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bloodhoundluke · 1 year

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wake me up when september ends ✧ luke hemmings

description: it's been 12 years since your father passed away. when september comes around, you feel extremely sad about him no longer being there with you. luke, your boyfriend, tries to comfort you and be the best partner one can be in the situation.

pairing: gf!reader x luke hemmings

warnings: angst, grief, death, luke bein' an absolute fluffball (let me know if there's anything else).

word count: 1,1k.

a/:n: this is a songfic, inspired by wake me up when september ends by green day. i love this song to bits. this is a personal (and at times specific in terms of details i guess) one, so this is somewhat based on my own experiences of grief. also, this is written in the first person (i don't really know if i like it, but i figured that'd be the best option). if you spot any mistakes (e.g. grammar), please do let me know!

y/n = your name & y/n/n = your nickname

Summer has come and passed The innocent can never last Wake me up when September ends

/ /

Here comes the rain again Falling from the stars Drenched in my pain again Becoming who we are

/ /

As my memory rests But never forgets what I lost Wake me up when September ends

The first drops of rain crumbled down the living room window. Every year, when August slipped away in a heartbeat, and September came to replace it, I felt melancholic. Today, it's been twelve years of not seeing him. Twelve years since he fell asleep so quietly and delicately, to a sleep, which he'd never wake up from. The disease that stripped him away from me, was called lung cancer. "Keep your head up. You'll pass it, I know it". I told him about my upcoming exams at school at the age of 13. On his remaining breaths, midst of incredible physical and emotional pain, he still chose to support me. He chose to show love, sympathy, and kindness. And that's the legacy that's left of him. I wanted to continue that legacy, by showing everyone else the kindness and support he showed me, his one and only daughter. He was my biggest cheerleader, and the only one I ever really even needed. Or wanted. Hand-written notes, old photographs, and countless memories were all that is left of him. I keep them in a memory box under my bed. Every time I grieve him, I open that box and browse through everything that is in there. When I was a little girl, on some days, I dreamt of him walking me down the aisle. The two most important male figures in my life would shake their hands, and smile at each other gracefully. My father would shed a few tears, not even attempting to wipe them away. He hated crying in front of me - not because he didn't want to show any emotion, but because he didn't want me to worry. "You've got other stuff to worry about than me, your old pa, my petal".

For the past three years, Luke has shown me the same kindness for me that my father showed me. In that sense, they resembled each other.

I told Luke about my father when we had dated for briefly four months. It was a dark, rainy Friday night. We had a pasta night, which we usually did on Fridays when we were together. We took our turns preparing different kinds of pasta dishes, but after a few weeks, we got tired of preparing the meals alone. So we decided to cook together on our pasta Fridays. That Friday, we were eating shrimp pasta in Luke's living room. This time for the past two years, he has been extremely delicate with me. Patient and even more caring than usual. To the public, he seemed somewhat reserved, so this teddy bearish side of him at first surprised me. Last year, he went to pick up my favorite Italian take-out. He made a cozy fort full of blankets and pillows for us to lay on and watch silly tv shows. "We've got to be kids sometime, yeh?", he half-laughed, and closed me in a tight, warm embrace. "I love you so much, Y/N/N", he mumbled to my ear as we were cuddling, me being the little spoon (for once), under the numerous blankets.

And the year before, we did things my father loved in memory of him. For breakfast, we ate blueberry pancakes while listening to old rock songs. We played football for an hour or so, despite the fact Luke and I both were terrible at it. His lanky and clumsy legs and my terrible coordination skills were not that great of a combo. As the day turned to the evening, we went out to purchase fishing gear and went fishing. Luke got a few trouts, I didn't get any despite trying. At night, we read old comic books together in bed and drank black tea. He even played and sung one of my father's favorite songs, I Was Made for Lovin' You by KISS. "Lu, thank you for today, I really mean it". "Of course, anything for you, my love".

This year, the anniversary of my father's death landed on Friday. Secretly I wished that I didn't have to engage in our pasta Friday today. "What pasta do you want to eat today?", Luke put his arms around from behind. He rested his head on my left shoulder and kissed my cheek gently. "Don't really know, Lu. Got nothing in my mind", I said. "Alrighty, then. D'you want to skip pasta Friday?". "I dunno. Maybe. Yeah. If it's okay for you? I am not exactly in the mood to cook". "Of course, Y/N. Today's all about you. Whatever you need", he said as his light brownish beard stubble tickled the side of my face. "Hey, Lu, your beard is tickling, aaaahh". "D'you like it?", he giggled. "Not exactly", I laughed as he continued to rub his beard stubble on my face. "Mmmh, okay", he backed away and made his way to grab his phone from the kitchen counter. "I ordered some Italian take-out. Hope you don't mind", he smiled. "For me?" "Yes, you silly, for you", he closed me in a bear hug. "You're touchier than usual", I stated. "Is it okay that I am? The last thing I want for you is to be uncomfortable. I just want to make you feel extra loved today. It's a hard day, today, y'know. Wanna show you how much I care for you." "It's okay, Lu", I sighed, and it felt like a switch in my brain went off.

The tears came streaming down my face and I couldn't control myself. I don't really know why I am sobbing this uncontrollably. Is it the grief? Is it because I am grateful for Luke? Maybe it's both. Is it because I've got a million things on my mind? I should do the laundry, finish a few job tasks, and call my best friend. I am sure I even forgot something that's on my to-do list. "Mmh, cry it out, baby. It's okay, I promise", he caressed my hair as I sobbed against his hoodie-covered chest.

"This month feels like an ever-lasting reminder of him not being here, y'know?" "I understand. That's gotta be tough, my darling. But know he's proud of you. So, so, so proud. I would've loved to meet him, he sounded like an incredible person". "Mmmh, he was. He was amazing, the best person to exist, hands down", I mumbled as he caressed my hands with his thumbs in a circling motion, ever so gently.

"But, you're an amazing guy, too. Luke, thanks for being so understanding. I couldn't ask for a better boyfriend than you", I smiled to him, and he smiled back at me gently. His eyes closed for the briefest moment, and he looked me into my eyes. "I know I haven't been the best boyfriend, not always. But I love you with every fiber of my being, that's something I swear on", he got closer to my face and pecked my forehead, not once, but twice.

"I love you, Lu".

"I know, baby", he murmured, his eyes sparkling and voice full of softness. Then and there, I realized that getting to know and love Luke was undeniably the best part of my life.

ps. i don't even know what kind of things i'd do to hear Luke singing I Was Made for Lovin' You 🥺 and do i even know know to write something other than fluff lol?

#luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings fanfic #luke 5sos #luke hemmings fluff #luke hemmings angst #luke fanfiction #my writing #5sos fanfic #5sos imagine #luke x reader #luke hemmings x reader #luke hemmings x y/n #luke hemmings x you

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ejlovespie · 2 years

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Chapter 6

Author: EJ (@ejlovespie) / Fandom: The Vampire Diaries

Summary: Vampires are real and you made a deal with one. What will happen as new, dangerous feelings threaten to overwhelm you. How can Damon Salvatore irritate and then leave you breathless in such a short time? This is an ongoing series.

Need to catch up on previous chapters? Masterpost

Pairing: Damon Salvatore x fem!reader (Y/N Gilbert)

Tags/Warnings: 18+ / eventual smut / bossy Damon / conflicted-needy reader / smangst / slowburn / freinds to lovers / vampire biting

Word Count: 1680

A/N: Thank you to my lovely betas and cheerleaders: @downanddirtydean and @treat-winchesterswith-kindness. I appreciate you ladies so much. Also, thank you @firefly-graphics for this gorgeous divider.

Opening your eyes slowly, you blinked against the light streaming in through your bedroom window. Groaning, you turned onto your side and shut your eyes against the brightness before the sound of moving paper had them flying back open. Blinking, you stared up at Damon who was lounging in the chair by your bed, reading.

Voice thick with sleep you groaned out,

“It’s so early..What are you doing here?”

Focused on his book, Damon licked his pointer finger and turned another page, humming to himself. You stared at him for a solid thirty seconds as he ignored your question and continued reading.

“Seriously, Dam-”

You narrowed your eyes at him as his finger came up to his lips and he made a shushing gesture at you. Biting your tongue, you huffed in frustration and waited. After another long pause, the stubborn man finally closed his book and acknowledged you.

"Good morning, sunshine."

Gearing up to snap at him, you stopped when the paperback in his hand caught your eye. Bewildered, you asked,

“..You’re reading my book?”

Tucking the worn copy into a pocket inside of his leather jacket, Damon smirked and leaned forward.

“You know, you reveal a lot about yourself in your writing.”

Yeah right...

“And what do you think you’ve discovered about me in a few hundred pages?”

Damon smirked at you as he smugly responded,

“Actually, I’ve read all your books, and in the thousands of words you have written and published, I’ve come to see that you really like the bad guy.”

Saying nothing, your mouth went dry as he spoke; thoughts racing as you processed his words. Had he really taken the time to read all of your books? Where was he going with this? Damon’s voice lowered a fraction as he continued his explanation.

“You’re fascinated by darkness..by depravity. As a matter of fact, I think a part of you, deep down, likes it. That’s why, I know we're inevitable.”

Heart beating faster, you swallowed down the sudden lump in your throat. Shaking your head slightly, you argued.

“No, Damon..I write fiction. My characters are dark because it makes for a good story. It’s part of the genre. That’s all.”

Damon rolled his eyes dramatically at you and pushed on.

“We both know that’s not true. You made a deal with a vampire to feed on you. Remember?”

Looking away from him, a blush warmed your cheeks as the memories came flooding back. How could you forget? Unaware of your actions, you had begun to rub at the bite mark on your wrist.

"Speaking of that deal, how often do you need to..um..feed?"

Smirking at you, Damon leaned forward in the chair. Placing his elbows on his knees, he moved his fingers to rest under his chin as he explained.

"Weeellll, in order for a vampire to walk and talk, they only need a little blood, every so often. However, if they want to dance, or possess any real strength, they need to feed on a regular basis. Personally, I prefer once a day but every few days is adequate."

Listening intently, you nodded in understanding as he explained.

"So it's been two days..do you need to again?..like now?"

Damon gave you a long intense look before he stood from the chair. Staring down into your eyes, his voice went dark and gravelly as he said,

"No. Not now...Today, I'm taking you out. So, get dressed and be sure to wear something sexy."

Sitting up in bed, you began to make excuses as Damon strolled to your closet. Opening it, he began rummaging through its contents, inspecting your clothes.

"I have work, Damon..chapter deadlines. I can't go out. Besides, it's like 6 AM, no one dresses sexy this early in the morning."

Humming to himself, he ignored you as he flicked through all your t-shirts and jeans. Finally reaching the end of the row, he found the one dress you owned and pulled the hanger off the rack. Looking it over for a few seconds he nodded before raising his dark eyebrows at you. Smirking, he threw the dress onto your bed before turning back to your closet to go through your shoes. Frustrated, you threw your sheets aside and finally swung your feet over the side of the mattress. Standing up, you marched to your bathroom door, intent on fulfilling your plans for the day. Almost to the door, your path was suddenly blocked as you walked directly into Damon’s chest. Putting your hands up, you gave him the stink eye as he steadied you from falling.

Y/N, for once, just forget about your deadlines and responsibilities and live a little. I promise you won’t regret spending the day with me.”

Your eyes went from his serious face to his hand resting on your arm. Goosebumps pebbled on your skin as Damon’s thumb brushed against you, slowly. His small touch and close proximity had you subconsciously leaning into him. As your hands reached out to touch his chest and you looked back up into his eyes, your heart began to beat rapidly again. Damon watched you intently, as his other hand came up to brush a loose strand of hair out of your face. Distantly, you wondered if he could hear the erratic beat of your heart. Suddenly, Elena’s words from last night popped into your head.

He's dangerous. Don’t think for a second he won’t use you and then break your heart.

Like a bucket of cold water had been thrown on you, you took a step back, breaking the connection. With a heavy sigh from Damon, you refused to look at him as you mumbled an “excuse me” before stepping around his tall frame. Locking yourself into the bathroom, you leaned your back against the wooden door and took several deep breaths. You needed to remember the promise you made to your parents. Elena and her safety had to come first. Damon was simply a distraction. Allowing yourself one more deep breath, you pushed off the door, before rushing through your normal morning routine.

Ten minutes later and finished with a hot shower, you wrapped yourself up in a towel before opening the door again. Finding the room empty, a sigh of relief escaped your lips as you walked over to your closet. Feeling stubborn and a bit spiteful, you pulled out a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Placing your chosen outfit on the bed, you stripped out of your wet towel and began to dress until your eyes spotted the dress Damon had picked out. Walking over to it, you picked up the hanger and brushed a hand over the fabric. It was a simple garment, nothing flashy or expensive. Stopping at just above the knees, the dress was solid black with a sweetheart neckline and spaghetti straps. Damon’s words repeated in your mind as you stared at the dress you had yet to wear.

Y/N, for once, just forget about your deadlines and responsibilities and live a little.

Live a little…A part of you, the curious, romantic part, wanted to listen.

Deciding a dress couldn’t hurt anything, you pulled the straps off the hanger and unzipped it before carefully slipping it on. Pulling the tag off, you zipped yourself in. Grabbing the clothes you had picked out, you placed them back on the rack before pulling out your favorite leather jacket and a pair of heeled boots from your closet. Slipping them on, you took another ten minutes to do your hair and makeup in the bathroom before finally making your way downstairs.

Descending the staircase, you found Damon standing at the bottom, head down as he scrolled through his phone. Hearing your approach, he turned his head to look up at you.. You noticed the way his blue eyes widened before narrowing to take you in. Heart beating fast, you couldn’t help the smile that formed on your lips as Damon’s eyes traveled up and down your body several times. Shoving the forgotten phone into his back pocket, he didn’t look away from you as you finished your descent. Now, standing in front of him, your teeth caught your bottom lip in an old nervous habit. Magnetic blue eyes, rimmed with dark, full lashes, zeroed in on your mouth. A barely audible hiss escaped Damon’s plush lips as he stepped closer to you. Looking up at him, your heartbeat pounded loudly in your ears as you realized how close you were standing. Close enough to touch. Close enough to kiss.

The way Damon looked at you was making your knees feel weak and your head feel lightheaded. Was he going to kiss you? The look on his face was dark and hungry, almost depraved. The word popped into your head, unbidden, as you stared up into his timoltuos eyes. Overwhelmed by the charged heat between your bodies, you knew deep down that everything Damon had said earlier had been true. You were inevitable. In that moment you knew it to be true. Just like how you knew escaping him was pointless. He had you hooked and like a fish out of water, you felt unable to breathe as he leaned in closer to you. Bringing his hand to your face, his fingers caressed your cheek. It took every ounce of control you possessed not to lean into his touch. Wordlessly, Damon softly brushed his thumb against your lip, now free from your teeth.

When he finally spoke, his breathing was short and labored, almost pained, “Sexy doesn’t begin to describe the way you look right now, Y/N. I want to throw away all of my plans for today to throw you onto my shoulder and carry you back upstairs to bed.”

Heat filled your lower belly and left you aching as Damon growled his praise, lips a breath away from kissing you. Shaking his head, and taking a small step back, he grimaced slightly and reached for your hand. “Let’s go, pretty girl. I’m driving.”

To Be Continued…

*Chapter 7 posts on Monday the 10th at 6AM (MST)*

Tags: @flamencodiva @tragerlover @enchantedblackrose@wanniiieeee @defenderrosetyler @wondercole @Deansgirl93@uvedoneitagainqueen @knowledgefulbutterfly @valkyrieidunn @Grippleback-galaxy @bewitchedbymadness@mrsdarcyinlovewithbuckybarnes @gia-25 @haroldpotterson @flamencodiva @flamencodiva-reblogs @tragerlover@enchantedblackrose @wanniiieeee @defenderrosetyler@wondercole @uvedoneitagainqueen @knowledgefulbutterfly @valkyrieidunn @stefans-wife @lxllystuff @briannareneea985 @butifulsoul125 @megs-mind-stuff @deangirl93 @haroldpotterson @uvedoneitagainqueen@Grippleback-galaxy @bewitchedbymadness @mrsdarcyinlovewithbuckybarnes @gia-25

Want to be tagged in this series? Send me a message or shoot me an ask!

#the vampire diaries #his salvation series #damon salvatore #damon salvatore x reader #damon salvatore smut

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wondersofdreaming · 3 years

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Keepsake

Characters: Captain Syverson x female reader (3rd person)

Word count: 1.827

Warnings: Death, loss, hopelessness, light cursing, sadness, melancholy, grief, heartache, mourning.

Author’s note: This story was inspired by the song 'Everglow' by Coldplay.

Do me a favour and listen to the song, while reading this, I'll link to the different versions, depending on your mood.

Everglow (original) by Coldplay

Everglow (acoustic) by Coldplay

Everglow (instrumental) by Alexandre Pachabezian

The links are for Spotify, if they don't work try this link for YouTube

I do not own any characters in this short story, except the wife, son and Elijah Reed, who are figments of my imagination.

A massive, MASSIVE, thank you to my beloved angel, @radaofrivia, for giving me the idea from just a few thoughts, for sitting through with me while I wrote this, for giving me advice and for just being there.

Please check out her stories right here: RADA'S MASTERLIST

MY MASTERLIST

Feedback is appreciated.

(Young Syverson, picture credit to @killjoy-assbutt-1112 - find it here)

Oh, they say people come Say people go This particular diamond was extra special And though you might be gone And the world may not know Still I see you, celestial

Lyrics are from Everglow by Coldplay.

The looming grey clouds were moving closer towards him. He could hear the distant sounds of the rumbling thunder. Before long it started to rain and lightning lit up the entire house. The dirt road was flooded in no time, giving the crops the liquid nourishment they needed.

The former army captain was restless. It was on days like these he missed him, more than anything else in the world. He couldn’t sit still and had planned on working on the house, but the coming storm was putting a stop to that. Instead, he sat on the porch swing he built with Elijah when Lucas bought the house.

The Syversons had moved to their farm when Lucas was 4. A few days into the move, their neighbours had stopped by with some casserole, and to welcome them to their community. Mr and Mrs Reed also had a son who was a few months younger than Luc. Elijah had hidden behind his mother’s leg, a little shy, but with some encouragement he greeted Lucas.

“I’m Lucas, but my baby sister can’t say it yet, she keeps babbling Luc, so if it’s easier, you can call me Luc too.”

“I’m Elijah.”

Sy remembered he was trying so hard to pronounce his new friend’s name. He smiled at the memory, the name had been permanent in Lucas’ mind, only using Elijah, when he was mad at him or thinking he was about to do something stupid, which he did often.

“Lija, wanna play?” Lucas asked awkwardly.

“What?” Elijah looked profoundly confused. “I… don’t know.”

“Go on, son. It’s okay,” Mr Reed tried to encourage him.

“Come with me, Lija. I wanna show ya somethin’.”

Lucas had shown Elijah his new toy tractor that his parents had given him for his birthday. The two young boys had played together, and before long were inseparable.

A round yellow object in the palm of his hand. He was fiddling with it. The coin was always in his pocket, so he could keep his best friend close to him at all times. It was an old arcade coin that you could plot into any machine and play one game.

The two best friends had each gotten a dollar’s worth of coins, but the man at the ticket booth had miscounted, so Sy had gotten an extra coin, which the two friends had fought over during their time in the arcade. Lucas being the protector he was, lost to Elijah on purpose, so his friend won the coin.

“I’ll savour it, it’s going to be my lucky coin!” Elijah has announced.

Syverson swung the porch swing with his booted foot. He stared at the coin, wondering why he had been the lucky one. Luc shook his head faintly, his face full of pain and sorrow.

The coin became a thing that decided their fate. When the boys couldn’t agree on something, they would flip the coin. The picture side was heads and the text ‘No cash value’ side was tails. It might have been worth nothing, but it was a priceless item to the two friends.

“Heads: I ask her on a date, tails: you ask her,” Elijah flipped the yellow coin and covered the back of his hand as it landed. The two teenagers looked over at the brunette cheerleader, who was laughing with her friends. Prom was upon them and they both wanted to ask her. Elijah lifted his hand, it was heads.

The dumb coin was always on Elijah’s side. Lucas let out a soft laughter of the memory. Elijah’s face had been priceless, Sy wished he had taken a picture of it. It had been Elijah’s first kiss that night.

When Lucas decided to enlist, Elijah followed him, even with a lot of arguing against it from Sy’s side. He didn’t want his best friend anywhere near a warzone but in the end, he was glad that Lija was there with him through every hardship during training, when they lost people on their team, when they had to carry the dead back to base, it was better to have a friend by your side and share the pain with.

It didn’t take Syverson long to rank up and become captain. He ended up leading a large group of soldiers in a village in Iraq, with Elijah as his lieutenant, he felt like he could conquer the world.

During one of their trips home, Sy had bought a house he wanted to renovate, maybe start a family in. Elijah had spent every moment he could, helping Lucas with the house. It had made them closer as friends, and they had heartfelt talks about their future. Elijah wanted to come home and help his ailing parents with the farm, maybe get into breeding horses, preferably racehorses. Sy hadn’t thought of his future in that sense by then. He just wanted to relax, drink beer and ride his motorcycle.

There was hardly a moment in Lucas’ life where Elijah wasn’t a part of it. Elijah was his best friend, and if he had to be a little girly, they were BFFs. His best friend’s presence had made every moment special, made them better. It was the hardest part, to not have Elijah by his side anymore. He missed Elijah’s silly, huge and sometimes irritating grin, which somehow made the world seem a bit brighter during the dark times. Elijah made his life easier… he just made it better to have a friend to share everything with.

His heart had broken in a million pieces when the building collapsed on top of his best mate.

“Captain, we need a scouting team. I’m taking three soldiers towards those buildings and see if there are enemies up ahead,” Elijah had suggested.

“Lieutenant, I make the orders here. I’m going,” Lucas commanded.

“Heads or tails, Luc,” Elijah picked out the coin from his breast pocket.

“This is no time for such thing, Lija,” the captain grumbled.

“This is the perfect time, Luc. We promised that whenever we couldn’t agree on something, we would use the coin. So, heads or tails, captain Syverson.”

“Heads.”

The coin had landed on the tails side. Lucas had cursed the coin, fuck, shit, crap, dammit!

“It’s my turn to protect you, Luc. I’m not the scrawny little kid anymore, let me show you!”

Elijah had gathered three soldiers and run between two concrete buildings with a big smile on his face. Sy would never forget the smile. It was a grin of pride and determination. And it was the last time Lucas would ever see his best friend.

Moments later a huge explosion shook the ground they were standing on. Sy watched with horror as the buildings collapsed, trapping Elijah and his team. What they didn’t know then was that the impact with the concrete walls had killed him instantly.

The rest of the soldiers watched as their captain went on his knees. Utter despair and anguish plastered on his face, tears about to escape the corners of his eyes. The usual strict army captain, the man with the muscles, the tough guy who could break you with a stare, was breaking down.

“Lija…” he whispered into the dust-filled space, his voice breathless like somebody knocked the air out of his lungs.

At night he had screamed in pain of the loss of his most beloved friend. His days were filled with hopelessness as he prepared to fly home with Elijah’s corpse in a coffin. The nights only brought nightmares, so he started writing a letter to his best friend and thinking of how to tell Elijah’s parents.

“Dear Lija. I can’t believe you’re… Shit, I can’t even write the word. Just a four-letter word, and yet I can’t fucking write it down on a piece of paper. I wish I could have taken your place, man. It should have been me. I hate you for forcing me to pick a side on that stupid coin. I hate you for being so brave. I hate you for wanting to protect me. Fuck you for dying. Fuck you for leaving me. Here. All alone. What about your parents? How am I going to tell them that you’re… how am I going to face them? You are and will always be my best friend. I wish you could go back to your parent’s farm on your own two legs, not in a fucking box. I miss you, Lija. You’re the closest thing to a brother I will ever get. So rest in peace and keep the seat next to you warm, I’ll see you on the other side. - Luc.”

Lucas had sneaked the letter into Elijah’s breast pocket of his uniform before they had shut the coffin. The coin that Elijah had on him, had been put in a plastic bag with the rest of his belongings, prepped to be given to his next of kin, his parents. But Lucas took the yellow token. He needed a memento to remember his best friend by, something that he could keep with him always. A keepsake.

It had taken every ounce of courage for Lucas to step up to the front door of the Reed’s farmhouse. A house he was so familiar with and had so many adventurous sleepovers in Elijah’s space-themed bedroom. He could smell Mrs Reed’s famous peanut brittle, making it harder for him to knock, but he did it anyway. Standing there in his military uniform, he told the two people, who had acted as a second set of parents to him, that their only son had died heroically in battle. Lucas stood frozen, watching them mourn the loss of their son. He was about to step away to give them space, but Mrs Reed grabbed his wrist and brought him into the hug.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect him,” he pleaded, his voice breaking slightly.

“Was he in pain?” Mrs Reed asked, breaking Lucas’ heart all over again.

