snorted.

After exchanging a bit more information and some goodnights, the three Lectors parted ways. Amira got out of the car and walked into her building, a smile spreading across her face as she spotted a familiar figure waiting for her in the lobby.

“I see you got my text,” she said.

“Of course, and looking at you now I’m so glad that I did. You look good enough to eat, Mira.”

Xavier walked up to her and looped an arm around her waist, pulling her close and pressing his lips to hers in a slow kiss. Amira slipped her arms over his shoulders and returned the kiss eagerly, pressing herself even tighter against him. When they finally broke the kiss she giggled seeing traces of her lipstick on his lips.

“You look pretty edible yourself, but I’m kinda tired tonight. Let’s go up to my dorm and just chill tonight?”

“I’d love that, mon petit. Want me to order some food from Night Owls while you change?”

Amira grinned, “You know me too well. Make sure you order some drinks too.”

“I know you well enough to know not to order food without drinks. Now let’s go so you can change before I try to wake your fine ass up.”

She snorted out a laugh before turning to lead him towards the elevator, looking forward to spending some time with the towering demon.