“No, ma’am. It happened really fast.”

Sy fiddled with the arcade coin. Having zoned out the thunder, not noticing the storm had come and gone. The sun was slowly setting on the horizon. It was a peaceful ending to an emotional day.

A loud wailing came from inside the house. The front door opened and out came his beautiful wife with their young son in her arms. His face was stained in tears. The tiny boy reached towards his father the minute he saw him. In his father’s arms was the only place the boy was happy and content. Sy’s face broke into a happy grin at the sight of his son. His tiny fingers trying to grab the coin in the former captain’s hand.

“This,” Sy showed it to his son, “will be yours when you’re old enough not to eat it.”

He chuckled at the frustrated look on the boy’s face. Sy kissed the top of his son’s head.

“I love you, Elijah.”

#Henry Cavill #This man #I need a drink #Captain Syverson #Henry Cavill x female reader #Henry Cavill x reader #Henry x female reader #Henry x reader #My story #Keepsake #Everglow #Fanfiction #henrycavillfanfic

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llemonteaa · 3 years

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Your daily dose of angst

No one deserves to be second best. That’s something you learnt the hard way.

Pairings: Oikawa x f!reader & Iwaizumi x f!reader

WC: 1,769

Warnings: swearing, angst (with a little dose of fluff at the end :)

You always wondered, even to this day, why Oikawa had chosen you in the first place. When asked what his ideal type was, Oikawa would laugh and say, “Someone who makes me look greater than I already am of course,” Cue Iwaizumi smacking him in the head.

“Mean Iwa-Chan! Fine, my ideal type would preferably be someone with fair hair, an adorable smile and a lovely ass to rest my head on. Oh, and she must also love milkbread.”

None of those boxes would be ticked for you unfortunately. Your hair was jet black and curtained part of your face, which only added to your supposedly mean aura. Your resting face was somewhat frightening and your smile could be described as Kageyama’s Cheshire Cat grin. Not to mention your ass was almost as non existent as Oikawa’s (oops), and you much preferred pork buns to milkbread.

Yet despite that, Oikawa had asked you out one humid Friday afternoon, exactly 7 months ago today. But you realised, maybe a bit too late, that a lot can happen in 7 months.

Oikawa of course, was infamous for having fangirls practically glued to his hip wherever he went. And dating you didn’t change that in the slightest. In fact, his fangirls, especially one in particular, seemed to go up and above their way to spend time with your boyfriend, even when you were inevitably stood by his side.

“As I was saying-” you began.

“Oikawa! I was just hoping to bump into you!” someone swatted you aside, your vision now platinum curls.

Reni. She practically threw herself onto Oikawa, bending over slightly so that he’s have a clear view of the lace panties underneath her unbelieveably short skirt.

“Oh hey Reni. What’s up?” Your boyfriend turned to face who you called his number one, entirely devoted, fangirl.

“So, about our History project, would it be too much trouble to ask for some help? I’ve been racking my brains trying to figure it all out, even sacrificing much required beauty sleep, but I’m still yet to make any progress. And seeing how you are quite the History whizz...”

“Of course Reni, you’re the first person who’s complimented me on my brains. When would you like to meet up?” It was almost a joke how YOUR boyfriend seemed to be spending more time with a girl who had nothing but the audacity, than his s/o herself. And History whizz your ass, everyone including Iwaizumi, who had overheard that particular part of the conversation as he passed and scoffed, knew that it would be a miracle if the teacher graded him on History at all.

“If you could, now would be a great time.” Reni fluttered her eyelashes which reminded you of rather hairy caterpillars.

“Well I’m not doing anything as of now, apart from talking to y/n, but I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. Right y/n?” Both pairs of eyes seemed to acknowledge you for the first time. You, the girlfriend, but at the same time you the thirdwheel, apparently.

“Well in fact I do mind but...” you hadn’t even managed to get out before Reni used her large boobs to push you out of the way.

“You see Oikawa, y/n doesn’t mind at all. So come on now, my books are in my dorm.”

And with that, she grabbed your boyfriend’s arm and dragged him down the hall in the direction of the girl’s dorms, Oikawa throwing a sheepish glance over his shoulder.

“We’ll resume our conversation in a bit y/n~”

Yeah right. You’d probably forget what you were even talking to him about by the time he came back from the spawn of Satan’s hellhole.

In the weeks that followed, you found every minute of your time alone with Oikawa accompanied by Reni. No matter where or what you were doing with your boyfriend, she always seemed to find an excuse to but it. And Oikawa was nevertheless, just as oblivious to Reni’s attempts to jump in his pants as he was to your blatant annoyance.

“But y/n you have to understand. Reni hurt her ankle yesterday during her cheerleading practise and being the kind friend I am, I had to help her make her way around school.” Your boyfriend attempted to reason with you, after you had pulled him behind the school gym where he was moments from entering. This was partially because you had desperately needed to confront him about how much time he seemed to be unnecessarily spending with Reni and also in an attempt to prevent the devil herself from seeking you guys, Oikawa specifically, out.

“No, I don’t have to understand. Reni dropped the sprained ankle act the moment she thought my back was turned. God you can be so blind sometimes.” You rubbed your eyes tiredly.

“y/n, now you’re just being unreasonable. You know I only ever spend time with Reni when she’s in need of my help. I’m simply doing what any decent friend would do.”

“Except she needs your help all the goddamn time. You could ask anyone, anyone, and they’ll tell you how Reni’s been crushing on you since way before we got together.”

“Yes, I know that, but she’s stopped liking me since I asked you out. y/n what’s so hard for you to understand?”

“Everything Oikawa, everything is so hard to understand. And yet I think you’re the one who doesn’t understand the most. Reni doesn’t ever need your help, she just wants it. And she wants it to the point where she’s willing to make up any crappy excuse to get alone with you. I’m starting to think you guys are the ones dating and I’m just the ‘friend’.”

“y/n you know that’s not true...”

“Do I know that? Do I? Because if I did, then I wouldn’t constantly need to be fighting for your attention knowing it’s always going to be a losing battle. Your there for Reni more than you’re there for me, and we’re the ones in a relationship. I’m not stopping you from seeing Reni because that would just be wrong on my behalf, but at least put some effort in Oikawa.”

“Put some effort in? Oh you must be fucking kidding me. You should be grateful I even asked you out in the first place instead of telling me to put some effort in. The difference between you and Reni is that she’s not a jealous and clingy bitch who can’t even handle her own partner from seeing his friends without kicking up a fight. I could easily dump you anyday y/n and yet I haven’t, so how about you put some effort in and stop being so fucking controlling.”

It seemed as if everything came to a standstill the moment those venomous words left his mouth. It made your eyes water and your heart clench, every syllable of ‘jealous’, every syllable of ‘controlling’, stabbed your heart to the point you wondered if you’d ever be able to piece it back together.

Yet through the darkness a tiny flicker of light fought its way through. And that tiny flicker of light is what reminded you that not a single bit of this stupid argument was your fault. Blinking a few times, you forced yourself to bite back your tears that threatened to tumble, before clenching your fists to the point your knuckles turned white, and glowered up at your soon to be ex boyfriend.

“I lowered my fucking standards for you Tooru. Lowered my fucking standards to be with someone who only sees me as second best. Who’d rather let some bitch with a skirt shorter than your hindsight to drag you around like a doll with no brains. All this time I could’ve been with someone who wouldn’t let their ‘friend’ control every minute of their life and completely disregard the fact that they were taken. Well lucky for you Tooru, Reni’s all yours now. She’s won, that bitch with the cockroach eyelashes has won. So now you can get the fuck out of my way because we’re over.”

And with that you shoved your way past your ex, stuffing your hands into the pockets of your blazer, your hair framing your face now slick with fresh tears.

It was his loss after all. His loss that he wasn’t able to decipher friendliness from flirtiness. Or maybe he didn’t want to. Maybe Oikawa knew ignoring his relationship status to spend time with someone who was quite blatantly ready to jump into his pants at any given opportunity was wrong. Maybe Oikawa knew he’d have you forever, he’d have you to come back to when everyone else left him for the same reason his last girlfriend did. Except this time he was wrong. He didn’t have you forever. And it was all his fault.

Deep down he knew you had every right to shove past him, he knew you had every right to be furious with him, yet admitting that would’ve been the last thing he’d do. So instead Oikawa just scoffed before heading in the opposite direction that you had disappeared in, and into the gym. Completely oblivious to the fact that his best friend had just heard the entire event go down.

2 months later

You giggled as you let your boyfriend Iwaizumi drag you along the school halls. Similar to how you used to watch her do to him. Except in this point in time, you could honestly care less about_ them._ Now you had found yourself a perfect boyfriend who saw you as nothing but the best. He’d see through any girl’s lame attempts to buy themselves alone time with him and would certainly cherish every moment spent together. Hajime knew just how easy it was to let someone slip through your fingers when you took advantage of them just being there, after seeing the exact situation enravel in front of his best friend only a couple months ago.

“Babe are you even listening to me?”

God was her voice annoying.

“Babe.”

Oikawa sighed before finally glancing down at the girl who spent every second possible hanging off him like the school tie he wore.

“Hm Reni.” He zoned out the moment she began rambling on about God knows what. Probably something to do with how he seemed to have gained more fangirls or whatever. But he didn’t care. The only thing he cared about was you. You, who was currently skipping along with his best friend, happier than you’d ever been with him. You who was never like this. Never like Reni who was jealous, clingy and so fucking controlling.

Oh.

a/n: We all know that both Oikawa and Iwaizumi would be the best boyfriends ever despite Oikawa being a piece of shit in this.😌

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deanandthephantoms · 3 years

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Perfect Harmony Pt.1 - Reader x Charlie

Soo.. This is my first attempt at writing a story. This story is, in a very short summary gonna be about how the reader and Charlie Gillespie met, became best friends, drifted apart, and found each other again. Thank you @happinessinthedarkesttimes for giving me the idea to write this. I hope you’ll enjoy! This is chapter one of.. who knows how many, it might become a long one. Oh and all feedback is welcome :). You can read chapter 2 here and chapter 3 here !

Start of something new

When Y/N was 16 years old her mom thought it was a good idea to send her to a summer camp for teenagers to young adults. Now that may sounds like a fun thing, but Y/N was always very shy and very insecure at first, I guess that’s what 10 long years of being bullied on the regular does to a person.. As you can imagine going out and meeting a insanely large group of new people was a pretty terrifying thing to her. So when she was on her way in a bus to the summer camp surrounded by other camp-goers she was in full panic mode thinking things like; WHAT AM I DOING? I DON’T WANT TO GO! WHAT IF THEY’RE ALL GONNA BE MEAN TO ME?! there however was no turning back now.. Luckily it was only a week, she would survive.. Right?

When the bus arrived at her home for the coming week y/n was overwhelmed by the amount of people that were already there. Luckily a camp staff member came up to her soon enough and told her she was placed into a smaller group with 8 other people from around her age. Still scary but focusing on meeting 8 new people sure was a lot less scary than having to meet at least 100 people all at once. The counselor also showed Y/N where her room for the week was.

When Y/N stepped into her bedroom for the week she saw 3 pairs of eyes looking at her. One of the girls jumped up from her bed and said; “Hey! I don’t think we’ve met yet? I’m Madison! That’s Savannah” she said while pointing towards the blonde girl sitting on one of the beds, Savannah gave you a smile and a small wave. “And that’s Jadah” she said while gesturing towards the girl making her bed. “hi!” Jadah said with a big smile. I took Madison’s held out hand and shook it. “Hey nice to meet you all.” You smiled shyly. “You’re right it’s my first time here so I haven’t really met anyone yet.. My name is Y/N by the way.” “ Nice to meet you too Y/N!”Madison said. “So since you’re sleeping in our room I bet that means you’re also in our group, right?” “Oh.. eh.. I’m not sure..?” “I replied. Is that usually how this works? Have you 3 been here before?” I asked while claiming my bed for the week. “Yeah!” They all said at the same time, sounding very excited. This time it was Savannah who continued to speak; “I’ve been coming here every summer since I was 13. That was also the year I met Madison and Jadah and the rest of our group, who you will meet soon enough. We actually have become really close friends over the years so we keep coming back here to see each other. You’re gonna love our group!” I smiled at her excitement. “I sure hope so.” “So.. Jadah began, how did you end up coming here?” “Honestly? I said, my mom thought it would be a brilliant idea to send me here, to meet some new people..” “You don’t sound very excited about it”Jadah noticed. “You picked up on that huh? You’re right..” I quickly explained to the girls that I’m very shy and insecure at first which makes meeting new people a hard and scary thing. They all nodded understandingly. “Hey, Madison said, we got you okay? no need to feel scared or anything.” The 3 girls smiled at me and for some reason I felt they meant it. “Thank you I said, that really does mean a lot. So.. while we’re on the topic of meeting new people, when will we be meeting the rest of our group?” I asked nervously. “In 30 minutes or so Madison replied, our first group activity starts at 3pm”. “Group activity?” I asked with a nervous look on my face. Savannah laughed,”don’t worry they call it a activity but it’s basically just some time to meet everyone in your group and the leaders of your group.” “oh, that doesn’t sound tooo bad” I replied, still feeling very nervous but at least I had those 3 girls who genuinely seemed nice.

3pm came sooner than I wanted and before I knew it Jadah was dragging me along to my first group activity. When we got there the rest of our group and our two older leaders we’re already there. Jadah sat me down next to this boy with brown hair and hazel eyes the boy greeted Jadah and gave me a smile. I soon would learn that his name was Charlie. He came to camp with two of his friends, Owen and Jeremy who were also in our group. Then there was this boy called Taylor and another girl called Tori and last but not least our leaders, a man called Ray, who seemed super chill and laid back and a woman named Rose who seemed to be the sweetest person. During that first time meeting everyone I actually started to feel more comfortable, they all seemed pretty nice. Maybe this week wouldn’t be so bad after all.. Soon after meeting your group it was time for dinner with the entire camp. Madison gestured for you to come sit with her, an invitation you happily accepted you had met enough new people for the day. During the dinner the head camp counselors asked for everybody’s attention. They introduced themselves to us and told us some crazy story about how we were gonna play ‘glow in the dark paintball’. Madison laughed at my confused face. “I hate to break the fun but this all just means we’re having a dropping later tonight. they try this every year. They try to prepare us for an intense, active night without actually saying they’re dropping us in the middle of nowhere.” She whispered to me. “Oohhh” I simply replied, actually feeling a bit disappointed.

-Later that night y/n found out Madison was right, the group and their two leaders got dropped in the middle of nowhere and as we speak were trying to find their way back “home”.-

I found myself walking next to Charlie, he was chatting away about all kinds of things I learned all about his family and about his girlfriend who apparently was a staff member on this camp and he promised me, he would introduce me to her. I had to admit, I had the worst experience with boys I had kind of decided that I hated all of them, but this Charlie dude was very easy to talk to, he has this energy that just makes you feel at ease and the other boys seem very nice too.. Charlie ripped me away from my own thoughts, “Sooo Y/N what kind of music do you like? Please tell me you like music..” I couldn’t help but laugh, “If I like music? nah”. I left a short silence before continuing; “I love music!” even though it was dark I could tell he smiled at that answer. “What kind of music is a hard question though. I literally listen to all kinds of things from rock to silly boybands.. I enjoy it all.” It was that moment a song of the band Linkin park popped into my head and I softly started singing it “When my time comes Forget the wrong that I've done. Help me leave behind some reasons to be missed.” Realizing what I was doing I quickly shut up again. “Y/N, were you just singing a Linkin park song?” Charlie asked me. “Yeah..” I replied half ashamed, “they’re one of my favorite bands actually.” I said. “NO WAY!”He replied all excited. “I love them too!” And without any warning he continued singing the song I started singing. – this boy can sinnnng I thought to myself before joining him and singing along, it only took Owen, Jeremy and Taylor 5 seconds to join us and before I knew it we were walking through the woods at night just singing apparently this entire group really loved music and i was not complaining. After a good while of singing all kinds of songs we quieted down and just had many conversations about everything. And after a few hours of being lost we found our way back. Me and the girls wished the boys a goodnight which apparently goes along with a lot of hugs, this is where I learned Charlie gives the best hugs. They’re some of the tightest hugs I’ve ever had, but at the same time the most comfortable and save feeling ones as well.. I went to sleep as a happy girl that night, so glad all of those people were so nice to me I actually may have found myself some new good friends here.

When I stepped out of my room the next morning I saw Charlie talking to a girl. “Y/N!” He motioned for me to come over, so I did. “Morning Charlie” I said. “Good morning” he replied ,sounding a lot more alive than I felt. “I promised you I would introduce you to my girlfriend didn’t i? So Y/N this is Emma. Emma meet Y/N it’s her first time here and she’s part of our group now!” “Ohh,” Emma replied. “It’s so nice to meet you! I hope you’ll have a lovely time here” she smiled at me. “It’s nice to meet you too, Charlie has told me quite a bit about you” I told her with a smile. “Only good things I hope”, she said more to the boy than to me. “Anyway breakfast is about to start so I should go and meet my fellow staff members”. She gave Charlie a quick kiss and gave us a ‘I’ll see you soon’ before running off. “So that was Emma, she seems nice” I told Charlie. Charlie smiled, “She is! She came into my life when I was feeling very low. In some way she really saved me you know.” “Well I’m glad she did” I told him. I couldn’t imagine this happy, social, excited boy being depressed.. this Emma girl sure did something right. “Yeah me too” Charlie replied, “should we go get some breakfast?” And before I could even say anything Charlie was already on his way.

The rest of the day was filled with playing games with our group against other groups. Not gonna lie, we were the worst we lost every single game but boy did we have fun. We were cheering each other on, Tori thought us some cheerleader dance, we were laughing at our own failure and singing random songs trough out the day. After dinner there was this thing called “Family time” which i learned, basically meant getting together with your own small group and talking about a more serious topic. Ray and Rose , our older leaders, were talking to us about believing in yourself and knowing that you’re good enough just the way you are. And while the others were saying things here and there, I was quiet. Veeery quiet. I never really believed in myself, all I had been hearing for 10 years is how ugly I was, how I failed at a most things, people laughed at me when I did something wrong, boys told me I didn’t deserve to be loved.. and i could go on.. I did not like myself at all and I sure didn’t think I was good enough for anything or anyone. Rose ended our night by reading us a little poem she wrote about how loved we were. As soon as we were allowed to go I walked off quickly I felt the tears burning in my eyes. I couldn’t cry, not in front of my new friends.. So I sat down in a somewhat hidden spot and just silently cried with my head in my hands.

After a minute or so I felt someone sit down beside me and putting an arm around my shoulder pulling me a little closer. Then I heard a voice ask me “Y/N are you okay? What’s wrong?” It was Charlie genuinely sounding concerned, he slowly rubbed my back trying to calm me down. This entire thing he did was new to me, I wasn’t used to people noticing something was wrong or asking me if I was doing okay and I was definitely not used to a boy comforting me. I-I , I began but the sobs made it impossible to speak. Charlie pulled me into a hug and kept telling me it was okay. After a few minutes of sobbing into his shirt I calmed down a bit and Charlie let go of me. I smiled at him with a tear stained face, “thank you for that and sorry about your shirt..” “don’t worry about it”he replied “Now do you wanna tell me what was wrong?” “ I uhh.. I guess I’m not really used to people telling me I’m loved or people telling me I’m good enough. I’m actually more used to the opposite of that.. so hearing those things just really overwhelmed me and apparently broke me..”I could see in Charlie’s face that he felt bad for me. “I’m so sorry”he said, “you’re such a cool person Y/N! We all happen to think that so you better believe it.” “Stop!” I said slapping his arm playfully “or you’ll make me cry all over again.” He laughed, “I’m sorry. But it’s true.” Not really knowing how to deal with that compliment I just smiled at him. Charlie continued ;” hey listen, if you.. you know ever need someone to talk to. I’m here okay?” “Thanks Charlie, that means a lot.” Charlie smiled at me and got up from the ground holding his hand out for me, “Come on. We’re gonna go back to the others, they were planning on playing some boardgames tonight. Are you in?” “Yeah I’m in,” I replied while taking his hand he pulled me up from the ground. When me and Charlie got to our friends Madison Savannah and Jadah immediately stood up and pulled me in for a hug. “Are you okay?” Madi asked. “Yeah I am now. Thanks” I replied with a smile. “So I heard we were playing games I’m in!” I said changing the subject. “Heck yeah!” Sav replied “you’re on my team Y/N! we’re playing against the boys.” “ Alright, Let’s show ‘em what we got!” I replied. And so we ended the night on a very competitive but good note.

Part 2 // Part 3

#julie and the phantoms #fic #charlie gillespie #my life #madison reyes #Jeremy Shada #owen joyner #made by me #story #jadah marie #savannah lee may #taylor kare #tori caro #jatp #jatp fanfic #readerxcharlie #perfect harmony #charlie gillespie fic #charlie gillespie fanfiction

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loverspersonas · 3 years

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the most beautiful moment in life | viii

pairing: ot7? x reader

genre: hyyh au, high school au, angst, drama, fluff, smut?

length: 5.5k

summary: Eight strangers with different stories happen to meet one day, by fate or some kind of cruel, exquisite happenstance, and realize that they’re not as different as they thought.

a/n: i realize i’m updating really slowly and the reason for that is online school which is taking up pretty much all my time BUT it hasn’t stopped me from writing at all. i actually have many different scenes written already, they’re just not in order, so i have to kind of make myself write the scenes that are happening first before any of those, which is hard sometimes cause i have so many ideas :)

i realize that the pace of the fic is also kind of slow and that’s because i don’t want to have such a big overarching plot (like some kind of mystery to solve or a big villain) but rather small subplots happening at the same time. it feels easier to me to develop characters and relationships and i get to include a lot of different plot ideas that way (and there is so much happening in hyyh). it’s also hard writing this cause the bangtan universe is really complicated when you think too much about it, and we don’t even know everything about it, so i have to work with what we have and what i know.

so thank you guys for liking what i’m writing! i hope i can do the hyyh era some (even if it’s the tiniest amount) justice, and i hope you guys enjoy it too. and if you have feedback or ideas, i’d love to hear it!

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Remembering details from a dream was a lot harder than a nightmare. Nightmares had you waking up in a cold sweat, sometimes plaguing your mind throughout the day if they were intense enough. Dreams, however, were only alive while you were asleep, and then they slipped away from your mind like they never even happened.

For the past few weeks, you’d been getting dreams that you could mostly or somewhat recall more often. Vague, obscure scenes or flashes that changed sporadically because even in your dream state, you had no control over your mind.

But you noticed that they tended to involve people in your life. Your mother, Sana, your old friends, and the seven boys you’d unconsciously formed a friendship with over the past month. Of course, it didn’t have to mean anything. But some of them strangely stood out more than others.

One time, you saw Namjoon standing in a dark area with a single white light illuminating his silhouette from above, and a cigarette slipping from between his fingers. Another time, there was Hoseok at what looked like a train station. He was walking along the train tracks at night like he couldn’t see you watching him. And then, there was a scene of Jungkook walking on to the road, changing almost immediately before a car swerved right into him. That was one thing you couldn’t forget. Because you remembered it had been you driving that car.

“Y/N?”

The voice of the exact boy you were thinking of broke through your string of thoughts. When you looked up, you suddenly remembered where you were.

There were a lot of nice vast areas of green fields that belonged to the Academy. With iron benches and tables and the smell of oak trees, it was an ideal setting for many fundraisers, picnics and outdoor events. You were currently sitting cross legged on top of one of those gray metal tables right beside a tall tree that cast a shade over you and the seven others sitting around you. Judging by the way some of them were looking at you, you must’ve missed something in the conversation.

“Hmm?” you asked, glancing at Jungkook who was sitting beside you, also on top of the table.

“See, I told you she wasn’t listening,” Taehyung said to the two taller boys on either side of him. “Face it, Namjoon. The books were boring.”

While Seokjin seemed thoroughly amused, Namjoon’s expression was just the slightest bit annoyed, so you could tell this argument might have been going on for a while. But his patience with Taehyung and the some of the other boys was astounding to you.

On the opposite side of the bench, Yoongi was sitting with Jimin and Hoseok, and quirked a brow in Taehyung’s way. “You literally said that you watched the Lord of the Rings a month ago.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So?” Namjoon repeated, and the tick in his jaw represented the snapping of his patience. “They have the exact same plot!”

You found yourself drifting from the rest of the conversation again, as some of the other boys began to chime in. On your lap was a notebook you realized you’d been scribbling in with a pencil while the others had been talking. It was hard to decide which was more concerning— the fact that you’d so effectively tuned out the boys, or that you were only vaguely aware that you’d been drawing at the same time.

You felt someone studying you in your peripheral vision. Jungkook decided to finally nudge you. “Not interested in fantasy novel series?”

“No, I—just spaced out for a second,” you answered lamely.

His earlier grin morphed into a slight frown. “Are you okay?”

Am I okay? “Yeah.”

His gaze dropped to your open book, widening a little in mild surprise. “I thought you said you couldn’t draw.”

“I don’t. Art class was an ironic choice that way.”

“What are you talking about?” Jimin said as he leaned over Jungkook to get a better look. Slowly, the others turned their attention towards you too. “This is pretty good.”

Hoseok, who was one of the ones in closest proximity to you, stretched out his hand so you could pass him the book. “Woah.” He went through a few various facial expressions, a lot of them where he scrunched up his eyebrows. “What’s the inspiration behind that?”

“Probably not those dry as hell books,” Taehyung retorted.

Namjoon didn’t hesitate to shove the loud mouthed boy off of the bench, earning more than a few laughs from everyone. Taehyung shot him a glare with an offended hey!

“Nothing,” you answered him. “I just got distracted.”

The notebook was now in Namjoon’s hand and his expression was contemplative as he fixated his eyes onto the page. “You got distracted and absentmindedly drew this? With no idea in your head?”

“I had a dream.” You gave a shrug, stealing a few potato chips from Jungkook’s snack. “So, I drew it.”

“A dream like this?”

You looked back at him, trying not to frown. “Why, is it that weird?”

“Not weird,” he assured. “Just… a little unusual. I’ve never met anyone our age who would come up with stuff like this from their subconscious.”

“Who’s the boy supposed to be?” Yoongi asked after the book got rotated to him.

“I don’t know,” you answered. There hadn’t been a real chance to glimpse the boy from that scene. All you remembered was the black hair and the white shirt he was wearing as he stood looking out the only window in a plain room with only a mattress and white flower petals scattered on the floor. “Some random guy, I guess.”

“Everyone we see in our dreams are people we’ve seen at some point in our lives,” Namjoon said.

You gave this a considerative hum. Though you knew maybe thirty people who could fit in that description. “Well, I don’t remember then.”

“Let me see,” Seokjin said, taking the book in his hand. A moment later, his face morphed into something you couldn’t quite decipher. But it was like for that moment, he had understood something without realizing it.

“Why the hell are so many people out here at this time?” Jimin spoke up as a few students or groups of them began to appear on the field or pathway, spilling out from the building. “This is when it’s supposed to be the quietest here. I was looking forward to not seeing… pretty much everyone.”

“It’s not like we own this place,” Jungkook reminded him.

Jimin shrugged nonchalantly. “As long as the bright young things don’t show up…“

And just like on cue, the group of cheerleaders and jocks were walking on the opposite side of the field. You didn’t let your attention linger on the old group of friends you didn’t want anything to do with anymore. But as you glanced away, Yoongi caught your eyes as though he knew what you were thinking.

“Way to go, Jimin,” Hoseok said, giving the boy a light shove. “You just manifested it.”

Taehyung leaned back in his seat. “Seeing them this early in the day is really bad for my digestion.”

“Who told you to shove two chocolate muffins down your throat?” Yoongi said to him, referring to the now empty plastic container sitting beside you. You’d made a large quantity of them the other day and after recalling how Hoseok had liked your baking—and all his following requests over texts to make more— maybe the others would like something too.

The younger boy didn’t acknowledge the harmless judging tone he’d used. “My inner subconscious, which by the way, I have no regrets about.”

“It’s great how you can say that so confidently about something in your life,” Namjoon said with slight skeptical wonder.

“Y/N made those muffins for us with all her heart and soul—“

“Actually, it was just flour and sugar...” you mumbled though your voice was mostly lost under theirs.

“I was just displaying my gratitude,” Taehyung said finally.

“The muffins were actually really good,” Seokjin said to you as he closed the sketchbook and handed it back to you. You made a mental note to ask him about it later.

“Y/N’s a good baker,” Hoseok affirmed before looking at you. “How long did you say you’ve been at it for?”

“Not that long.” You twisted your dyed blonde hair into a bun and slid the pencil you’d been drawing with through it to hold it in place. “I just picked it up this year.”

Taehyung looked at you with a grin. “I guess I’ll have to annoy you enough at work to get stuff for free.”

You returned it with an exaggerated smile. “You come to work during my shift, I’ll have security ask you to leave for harassment.”

His mouth fell open. “B-but I’ll tip!”

You shook your head, chuckling a little. “You’re ridiculous.”

With his arms folded over his chest, he glanced around sombrely. “This is how brittle friendship is, I guess. Like a dark chocolate bar.”

Namjoon, hiding his amusement with an arched brow, said, “Taehyung, remind me to never ask you for poetry recommendations.”

“Hey.”

Everyone seemed to fall into a silence, realizing that voice didn’t belong to any of you. They turned their heads towards the new arrival, but you didn’t have to look to know who’d approached the table. At first, you thought you could get away without saying anything, but the rest of the boys were casting imperceivable glances in your direction. Finally, one of the others did what you didn’t want to.

“Hi,” Namjoon said to the boy who’d once been the closest to you.

Min-hyuk stood there, as though expecting you to eventually say something to him. Then he looked around the group, smiling his friendly, star quarterback smile. “Sorry to interrupt. I’m Min-hyuk.”

“We know who you are,” Yoongi said, the cold undertones in his voice not going unheard by anyone. Leave it to him to keep things harsh but real.

Min-hyuk, probably not used to hearing that kind of tone with that sentence, stared at the boy, a little dumbfounded. “Oh…”

Namjoon—you reminded yourself to tell the guy what a blessing he was— stepped in again. It was probably good that it was him who was leading the conversation. You’d learned by now that none of the others were quite as sensible and level headed when they needed to be. “What he means is, do you need something?”

“Can we talk, Y/N?” Min-hyuk asked finally, the question you’d been dreading, because now it was explicitly directed at you.

You held back a defeated sigh and said, “I have class in a few—“

“It won’t take long, I promise.”

He seemed to be somewhat satisfied when you looked up at him and nodded just imperceptibly. He started to move away from the table, and you made a move to follow when a hand gently closed around your wrist.

“You know, you don’t have to talk to him if you don’t want to,” Jungkook said quietly but firmly. His eyes held something like concern, and gazing around the table, the others wore similar expressions.

“Yeah,” you said. “But he won’t stop until I do.”

Jungkook released his hand from yours, watching as you got up and walked over to where Min-hyuk was waiting.

You put your hands in your pockets, right away saying, “Let’s get right to point this time, shall we?”

“I left you a note the other day,” he said, not happy with your attitude, but not able to say anything to it either. “You didn’t reply.”

“That was you?” you asked, dumbly. “I didn’t realize.”

“Come on, Y/N. Who else would write you that?” He paused. “My mother said she saw you at the hospital yesterday. Is everything okay?”

You didn’t meet his gaze, instead mostly looking at the ground. If your eyes drifted around too much, you were afraid to see that other students were watching you like a movie scene. You knew that the seven boys you’d just left were certainly doing that. “Uh huh,” you answered, without any emotion.

Min-hyuk held back an impatient noise. “Look, I know you don’t want to talk to me, but I just want to know you’re doing fine.”

This time, you did look up to meet his eyes. “Why?”

“Why?” He was partly taken aback with surprise at your response. “We might not be together anymore, but it’s not like I just don’t care all of a sudden.”

“You didn’t care before.”

He stared at your expression, like he was wondering if you meant it. “Do you really think that?“

“You were never on my side.”

“What?”

Before, this would’ve been hard for you to talk about, because you’d only ever avoided it. To think about it would make you think about all the times you knew you should’ve walked away, the times that you stood there and just took everything when you knew you deserved better than that. But maybe it was time to rip the bandaid off. How long were you going to go back and forth like this? How long was he going to try to hold on to you when you wanted out?

“You wanted to know where it all went wrong,” you spoke. “How about when you stood there and let everyone, even our own friends, say all those things about me. And when I asked you to trust me, you didn’t.”

“It wasn’t that simple.” He shook his head. At least he had the decency to look apologetic, to sound like he meant what he thought. “I–I wanted to trust you—“

“I think I see it now.” It was taking a lot of courage for you to finally say what you needed to say, and now that you finally found it, you didn’t even care that other people were watching or listening. “We were both so good at acting like everything about us was perfect. And as soon as I stopped, things changed. The difference between us is that one of us still pretending.”

“Min-hyuk!” One of his friends from the football team—one of your former ones— came up beside him, tapping his shoulder. He looked at you with the kind of friendliness that was reserved for any random student in the hallway. “Hi, Y/N. What are you guys talking about?”

Min-hyuk seemed to have nothing to say, his gaze on you fixed, but his mind on the words you’d spoken. You were glad you had the ability to leave him speechless, to see him actually opening his eyes to a world outside that bubble he lived in. The bubble that you’d also been a part of, but were now glad to have found a way out.

“Well,” you said to both of them. “I have class now.”

With your bag over your shoulder, you turned and headed for the building without paying attention to any of the stares that followed you.

By the end of the day, that courage and energy that had allowed you to speak up to Min-hyuk had dissipated. Hopefully, he wouldn’t approach you again any time soon. Was it asking too much to not be approached by anyone else at all?

Now, you were standing in front of the doors to the pool once again, looking inside, but not having the courage to go in. It was almost a metaphor for your life. You were standing on the outside of a part of your life from the past, not being able to actually go in and see it properly.

Yoongi’s figure materialized next to you, not saying anything at first as though he could tell you were deep in thought. So, you broke the silence first and asked, “Long day?”

“You have no idea,” he answered. “Guess which asshole of a teacher decided to assign us a 10 page paper due in less than a week?”

Glancing sideways at him, you grinned. “The one who probably has hypertension from having to teach you?”

He shot you a dry look, but the corners of his mouth twitched a little like he was also holding back a grin of his own. “You’re hilarious, princess. But also probably right.” He noticed your attention on the pool on the opposite of the doors. "What, are you not allowed to go in or something? Weren’t you on the swim team at some point?”

Instead of answering, you turned away from the doors and started walking down the hallway. “Weren’t you on the basketball team?”

As Yoongi walked alongside you, subtle surprise appeared on his face. “It’s been a while since anyone’s asked me that.”

“You were captain of the team too, right?” you asked. “That’s how I knew you.”

Something else flickered across his face, though you didn’t know what it was. To you, it was probably the face you wore when you were briefly and vaguely recalling something in your mind. “Well, it’s always nice to hear that my reputation precedes me. And not just as a gothic, underground rapper.” He ignored your subtle roll of eyes. “I played shooting guard actually.”

You hummed, remembering all the basketball games you attended in the gymnasium with your old friends. As part of the cheerleading team, you’d had an obligation to be there, but some of the games actually got interesting to watch. The first time you’d noticed Yoongi was when one time you’d been running late and had been trying to not fall behind the rest of the team. You remembered dropping one of your pompoms while trying to tie your hair up, and in passing, he’d picked up and handed it to you. You didn’t think he remembered it, and maybe it was a little embarrassing that you did.

“You were good too.” You stopped near the front doors, most of the students walking around you with no interest since it was the end of the school day. Yoongi shot you a slightly puzzled look. “I was a cheerleader, remember? I’ve been to a bunch of games.”

“I remember,” he said after a moment, and it didn’t sound like something you’d say to someone just to blindly agree with them, so that was why you ended up meeting his gaze. There was something underneath those deep gray eyes that you didn’t really understand, but somehow, still found it startling to hold eye contact.

You half forced a chuckle to move the attention away from you. “Besides, it’s kind of hard to miss the only guy on the team with dyed blonde hair.”

He chuckled. “I almost forgot about that.”

“How could you forget? You were literally my inspiration,” you said, gesturing to your own bleached hair. When he threw you a dubious side eye, you shouldn’t have been surprised. Surely, that would’ve tricked one of the other boys. “Alright, fine, you didn’t. You know, I definitely do not miss the 5 hour practices, or the tiny uniforms or Yuna screaming at some younger, clueless girl to stop slacking.”

“But the outfits were so cute,” Yoongi teased, and though you were glad the topic changed, you shot him an unamused glance. “It was a joke. On a related note… what did the ex-boyfriend want earlier?”

You arched a brow and held back an amused grin. “You can say his name, you know.”

“Yeah, but that would give him too much significance. Unnamed means unimportant.”

You hummed in agreement. “Nothing really.”

“Is that why you ditched us afterwards without so much as a word?” he asked skeptically.

You tried not to sound irritated about it, but you’d hoped you could make it through the day without having to talk about it. “I ditched you, because I wasn’t in the mood to be interrogated about it.”

“How quickly you assume we would interrogate you.”

“Well, wouldn’t you?”

“Fine,” he grumbled after some seconds. “At least 3/7ths of us might. Can you really blame us for being curious? It looked kind of intense.”

Folding your arms over your chest, you looked at him with a grin forming on your lips. “Remember how you said you didn’t care? Well, it’s starting to sound a little like you do.”

He scoffed. “Please. You mistake my blind curiosity for something it isn’t.” He watched you a little longer as you shrugged before saying, “Remember when you said I was good at deflecting? You’re not so bad at it yourself.”

A part of you thought that this was a good time as any to actually talk about it. About how you’d cut things off with Yuna and Min-hyuk, and why you’d wanted to. By now, you felt like you could tell any of the seven boys and they’d listen—actually listen—and Yoongi, despite coming off as aloof and indifferent, wouldn’t judge you or anything. But this recent bond with them felt like a new and good thing, and you just didn’t want to jeopardize it, like you did with most things.

"Do you a need ride home?” Yoongi asked when he realized you were too deep in your head to say anything else about it. “I’m giving Jungkook one too, so I can drop you off after.”

“You go ahead,” you answered. “I have some stuff to do first.”

At first, he seemed almost reluctant to leave you alone, but you had a feeling he wouldn’t insist or comment on it. It would contradict his indifference to most things. Only after he left did you turn and start aimlessly walking down the other side of the hallway. It wasn’t like you had anything to do. You just weren’t sure if you wanted to be around anyone with curiosity like Yoongi’s lingering above your head. Talking about yourself and your personal life was never fun.

Eventually, you ran into another familiar face.

“Hey, what’s up?” Namjoon said as he approached you in the hall.

“If this is about this morning, I’d rather not talk about it,” you decided to say immediately because if anyone could get answers from you by asking the right questions, it was probably Namjoon.

Fortunately for you, Namjoon could’ve read that from a mile away and wasn’t one to pry. He nodded in understanding. “I figured as much. Oh, hold on a second.” From his backpack, he drew out some loose papers tucked into a notebook. “I went through some of these to find whatever was legible enough.”

You scanned the writing briefly. “Your English notes?”

“Yeah, I remember you said the last class went over your head.”

“I just don’t understand why it’s bought and not buyed, but it’s walk and walked? Like why can’t they can’t follow the same rule for every past tense conjugation?” you complained, but still a little touched that he remembered something you’d probably said in passing. “But thanks.”

“Also, if you see Taehyung, can you let him know I can’t walk home with him today?”

You nodded. “Sure. Staying back for extra work?”

“No, I—I have a shift today.”

You wondered why he sounded reluctant to answer. “Where do you work?”

“It’s a library,” he said with a small shrug. “It’s on the other side of the city, so I like to leave a little earlier.”

You shot him an amused grin. “Were there no libraries nearby hiring? Because I know if they saw your GPA, they would not hesitate.”

“Uh, this one has a nicer collection.”

“Alright,” you said, deciding not to question his responses since he hadn’t questioned you. But for some reason, it felt like he was trying to hide something. “See you tomorrow then.”

Smiling, he said, “Thanks, Y/N.”

As he walked away, you had to stop the curiosity from getting to you. It truly was an ordeal to be so curious and not want to intrude upon things that didn’t concern you. You had to remind yourself that it was better that information came to you at the right time rather than forcing it. At first, the reminder was about other people, but sometimes, you thought it was also about yourself.

After exiting through the west doors, you noticed Taehyung at the bottom of the staircase right outside the building. He was leaning against the railing, hood over his head and concentrated on whatever game he was playing on his phone. You slowed your steps, approaching the stairs. “You’re still here.”

Taehyung glanced up at you, slipping his phone into his pocket as you came towards him. “Waiting for Namjoon. The kid’s a genius, but his punctuality could use a little improvement.”

You quirked a brow. “Kid? He’s older than you.”

Folding his arms over his chest, he said pointedly, “And I’m older than you. So how about you don’t question me?”

You had to bite back a smile at his antics. It was hard to believe sometimes that most of these boys were older than you. “He told me to tell you he has work today, so he can’t make it.”

He let out a loud and dramatic groan, practically cringing at himself. “For real? I probably look like some idiot, waiting on the stairs for his even more of an idiot boyfriend.”

You shrugged, not hiding the smile this time. “Just a little.”

He looked back at you. “How are you getting home? I’ll walk with you.”

He already started walking, expecting you to follow, so you didn’t get a chance to reply. With a defeated sigh, you decided to go after him.

Your first mistake was choosing to walk all the way home instead of taking the bus. Your second mistake was letting Taehyung take the lead, because that boy looked like he’d never had a plan a day in his life. While you somewhat admired the spontaneity, you were used to routine or a plan of some kind. Although you did suppose that this year, everything that had happened, and was happening now, was not planned at all.

“I’ve never gone this way before.”

The buildings were older and a bit worn away, but almost in an intentional manner, posters and signs on the gray brick walls. You passed several small shops and restaurants and cafes that despite appearing quaint seemed very cute. The people that walked by were all in their own worlds, not so much as glancing at you or anyone near them. It was something like a secret tourist spot or a hidden gem.

“Really?” Taehyung said. He walked on your right, but a little ahead. You wanted to say it was because he was leading the way, but that presumed he knew where he was going. “This street’s pretty cool. Hidden away from the centre, though, so you don’t really know about it until you come yourself.”

You removed your eyes from an old bookstore with a chalkboard sign outside. “You must do a lot of exploring, huh?”

“Whatever gets me out of the house.” He stopped walking abruptly. When you stopped to ask what was wrong, you saw a mischievous smile form on his face. “I just had a brilliant idea.”

“Why am I kind of doubtful?”

Despite the many, many questions you asked, Taehyung didn’t answer any of them. He could try and be mysterious if he wanted, but you wouldn’t buy it, was what you said to him. Instead, you waited outside while he went into a convenience store for a few minutes. You shouldn’t have been so surprised when he emerged with a plastic bag in hand, full of bottles of spray paint. You opened your mouth to ask what he was planning, but he just tugged on your arm and made you follow him around the corner.

The street you stopped at had to be somewhat of a visual arts scene, because you recalled passing arts and crafts places and small galleries, and the wall that stood in front of you now was a graffiti wall.

“This is so cool,” you said in awe, all thoughts of skepticism at Taehyung’s actions gone. Your gaze roamed over the various artwork and writing, painted on by different kinds of paint and people and minds. It was like an anonymous outlet for creativity and self expression, something like in the olden days when things like freedom of expression was outlawed, so people had to get creative around it.

“I love all kinds of art,” Taehyung said, dropping his backpack and crouching near the ground. “But graffiti has become more interesting recently. Here.”

You looked to see that he was holding out a can of spray paint for you. “This is vandalizing.”

He half scoffed, half laughed. “This is an artistic statement.”

“They’re not mutually exclusive, Taehyung.”

“Relax, Y/N.” He placed the can in your hand himself after he decided that you wouldn’t take it, then took another out of the bag for himself. “I’ve done this billions of times. You won’t get caught.”

Despite yourself, there was an urge in you to just do it, get your hands a little messy. That was why you liked to bake after all, wasn’t it? That was why you chose art class. You could make a mess and make something good out of it. You could control something instead of being controlled. But turning back to the wall of art and messages and stories, you hesitated. “I can’t paint like this,” you tried lamely.

Taehyung shot you a look. “I saw your sketch today. It was far from shitty.” After a minute of waiting, he sighed. “Fine, I’ll go first.”

The way he walked up the an empty section of the wall with confidence, how he shook the paint can and effortlessly began to draw strokes in red paint told you that he wasn’t lying when he said he’d done this a lot.

When he finished, he stepped back to where you stood, briefly appraising his work before saying, “Your turn. Don’t think too much. Just whatever’s on your mind, let it out.”

So, you found yourself closing your eyes briefly, and releasing a breath before stepping forward. You pushed on the paint can’s nozzle and let your mind take over for your hand and for a few minutes, all that was heard was the faint car engines in the distance and the spraying noise of the paint. Finally, you let your arm drop to see what you’d made. It was a pair of blue wings like a butterfly’s.

Taehyung studied the wall for a moment before humming, “Interesting.”

“By interesting, you mean awful.”

He shot you a look. “By interesting, I mean interesting. You and Namjoon might like to have second meanings to your sentences, but I’m a simple guy.”

“Uh huh.” You watched him move back to the wall and start painting something else. It was funny how before you’d known him, you had him pegged for some kind of reckless skater boy with a rebellious streak. He was actually more of an artsy boy with a rebellious streak. “I guess it would be easier if everyone wasn’t always pretending to be something they’re not.”

“Was Min-hyuk pretending to be a super nice guy again?” He only glanced over his shoulder at you when he didn’t get an answer. Of course this topic would’ve inevitable come up although you’d also assumed Taehyung would avoid uncomfortable conversations whenever he could. “None of those guys are all what they show. It’s good that you hit one of them. You might accidentally activate some part in the brain that knocks some sense into them.”

You nodded at this, slightly amused. “If that was how neurobiology worked.”

“Let’s experiment. Hit me over the head really hard and tomorrow, let’s see if I pass my math test.”

You were holding back a laugh when your gaze fell on part of his drawing. “Is that your signature?”

“Oh, that... it’s kind of like my alias,” Taehyung said almost like it was embarrassing for him to say. This must have been the first time he’d told someone about his side hobby. “For when I’m out painting.”

“For when you’re out vandalizing,” you remarked.

He mocked the face you’d made earlier and said, “They’re not mutually exclusive, Y/N.”

You let out a scoff, but couldn’t hide your amusement. “What does it mean? The V?”

“It’s short for Vante.”

You hummed. “Interesting.”

“You mean interesting good or interesting bad?”

“I mean interesting,” you said, deepening your voice a little to mock him.

The side of his mouth curved into a grin. “Touche.”

Returning your attention to the wall, your eyes began to study the various drawings, fleetingly going back to another wall and another drawing. “You haven’t seen anything like the hwa yang yeong hwa we saw before, have you?”

“No,” Taehyung answered, then gave it another thought. “Not that I’ve been to a lot of graffiti places outside of this area. But from where I have looked around, it’s made me think that maybe this... Smeraldo person isn’t a regular graffiti artist.”

“As in, this was just a one time thing for them?”

“Maybe.”

“I guess that means it’s not just graffiti we should be looking at,” you speculated. “It’s definitely a start but could be any art form.”

“Or maybe the art is just a way to get it out there.”

You frowned. “Meaning what? Someone’s trying to say something? To send a message?”

He shrugged. “It’s possible, yeah.”

His attention refocused on the drawing he’d started, but your mind began to run through possible explanations. What if somehow someone was trying to say something? More importantly, what if someone was trying to say something to you?

The sun was beginning to lower by the time you reached Taehyung’s place. You didn’t even realize the two of you had been out for a while with his detour idea.

You tilted your head up to observe the apartment building complex. Since you’d never been to this part of the city before, you couldn’t say much about it. But by the oldness and the obvious low maintenance of the building, you guessed that the rent was affordable. Taehyung, like you, wasn’t one of the richer kids of the Academy. You supposed that the talent that had gotten him in was art related, if not painting specifically.

“Is this where you live?” you asked to break the silence.

“Yup,” Taehyung said, popping the sound at the end. “Home sweet…” He trailed off a little as his faraway gaze crossed the building, instead turning back to you. “Do you live close by? I can walk with you.”

You made a dubious face. “Are you sure you want to walk there and then all the way back?”

“Hey, I may be lazy, but I’m not that lazy.”

“I don’t need protecting, if that’s what you were going to say.”

He scoffed. “Obviously not. You broke a guy’s fucking jaw!”

“It wasn’t actually broken,” you muttered before shaking your head. “Wouldn’t you rather go home? Your parents are probably waiting for you.”

“No one’s waiting for me.” Before you could say anything, he waved it away, his long hair hiding the expression on his face you were trying to read. “It’s fine. Forget it.”

But he didn’t make a move to walk towards the complex’s stairs that led up to the first floor. Even as you stood there for another minute and he just stood with you, you realized he wasn’t about to head home regardless of if you left now or stayed. And for a moment, you wondered if this was what he had meant that day weeks ago. No one’s waiting for me. It was a thought that had held a place in your mind for a long time too.

It’s better not to force information you don’t even need to know, a voice in the back of your head reminded. Finally, you said, “Are you hungry? I could go for some coffee, and the Brew’s not far from here.”

Taehyung turned to look at you. If he was grateful for the chance to avoid going home, he didn’t show it. “Will you give me a discount?”

“If you stop talking, I’ll pay for your entire order.”

The carefree smile that stretched across his face as he started dragging you towards the next street was enough for you to know that he was, in fact, at least a little grateful.

chapter vii // chapter ix (coming soon)

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lomlmarvel · 4 years

Text

It’ll Always Be You

Randall Carpio x fem!Reader Series

Part One :)

Sophomore year of college was said to be more relaxed and less stressful than the previous year. Although, for most people, the stress they referred to was being independent for the first time, being home-sick, finally being responsible for your own things and the start of adulthood. For you, all of those were included, but another event that made your year more interesting was joining the Knights. It wasn't something you had planned to happen; it just did.

You passed all the freshmen walking through the corridors with their parents and moving boxes. Some cried, others were ecstatic, and others were pushing their parents out. You had a take-out bag in one hand while the other held a drink carrier that you swiftly maneuvered away from people's bodies. Randall was meant to meet you a couple of minutes ago but said he got held up, showing a first-year student to his dorm and settling him in. You offered to meet him at the dorms, and that's how you ended in the freshmen building.

You were nearing the room number Randall had told you, and you could hear a male voice talking inside.

"There's so much to experience, so much to taste. Don't let someone else define you. Don't waste this opportunity. Don't... touch my shit. Also, nice to meet you".

"You too."

As you were about to knock on the door, a tall guy in a white shirt walked out and looked around like it was his first time there. He basically ignored you as he continued walking down the hall. You poked your head in through the open door and saw Randall, who waved you to come in.

"I'm almost done. Sorry, Jack, that's my friend, (Y/N)" Randall said, introducing you as the mysterious guy in the middle of the room remained with his back to you. So, you looked down to let Randall finish his little speech.

"Any questions about changing roommates? No? Great. You lose your key. It's 75 bucks to replace it," Randall continued, standing up from his position.

"(Y/N)?" the mysterious unknown freshmen said. You looked up as his voice sounded familiar and saw the one and only Jack Morton.

"Jack? I didn't know you were coming to Belgrave!" You said, approaching him and pulling him in for a hug. He returned the hug and pulled away to look at your face.

"Wow, I haven't seen you since..." Jack replied, trying to think of the last time he saw you.

"Since my Grandma moved us away. Yeah, wow! It's so good to see you! How's Grandpa Pete?" You asked, completely forgetting about the other male in the room.

"He's good—stubborn, pushy, kind of a dick, like always. Do you remember? How's your Grandma?" Jack was then interrupted by the dark-haired male in the room.

"Wait, you guys know each other?" Randall asked, turning to look at you first, then Jack, then back at you. Randall could see the wide smile on your face that told him there was some history between you.

"Yeah, we grew up in the same street. Went to school together until my Grandma forced us to move, and we just lost contact," You answered as you set the bag of food and drinks on the table nearby.

"Wow, small world," Randall made a comment that you could tell was sarcastic, "Anyways, Jack. Here is your welcome package. It's got your map of campus," Randall pulled out his clipboard and handed Jack a stack of papers. "Complete with all-male, female, and non-binary bathroom locations. There's a bunch of coupons--"

"--for stuff, you'll never buy," You said to Jack, causing him to chuckle. Randall sent you a weird glance, which you returned.

"There is a rape whistle and a 'How Not to Rape' pamphlet. Any questions?" Randall asked as he grabbed the take-out bag and handed you the drinks. He started moving towards the door as you stayed in the same location.

"Nope. But if you need a hand with anything, don't hesitate to ask," Jack replied with a smile on his face, causing you to laugh.

"I think I'm supposed to say that," Randall laughed as he grabbed your hand to pull you out of the room, but you pulled away.

"But seriously, Jack. If you need anything, you can ask Randall and if not, here's my number," You said, grabbing Randall’s pen, writing your number down on one of Jack’s paper and handing it back to him," It's really great to see you. I hope we can catch up soon," You stated, and Jack nodded.

"Yeah, for sure. I just have my orientation later, and maybe I'll send you a text after," Jack replied. You nodded and said goodbye as Randall managed to pull you out of the room.

As soon as you reached the outside of the dorm building, you punched Randall on the shoulder.

"Hey! What was that for!" He yelped, rubbing his upper arm with his free hand. You rolled your eyes at his obliviousness. Randall could tell that you noticed his change in attitude towards Jack once he saw you.

"You didn't have to be rude! We could've left like normal people," You stated. You kept walking alongside him. He looked perfect sporting khaki jeans, a black graphic tee, and a black sweater. He rarely wore anything other than sweats and a shirt. But since freshmen were moving in, he had to look 'professional.'

"What are you talking about? I like Jack; I wasn't rude," Randall quickly said, taking his hand and grabbing yours. You and Randall weren't dating. He was your best friend, and you were his. But he didn't act the same way with you than he did with Lilith. He always reached for your hand, always touching you, whether it was an arm around your shoulder, his hand on your legs when you would watch TV together, and you two cuddled regularly. You had feelings for Randall, of course, you did, but he didn't feel the same. He flirted with girls whenever you guys were at the Blade and Chalice, a restaurant/bar on campus. However, you liked it when he was affectionate; that's why you never said anything. Whenever he reached for your hand, your heart always accelerated; you could feel the blood rush to your cheeks, and the hairs on your arm stand up.

"So, where do you want to go to eat this? Your place? The den? Or our place!" Randall asked, drifting the conversation from Jack to you two.

Randall wasn't jealous of Jack Morton. He had barely met the guy. What was bugging him, however, was the fact that you had never mentioned him before. He knew Jack was a friend, but there was something more; he just couldn't pinpoint it. Also, Randall Carpio wasn't a jealous type. He was confident, charming, and he knew how to tell a girl he was into her, but with you, it was different.

"Let's go to our place. We haven't been there in a while," you mentioned. He agreed, and the two of you began your walk to your destination.

'Your place' wasn't really yours, to begin with. It was no one’s. It was a big oak tree somewhere in the woods where you had run into Randall the first time you met him. You had been on a run and got distracted, which ended up with you getting lost in the woods and Randall finding you. You were confused about what he was doing in the woods, but you got to learn that information a few weeks later. Randall had offered to walk you back to campus, and you thanked him. The walk back wasn't uncomfortable or awkward; the two of you got to know each other and hit it off right away. The rest was pretty much history.

"So I was thinking about Jack and the Knights," Randall stated once the two of you sat down on the ground. You took out your food and handed Randall his.

"Yeah, I don't think so," you mumbled, taking a bite of your food.

"And why not?" Randall asked. You sent him a look, and he looked puzzled.

"First off, Lilith hates almost everyone, and I have a feeling she'll hate Jack. Two, Hamish is still pretty much getting used to me joining the Knights, and I've been here a while. Three, remember how hard it was to convince Hamish about me?" You pointed out. Randall agreed with your first point but then disagreed with the rest.

"No, that's not true. Hamish loves you! He prefers you over me," Randall fought back. The charming asshole knew what he was doing. He was kissing your ass so you could back him up if he ever decided to bring up Jack to the Knights.

"Look, let Jack settle in first, and then you can scout him for your little fantasy wolf pack," you replied. Randall smiled at your comment and bumped shoulders with you.

"You can't date him, though. Because then that'll be awkward," Randall got a boost of confidence in him as he said this. He wanted to ask about your history with Jack but didn't want to seem nosy or jealous.

"Yeah, not gonna happen. We were best friends growing up, but strictly platonic".

Randall couldn't help but smile at this revelation. He had been trying to tell you how he felt about you all year. However, he managed to convince himself to ask you out once school started. Still, he just hadn't had the chance even though you hung out almost every day.

"Hey, by the way, remember how I was wait-listed for Hamish's class? Well, I finally got a seat!" You told Randall who put his hand up for a high five. He clashed your hands together and smiled.

"That's right!" He exclaimed, holding onto your hand for a while. You smiled at his enthusiasm and chuckled. You loved that about Randall. He was always so supportive of anything you did. He was your personal cheerleader and confidant. He was your drinking buddy, study buddy, comforter, and anything you needed. He was the whole package. You just wished you had the guts to tell him so.

While you had been in your own thoughts. You hadn't noticed how close the two of you had gotten. You could feel his breath on your lips, and with each glance from his lips to his eyes, he seemed to be getting closer. This was it. This was the moment you had been waiting for since realizing your feelings for him. You parted your lips and tilted your head to align with his lips.

"Do you want me to walk you back to the den?" Randall asked, quickly jumping back and creating distance between the two of you. Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment, and you turned to pick up your trash.

"I totally forgot I have another freshman coming in. I also just want to do another round before I call it a day," Randall continued as you stood up.

"Uh... no, it's fine. I can walk myself," you replied, wiping your hands on your jeans. "Are you coming to the den later, or no?"

"I'm not sure. I'll let you know. If not, I'll see you tomorrow?" He asked. You nodded and said bye to him as you began walking in separate directions.

That had been weird. You were sure he was going to kiss you. But maybe he just got caught up in the moment and didn't actually feel anything romantic towards you. That broke your heart, but that's how it was sometimes.

Making his journey back to campus, Randall mentally kicked himself for being so close to finally doing what he's been wanting to do for a long time. Truthfully, he got scared. He was scared that you didn't reciprocate feelings for him and that it would ruin your friendship. But maybe, he got the courage to really tell you next time.

A/N: Will be writing the other parts soon and will updating them:)

#imagines #randall carpio x reader #randall carpio imagine #hamish duke x reader #hamish duke imagine #jack morton x reader #jack morton imagine #the order #netflix #randall carpio #jack morton #hamish duke #lilith bathory #lilith bathory imagine #It’ll Always Be You Series

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khoicesbyk · 3 years

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Beloved.

A/N: I'm officially obsessed with Wolf Bride and what does one do when she's obsessed with a certain book? She writes an AU about it! 😁 So, Talley Ho! *in my Sherlock Holmes voice*

Rated: Mature. | Contains sexual content and strong language. (You know? The usual from me. 😁) | Bolded and/or italicized words are conversations and thoughts of the characters. | Main Characters: Roman (LI) and Naia Evans (MC) | All Characters and names: (except MC and original characters created by me) are property of Pixelberry.

Current Word Count: 2,325 words. (more or less. I stop counting after editing and re-editing. 🤷🏾‍♀️)

Tag List: @shewillreadyou @rideordiechronicles @bebepac @blackkingliamstan @aussieez @pixie88 @imturaxamara @txemrn @lucy-268 @texaskitten30 @shannonsaid @shannonwrote @chutchoices @twistedjaee @lababynina @choicesficwriterscreations

This series is rated Mature. It is NOT reading material that is safe for those under 18. Reader discretion is STRONGLY advised!

This series may contain spoilers. If you wish not to see spoilers, please do not read any further.

(Also this series is a slight deviation of the original story. In the original story, the werewolf hunter is a woman. But in this series the hunter is a man.)

Missing a chapter or want to read a chapter again? I got you covered! Click ——> Here!

If you’d like to be added to my tag list. Just reblog or dm me and I will gladly add you! 😁😘

Chapter 25.) Shockwave.

Naia was finally being released from the hospital. And she couldn't wait to get back to the house where she could lay in a real bed and eat real food.

“Freedom! No more IV! No more waking up at 5 in the morning to draw blood! No more vital checks every hour! I am free!” she sang as her daddy wheeled her to the elevator.

“Keep it down! You don't want to disturb the other patients.”

“Can I help it if I'm happy and freeeeee?”

Shane shook his head and chuckled.

“Fair enough. And once we get you back to the house you can really celebrate.”

“What are we waiting for?! Let's go!”

Shane was happy to see his daughter in better spirits. It had been a rough few days for her but at least she was getting out of the hospital. While Naia and Shane were on their way back, Laurie took advantage of the time she had at the house to go up to the attic and look for some of her old things.

The attic was dark thanks in part to the light being busted, just another thing to add to the list of projects to be some on the house and the only window being blocked by a stack of boxes. But she could still see as clear as day. While it was odd she didn't mind and went on searching.

Rummaging through a dust and spider web-covered box, she found old photos of her, Zane’s old polaroid camera, pictures of her parents that weren't in the old family album, an old teddy bear, old clothes that no longer fit, she even found a box with her old diaries. She ran her fingers over one of the old books that had stickers scribblings and doodles all on the outside of it. Tucking the box under her arm, she climbed down from the attic and went to sit out on the patio to read a few pages of what was her life.

Laurie took a deep breath as she pulled out one of the books. She pulled out the diary she had started in high school. In it were her innermost thoughts and feelings about her life at the time. Everything from making the cheerleading squad to the clubs she was in, to her job at the old drive-in theater, her best friend Joey, there were even sections on school dances and gossip.

It wasn't until she got to a section in the diary that she stopped reading and just held the book in her hands. This section was about two people. The man she loves and the man she wanted to forget. She got to the point that she had started writing about her relationships with both her husband and Xander. She started writing about Xander when she was 13 and started writing about Shane when she was 16. Her last entry was dated November 27th, 1986 the day she left town with Shane and never looked back.

She had prepared herself to read a page when she heard a car door shut. Her husband and daughter were back, so reading would have to wait. She set the book down just in time for Naia to walk through the door.

“Well look who it is! Welcome back, baby girl.”

Naia smiled at her mother.

“It's good to be out of the hospital. Did you miss me?”

“Nope. I actually enjoyed not having to hear moooooooom every 5 seconds.”

“Haha! Such a comedienne!”

The two laughed as Shane walked in.

“Alright princess. You’re back. Now will you please sit still?”

“I can try to daddy.”

Shane rolled his eyes. Naia noticed the book sitting on the table.

“What's that?”

“My old diary. I went up to the attic and started looking around and that's where I found it. Speaking of which…” Laurie trailed off as she looked towards her husband.

“Whatever it is, the answer is no.”

“Thank you, baby.”

Shane opened his mouth to reply but closed it then turned on his heel and headed inside to the attic door.

“You bully him too much mama.”

“You forget, baby. I'm the boss around here. Now, have a seat. Let me look at you.”

Naia sat down so her mother could give her a thorough inspection.

“Do you have to fuss over me?”

“Yes, I do. You just got out of the hospital Naia. Now hold still.”

Naia squirmed as her mother looked her over.

“Okay now that I've been efficiently looked over, maybe now we can get a look at this diary of yours.”

“We? Since when do you speak French?”

“Yeah we. I mean you've looked at mine.”

“I'm sorry, which one of us is the mother in this situation?”

“Come on mom! Please?”

“No. Besides, you won't like what I have to say about your daddy.”

“Is it bad?”

“I may have written about us in the back of his old car doing some very–”

“Okay! I get it! I'm sorry I asked.”

Laurie snickered as she watched Naia grimace.

“As I've told you before, your curiosity is gonna be the death of you.”

“So what did a young Laurie Roberts used to write about?”

“Everything under the sun.”

“Like?”

Laurie rolled her eyes.

“Love, life, and my pursuit of happiness.”

“You're no fun anymore.”

“If you must know, I did write about your father. Almost as much as I wrote about Xander.”

“Like what?”

Laurie shrugged before gazing down at the book.

“Like how I met your father and what my life was like when I bonded to Xander. Things like that.”

“Daddy told me that you two met at your old job.”

Laurie smiled softly.

“We did. I wanted nothing to do with him at first. But that never stopped one Shane Montell Evans.”

“That's what he said. So what changed?”

“He wouldn't take no for an answer. He and your uncles were always showing up at the old drive-in every Friday at the same time and parking space.”

“Yep. That sounds like daddy.”

“And after a while I guess I became curious about him.”

“What hooked you?”

Laurie sighed before losing herself in a memory.

“One particular Friday night my car wouldn't start, so Mr. Neal, who owned the old drive-in, let me leave it there til the next morning. Which meant that in the meantime I had to walk home.”

“Where was uncle Zane?”

“At that time probably fishing with Toby. That's when your dad and uncles rolled up and he offered to take me home after dropping them off at their old apartment building.”

“That sounds innocent enough.”

“I mean it was. When we pulled up he got out and opened my door for me. Said that no gentleman worth his weight in gold lets a lady open her car door or pump her gas.”

“So that's when he started saying that?”

“Yup. He even walked me to my door.”

“Ever the gentleman.”

“That's your daddy for you. Eventually, he and I started spending time together. And I found myself slowly falling in love with him. There was just one not so small problem.”

“Xander?”

“Yup. I told you werewolves are possessive and territorial. And none more than The Alpha. Especially when that Alpha is Xander. He was not only possessive and territorial but he had a jealous streak a mile long.”

“Yikes!”

“Xander and I at the time were on the outs so to speak. I was rebelling in his mind and he couldn't stand it. And your daddy became an escape for me.”

“You said that he didn't stand for insubordination.”

“He didn't but I was coming into my own at the time. And doing that included being around your dad as much as possible. Matter of fact one day, your daddy was picking me up after school from cheerleading practice. And when he brought me home, we sat in his car and talked for like 2 hours or so.”

“Oh boy…I feel a climax coming.”

“It is. The climax happened when he walked me to the front door.”

“What happened, mama?”

“I kissed Shane for the first time.”

Naia clutched her chest.

“Well damn! Look at you being a saucy little minx.”

“Watch your mouth girl! But yes, I kissed him. And I liked it. The problem is Xander caught us halfway through the kiss.”

“Uh oh!”

“Yeah. Xander was not the least bit happy. He, Benny, and Waylon stood at the tree line with their arms crossed and Xander had the meanest scowl on his face.”

Naia winced.

“I bet that was a sight to see.”

“Boy was it! When I tell you that Xander was furious with me. He dragged me back to the den and when we got to the entrance, he let me have it. And when he was done ripping me a whole new ass, he forbade me from ever seeing your daddy again.”

“Sheesh!”

Laurie shook her head with a chuckle.

“The problem with that was your daddy was always in town. I couldn't avoid him even if I wanted to. I saw Shane the next day and told him that I wasn't allowed to be around him and he scoffed at the idea. Said that I didn't belong to Xander, I'm my own person and I can make my own decisions.”

“Daddy had balls back in the day.”

Laurie snickered.

“And those balls nearly got him killed.”

The two laughed.

“How did you find out daddy was part of The Knights Of Ossory?”

“I suppose I found out the same way you did. My Alpha told me.”

“I bet it stung to learn the truth.”

“Big time. At first, I thought Xander told me because he was jealous of all the time your daddy and I were spending together. I figured it was his way of driving a wedge between us. But when I asked your father about it he confirmed it. It felt like a gut punch.”

“I know that feeling.”

“I was so angry at him. I cussed him out and told him that I wanted nothing to do with him. And you see how well that worked.”

Naia snickered.

“It's hard. This little book chronicles what it's like to be in love with two men at the same time.”

“And here I thought my life was messy.”

“Your life is messy. Way messier than mine.”

“How?”

“I learned the hard way what it means to be in love with The Alpha. It never ends well. And that's a heartbreak that I am trying to save you from.”

“I wish you would understand that Roman isn't Xander, mom.”

“He's still his son, Naia. The apple literally does not fall far from that kind of tree. Every single Alpha has been trained by their predecessor. Yours is no different. Everything your Alpha does, his ancestors have done. It is the way and order of The Pack. Now, I'm sure he's charming and has treated you extremely well. Hell, I'm sure the companionship and even the sex is amazing but all of that is only because you haven't been around him long.”

Naia sighed.

“I'm not trying to make the decision for you. I'm just trying to keep you from experiencing what I experienced with his father.”

“How far did things go with you and Xander?”

“Too far. I shouldn't have let it happen. I should have told him no that he had Delia. She's his mate, not me, but you never deny your Alpha what is his.”

“He claimed you as his mate?”

“Pack Law. He could claim as many as he saw fit.”

“Sheesh! Pack Law is horrible.”

“No one knew that better than me and Delia.”

“Can I tell you something?”

“You can tell me anything, baby girl.”

“When I was unconscious…I…I talked to Delia.”

Laurie was taken aback.

“How did you do that?”

“I spoke to her in the world between worlds.”

“You were in the ether?”

“I guess?”

Laurie nodded.

“What did you talk about?”

“You, Roman, Trent, and me and my connection to all of you.”

“I see.”

“She showed me what Xander looked like.”

“Did she?”

“Yeah. He and Roman could pass for twins.”

“Yup. Now you see why I said that Alpha is his daddy’s carbon copy.”

“Delia said I was brought here to heal.”

Laurie shook her head.

“There's a lot of healing that needs to be done.”

“Are you willing to let me try?”

“We’ll see.”

“That's not a no mama.”

“That's not a yes either.”

“I just wish I knew where to start.”

“I could give you a clue but you’re not gonna like it.”

“Why?”

“Because it involves your Alpha and how he became Alpha.”

“Well I mean I already know that part. He became Alpha because he's Xander’s son.”

“Yes. He's Xander’s son but he's not his first son.”

“What?!”

“Delia was pregnant before with another child. A boy. The true Alpha of The Pack.”

Naia’s eyes widened.

“Good joke mama.”

“It's no joke.”

“But it's impossible. If there was another before Roman, then he couldn't be Alpha.”

“Exactly. Becoming Alpha is almost the same as becoming King in England. It's done by hierarchy.”

“I don't understand.”

“Remember when I told you everything with Xander changed when I turned 16?”

“Yeah. What about it?”

“That's part of the reason why.”

“But how?”

“Your Alpha was born June 18th, 1986. The first baby was born on May 9th, 1984.”

“But that means…”

Laurie shook her head.

“That's not even the worst part.”

“What do you mean mama?”

“I was the one who was tasked with killing the first baby.”

Naia was stunned.

“My God…you wouldn't…you couldn't…”

“You heard me loud and clear.”

Naia had a look of heartbreak and confusion on her face. She couldn't believe what her mother just confessed to.

#choices #khoicesbyk #pixelberry #choices stories you play #choices fanfiction #fanfic #wolf bride #fics of the week #choices fic writers creations

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imaginaryelle · 4 years

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Fic: Near Misses and Almost Kisses

AKA Five (plus one) Times Wangxian Could Have Kissed and Totally Fucking Did: A Retelling of CQL Through Missing Scene Kisses

Many thanks to @theflowergirl for initially prompting this fic ages and ages ago (pre-covid. wow.) and also to @morphia-writes for cheerleading and beta work while I struggled to get back into writing this past month. <3!

(this is ~6k and also available as a chaptered fic on AO3. Link coming soon)

[One: Gusu]

Lan Wangji was not looking for company on this journey, and he especially wasn’t looking for the loud, insistent and impossible-to-ignore company of Wei Ying of Yunmeng-Jiang. There have been enough rules broken, enough disruptions to the orderly patterns of his days and thoughts. Finding the other Yin Iron shards is a time-sensitive task with no room for flighty delays. He had, in fact, been looking forward to having some time to clear his head. Time to meditate, and reflect, and maybe dull down the memory of Wei Ying’s earnest, sincere promise, burning brighter in his mind than their Qixi lantern ever glowed against the sky. Time to wrap and re-wrap his sleeves, and maybe forget the winding, binding pull of his forehead ribbon around his wrist and the brush of Wei Ying’s knuckles against the back of his hand.

But instead Wei Ying is here. Talking. Loudly. Incessantly. Chattering about Yunmeng, and all the ways to eat lotus, and the best techniques to use when fighting water ghouls or a possessed alligator. Standing close enough that their elbows keep brushing. Jostling his shoulder and grinning at him like they’re sharing a joke and calling him Lan Zhan, like no one else in the world.

It should be annoying. Enraging that someone would so simply and carelessly step over so many boundaries.

Sometimes it is.

Sometimes it’s … not.

Lan Wangji does not tell him to leave. Not at the pier, not on the boat through the long, foggy afternoon. Not in the dwindling twilight as they make camp: clear the ground, set a ward, nurse a small cookfire. Not as they eat a simple meal of sesame qi zi rolls and tea and the loquats Wei Ying brought with him.

And after, still Wei Ying stays close, never more than three steps away, and sits even closer. Close enough that their knees just don’t quite touch. But instead of introducing some game, or talking more, he sighs, and closes his eyes, and … meditates.

One day, perhaps, he will run out of ways to surprise Lan Wangji. For now, they pass a quiet, peaceful stretch of time without any more pressing interruptions than the call of a hawk overhead and the rustle of small creatures moving through the underbrush.

Even after that, when Wei Ying starts moving again—rustling cloth and soft footsteps—he doesn’t speak. It’s unexpectedly thoughtful, as if he’s doing his best not to disturb Lan Wangji’s own meditations. Then come the familiar sounds and smells of ink grinding against stone, and the soft crinkle of paper. After a while Wei Ying starts humming, low and under his breath.

Lan Wangji opens his eyes to find Wei Ying backlit by the smoldering fire, a brush in his hand and his focus entirely on the strip of paper before him. To his left is a line of paper strips, fresh ink shining on each one. Talismans, Lan Wangji realizes. Each imbued with a touch of power. It’s not an invocation he’s seen before. He tries to get a better look, and Wei Ying looks up at him.

“Want to see?” he asks, grinning. Lan Wangji draws back, but Wei Ying picks up the driest of the talismans and holds it out to him for examination.

Scattered bursts of power, shaped and directed outward from the caster. A touch of fire. Enough intent and energy to damage a ward, distract a spirit, or leave minor burns on an enemy. He’s trying to make out the shape itself when Wei Ying draws the paper back and flicks it into the air.

Bright, fiery butterflies ascend into the space above their heads, trailing orange sparks until they wink out like distant stars.

“You can have one, if you like.” Lan Wangji slowly returns his gaze to his companion. “I know your sword work is very good,” Wei Ying is saying, “but everyone can use a bit of surprise on their side, right?”

Lan Wangji’s fingers itch. He’s never seen anyone use talismans the way Wei Ying does, and he does want to study this one further. And yet. “There’s no need,” he says.

“Even so.” Wei Ying smiles. He sorts through his papers, picking out two. “These are for you.” He holds them out for a moment, then sighs when Lan Wangji makes no move to take them. “Lan Zhan,” he says, “Are you one of those cultivators who thinks talismans are just toys for those with low spiritual power? Little party tricks for those not able to work a seal directly?”

Denial sticks in his throat. He has heard others voice such thoughts, and “toys” certainly describes how Wei Ying uses them, but it’s not a fair judgment to speak aloud.

“Why butterflies?” he asks instead.

“I like butterflies.” Wei Ying’s expression twists, perhaps wistful. “We have lots of them in Yunmeng.” This does not seem to require a response, but Lan Wangji must be missing something, because Wei Ying sighs and pulls the talismans back. “Do you not trust my gifts anymore? How about a trade then? I give you some talismans, and you give me something you think is a fair trade. Better?”

He looks—annoyed, but somehow Lan Wangji still feels like he’s being teased in some way; there’s some joke he’s not getting as Wei Ying sits just a handspan away, limned in firelight and offering him butterflies with an expectant expression and Lan Wangji wants—

It’s not a good kiss, Lan Wangji is certain, and it’s not really anything like the impulsive thoughts that have littered his waking hours over the last few days, but the touch of Wei Ying’s lips still steals the breath from his lungs and narrows his focus in a way meditation and sword forms never have. Wei Ying is softness and warmth and, for a moment, the orbital center of the Heavens, as far as Lan Wangji is concerned.

He leans back, his heart beating as fast as dragonfly wings. Wei Ying stares at him with wide, dark eyes.

“That was …” his hand rises, and he touches his fingertips to his lips. “That was my first kiss.”

Lan Wangji’s pulse thrums faster at that, if that’s possible. He’d been certain, certain that someone as brash and forward as Wei Ying would have been kissed before now.

“Mine also,” he admits, and the surprise in Wei Ying’s eyes would be comical if Lan Wangji had not so obviously spent his entire life distanced from his peers, if he had not so clearly displayed his disinterest in most companionship. He thinks Wei Ying must be making fun of him again, that perhaps he lied to elicit this confession and—

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying protests, “My talismans aren’t worth your first kiss!”

Lan Wangji had forgotten about the talismans. They are not currently carrying any prominence in his thoughts.

“It was Wei Ying’s first kiss also,” he returns, daring him to deny it and reveal the ruse.

But he doesn’t. He just sort of stares for long enough that Lan Wangji looks away, shame rising in his throat. He had hoped—it doesn’t matter what he hoped. The kiss was obviously a misstep, and now he has achieved the dual consequences of pushing Wei Ying away while revealing his own weakness. Perhaps he should leave in the morning, before Wei Ying wakes. Perhaps by the time they see each other again this will be forgotten, or at least—at least—

“A second kiss,” Wei Ying says, sudden and much louder than necessary. Lan Wangji looks back at him and waits, hardening himself against further disappointments.

“Two first kisses is an even trade, right?” Wei Ying says. He’s wearing the same sort of eager, coaxing expression he’d had in the library, trying to explain once again how he couldn’t possibly be at fault for climbing over Cloud Recesses’ walls after curfew and drinking alcohol in front of the Wall of Discipline. “Your first kiss for my first kiss. But a second kiss could be… hm.” he frowns. “No this is...” He turns away, rummaging through his papers for a moment and then holds them out triumphantly—six of them. “Six talismans,” Wei Ying says, grinning, “for your second kiss?”

Lan Wangji looks from the talismans to his face, to his lips. Even with shame burning in his center it had felt—it had been—He should have more self-restraint than this. He has more self-restraint than this, with everyone, it seems, except Wei Ying.

He nods, hardly daring to breathe, and Wei Ying scoots closer on his knees. This time, Lan Wangji stays where he is and Wei Ying touches his face with careful fingertips, his expression hardly visible with his body blocking most of the firelight, and then he bends slightly and their lips touch. It is a slow, gentle kiss, more mixing of breath than lips, and the longer it goes on the more Lan Wangji’s fear that this will turn into a new opportunity at provocation melts away. He lifts his own hand to Wei Ying’s jaw and opens his mouth, and lets himself concentrate on only this: warm breath, and softly brushing lips, and the rush of Wei Ying’s heartbeat at his fingertips.

[Two: Qinghe]

By the time they make it to Qinghe, Lan Wangji has retreated so far into stoic silence that Wei Wuxian is a little surprised he’s not leaving a trail of frost wherever he goes. He looks cold enough for it. Frosty and aloof and unapproachable as a distant mountain, with glares so icy they could burn. Nothing like as soft and warm and close as he’d been when it was just the two of them traveling together, before Nie Huaisang joined them in Tanzhou, before Jiang Cheng found them on Dafan Mountain, before they met Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen and volunteered to haul Xue Yang all the way to the Unclean Realm for judgement. He’s barely spoken to anyone other than Nie Mingjue, the last few days. Barely looked at Wei Wuxian at all since they left the Chang Clan’s former residence.

There had been a moment, watching Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen walk away together, when Wei Wuxian’s old memories of his mother had slipped from his thoughts to make way for new memories—the brush of Lan Wangji’s fingers against his cheek, the touch of their lips meeting in the night and the thud of his own pulse threatening to overwhelm him.

He doesn’t know for sure that Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen have that, but sometimes he remembers those two figures walking together, one in black and one in white, and want is so heavy in his lungs it turns bitter in his mouth.

But that’s when the silence started, he thinks. Lan Wangji hadn’t said a single word to him all that long afternoon.

The point is, he’s pretty much resigned himself to never getting to kiss Lan Wangji again, because Lan Wangji has clearly remembered that he dislikes Wei Wuxian and also everyone else Wei Wuxian associates with and the concept of fun, in general. But Wei Wuxian is not giving up. He said they were going to be friends and so they’re going to be friends; Lan Wangji is too interesting a person to not be friends with, at a minimum. He’ll just have to work harder at it, and bide his time, and he’s sure Lan Wangji will come around. They could be the best of friends, and then maybe Wei Wuxian could bring it up—hey, remember that time you kissed me?—and if it goes poorly he can laugh it off. What a funny thing, why don’t more people know that you’re funny, Lan Zhan?

It’s a plan, anyway. A plan that gets entirely shattered to pieces when Lan Wangji steps out of his guest quarters, and looks at Wei Wuxian lying on the roof and babbling some nonsense about relative roof tile comfort, and jumps up to join him.

For a single breathless moment Wei Wuxian thinks Lan Wangji might draw his sword. That he’s pushed too far, this is it, all potential positive feelings towards himself have been erased in Lan Wangji’s mind, but no. No, instead Lan Wangji just sits next to him, inside the stretched curve of Wei Wuxian’s frame. Close enough to touch.

Everyone else is asleep. Wei Wuxian knows it, because it’s the entire reason he’s outside, drinking alone, instead of inside with jovial company and more wine.

Well. Not so alone, now.

Lan Wangji glows in the starlight, pale and luminous as anything gracing the heavens.

You look like the moon, Wei Wuxian wants to say, come drink with me, follow me, dance with me, but he doesn’t say that. That would be—too much, he thinks.

“Wei Ying,” says Lan Wangji.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian says back. The ice is melting from Lan Wangji’s posture, slipping away until the space between them feels warm. Charged like lightning.

“I will return to Gusu,” Lan Wangji says, and Wei Wuxian nods, his hand gripped tight around his bottle of wine.

“To help your brother,” he confirms. He raises the bottle and drinks, and wonders if he’s imagining the way Lan Wangji’s gaze follows the motion to linger on his mouth. He swallows. “I suppose we all have to go home eventually.”

“Mn.”

Lan Wangji is still watching him. He’s tempted to sit up. To reach out and tug on those pale robes and draw Lan Wangji even closer.

He sets the wine aside. Meets Lan Wangji’s gaze.

“Do you want—” he can’t finish the question. Lan Wangji moves fluidly, even now, far from any battle they might fight. He is so close now that Wei Wuxian can see nothing else but his eyes, his face, his mouth. His fingers curl around Wei Wuxian’s wrist, and Wei Wuxian leans into him, into the kiss that he’d thought he wouldn’t be getting.

This one is different. Deeper. Longer. Lan Wangji’s grip on his wrist is tight, his fingers on Wei Wuxian’s jaw firm and steady. Something golden and liquid is happening to Wei Wuxian’s spine as Lan Wangji’s tongue slips past his lips and it doesn’t have anything to do with the wine. He can’t stop the sound he makes, too genuine to be laughed away.

Lan Wangji draws back, draws his tongue back and his lips back and his hands back, and Wei Wuxian only barely catches himself from slipping flat onto the roof tiles.

“Lan Zhan …” Words slip away from him. All he wants is more touch. His body feels molten, edges disappearing from his awareness.

Lan Wangji’s lips are pink. He’s flushing to his ears. His hands are in his lap, curled into tight fists.

There’s something Wei Wuxian’s forgetting. Oh.

“I don’t have anything to give you this time,” he says. Lan Wangji won’t want whatever remains of his wine and this—for this kiss—he doesn’t know what he could possibly give in exchange.

Lan Wangji blinks, a hint of confusion in his face. Then it clears.

“Promise you will not be reckless,” he says, and Wei Wuxian huffs an incredulous laugh.

“I’m not reckless,” he protests, sitting up properly as if that will better support his point. “Lan Zhan!”

Lan Wangji simply looks at him. He’s looking less kissed with every second, which is a true shame.

“Fine,” Wei Wuxian allows. “I promise to not be reckless. But.” He leans across the small distance between them and presses another kiss to Lan Wangji’s lips. It’s longer than he means it to be, and when he pulls back his voice sounds strained and breathless in his own ears.

“You promise me too,” he says, half-whispered. “You don’t be reckless either.”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji agrees, and there’s an actual smile drawn at the corners of his eyes. “I promise.”

[Three: Dusk Creek Mountain]

Lan Wangji has faced endurance trials before. Lan cultivation training is full to brimming with them, and where before he knew that such trials would bring him strength, and patience, and clarity in adverse circumstances, he is now deeply, terribly grateful for them.

If he must endure the uncertainty that clouds his brother’s fate, the danger that still clings to his uncle and his entire clan and sect, the open derision of the Wens and the pall of pain and death that haunts every step he takes on a broken leg—at least he has trained to do so, every day of his life. At least he has years of practice to keep him standing straight and tall and unbending, here in this place that smells of sulphur and smoke and stinks of power so tainted and warped that his skin crawls with it.

He has little such practice in enduring Wei Ying’s probing inquiries. Enduring his careful glances and fidgeting hands and the worry in his voice as he says Lan Wangji’s name, over and over, half-whispered.

He knows something must show in his face when they take his sword, from the change in that voice. The next morning, when Wei Ying recites the Lan rules instead of the Wen proverbs, he dearly wishes he could slip back in time, weeks ago, and kiss Wei Ying again, and again, as if, if he never left that rooftop in Qinghe, none of this would have happened.

He can’t speak. No matter what Wei Ying asks, he can’t speak. If he opens his mouth everything will spill out at once. Everything—the Yin iron, and his uncle and brother and sect and the fires that consumed hundreds of years of Lan history as he was dragged from his home—he won’t be able to stop it. There might even be tears involved. He’s stretched too thin, likely to break like porcelain with sharp edges to cut the unwary.

Their closeness is noticed. He can’t stop Wen Chao throwing Wei Ying in a dungeon that afternoon. The fears that haunt him until the next morning are not much soothed by the blood on Wei Ying’s robes when he returns, no matter how he smiles and chatters.

It can’t go on. He won’t bear it. Lan Wangji’s rebellions are small, and thus insignificant to Wen Chao, but they are still victories in self-restraint. He does not speak, and so no one will hear the fear and anger in his voice. He does not read the Wen Precepts, and so no one can ever say that he would replace the Lan’s, no matter what other claims the Wen make. He walks unaided, and so there will be no favors left unpaid. Even Wei Ying’s offer of help he pushes away. Better to cut such things off now, than to draw disaster down on him again.

Wei Ying walks by his side regardless. Brings him water. Stays in the terrible cave Wen Chao sealed them in, when escape is well within his reach.

Touches his forehead ribbon, entirely ignorant of its meaning. Tends his wounds.

He can’t keep his silence any longer. Wei Ying is injured, and in pain, and never thinks of himself first. He needs taking care of, too. They are alone. If he breaks now only Wei Ying will see, and Wei Ying will never tell.

“You promised to not be reckless,” Lan Wangji says when the medicine is used up.

“I’m not reckless,” Wei Ying insists, shaking out his overrobe near their tiny fire so it will dry faster. “Lan Zhan,” he pouts, then winces as the brand on his chest pains him again. “When was I reckless?”

“Drawing attention,” Lan Wangji tells him. “Reciting the Lan Precepts. Insulting Wen Chao.” He gestures at Wei Ying’s wound. “Taking an attack meant for another without deflection.”

“That’s not recklessness, that’s righteousness,” Wei Ying asserts. He grins. “I would have thought that Lan Clan would know the difference. And besides, Lan Zhan, you promised me, too, and I saw you step in front of Mianmian. If I was reckless so were you.”

Lan Wangji looks away.

“She’s pretty,” Wei Ying says. There’s a questioning edge to the words that sends cold plummeting through Lan Wangji’s gut. Wei Ying just looks at him, all earnestness in his eyes. “Don’t you think she’s pretty, Lan Zhan?”

He hadn’t noticed, really. She was protective of her sect’s heir, and decently eloquent. Perhaps too free with gossip, as it had been her question that eventually sparked Wei Ying and Jin Zixuan’s fight at Cloud Recesses, months and months ago now.

“She did not deserve to be killed for bait,” he says.

“Or branded either,” Wei Ying is saying. “It’d be a shame, a pretty girl like that with a scar on her face for the rest of her life.”

Lan Wangji stares at him. At the smile he is somehow still wearing. The cold reaches into Lan Wangji’s lungs. His ribs. The fire brings him no warmth.

“It is not better for you to carry the scar instead,” he points out.

“But it’s not on my face,” Wei Ying counters. “Besides, it’s different for men. A man should get a few scars in his life, anyway.”

It is possibly the stupidest thing Lan Wangji has ever heard him say. If this is among the teachings of the Yunmeng-Jiang Sect, he thinks it might go some way towards explaining Jiang Wanyin. But Wei Ying is still talking.

“Even if I do have to carry it forever, it marks that I once protected a girl who will never forget me her whole life! That’s sort of beautiful, don’t you think?”

Lan Wangji has no idea what’s supposed to be beautiful about it. He feels a bit like the ground has slipped out from underneath his feet, the foundation he built himself on crumbling on all sides and now a handhold he hadn’t realized he was gripping so tightly is also turning to sand beneath his fingers.

“So you know she’ll never forget you,” he says, the words like acid on his tongue, and Wei Ying startles.

“Why are you mad?” he asks, as if he cannot even guess. Lan Wangji stares at the fire and wishes he were anywhere else. Wishes he had never kissed Wei Ying even once. Even that first time.

“If you don’t mean it,” he says, forcing the words over his teeth as ice rises in his throat, “you shouldn’t flirt with anyone.”

“I—what—”

Wei Ying is silent for a long time. When Lan Wangji looks at him he’s frowning.

“Saving someone isn’t flirting,” he says finally. “And if it’s flirting with you you’re worried about you can just say so. I’ll stop if you say so.”

“Don’t,” Lan Wangji blurts, almost before the sentence is done. And Wei Ying … smiles. A real smile, that reaches his eyes and makes his whole face scrunch up a bit. A smile Lan Wangji hasn’t seen in weeks, that warms him like sunlight.

“Okay,” Wei Ying agrees. “I won’t then.” And then, because he is utterly shameless, he says, “I think my robe is dry now. Are you cold? You look cold, I could cover you with it,” and he leans close to do so without waiting for an answer.

Lan Wangji lets him. He’s too tired to move away, and he doesn’t really want to. He grabs Wei Ying’s wrist, caught between them, and tugs him closer.

“Wei Ying should be warm also,” he says to the questioning look that earns him, and Wei Ying smiles again and sighs. His body is a line of heat against Lan Wangji’s side.

“Alright Lan Zhan,” he says, and his voice is low and soft and close, intimate as a secret.

If he speaks again, Lan Wangji doesn’t hear it. Instead he wakes hours later to find that Wei Ying has returned his forehead ribbon to its rightful place, and explored the wretched pond in the bottom of this cave, and is once again drying himself out.

They are trapped. It will likely be days before they can be rescued. They could die of starvation first, or be killed when the Wens return.

Or they could die fighting.

For luck, Wei Ying says, his voice bright and dancing like butterflies through the telepathy spell. He cups his hand around the back of Lan Wangji’s neck and kisses him, a quick brush of heat, and then he steps away, towards the pond, and there are far more immediate things to think about.

The battle is one of the fiercest of Lan Wangji’s life, but it is clear, afterwards, that Wei Ying sacrificed more than Lan Wangji guessed he would to see the Xuanwu slain. He is clearly unwell, so unwell as to be bad at hiding it, cold and clammy as fever rises through his blood. His breath comes in gasps, his speech slowed and confused.

“Lan Zhan,” he says, through teeth stained with blood, “I didn’t really think I would survive this.”

“You must,” Lan Wangji tells him. He begins passing spiritual energy into Wei Ying’s wrist, everything he can spare. Some he probably can’t. But anything Wei Ying needs, he will give. Spiritual energy. Physical warmth.

A song, though this is far from his idle daydreams of its debut.

They cannot last long like this. Wei Ying slips into dreams from which he can’t be woken, and Lan Wangji draws him close and cradles him carefully as exhaustion settles into his own bones and sinew.

He kisses Wei Ying’s forehead, salt sweat stinging at his dry, cracked lips.

“You must live,” he rasps, his voice all but gone now. “Promise me you’ll live, Wei Ying.”

[Four: Qishan]

Many things are different, after Wen Chao throws Wei Wuxian into the Mass Graves. Most things. The whole course of his life, taking a turn onto a new path. And really, Wei Wuxian is fine with that. He is. He still has Shijie and Jiang Cheng and he’s still friends with Nie Huaisang, even if he has to keep them all a bit more distant than before and even if they can tell something’s wrong, and he has food and a bed with an actual mattress, and even power. Power no one else can claim.

That power makes up for a lot of things, and it and Jiang Cheng’s barely-there smile and continued efforts at rebuilding the Yunmeng-Jiang Sect leave him with no regrets whatsoever, though he was pretty sure he’d had no regrets before, anyway.

Well. Only one regret.

Lan Wangji is avoiding him.

Okay, no, that’s not true. Not anymore, anyway. The weeks-stretching-to-months of the Sunshot Campaign were a particular kind of torture that Wei Wuxian knows he can only blame himself for, but now … now, Lan Wangji wants to help him, and is spending a great deal of time at his guqin. On the other side of the room. Telling Wei Wuxian to “be quiet” and “concentrate” as if that was going to help anything.

His face when he’d come in—Wei Wuxian couldn’t look at him, could hardly stand to sit on the bed with his hands under his thighs and mouth clamped shut in the face of that—that—whatever emotion it was that made Lan Wangji’s eyes so soft, made his lips part and the tension in his shoulders drop so suddenly. And then Shijie had left them alone and—

Well. For a moment there Wei Wuxian expected he was going to be kissed. Lan Wangji had obviously been worried, and visiting often, and ….

But that didn’t happen. No kisses for Wei Wuxian, apparently. Not since the Xuanwu cave, and that barely counted. No kisses since he still had a golden core.

Just guqin music. And meditation.

He tries. He does. He can still benefit from meditation and he knows it, and Lan Wangj’s skill at the guqin is never unpleasant to listen to and so he tries.

For about the time it takes to drink a cup of tea. That picture of Lan Wangji’s face keeps painting itself on the back of his eyelids. He can’t sit still any longer. He stands.

“Lan Zhan,” he says, “I’m fine.”

Lan Wangji is not convinced. Every movement as he approaches shows it. He is stern and straight-backed and righteous.

“Three more days are needed,” he insists.

“Three days!” Wei Wuxian won’t survive three days of sitting on opposite sides of a room, meditating to music. He won’t. Although …

“Lan Zhan,” he pouts. Entirely for effect, despite the way it makes Lan Wangji go even stiffer and more righteous instead of softening in indulgence the way Shijie does. “Three days is so long. Aren’t you even going to offer me a kiss, asking for so much time?”

Lan Wangji’s entire demeanor changes. The soft eyes and parted lips are back, and his fingers curl in his sleeves. Wei Wuxian risks a step closer.

“One kiss?” he asks. Another step.

“A kiss per day? A kiss per hour?” He grins, close enough now to reach out and touch. Or be touched.

“Lan Zhan,” he whispers, “Would you kiss me after every song you play? Or every minute? Every—”

Lan Wangji’s hands are on his face, his thumbs pressed against Wei Wuxian’s cheekbones and his fingers cupping Wei Wuxian’s ears. His mouth is hot, his tongue is hot, and in Wei Wuxian’s mouth, and it is taking a lot of effort for Wei Wuxian to stay on his feet. He thinks his knees might have melted, somehow. It would hardly be the strangest thing that’s ever happened to him and he doesn’t really care. Lan Wangji’s lips and tongue and breath are more than enough to fill the moment in its entirety.

When Lan Wangji pulls back, Wei Wuxian is holding onto his wrists. Nearly hanging from them.

“Kiss me again,” he whispers. “Again, Lan Zhan.”

For a moment, Lan Wangji’s eyes are liquid with want and his mouth is soft and pink and so very close. And then he steps back, and lets go of Wei Wuxian’s face, and shakes Wei Wuxian’s grip from his sleeves.

“Meditation first,” he insists.

[Five: Yiling]

Every part of this meeting has been unsettling. Lan Wangji had passed through Yiling for several reasons—rumors of nearby disturbances, it is the largest town near to where his most recent night hunt ended, and the road to Gusu goes through it—but all of these lead to Wei Ying. Even crying children in the street lead to Wei Ying.

The golden swell of hope that was growing under his ribs during their shared meal has long since withdrawn, pulled back and away like the tide by the stark reality of Wei Ying’s circumstances. There will be no convincing him to leave these people now. He has done the impossible, in Wen Qionglin’s resurrection, and he is obviously fond of both Wen Qing and Wen Yuan, but the true issue is that any goals he has for this settlement, its people, or his own life’s path are being smothered by the very real absence of necessary protections, money, food, and medicine.

No tea for guests. No hope that he will see his sister’s wedding. Resentment on all sides, from the restless dead within the mountain and the determined gossips without.

Lan Wangji finds he cannot look at Wen Qionglin for any reasonable length of time. His presence is a prickly burr against the background fog of corruption the Mass Graves generate, at odds with his deferential bows and careful presentation of what poor hospitality this place can offer.

Lan Wangji does not drink the water. He thinks his stomach would not tolerate it, and he shies away from the thought. Water from the hands of a corpse, sourced, undoubtedly, from this land that has been poisoned with resentment for generations. No one should live here. It is only one of many things that should not happen, but is happening anyway.

Wen Qionglin and his sister do not linger long. There is little to say, and even basic formalities cannot be observed without the right supplies. They greet him, formally, with careful bows, and welcome him, and melt back and away, leaving him once again alone with Wei Ying in a cave that smells only slightly better than the one they killed the Xuanwu in.

He will ask once more. He must.

“Wei Ying—”

Further speech is impeded by Wei Ying’s lips on his, the kiss soft and beseeching. Need in the rigid press of Wei Ying’s fingers on Lan Wangji’s shoulders.

“Do me a favor, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying murmurs against his mouth, pressing more kisses to his skin like wet ink to paper, and Lan Wangji wants nothing more than to soak him in, draw him up and keep him.

Wei Ying presses their faces together, forehead to forehead, nose to nose.

“Don’t ask again,” he murmurs, and kisses the corner of Lan Wangji’s mouth, and steps away.

For a single, wild moment, Lan Wangji considers staying here. Staying with Wei Ying, and these fugitives he has thrown himself in with, and offering any aid he can: the small handful of coins he still carries, the strength of his arms and back, whatever healing his spiritual energy and music can offer.

The impulse slips away quickly. Wei Ying is clearly shepherding him away from the cave, away from the settlement. Beyond the gates. He keeps his movements perfectly contained. Distanced. Separate. Always a respectable space kept between them as they walk, even as he asks—can anyone give me a nice, favorable choice?—the strain of the question clear in his voice.

Even as he says thank you, for a visit Lan Wangji is almost certain has only brought him pain.

It’s Wen Yuan who interrupts them before Lan Wangji can sort out the words he wants. Wen Yuan who asks him to stay.

Wei Ying, who takes the child in his arms and tells him Lan Wangji must leave.

Lan Wangji looks at Wen Yuan’s tiny hand, held securely in Wei Ying’s careful grip. He watches Wei Ying’s face. There is resignation there, but determination, too.

There is nothing left to say.

Another set of hands is also another mouth to feed. He can be of more use to Wei Ying as he is now: separated by distance, but not intent. He is the son of a great sect, the brother of a sect leader, and he has reputation of his own to call on. Somehow, he will find a way to bring Wei Ying back into the world.

Someday, he’ll be back with better news.

[+1: The Jingshi]

Sixteen years.

Wei Wuxian would be tempted to write that number off as an elaborate joke if it weren’t for Jin Ling, so obviously grown up and full of pride. Cloud Recesses doesn’t show the passage of time, either from the time he’s been dead or the damage it suffered before that. He could almost believe, here in this room, that no time has passed at all. Here he is in Cloud Recesses, which looks and sounds and smells just the same as it always has in his memories of that summer before the war. Here he is, convalescing in bed, and there is Lan Wangji on the other side of the room at his guqin, just as they were after it.

There are still differences. He has never seen Lan Wangji this quietly at home in a place. So settled. So comfortable. His hair half-down should make him look younger, but Wei Wuxian can see his jaw is sharper now, his shoulders somehow broader, like he’s grown to fit his bones in a way that’s not quite physical. There are new lines in his face, faint as they are. Around his eyes, mostly. The touch of a life, extended.

His skill at the guqin has improved. Or perhaps it’s just that Wei Wuxian himself is a more appreciative audience now, here on the other side of confusion and tragedy and death. He’d like to think he’s learned something from the experience, even if he doesn’t really remember a lot of it.

He watches Lan Wangji’s fingers, over the strings. Watches his face, clear as a still pond.

“Lan Zhan,” he says. He swallows past the tightness in his throat. “Do you remember the last time you played for me?”

The hands still.

“Yes.” There is still something of that soft-eyed look in his eyes, even with the year, and the new lines. Something familiar in the tightening of his lips, an echo of the last kiss they shared.

Lan Wangji stands, and crosses the dark floorboards between them. He sits at the edge of the bed, quiet and composed and every inch the cultivator Wei Wuxian always knew he would be, too good to end anywhere else, too principled to let his steps go astray. The silence between them is warm, now. Knowing.

“Ah, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian says, trying for levity and ending somewhere far too low-voiced and genuine. “You’re too good to me. How will I thank you?”

Lan Wangi watches him, dark-eyed and intent. “A favor,” he says, and reaches up between them, presses his thumb to the corner of Wei Wuxian’s mouth. “A promise,” as the touch sweeps across Wei Wuxian’s lips.

Wei Wuxian swallows again. He doesn’t know what he might do, if he allows himself to move, so he doesn’t move at all.

Lan Wangji’s hand falls away. He folds his sleeve carefully to the side and raises his eyes once more.

“Stay,” he says, hardly even a whisper.

Wei Wuxian laughs. It spills out of him, surprise and joy and rushing thrill strumming through him.

“Of course!” He shifts closer, onto his knees, and takes Lan Wangji’s hand in both of his own. “Of course I’ll stay, Lan Zhan,” he says, and he seals the promise with a kiss.

#wangxian #wangxian fic #the untamed #chen qing ling #cql #kissing #that's it just kissing really #alex writes

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lcdrarry · 4 years

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LCDrarry 2020 Master List

Dear lovely Participants, Creators, Alpha and Beta Readers, Commentors, Cheerleaders, Readers and Fans of our fest,

Our 2nd installment of LCDrarry is coming to an end, and we'd like to thank you all for taking part in our little fest, for creating so many amazing new Drarry works for us all to enjoy, for commenting on your favourite creations, for sharing and recommending the LCDrarry gems with your friends and blog followers, and for making this fest another amazing experience for us mods.

We hope we could bring you some joy and diversion in these trying times and send you lots of love, strength and perseverance wherever you are :*

Under the cut, you can find out who created what ;D The works are listed in the order they posted during the fest.

Happy reading & squeeing & don’t forget to follow your favourite creators!

~Your LCDrarry Mods Tami @celilasart and Suzi @erin-riwen

PS: Reblogs are very much appreciated <3

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Love, Actually, is All Around

Prompt: #180 | "Love, Actually" - 2003 - Richard Curtis Author: punk_rock_yuppie Word Count: 9,975 words Rating: Teen and Up Warnings: Wizarding Politics, Discriminiation, Slight power imbalance

Summary: It's Christmastime, and Harry has just started as the new Minister of Magic. It just so happens that Draco happens to work in his office as well, a holdover from Kingsley's tenure. Naturally, love is in the air.

Read "Love, Actually, is All Around" now on AO3.

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Drarry on Ice

Prompt: #150 | '"Yuuri!!! On Ice" - 2016 - Series Artist: RunningOutsideTheLines Art Medium: Traditional Art Rating: General Warnings: none

Summary: Harry and Draco find love on the ice. I love Yuuri on Ice and Harry and Draco seem like such a perfect fit for Victor and Yuuri. I'll leave it up to your imagination as far as which is which. This image is from the final scene when the two of them do a exhibition skate together.

View "Drarry on Ice" now on AO3.

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Boats, but Not the Ocean

Prompt: #203 | "Groundhog Day" - 1993 - Harold Ramis Author: p1013 Word Count: 15,551 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Very minor mention of suicide, some mild horror

Summary: If Draco ever gets his hands on this Bill Murray character, he's going to kill him.

Read "Boats, but Not the Ocean" now on AO3.

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When I Put My Eyes On You

Prompt: #193 | "The Way He Looks" - 2014 - Daniel Ribeiro Author: Zzzara Word Count: 31,155 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Summary: When a hero defeats a villain, there's supposed to be a happily-ever-after... but when did anything ever happen to Harry Potter the way it was supposed to? Having sacrificed himself to the greater good, Harry is left alone in the darkness, blindly groping for the shreds of the life he knew. When the enemies meet, how is the story supposed to go, once they learn there's more to it than the eye can see? A story of pain, hope and things we discover, once we stop looking for them with our eyes.

Read "When I Put My Eyes On You" now on AO3.

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Spellbound

Prompt: #113 | "Overboard" - 1987 - Garry Marshall Author: mortenavida Word Count: 15,878 words Rating: Teen and up Warnings: Amnesiac Draco Malfoy, Widowed Harry Potter, past Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Dub-Con due to Amnesia (Only Kissing)

Summary: It’s been years since Harry left with Ginny to get away from the bad memories of war. The small town of Elk Cove, Oregon, had been a perfect place to raise their children. Now widowed, Harry works hard to make sure his children never want for anything. When an old rival steps into his life, everything changes and Harry finds the perfect opportunity to get back at Malfoy for everything the Slytherin did to him -- if he doesn’t regret falling for him first.

Read "Spellbound" now on AO3.

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Of Labcoats and Animagi

Prompt: #97 | "Queer Eye" - 2017 - Series Author: meandminniemcg Word Count: 10,868 words Rating: Mature Warnings: mention of past abuse, panic attack (tw at beginning of chapter, can be skipped)

Summary: Fashion icon Draco? That's long past. After the war, he never bought any new clothes and lives in his labcoats. When he doesn't feel confident enough to meet his pen friend Prongs in real life, Luna decides to stage an intervention with a little help from the Fab Five.

Read "Of Labcoats and Animagi" now on AO3.

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Title of Their Sex Tape

Prompt: #112 | "Brooklyn Nine Nine" - 2013 - Series Author: Cibee Word Count: 12,428 words Rating: Teen and up Warnings: None

Summary: What are the Wizarding world's most elite law enforcers doing when they aren't catching criminals? It seems Auror Malfoy is often caught throwing food into Auror Potter's mouth when he's mid-yawn. This story isn't about Draco throwing food at Harry. What it does have is: Undercover! Heists! Draco pining for Harry! Harry being oblivious, but also can't help noticing how good Draco smells! Banters and jokes! That's about it.

Read "Title of Their Sex Tape" now on AO3.

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Harry Potter and the Beast

Prompt: #204 | "Beauty and the Beast" - 1991 - Gary Trousdale Author/Artist: Miakagrewup Word Count/Art Medium: 5,655 words/31 illustrated pages Rating: General Warnings: None

Summary: Arrogant prince Draco is cursed to live as a terrifying beast until he finds true love. This fairy tale consists of 31 fully illustrated pages.

Read "Harry Potter and the Beast" now on AO3.

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So Open Up My Eyes, Tell Me I'm Alive

Prompt: #191 | "Secret Garden" - 1993 - Agnieszka Holland Author: mycucumbereyes Word Count: 12,865 words Rating: Teen and up Warnings: trauma, canon typical violence, homophobia, use of f-g/f----t, mention of suicidal thoughts, character with a disability

Summary: When Draco Malfoy comes to live at Godric’s Hollow, he finds it full of secrets. One night he hears the sound of crying…

Read "So Open Up My Eyes, Tell Me I'm Alive" now on AO3.

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i demand to dig my own grave

Prompt: #10 | "Psych" - 2006 - Series Author: M0stlyVoid Word Count: 20,836 words Rating: Mature Warnings: None

Summary: Draco finds himself in hot water with the Aurors, and in a burst of panicked inspiration manages to wiggle out of it by claiming to be a Seer. There's just one little problem– Senior Auror Harry Potter, the Prat Who Lived, who's known him for a decade, knows full well Draco doesn't have a single psychic bone in his body and seems determined to pull him up for it. Now, the Department is demanding he help them solve cases, Potter's looming over his shoulder at every turn, and worst of all, he hasn't had a shag in weeks because of all this bother. What's a pseudo-Seer to do?

Read "i demand to dig my own grave" now on AO3.

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As You Wish

Prompt: #37 | "The Princess Bride" - 1987 - Rob Reiner Author: Pineau_noir Word Count: 21,917 words Rating: Teen and up Warnings: Canon-typical (Harry Potter and The Princess Bride) violence, mention of suicide, canon-typical character death

Summary: Draco was raised on a farm in the small country of Witshire; his favourite pastimes were flying on his broom and tormenting the hired farm boy. Though his name was Harry, Draco never called him that. On Harry's forehead there was a scar shaped like a lightning bolt, so Draco called him Scarhead. Nothing gave Draco as much pleasure as ordering Harry around.

Or a story about fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, True Love, and miracles.

Read "As You Wish" now on AO3.

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Queer Eye for the Drarry Guys

Prompt: #97 | "Queer Eye"- 2017 - Series Author: blowfish_diaries Word Count: 18,201 words Rating: Teen and up Warnings: none

Summary: Teddy's dads are great! Really! They just need a little push from five *fabulous* gays to get them to see what's right in front of them.

Read "Queer Eye for the Drarry Guys" now on AO3.

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Casecation

Prompt: #112 | "Brooklyn Nine Nine" - 2013 - Series Author: Mfingenius Word Count: 4,293 words Rating: Teen and up Warnings: AU, canon-typical discussion of heavy topics, discussion of mpreg

Summary: "Draco Malfoy, I swear to God-” Hermione snaps under her breath, causing Draco to laugh lowly as he ducks under a hanging plant pot. “Draco Potter, ‘Mione,” Harry murmurs with a helpless grin; they’re not really supposed to be speaking – they're walking through the halls of Antonin Dolohov’s beach house, on their way to arrest him – but Harry can’t help marking the difference, even a year after they got married. “Be quiet,” Ginny says, rolling her eyes. “If he hears us and escapes-” Draco signals at them, and they all steel themselves for when he throws the door of the bedroom open. “Shit!”

Read "Casecation" now on AO3.

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Don't Blink!

Prompt: #179 | "Dr Who" - 2007 - Series Author/Artist: Gnarf Art Medium: Digital art Rating: General Warnings: None

Summary: Harry had always had exceptionally bad timing. It's not different this time.

Read "Don't Blink!" now on AO3.

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A Demon and an Angel Visit the Ritz

Prompt: #167 | “Good Omens” - 2019 - Series Artist: ravenclawkward Art Medium: Digital Oil Painting Rating: General Warnings: None

Summary: Harry the demon and Draco the angel just finished saving the world. They've earned their celebration, wouldn't you say?

Read "A Demon and an Angel Visit the Ritz" now on AO3.

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Change on the Horizon

Prompt: #57 | "Shameless (US)" - 2011 - Series Author: static_abyss Word Count: 118,645 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Character with depression, mentions of not wanting to exist and lethargy, though no actual suicide or mentions of suicide. Unhealthy coping mechanisms, specifically not taking prescribed medication for depression. Internalized homophobia, and general homophobia from parental figures, though there is a happy ending. Casual relationships.

Summary: A canon AU drarry fic based on the relationship between Mickey and Ian from Shameless. A story about the aftereffects of the Second Wizarding War and how Draco and Harry come together and break apart over and over. How maybe, somewhere along the way, they find a way to live with themselves.

Read "Change on the Horizon" now on AO3.

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The Thrill of the Chase Moves in Mysterious Ways

Prompt: #192 | "Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries" - 2012 - Series Author: VeelaWings Word Count: 32,569 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Heavy Drinking, Smoking Cigars, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Minor Character Death, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Kidnapping, Non-Graphic Violence, Gun Violence, Poisoning

Summary:

“Do you have a personal interest in this case, Malfoy?” Harry asked, arms crossed and blocking the view of the body behind him.

“Not at all.” Draco smiled sweetly, cuddled into the side of tonight’s date. “Although I did briefly own that painting until it proved to be stolen.” He helpfully pointed to the Renaissance portrait a few metres to their left.

“Why is it always so complicated with you?”

+++++

Some people might argue that Draco didn’t have very good ideas. That was a lie. Draco had fantastic ideas, however, due to mankind having free will, the planning and execution of those ideas didn’t always pan out in his favor.

(Or — Draco solves crimes that don’t technically belong to him and Harry tries not to fall in love. Co-Starring: Hermione, High Heels, and Hiccups along the way. #dat 1920s lyfe)

Read "The Thrill of the Chase Moves in Mysterious Ways” now on AO3.

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Burn Your Life Down (but look back to me)

Prompt: #202 | Casablanca - 1942 - Michael Curtiz Author: Triggerlil Word Count: 35,910 words Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Warnings: Alternate Universe - World War II, Film Noir, Self-Medication, Alcohol, Infidelity (not between Harry and Draco), Smoking, Mention of Slavery and Human Trafficking

Summary:

It's been years since destiny walked into an apartment on Rue Azais, and Harry is over it. Really, he is. He has Blaise, he has his work, and if necessary, he still has his memories. But with the onset of WWII, the foundations of his life are crumbling, and suddenly a certain blond man is walking back into his life, asking Harry to make important, and dangerous, choices.

Read “Burn Your Life Down (but look back to me)” now on AO3.

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Super Rich Kids

Prompt: #24 | "The Bling Ring" - 2013 - Sofia Coppola Author: Thusspoketrish Word Count: 81,000 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Thriller, Murder, Dark Humour, Angst, Depression, Nihilism, Existenialism, Jealousy, Hurt/Comfort, Gaslighting, Very Brief Instance of Suicidal Ideation, Immorality, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence (not between Harry and Draco), Abusive Drug Use, Manipulative Behaviour, Heterosexual Sex, Threesomes, Candaulism, Possible Infidelity Due to Unclear Relationship Status (please read the tags on AO3 carefully, this list is not exhaustive)

Summary:

Draco Malfoy has become disillusioned by the glitz and glamour of the scandalous lives of the Post-Second Wizarding War Pureblood Elite. Enter: one existential crisis, one group of cynical friends, and several terrible, terrible decisions.

Read “Super Rich Kids” now on AO3.

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We Built This Right

Prompt: #48 | "Yuri on ice" - 2016 - Series Author: remy_writes5 Word Count: 15,344 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Homophobic Language, Anxiety, Strained Relationship with Parents

Summary:

At last year's Grand Prix Final, Harry had an accident that left him with a lightning scar on his forehead, a concussion and a twisted ankle. Now everyone is waiting to see if his career is over - including former rival, Draco Malfoy.

Read "We Built This Right” now on AO3.

***

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writingjoycebyers · 3 years

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Twice in her life — or: the last days he saw her smile

(Joyce Byers x Jim Hopper - observations of a friendship — a one shot)

warnings: a bit angsty, mentions sex (not explicit)

Reblogs, comments and feedback make me really happy. Let me know if you like it or what else you'd like to read. No one asked for this. My brain just came up with it. ✨❤️👀 There's a little bonus at the end and I gotta say it's a little off canon maybe. Have fun✨❤️

Enjoy the read...

Joyce Byers had been left twice in her life.

One might think it's a story about Lonnie. But no, it's most definetely not. Lonnie doesn't count. Lonnie is a side character. She left Lonnie, kicked him out all by herself after all those years that would have been wasted if they hadn't been for her boys. Her boys were her gift, and the only thing she'd ever thank Lonnie for, to some degree. He helped create them, but she had been the one to form them. She was the one she should thank for, really.

No, Joyce Byers had been left twice in her life, and it had been much more subtle events than her large fights with Lonnie, making her the main topic of the gossip all those midaged ladies were spreading at the grocery store, the doctor's office, the elementary school. You heard it? someone called the police to Joyce Byers house.

Joyce Byers had been left twice in her life, and nobody had really noticed, but her.

The first time, she had just turned nineteen. It was a rather warm day in September, and life in Hawkins couldn't be easier. High-school was done, the heat of the summer was still lingering in the air, and her dark hair was still damp from swimming in the lake as she rode around Hawkins with her best friend, Jim Hopper. Or... Was he her best friend still? She sometimes couldn't tell, couldn't put a label on it, when he was kissing her senseless in the back of his dad's old truck, parked in the dark at Lover's Lake, parked in the shade of a large oak tree — so that although it was the middle of the night, and no one would come there anyways, they'd have a bit of privacy, a roof of leaves covering their clumsy attempt on passing first base. Friends didn't do that, right?

They rode along the streets of Hawkins, and Joyce had her legs propped up on the dashboard of his car, puffing away on one of Hop‘s cigarettes. They tasted awful, but she did not mind as long as it were his. She felt connected to him through that cig. Tonight was the night. Tonight, she‘d tell him - tell him that she wanted to be more than friends, more than friends who make out occasionally. She wanted to finally look into his eyes and work up the courage to say Jim, I like you a little more than expected.

She looked at him from the side, his hands holding the steering wheel, his gaze fixed on the road as day turned into night with a wonderfully orange sky. Tonight was the night she‘d say it. Jim, you make my fucking heart race.

Jim looked beautiful to her, peaceful and innocent, like he didn‘t know that outside Hawkins there was a whole world — both good and bad — that was waiting for them and looming like a dark shadow at the same time. For him, this dark shadow could mean draft cards, his ticket off to fight a war he himself hadn‘t started, a conflict neither him nor Joyce would ever support or understand. She knew it could be his duty to leave one day, but she could still breathe every day his number didn‘t come up. As long as Hopper didn‘t have to take the trip, she wouldn‘t have to take hers either: Her trip down the road of loneliness, facing the fact that she couldn‘t afford college, being left behind with the mess she had to call her parents. She knew he wasn‘t all that innocent though, stealing booze from his dad‘s wine cellar, sharing the bottle with her shamelessly on a friday night. She knew he wasn‘t all that innocent when he pressed his body into hers, parked under that old oak tree, and she could feel his need and want press against her while he silently accepted her wish to explore second base, but not enter the third one just yet. He kissed her, and told her that it didn‘t matter how far he had gone with other girls - that all that mattered was her needs. That specific night under the oak tree though, Joyce had realised that the tingling feeling in her belly was growing more and more, and that she wouldn‘t be able to hold back for much longer. I‘ve never done it, Jim. Her whispers had been low and husky, and he had caressed her cheek as she had thought of the moment she had once caught him and Chrissy Carpenter in the back of the blonde cheerleader's car. I know, Joycie, don‘t worry about that, one day we‘ll take it slow, just give me a sign. Tonight would be the night she‘d give him said sign, she thought, as he took a turn into the road she lived on.

He pulled up into her driveway, slowing down to park in front of her house. Tonight was the night.Tonight he‘d tell her - tell her that she meant the world to him, but that he‘d have to go, and that he‘d understand if she didn‘t wait. Tell her that he‘d try to write, no matter what. Joyce, I should have told you sooner. He had kept it to himself for weeks, had just not found the words to break the news to her. The letter had been in his mailbox one rainy Monday afternoon, telling him to fight a war he neither could nor wanted to understand. A war that would send him to hell and leave Joyce in the small little bubble of a heaven that was Hawkins, Indiana. He was a coward, he couldn‘t tell her, not when they were riding in his car, or munching on a burger at the diner, not whilst smoking on her windowsill and especially not whilst kissing her in the dark, parked in the shadow of the old oak tree. He just couldn‘t, but tonight was the night. Joycie, I gotta go to Vietnam. My train leaves tomorrow.

Jim pulled the keys, and she looked at him. It was a ritual already: They’d spend their day at the lake, he‘d drive her home long after dark and as her parents were barely ever home anyways, he‘d follow her up to her room under the roof and they‘d sit by the window, smoking and kissing and exchanging little secrets. Jim loved Joyce, and Joyce loved Jim. They both knew it, they just never said a word.

The two friends, him, tall and blonde and her, small and brunette, took their usual spot by her large window. He was just about to light the last smoke from his pack, when Joyce reached for the cigarette, her hand grazing his as she took it, putting it aside. She kissed Jim with such force than that he nearly lost track of time and place. Was this still Hawkins, Indiana?

They kissed, and kissed ... and kissed some more, before she finally pulled away, taking his large hand into her small one. Their fingers were intertwined, her thumb drawing small circles to the side of his hand. Dark doe eyes met blue ones, and she breathed in once more before saying it: “Jim, I think... you‘re my best friend. But I also think... I‘m in love with you.“

Her words came out all in one breath, more a sighed whisper than a real sentence, but she had said them. Her pulse was pounding as she waited for him to respond. She had practiced the worst case already: That‘s okay, Jim, you do not have to love me back. I just hope we can stay friends?

But then his hand found her cheek and he pulled her closer, whispering an I love you, Joycie, right onto her lips as he found hers, grazing them softly. It felt like a gentle hello to Joyce, like this was the start of something new, although she had kissed him a hundred times before. She couldn‘t know it was a goodbye. Quickly, their kisses became more passionate, hungry and loving. Does he love me, she wants to know, how can she know if he loves her so?

That night, Jim Hopper made love to Joyce Horowitz — sweet, gentle and slow love. He touched her in a way he had never touched anyone before, softer, more tender - out of love and out guilt, his conscience forcing him to treat her even better, to worship her body to balance out the fact that he couldn‘t be true to her. His feelings for her were so strong that they held him back from breaking her heart - although it would in the end have to be broken, if he wanted that or not.

They shared that last cigarette afterwards, the one that had been waiting on the window sill. They‘d not share another one until almost twenty years later.

That night, Joyce Horowitz made love to Jim Hopper — sweet, gentle and slow love. She touched him in a way she had never touched anyone before, soft, tender and a bit shy as she explored his body and her own, further discovering the hot, tingling feeling in her lower belly as their clothes sprawled out on the floor and their bodies intertwined under her comforter. It‘s in his kiss.

Joyce fell asleep in Jim‘s arms, breathing softly as she felt safe and secure of the fact that he loved her too, that they were more than friends and that this was just the start.

Jim watched Joyce fall asleep in his arms, pulling her as close as he could once more. He wanted to remember this moment forever, capture every little detail for the nights to come in which he‘d sleep somewhere in the jungle of the war, with so many miles separating him from the girl he loved. He studied her face in the dim light of her room before falling asleep for a few hours himself.

When Joyce woke up the next morning, she already began to smile with her eyes still closed. It was a rainy Monday morning, she could hear the raindrops fall against her window in a steady rythm - It was soothing and she was ready to cuddle up again. She turned around, reaching for Jim, only to find the bed empty. She sat up, confused and still half asleep, stumbling across a note.

- Joy, I should have told you sooner. I won‘t forget our summer. My train leaves today, I‘m gone into training for Nam. Please don‘t come looking for me at the station. I’ll be gone already. I‘ll write. Jim. -

Joyce Horowitz had been left for the first time in her life, broken and flustered, unable to move or cry for hours and hours. She sat in bed, the note in her hands, and she cursed Jim, the world, the war and love - and even herself for falling for him. She didn‘t believe there was a feeling on earth that could be more horrible. Joyce Horowitz had been left for the first time in her life, and she had no clue there would be a second one.

......... 20 years later.........

Joyce looked at Jim one more time as he stood next to the machine, tears in their eyes, both his and hers.

I love you.

Leaning to the side, she reached for the keys once more. She stopped breathing as she turned them, held her breath as lights blended her vision, time stopping around her and then... he was gone.

Joyce Byers had been left twice in her life.

_____________________________________

Thanks for reading everyone. I appreciate every kind of constructive feedback. Feel free to send asks or messages if you wanna talk about this little piece here, or if you have any other Joyce asks or prompts!

Bonus: a little mood board I made

Sources: there's a reference to the shoop shoop song. Pics are all from pinterest if anyone Needs the sources. I don't own anything related to ST or Winona Ryder. Credit goes to the respective owners and creates, I just wrote this little fic for fun.

#Joyce #joyce x hopper #jopper #joyce byers #young jopper #headcanon #jim hopper #hopper x joyce #winona ryder #chief jim hopper #chief hopper #Jim Hopper #Jopper fic #Stranger things #David Harbour

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waywardfangirl · 3 years

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I was incredibly fortunate to get to write for the wonderful @fight-surrender in the Carry On Secret Snowflake exchange, and she gave some of the best prompts I've seen. I ended up choosing to write a meet-cute (a meet-ugly, really) that takes place on the beach and centers around Simon's new fixation on the supposed dangers lurking below the waves.

I have to give a giant thank you to @foolofabookwyrm and @caitybuglove23 for being excellent betas, cheerleaders, and for helping me get the fic formatted and posted when my computer stopped working - you guys are the best! 💜💜💜

You can read the fic below, or on AO3!

Simon

I've always wanted to go to the beach. Growing up in care, I never had the opportunity to, but now that Penny and I are done with university and enjoying weekends without the threat of homework hanging over our heads, I finally can. Of course, we don't live close to the beach, so our day trip took some planning, but it gave me time to look up all the best places to eat, and it gave Penny time to watch every possible documentary about the ocean. I watched a lot of them with her, and while I know I probably won't see all of the tropical fish that swam across our TV screen, I'm still really excited to see the ocean.

Unfortunately, I also happened to be in the room while Penny watched some show called “Predators from the Deep”, or something along those lines, so my excitement is also tinged with trepidation (or outright fear) of some of the things lurking under the waves.

“Sharks aren’t anything to worry about, Simon! They don’t want to attack you, and the likelihood of even seeing a shark here is extremely low.”

“It’s not the sharks I’m worried about, Pen! It’s all of the other stuff, all those little parasites, and the poisonous things, and the spiny ones.” The documentary was filled with shadowy shots of spiked balls and spotted tentacles just waiting to attack some unsuspecting wader.

“Don’t eat any of it then,” she replies, hardly even paying attention to me as she smooths out her blanket and sets up the umbrella.

“What?”

“You said you were worried about the poisonous things, so just don’t eat anything you find in the ocean.”

“They can hurt me even if I don’t eat them! What about that one octopus?”

“That was venomous, not poisonous, there’s a difference.” She squirts sunscreen into her palms and then slaps them lightly onto my cheeks, not allowing me time to squirm away.

“Whatever, venomous then, there are still things to be scared of in there!”

Penny ducks under the arm I have flung out to point at the ocean with, and grabs two waters from our cooler.

“You’ll be fine Simon, I promise.” She shoves a bottle into my hands. “Rub in your sun cream, and let’s walk by the edge of the water, alright? You’ll like it, we can find shells!” She starts off, picking her way through the sand and looking back only once to make sure that I’m following her.

It turns out that the water feels quite nice, even soothing. The sounds of the waves and the feel of cool water splashing my ankles combine to make me feel safe. They make me forget about the horrors lurking off-shore.

Penny has a handful of shells and has started handing me others to put in the pocket of my swim shorts. I’ve found a few shells of my own too, but I stopped paying such close attention to the ground about ten minutes ago, when I noticed a man about our own age playing in the waves with his younger siblings.

He has dark hair, originally falling around his face but now wet with seawater and slicked back to emphasize his widow’s peak. He’s still too far away for me to tell what color his eyes are, but as Penny and I walk closer I’m able to make out more of his facial expressions. He seems to be putting on sneers for show and occasionally gives bright smiles for the younger kids swarming him. He’s wearing one of those long-sleeved swim shirts, but it’s clinging tight to his body. He looks like he could be a footballer with all of the muscles I can see, even at this distance.

I’ve been trying not to stare too openly at him, but I can’t really help it - there’s just something about him that keeps drawing me in.It’s almost as if I’m under some sort of spell or thrall. Right now though, I’m extremely glad I’ve been so captivated by him, because I seem to be the only person on the beach who realizes the danger we’re all in.

Curling around the man’s left ankle are the tentacles of an octopus, surely about to stick its fangs into him and inject him with its venom (or whatever it is octopuses do to kill people).

"Octopus!" I yell. I’m at a loss for any other words, but I’m desperately trying to warn Penny as I sprint off to rescue him.

"Ooh, where?" She doesn't sound nearly concerned enough for the looming threat of death hanging over us all, but I'll talk to her about taking proper safety precautions later. Right now, I have to go save the life of the prettiest person I've ever seen.

"Octopus! Octopus!" I can't seem to make any other phrases come out of my mouth, but eventually the man looks up to see me barreling towards him, flailing my arms and yelling at the top of my lungs. He raises an eyebrow at me, staying far too calm considering the mortal peril he's in, and glances behind him to see who else I could possibly be talking to.

Unfortunately, that means he's not paying attention enough to sidestep me when the combination of my momentum and adrenalin send me toppling into him. We both splash down into the small waves lapping at the sand and I scramble to extricate myself from his long limbs as quickly as possible, crawling down to examine his ankles and prepared to risk my own life if I have to pull the octopus off of him.

"What are you doing? " His voice is lovely and posh, the vowels round and smooth and expensive.

"Saving your life, mate, you're welcome by the way," I grunt as I make another unsuccessful grab for the tentacles.

"From what? All you've done so far is endanger me, pushing me down and holding me in the water." He pauses. "If this is your attempt at murder by drowning, I think I pity you. First, you caused a scene by yelling the whole way down the beach before you assaulted me, and now you're not even bothering to hold my head under this truly pathetic amount of water. You're an absolute disaster."

"I told you—" (why are these tentacles so hard to grab,) "I'm not trying to kill you, I'm trying to save you."

"Save me from what, exactly?"

Ha! I've got you now, evil cephalopod!

"This!"

I hold the octopus up in triumph, feeling the water drip onto my sodden hair.

"From… a clump of seaweed?"

"What? No. No, it's an octopus."

Slowly, I lower the mass in my hand down to eye level, and immediately I feel my cheeks flame in embarrassment.

"Oh. Right. Sorry, then."

I try to push back from him and stand up, but my hand won't release the seaweed (it really did look like an octopus!). When I try to move a wave hits me, washing the sand out from under my foot and making me flounder for a few moments, only compounding my embarrassment. When I finally look up at the man I accidentally assaulted, he seems entirely unbothered by anything. He's lounging back on his elbows, somehow managing to look down his nose at me even though I'm sitting up fully now, and it's simply unfair how defined his abs are, even under his shirt.

"Do you make a habit of doing things like this?"

His eyes are too intense for me to look at any longer, they're a grey color that seems to be shifting to reflect the ocean behind me, and I have to busy myself with peeling the green fronds of seaweed away from my fingers.

"Like what?"

"Attacking strangers or playing the hero, take your pick."

"Sorry. I thought it was an octopus and I didn't want you to die," I mumble. This prick should be grateful, where does he get off being so smug anyway?

"Why on earth would I have died from an octopus touching me?"

"Because they're one of the most deadly creatures on earth!"

"What? No they're not. Not the ones around here, anyway. The blue ringed octopus is incredibly deadly, but it lives in the Pacific Ocean."

"But, couldn't they-"

He levels me with a look that could probably set me on fire.

"Mordelia!" One of the children comes running over from where they fled when I tackled their brother. She looks to be about twelve or thirteen, and while she isn't quite as dark and villainous looking as her brother she still has his same air of superiority. "Does this gentleman need to be worried about being attacked, maimed, or killed by any octopuses while swimming today?"

This kid - Mordelia, I guess - levels me with the most condescending look I have ever seen, and just scoffs . Actually scoffs at me, like I'm an imbecile. (Although, I still have seaweed stuck to me, so she may be onto something there.)

"No. Most accounts of cephalopod attacks can't be proven, and the few that have been entirely substantiated occurred in vastly different habitats or under circumstances that this beach couldn't support."

With that, she turns and runs back to the rest of her family, leaving me with only a parting eye roll.

"She's going through a marine biology phase."

It's the first thing the dark haired man has said to me in a casual manner, and I startle a bit.

"Did you also have a marine biology phase?"

I think my question catches him off-guard, and I smirk.

"Perhaps," he answers after a beat. "But Mordelia's has been going on for three years now, so we think it may actually stick. Mine dried up after only a few months."

He smiles at me for the first time since I knocked him over, and it's almost painful how handsome he is, sprawled out elegantly on the beach like he's in an ad for expensive watches or cologne or something, and I can't believe I tackled him because of some stupid seaweed.

"I had a dinosaur phase," I confess, smiling back at him.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" I reach down to help him up, and I'm shocked at how cold his fingers are, and how much I want to warm them up in my own. It's too bad I made such a horrible first impression, I would otherwise be sorely tempted to ask him out on a date. "What's your name, by the way? You've already attacked me, had we been in cars we would have exchanged names and proofs of insurance by now."

I’m such a mess. I didn't even think to ask what his name was.

"Simon. I'm Simon."

I go to shake his hand, and then realize that we're still holding hands, and I feel my cheeks grow redder still.

"Hello Simon, I'm Baz. It's nice to meet you, although the next time we meet I sincerely hope you can refrain from throwing yourself quite so bodily at me before we've even said hello."

"Yeah, umm, I'm sorry, really, I-" My brain catches up with my mouth. "Wait, did you say next time? "

His mouth curls up into a grin, and he gives my hand a squeeze as I try to figure out how I messed up so badly and things still worked out so well.

"Of course. For our first date, perhaps we can go to the aquarium and you can see what an octopus really looks like."

#my fic #snowbaz #Down By The Sea #Secret Snowflake 2020 #fluff and silliness 😊

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og-danny-dorito · 4 years

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[ Tanjiro Headcanons To Fuel The Fluff/Angst Tank ]

He Is Baby™ thank you very much and i love him with my whole heart

- hi hello i would like to share my thoughts on this baby cause i love him v much

- he gives me the vibe that he would def love anything strawberry related. like strawberry milk, strawberry shortcake, strawberry yogurt- the list goes ON

- he would eat them more often if they weren't so godamn expensive, and most of the time you can only find those kinds of products when in the city and he mostly travels through the woods rather than through heavily populated areas. he does get them when he can though, and usually has some stocked up when he and nezuko leave rural areas

- thats not the only fruit he likes though! hes also a huge fan of cherries but he gets those even less since they're even MORE expensive. he also very much likes mint chocolate chip icecream! something about the clash of dark chocolate and refreshing mint is just so good to him, and usually he’ll try to look for that specific flavor if theres any icecream places nearby. my basis for that?

- thankfully though he doesnt really buy things from others since he just gets most of his food from the surrounding forest. you see, tanjiro literally lived in the woodlands for most of his early life before the whole 'incident', so hes accustomed to being more of a hunter-gatherer when it comes to those sorts of things

- he knows a whole bunch of stuff about forest plants and topography for that reason specifically, and can make food out of pretty much nothing due to having to go through some rough winter times that required scavenging

- overall though hes a pretty good cook! his father and mother both liked to cook and bake and all that before they died, and, being eager to help and learn, he usually watched them when they did or asked to help with preparing the food

- he actually probably has a lot of domestic skills, now that i think about it. things like sewing up ripped clothing or repairing damaged items are almost muscle memory to him since he was raised to value what he had and not aimlessly spend his money due to his humble beginnings

- he’s actually more comfortable with simple things rather than lavish ones since thats what he grew up with. being a demon slayer means that he does get commissioned to do things sometimes or paid for it, but he usually gives most of his money to poeple who need it after spending some of what he has on more efficient and useful things like better fabric for clothes and repairs for things that he doesn't have the skill set to fix himself

- due to this humble attitude he has for things, he barely ever really treats himself to things he enjoys. he usually puts others before himself and thus forgets about his own needs, leading him to often deny taking care of himself if he deems to 'not have enough time' or 'not being important enough”

- usually forcing him to sit down and eat or at least take a moment to drink some tea can calm his nerves a ton, even if its only just for a second

- i'm pretty sure that his favorite drink is green tea (or strawberry milk), actually. its just so naturally calming and relaxing that he usually uses it as a staple for calming himself down or taking a breather from the stressful life he's lead so far

- for someone that barely takes care of himself hes awfully adamant about others taking acare of themselves. oh, you haven't slept in three days because of work? guess what you're going to sleep right now. no, dont Mention how he keeps moving even though he should be in bed because of a broken rib, your needs come first now go to sleep

- deeefinitely the mom friend type in more ways then one. its p obvious that he already takes care of Nezuko, Zenitsu and Inosuke as good friends of his, but hes kinda adamant on taking care of them almost like they're younger than him or something. this doesnt mean that they can’t take care of themselves of course, he just kinda feels the natural instinct to protect people he values if he can (mainly due to the fear that he’ll suddenly loose them without making it clear he cares about them first but we will unpack that suitcase LATER in the list)

-for that reason i can safely say that he's probably fantastic with kids because of his gentle nature. hes just so soft and pure that children naturally feel calm around him? its weird how like a baby will literally stop crying in a city full of people just because they saw tanjiro wave and smile at them and as SOON as hes out of eyesight they start crying again. also tanjiro holding a baby? you CANNOT tell me this man wouldnt softly sing some lullaby he remembers from his childhood to a child cradled in his arms, fast asleep. and the smile he gives to the person who finds him like that is BLINDING i cannot comprehend the purity-

-the EXACT same thing goes for animals. its straight up canon that he understands (to an extent) what birds are saying when they're chirping to one another, so its probably safe to assume that he might understand a little bit of what other animals may be saying when they communicate

- yet another effect of living in the forest most of his life and being way too observant at his age :p

- when dogs bark he responds to them out of instinct, knowing what they mean. when some pig just randomly snorts at him don't be surprised when he just says "oh, thank you!" in the most earnest tone possible because he probably knows what the animal said and is responding to it honestly. answering like he's pretending to know what it means would be dishonest, and thats too out of character for the sunshine boy

-its also gotta be mentioned that tanjiro physically rejects the concept of being dishonest. i swear to god I'm not making this up- when hes lying its so easy to tell because his face is physically rejecting the concept that hes not being sincere

-this goes for pretty much anything- he cant really blatantly lie without shifting in place or making a weird expression. its no expection that when asked about his feelings that he can barely keep a straight face by saying that he's "okay"

-theres just so much pent up grief and sorrow for so many things that its hard to really say that he's "just fine" or "alright" some days. the accumulation of trauma and guilt has lead up to this constant dread boiling in the pit of his stomach that he'll fail one day, and this would've been all for nothing

-he'll die one day without his goals being met, without Nezuko being healed, without his friends safe, without so many things that he thought he could fix that will eat him up until he fixes them. he doesn't have frequent depressive episodes all that often anymore since Sakonji helped him with that (kind of, it was kind of a group effort by his other superiors, the Pillars, too with some reassurance and advice since a good portion have Been There Done That with the survivor’s guilt and the like) in terms of teaching him how to meditate more frequently and search for positive outlets for his negative feelings. he helped him accept that it was okay to feel bad about it, but he couldn't give up, no matter what. because “What worth was your dream if you just gave up in the end?”

-and so he doesn't. he never gives up, on anything. he refuses to give up when his friends are in danger and the odds are against him, or when hes face to face with an eldritch demon who's been alive longer than the numbers he can count. tanjiro is incredibly persistent in his efforts, big or small, and makes a conscious decision every time to not abandon what he worked for because the phrase "What worth was your dream if you just gave up in the end?" motivates him to be better than who he was yesterday and try his best to reach his dreams

- because of this he's a heavy believer that most people can change. i say most because I'm pretty sure he knows Muzan will never change, or some of the other terrible people in the world. he's accepted over time that he can’t help everyone, but he'll be damned if he doesn't try his hardest in figuring ot if they are truly, genuinely, capable of being better. so he's incredibly supportive of people who actually do make efforts to improve themselves because he knows how hard it is to come from such a bad situation/bad mindset and reteach good values and habits

- that doesn't mean that poeple are expempt from their punishments of course- everyone deserves the consequences of their actions to be better to know what to improve on, but he has sympathy for the poeple who's consequences stop their lives short (example, countless demons that he feels terrible for because they came from really bad situations)

-since he knows how hard it is to improve on anything- he’s very very supportive to people who do that for themselves or for others. in fact, he would go out of his way for about anyone to make their life a little better but if he sees someone struggling their way to their personal best he'll happily be a help to them in any way that they can. oh, you were training really hard today and had no success in perfecting a certain technique? its alright, you can just lay down right now while he fixes your bath water and tomorrow he'll help you out with it in any way he can. hes the best cheerleader!

-overall tanjiro is very sweet and kind, even though he has personal problems with his own demons and feeling as if he's a burden most of the time. for all this suffering, he views the prosperity of the people around him worth it and is selfless to the end of the line for those whom he cares about

[ ~Thank You For Reading!~ ]

#tanjiro #tanjiro kamado #tanjiro headcanon #tanjiro headcanons #tanjiro imagine #tanjiro imagines #demon slayer #demon slayer tanjiro #demon slayer headcanon #demon slayer headcanons #demon slayer imagine #demon slayer imagines #kimetsu no yaiba #KNY #kny headcanon #kny headcanons #kny imagine #kny imagines #water breathing

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imaginationintowords · 4 years

Text

Folklore [song series]

august

Modern Day AU! Bucky Barnes x OC!Reader; Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff

Plot: Inspired by Taylor Swift’s new album Folklore. The story follows the timeline of Bucky and Elizabeth’s relationship throughout the years.

Word count: 2960

Warnings: cheating, swearing, mentions of sex, & angst.

Previous part

Series Masterlist

Age: 17

Year: 2011

Location: Brooklyn, New York

Natasha Romanoff.

She was the school's top cheerleader. Every girl wanted to be her. Every guy wanted her.

Well almost every guy.

Natasha has had a crush on Bucky since she moved to Brooklyn in the third grade. She and her dad had to downsize after her mother's death.

Unfortunately, Bucky was never more than a friend to her.

As kids he was always with Steve and Elizabeth.

She envied Elizabeth.

She was cute. Smart. Had both of her parents. She was way too bubbly for Natasha's liking, even at the age of 8 years-old.

She knew that the only reason she was envious of Elizabeth was because she was close to Bucky.

She thought that maybe if Elizabeth wasn't so close to Bucky, both girls could've been friends.

Maybe.

Natasha never understood how one person could be so happy. Realizing that Elizabeth has never had to deal with the pain and hardships life has to offer.

When Elizabeth and Bucky started dating, Natasha's hatred for her grew.

How could he like someone like her? Not when Natasha had been so obvious in her flirtatious ways. That whole summer leading up to high school, she made sure to be very obvious. But Bucky was too clueless to see.

When word got out that Bucky and Elizabeth were dating, she only saw red.

She decided to forget about Bucky and jump into relationships with any guy that would fawn over her.

Her dad was never home, always away on business trips, so the house was always free for overnight guests. But none of them ever made her fell anything for more than a night.

She knew she was developing a not so good reputation at school, but she didn't care. And maybe that's why no one truly cared.

Yeah she was Inez's number one subject when it came to school gossip, but no one ever treated Natasha differently.

Must've been the way she held herself. She walked with such power, that all eyes couldn't help but fall onto her. Her presence simply demanded the room's attention.

But one person's eyes never wavered.

So when she noticed Elizabeth dancing with the school's top douche at the dance, and Bucky was nowhere in sight, she knew that was her chance.

She had been silently praying for Elizabeth to walk out and find Natasha on her knees with her boyfriend's dick in her mouth.

After that, Bucky had completely avoided Natasha. But she knew Elizabeth and Steve were leaving for the summer, so she just had to play the waiting game.

She won during the hottest day of the year.

Hook, line, and sinker.

After Bucky had gotten in Natasha's car, she could tell he was avoiding eye contact with her.

"You know if you want, you could pretend I'm her," She spoke out breaking the silence in the car.

"What?" Bucky asked, taken back by what she had said.

"I said," she pulls the car over, parks it, and shuts off the ignition.

She looks over at him, and places her hand on his upper left thigh, "If you want, you can pretend I'm her."

Bucky gulps loudly, looking down at Natasha's hand.

"Nat-"

"Shh," she leans closer, over the middle console, "Call me Betty."

Bucky turns his head away from her, noticing that they were in front of Natasha's house.

"We can't," he hesitated, still looking out the window.

"Oh, but we can, no one's home," she sultry whispers in his ear.

"But Elizabeth," he nervously says.

"Oh, but I am Elizabeth," she softens her voice, trying to sound like his girlfriend, "Your sweet, sweet Elizabeth."

Bucky finally turned his head towards Natasha. Her face was so close to him, he could practically taste the cinnamon gum she had chewed earlier.

He glances around seeing someone exit their house. He lightly pushes Natasha away.

"Not in here," he says.

Natasha led Bucky quietly into her house. Once the front door was closed behind them, she grabbed his hand.

"Oh James, I've missed you so much," she continued to say in her Elizabeth tone as she led him up the stairs to her room, "I can't wait to show you how much I have."

Natasha knew that what she had asked of him wasn't right. Pretending to be his girlfriend, wasn't right. She knew that.

For the first two weeks, he would gasp out Elizabeth's name instead of her's. Deep down it hurt Natasha's feelings, but she pushed it away if it meant she could have Bucky in her bed. She would take him any way she could get him.

But as the weeks progressed, he stopped calling her Elizabeth and started to moan out her name.

They were laying in bed post orgasm.

"You said my name," Natasha breathed out, staring at the ceiling.

"Huh?" Bucky looked over at her confused.

"You called me by my name," she repeated, with a small smile on her face.

"Oh," he breathlessly said. He hadn't noticed that he had, "I guess I did."

He looked back up at the ceiling, feeling conflicted with himself. He knew what he was doing was all kinds of wrong. Not only the cheating on his girlfriend, but also calling the person he was sleeping with his girlfriend's name.

He has never felt more like an asshole in that moment. Natasha didn't deserve that.

Over the course of the last two weeks, he had gotten to know her little by little. He started staying over more. Her father was never home, and he didn't feel right leaving her all alone in an empty house.

"Sorry," he apologized, turning on his side to look at her.

"For?" she looked at him.

"For being a dick."

"You're not a dick, Bucky," she shook her head confused why he was saying that.

"Yes, yes I am. I've been treating you like shit," he says, softly brushing away a strand of hair off her face.

"No you haven't," she defends, "If this is about you pretending that I'm Elizabeth, Buck, I told you to do that. I'm okay with that, if it means I get to be with you."

"You deserve better," he caresses her cheek.

"All I want is you," she vulnerably says.

"I-"

"Shh. It's okay, I'll take you however way I can," she says, brushing his now long hair away from his face, "I'll take us in however way."

After that night things between her and Bucky started to change. Their hook ups became more personal. Some nights they wouldn't even have sex, they would just stay up playing video games, or watching movies, or just talking.

He no longer pretended she was Elizabeth. All he saw was Natasha. The real Natasha.

And she saw him. The real him. The vulnerable, dark side. The goofy, lovable side. She saw him in a way Elizabeth never did.

That summer Bucky emotionally grew up. He started to become more vulnerable. Opening up to Natasha about his dad, in a way he never could with Elizabeth or Steve, their optimistic side always showing hope for the better. Natasha would just listen, let him vent and rant about his father. Always validating his feelings, because she knew how he felt.

Bucky's feelings for Natasha started to grow. And that scared him. Because it was always supposed to be Elizabeth, he has never been with anyone other than her, well until recently. He never knew a relationship could feel that way.

He would shake those feelings away, and tell himself that this was only til the end of August, then he would be reunited with Elizabeth. After that he would end things with Natasha, she had to know that the summer was all they had.

Natasha knew that.

Natasha knew she probably should've ended it once her feelings started to get stronger. That August she never felt more alive. More free.

And it was all thanks to him. The boy that would never be her's.

She would cherish that summer for what it was.

Things between her and Bucky started to get more serious. As serious as it can possibly get:

It had been a few days since Bucky apologized to Nat about how he's been treating her. They hadn't seen each other since then because of work and family obligations .

Natasha was getting ready for work, when her phone started to ring. She looked down and saw Bucky's name on the screen.

"Hey Bucky," she answered.

"Hey! What are you up to?" he asked her.

"Getting ready for work. Why?"

"Call in sick," he tells her, "I want to take you somewhere."

"Wait what?"

"Call in sick. I want to take you somewhere for the weekend."

"Okay," she quickly agreed, a giant smile spreading across her face, "Do I get to know where we are going?"

"Nope, just pack a swimsuit. I'll be there to pick you up in an hour," he tells her before hanging up.

Natasha had never felt so giddy in her life. She tried her best to cover her happy emotions as she called in sick for work, letting them know she wouldn't be able to make it this weekend. She knew that wasn't the most responsible thing to do, but Bucky was taking her away for the weekend and she wasn't going to say no. She would cancel anything just to be with him.

Just like he said, an hour later Bucky pulled up to Natasha's house, running up the porch to knock on her door. Before he could knock on it, the door swung open.

"I saw you pull up from the living room," she smiled, grabbing her weekender duffel bag.

"Here, I'll take that," he smiled, grabbing her bag for her, as she closed and locked up her house.

"So Mr. Barnes, where are you taking me?" she playfully interrogated, to her surprise he grabbed her hand and they walked hand-in-hand together to his awaiting car.

She briefly looked at their hands, and couldn't help the blush creep on her cheeks. She knew it was a risky thing for him to do out in the open, but the world didn't exist when she was with him.

"It's a surprise," he winked.

When they got to his car, he dropped her hand and held the passenger door open for her. He's never done that before, in all the times they would meet up, he would always quickly jump in her car or vice versa.

She could tell Bucky was very sorry for how he's been treating her the past couple of weeks, by all the little gestures he was showing her.

On the car ride he held her hand the entire time. From time to time he would place little kisses on her knuckles.

Her mind would get the better of her and question if he was picturing Elizabeth when he did those sweet things. But then he would take a glance over at her, with that big ole smile of his, and those thoughts would wash away.

He was there with her.

An hour later and they pulled up to a beach house.

"Who's is this?" she asked, as they unbuckled themselves.

"It's my grandparents'. I asked them if I could use it for the weekend," he smiled at her, opening his door to get out, she went to go reach for her handle, "Wait, let me get it."

He quickly jogged over to her side and opened the door. Natasha didn't even care if he saw the blush on her cheeks.

"It's pretty," she stared up, amazed at the two story beach house.

"Here, why don't you go open the door while I get our bags, alarm code is 0310," he tells her handing her the keys.

"Your birthday?"

"Yeah, my grandparents bought this place when I was born, they wanted a beach house for their grandkids," he tells her.

That weekend was the best weekend of Natasha's life. August was the best time of her life.

It was just her and Bucky. Free.

They were able to walk around holding hands because no one there knew who they were. She was allowed to relish in her daydreams of what it would be like to actually be the girlfriend of Bucky Barnes.

Each morning she would wake up and see him sleeping soundly, the sun shining through the windows, creeping through the curtains. Casting a pretty glow on Bucky's back.

That was the moment she knew. She was in love with Bucky Barnes, and she didn't know how she was going to get out of all of this alive.

She knew she couldn't tell him. It would ruin everything.

She knew that once August was over, he would no longer be her's.

And she knew she didn't have the right to get sad or heartbroken over it, because this was her decision.

She was the one that pursued him, knowing he had a girlfriend.

This was all her doing, and she would have to live with the thought that Bucky Barnes was never her's.

All those days and nights of them wrapped up in each other. The late night talks. The video game sessions. The movie nights. The sneaking around during their breaks at the mall. The nights where they spilled their secrets to each other. The nightmares they would help each other through. The laughter they had, the inside jokes.

All of it.

They were all just memories she would have to keep alive in her mind.

She knew once she received that message from Inez, that it was all over with.

The whole school would know soon enough.

Elizabeth would know soon enough.

Natasha's phone started to blow up from classmates. She turned it off.

She deleted her social media accounts, once she saw what classmates were writing about her.

"Homewrecker" "Slut" "Whore" "Nasty"

But the one that hurt the most,

"Did she really think Bucky would leave Elizabeth for her? He loves Elizabeth. No man would ever love a woman like Natasha."

All those memories, that she held onto, started to crumble.

The feeling she had with him. The emotion he would show her.

Yes, Bucky loved Elizabeth. But she knew deep down that Bucky loved her too.

He had too. That weekend away at the beach house was proof:

Natasha was awoken by the sun creeping through the curtains and shining right on her face. She opened her eyes to be greeted with a sleeping Bucky next to her on his stomach, with one arm around her waist.

She began to quietly get up, but the arm around her waist tighten.

"Where are you going?" his groggy voice asked, his eyes still closed.

"To close the curtains some more, the suns shining through," she tells him.

"No, not yet, please," he says scooting closer into her, rubbing his face into her neck causing her to giggle.

"Bucky."

"He's sleeping," he says against her neck.

She adjusted her right arm over him, causing him to cuddle into her more. She softly played with his hair.

She felt herself falling back asleep, but right before she slipped away she heard one last thing,

"I love you Natasha."

She never brought that up to him, because she had just thought it was a dream. But the way it felt so real, she was sure it had actually happened.

The first week back to school wasn't so good. The whispers and looks on the halls made Natasha shiver down her spine. She hadn't talked to Bucky since word got around, but according to Inez, Elizabeth had found out as soon as she got back home and broke up with Bucky. She figured it wasn't best to call him.

Then she heard about what happened at Elizabeth's house the night Bucky showed up to her student counsel meeting. She couldn't believe the way Elizabeth had treated Bucky. Kicking him down when he was already down.

She gets the fact that Bucky screwed up, but that's no way to talk to someone. She never knew Elizabeth could be so mean.

She knew it wasn't her place to go see Bucky, but she had to. The best time she thought was when the world was sleeping, she knew he would still be awake. Another thing they shared was their insomnia.

She pulled up in front of his house, and texted him she was here and if she could come up. While waiting for a response she heard a knock on her window. She turned to see Elizabeth standing outside of it, wearing a coat over her pajamas.

Natasha rolled down her window.

"Hi Elizabeth," she quietly said.

"What you couldn't get enough? Now that I'm back you're going to do it right in front of my face?" She harshly asked Natasha, her voice trembling a little.

"Elizabeth, that's not why I came here. I just wanted to check up on Bucky, make sure he's okay," Natasha truthfully says, trying to be delicate with her words seeing how broken Elizabeth looked up close.

"So what, you two are now dating? You were just waiting for me to get out of the picture and you leaped in when you saw the opportunity," she says, "You know I never really believed what everyone would say about you. Because even though we weren't close, you never seemed like that girl. I guess I was wrong. You are exactly what they say you are."

"That's not fair," Natasha says, her lip quivering from the effects Elizabeth's words had on her, "You don't know me."

"Yeah, and he does," Elizabeth scoffs.

"He does," Natasha defends, "and I know him."

"Please, all he ever wanted from you was sex," Elizabeth pauses and actually looks into Natasha's eyes, a realization hitting her, "You love him?"

Natasha was taken back by that. She had never spoken those words out loud, and she was most definitely not going to say them out loud to the ex of the man.

"Here's a little newsflash for you" Elizabeth spoke quietly, leaning her head closer to Natasha's, "He will never love you. He was never even your's to begin with."

Natasha sat there in complete silence as Elizabeth walked away back into her house. The tears began to stream down her face.

She did the only thing she could think of to do. She rolled up her window, put her car back in drive, and drove back home.

The only thought running through her head"

He was never her's.

61 notes · View notes

smytimagine · 4 years

Text

“The Assistant” Part IV: It’s Always Been You

Warnings: swearing, smut, fluff- hints at eating issues

Word Count: 5,311

A/N: Guys I’ve gotten pretty soft on Ethan lately, what is that about?! I started this story with totally different intentions, but that seems to be changing

Sorry this took so long! I was so hesitant to post it!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

____________

The sun started to set over the horizon as I dug my toes deeper into the sand, pulling them up every so often to watch the sand run off and in between them. Lisa and Cam were walking along the beach taking in the last bit of daylight and Alyana had dragged Grayson away the minute we got here to take pictures of herself for Instagram.

I looked up from my feet and noticed Ethan sitting slightly in front of me, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees letting the sun silhouette his face perfectly. I leaned back on my hands and just admired him for a minute while he stared out at the ocean, seemingly lost in thought. I realized how selfish I was to have spent the last 24 hours agonizing over the loss of someone I never had, all the while this wonderful man was right in front of me the whole time and never wavered. He had always been there for me, since day one. My biggest cheerleader and closest friend. Sure, Grayson was there too, but things seemed like they weren’t going to always be that way with him. I started to realize that I may one day lose Ethan too. Eventually, he will get a girlfriend and I really will be just their assistant.

I reached forward and grabbed his wrist. He broke his stare and glanced back in my direction, his face lighting up when he saw me batting my eyelashes at him. Something I always did before asking him to snuggle.

“Come sit back here, I’m cold” I lied and patted the sand beside me. He knew I wasn’t cold, I had my knees tucked into the hoodie he let me borrow, with the hood pulled up over my head

He laughed and scooted back so he was sitting next to me. He wrapped his arm around me as I leaned against his shoulder, wrapping my arms around his side. We sat there in silence for a few minutes, he had returned his stare to the ocean while I closed my eyes and breathed in his scent, and the feeling of his chest rising and falling with his steady breaths.

“I don’t ever want to forget this moment E, I don’t want to wake up one day and not have you in my life,” I broke the silence as I spoke barely audibly

He pulled away slightly and lifted my chin up to look at him, concern written on his face “Why would you say that? Y/N/N I’m not going anywhere” His eyes moving back and forth between mine as he ran his thumb just under my lip

“I don’t know, I can just feel things changing. Things are going to start to change in relationships and I’m not sure where I’ll fit into all of that. Grayson made it pretty clear today that I’m his assistant, not even his friend” I replied, trying my best not to sound weak.

“Well, you are our assistant…” as he started, I moved my eyes away from his as I tried to pull my face away from his grip, I didn’t want to look at him while he agreed with Grayson.

“…but you’re so much more than that. I know you don’t ever give yourself a second thought, but you are so much more than words can express. You’re my best friend. You’re amazing. Anyone who can’t see that is stupid” he continued.

As I looked back at him, our eyes met, he leaned in and touched his forehead to mine. I had a sudden urge to kiss him but I held off. If my relationship with Grayson was strained, I wasn’t about to fuck up the only strong one I have left.

Closing his eyes he sighed as he continued “He may be my brother, but he is a complete moron for not wanting to be in my place right now,” he softly placed a peck on my forehead. I melted at the feeling as his lips lingered on my skin. I wasn’t sure why I couldn’t bring myself to just cross that line with him. Being with Ethan would be so easy. Sure, we bicker sometimes, but one of us is always crawling back to the other one with puppy eyes shortly after. I guess I was always scared to ruin something so great. I’d rather keep things the way they were now than not have him at all if it went wrong.

He took my hand and interlaced his fingers with mine, I leaned against his shoulder again as we watched the sun making its last kiss of light over the ocean.

____________

Cam POV

Mom and I had gone for a walk once we got to the beach. Sure we had beaches in New Jersey, but there was something different about California. We never passed up a chance to head to Malibu when the boys asked us to go.

The sun was just starting to set and we decided to head back towards the group before it got dark.

“Cameron is that Gray and… oh crap, what’s her name again?” Mom asked as she turned to me with a grimaced face

“Clout Chaser Barbie? Yea I think that’s them, I’d say let’s go catch up to them, but I’d really rather not” I replied looking up to where my mom was motioning.

“Yeah, well she isn’t what I would have picked for my son, but we have to play nice for Gray, he deserves our support so he knows we’ll pick him up when this falls apart”

I couldn’t help but laugh. My mom made even the nastiest comments sound sweet. We continued our walk back when I caught a glimpse of something that stopped me in my tracks, Ethan and Y/N snuggled into each other staring out at the ocean. I nudged my mom to stop and look in their direction.

“Look at that, how perfect are they?” Mom said sighing while a smile crept across her face

“Pretty perfect, but they’ll never let it go there. E wants her to be happy, even if it’s not with him.” I shrugged. Everyone knew they were perfect for each other, even if they didn’t realize it yet.

“I think he could make her happy, I think he already does. They’re just both scared of what that could change” She assured herself, leading the way back up the beach.

____________

Grayson POV

Alyana had dragged me over to the pier when we got to the beach, it was golden hour and she wanted me to take some new pictures of her for her Instagram. I have to admit, this wasn’t what I had planned when decided to come here. I wanted to spend time with my mom and sister since I only got to see them once in a while. But, here I am, watching her take her 1,000th selfie, I guess this is my life now.

Y/N had stayed up on the sand with Ethan. I have no idea what has gotten into them both, but since when does Ethan stay at Y/N’s house when she isn’t feeling well? Sure, we have brought her over soup and smoothies when she has been sick before, but never once have we ever stayed the night.

I looked around surveying the beach from the pier, trying to figure out where everyone went. I spotted Mom and Cam walking back along the water line. I scanned up the sand and found Y/N and Ethan, faces pressed together. Did they just kiss?! What the actual fuck is happening right now... A sudden sick feeling fell over me

“Hey babe, you okay?” Alyana asked barely breaking eye contact with her screen

“Oh, uh, y-yeah I think so, why?” I managed to stammer out as I rubbed my hand over the back of my neck trying to shake off the bizarre feeling.

“All of a sudden you got really pale” she replied, holding up her phone to take her next photo

“I think I’m just hungry. Maybe we should go see if everyone is ready for dinner?” I lied.

I mean it wasn’t a total lie, I’m always hungry. But to be honest, I wasn’t sure what I felt. I just witnessed my brother kiss my best friend who is also our assistant, and I hated it. Ethan and Y/N have always been super close, we all have. But he should know better than to cross that line with her. This is going to fuck everything up for us. When they break up she will leave us. Not only will we be out an assistant, but we’ll lose our best friend.

Here I was with my beautiful girlfriend, who is a model, so surely that was why I felt sick about all of this right? How irresponsible of them. A new feeling of anger replaced the sickness I had just felt as Alyana and I made our way back from the pier.

____________

Y/N POV

The sun had all but completely disappeared over the ocean when everyone had met back up to where Ethan and I were sitting.

Ethan stood up, brushed himself off, and then held out his hand to help me up. Just as I reached up to grab his hand, Grayson walked in between us, and I fell back onto the sand landing on my butt.

“Oh, sorry,” Grayson glanced over his shoulder, not stopping to help

“Uh, that’s cool Bro, no big deal” Ethan tried to breeze past the moment as he helped me up brushing the sand off of my back.

What the hell was that about? I thought while brushing myself off, unable to ignore the obviousness of the situation. There’s no way he didn’t see Ethan’s hand out

“Where do you guys want to eat?” Lisa asked trying to break the growing tension

“Gray and I know this great place we take Y/N all the time, we could go there?” Ethan suggested. Everyone nodded in agreement, except Grayson, who had grabbed Alyana’s hand and was practically running up the sand towards his car.

The rest of us tried to shrug it off and followed up the sand towards Ethan’s Jeep.

“Hey Gray, we’ll meet you guys there?” Ethan double-checked with Grayson before we got into separate cars.

“Yeah, whatever bro” Grayson grumbled back

I looked over at Ethan to see if he had just heard the same tone I did. He returned my look with slightly furrowed brows and a shrug

Grayson closed the passenger door after letting Alyana in, looked over at the Jeep where Ethan was opening the passenger door for me, groaned and got into his car. l couldn’t help but divert my attention over to the blue Porsche, unsure of what was up with Grayson as I climbed into the passenger seat.

“Okay does anyone know what the hell that was?!” Cam broke the silence as we drove out of the parking lot. Ethan let out a chuckle as his hand found its usual spot on my thigh, I rested my hand over his as we all shrugged and shook off the moment. If there was anything the four of us were used to, it was Grayson’s mood swings. He should be over it by the time we all arrived at the restaurant.

____________

When we got to the restaurant we had somehow arrived before Grayson and Alyana, even though we all left at the same time. We were waiting outside when a heated Grayson was hightailing it to the door with a less than happy Alyana behind him.

“Oh, shit” I whispered to Ethan

I guess he’s not over it

“I don’t think we even want to know” he replied holding the door for me to enter the restaurant, both of us oblivious to what Grayson was actually upset about.

I was so happy Ethan chose a place I was so comfortable at. We came here all the time after a long day of work. It wasn’t the fanciest place in the world, but that’s why we loved it so much.

They sat us in a semi-private room. This was something we were all used to because the twins never got to eat peacefully in public. Sure, they loved their supporters, but they also loved food. Having an uninterrupted dinner was always the preference when we could get it.

I went to sit down when a chair was pulled out for me. I looked to my left to see Ethan winking with a smirk. I sat down as he pushed it in, then took the seat beside me.

Grayson sat down across from us but did not look in our direction. I had no idea what the heck had gotten into him all of a sudden. Earlier this week we were laughing over avocado toast and now today he’s telling Ethan I’m basically just their assistant, and won’t even look at me.

We each ordered our dinner and were having a great time, laughing and catching up, Ethan Cam and I shooting our straw wrappers at each other while Grayson and Alyana pretty much ignored the rest of the table.

“Hey Gray, can you pass the rolls?” I asked.

“Do you really need to eat anymore carbs?” she spoke under her breath

The table fell silent. I mean how could it not? She wasn’t exactly whispering. I looked over at her and then back to Grayson, who sat blank-faced at the comment as if he never heard it. I don’t know what I expected. I guess I thought he wouldn’t let anyone speak to his best friend like that, but then I remembered I didn’t know what we were anymore.

“Hey, new girl. Watch your fucking mouth” A voice spoke up from the opposite end of the table. I broke my stare at Grayson to look to my right finding Cam pushing back from the table removing her napkin from her lap as Lisa grabbed her.

“It’s okay Cam, let it go” I tried to calm her down by flashing her a smile. She knew it was fake, she could always see through my bullshit, but she sat down clenching and relaxing her fists under the table. At least someone was standing up for me

Ethan grabbed the basket of rolls and handed them to me. I took them trying my best to smile in return but placed it down to the other side of me, deciding against them.

I was never one to turn down food. Whenever the boys and I went out I never hesitated to order a burger and fries and chow down. I worked extremely hard on my physique and felt like I should reward myself once in a while. Never once did I feel low about my appearance until now.

I stared down at the remainder of my fries and pushed the plate away from me, reaching for my water to satisfy any remaining hunger I had felt. I was lost in my own thoughts staring into my glass when I felt a hand wrap over my thigh. I looked to my left to find Ethan eating with his left hand but grinning about our little secret. I placed my hand on top of his, squeezing lightly. Sometimes I swear he could read my mind.

The rest of dinner was one big awkward silence. Alyana decided she would keep her mouth shut as to not mess with Cam who kept death staring her while stabbing her knife into her left over cheeseburger. I would catch Lisa smiling at Ethan and I every once in a while. It didn’t catch me totally off guard. I knew that Lisa loved how Ethan and I were together. We had both tried to make it pretty clear to her that we were just friends, but I’m not sure she had let that ship sail yet.

Grayson had spent most of the dinner staring down at his plate or shooting eye daggers at Ethan. I couldn’t figure out what his issue was. I knew he thought it was weird Ethan stayed at my place last night, but usually they never let a disagreement last this long. Is that what he’s still mad about?

I wasn’t even sure Ethan had noticed. When Ethan was eating not much else could hold his attention. The room could be in flames around him and he probably wouldn’t notice. Or maybe, he was so used to Grayson throwing temper tantrums he was just really good at ignoring them.

____________

After dinner, Ethan had invited me back to the house to hang out and relax with his mom and sister. I felt slightly weird about it because of how this evening had already gone, but I tried to never pass up a chance to hang out with Lisa and Cam since we saw them so infrequently. As we pulled up the driveway and parked, Grayson was pulling up. Alone

I flashed him an innocent smile as he got out of the car, to a stone face in return.

I followed everyone else inside, followed by Grayson who stayed silent and disappeared down the hall once we entered the house.

“Should we go sit by the fire? Try this evening again?” Ethan suggested placing his hand on my lower back to lead us outside.

____________

We had all been sitting around the fire for about an hour, our faces hurting from laughter at stories Lisa was telling of the twins as kids. Ethan and I had snuggled up on the bench under a blanket. Grayson had decided to join us shortly after we got the fire going, I figured for his mom and sister’s company. Grayson might have been hot-headed, but he was a family man. His family always came first. He used to include me in that group, but I’m not so sure now. When he didn’t stick up for me at dinner, I was pretty sure that was all that needed to be said there.

He had been checking his phone non-stop since he sat down, obviously waiting for Alyana to text him, which it would seem she hadn’t. In between glances to his phone, he would fix his stare at Ethan and me. I couldn’t figure out what he was thinking about. It almost seemed like he was staring through us. I wanted so badly to call him out on his behavior, but what was I supposed to say?

Grayson had some flings here and there over the last couple of years, but he had never had a girlfriend he considered serious enough to introduce to everyone, so I had no idea if this is just how he was going to be in a relationship. Either way, that had nothing to do with Ethan and me.

____________

Lisa had headed to bed a while ago, the rest of us thinking about doing the same.

“Well, I should probably go. If it gets any later I’ll be too tired to even drive” I said pulling the blanket off of my lap and standing up to head back inside.

“Just stay here” Ethan suggested, eyes fixated on the fire

I had stayed at the twin’s house many times after a late night, usually crashing on the couch or the guest bed, but I knew they would both be taken with their mom and sister staying there as well

“I wouldn’t have anywhere to sleep, and as much as I love Cam, she snores” I laughed looking over at Cam

“Hey! Fuck you Y/N/N!” she laughed throwing her empty cup at me

“You can stay with me.” He mumbled, breaking his glance to look over in my direction

I looked back at Ethan unsure if I had heard his suggestion correctly

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose” I asked nervously. As close as Ethan and I were, we had never shared a bed.

“Ethan, don’t be fucking stupid, she doesn’t want to sleep with you” Grayson blurted out. A look of disgust on his face.

“Grayson, don’t you need to go call your girlfriend? Your phone has been awfully quiet since we got home” Ethan pushed back

“Y/N you can either sleep on the other couch next to Cam, or you can have my bed and I’ll sleep on the couch. You’re not sleeping with Ethan. How stupid of an idea is that?” Grayson almost demanded throwing his hands around while he spoke.

For some reason I felt like I had to obey. Although we were all used to his moods, I found Grayson extremely intimidating, when he raised his voice, I usually listened.

“I guess I’ll take the couch then Gray... thanks for the offer though” I stammered, surprised he even addressed me directly after avoiding me all day.

He nodded looking smug about his interference.

____________

Grayson and Cam had headed to bed while Ethan and I stayed by the fire a while longer. As much as I loved everyone else, I loved these quiet moments with Ethan even more.

“Let’s play truth or dare” he spoke after a while of just listening to the fire crackle and the crickets chirping around us

“Really E? It’s just the two of us, how fun can that be?” I laughed taking another sip of my drink

“Oh, it can be really fun” he winked

“Ugh, fine you dork, you go first” I gave in, placing my drink down and waving him off

“Okay Y/N/N, truth or dare” he smirked and wiggled his eyebrows

“Truth”

“Of course you’d pick truth, because you’re afraid of what my dare would be” he threw his head back and chuckled

“Oh just shut up and ask your question” I replied, though he was right. If you ever play a game of truth or dare with the Dolans, always choose truth. Those two can come up with some crazy dares.

“Okay...” He sat forward leaning on his knees “ You didn’t eat the rolls tonight at dinner because Alyana made you feel bad about yourself” he said, more matter of factually than questioning, already sure of my answer

I have to admit I was caught slightly off guard about his question. I was hoping no one had noticed that I didn’t actually take any when Ethan handed me the basket

“Ummm” I tried to come up with a lie, avoiding his strong eye contact

“Y/N... don’t lie to me” he said sharply. By his tone I could tell he was irritated, maybe not at me directly, but at the memory of dinner.

“Okay, yes I let her get to me. How was I not supposed to when Grayson just sat there with no expression, letting her talk to me like that? I kind of figured if he didn’t say anything he must agree. How is that not supposed to make me feel like shit?” I confessed, leaning my head down avoiding his judgement.

Ethan stood up from where he was sitting across from me and came over to stand in front of me. He knelt down and took my hands in his, pulling my gaze up to meet his eyes

“You are absolutely beautiful. Don’t let some clout chaser make you feel anything other than that. I love watching you eat... not in a creepy way, but you’re confident. We all know you work really hard to stay in shape. I love that you treat yourself. I don’t ever want to go out with you and have you afraid to eat. Okay?” He said calmly trying to reassure me, brushing away a stray hair that had fallen into my eyes

“...okay E” I whispered

“Promise me Y/N/N” he insisted as he furrowed his eyebrows in concern

“Okay E I promise... now please stand up. It’s my turn” I tried to change the subject. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate his sincerity, but I was embarrassed at how I let that stupid girl make me feel at dinner and I’d rather forget it.

He chuckled standing up to move back to his seat. “Okay, hit me”

“Alright. Ethan, truth or dare” I knew he would pick dare. Dolan’s never turned down a dare. And to be honest, I didn’t have a truth question for him.

“Obviously dare” he replied

*phew*

“Okay, E....” I looked around the yard trying to figure out what to dare him. “I dare you to jump in the pool. With all your clothes on” I raised an eyebrow looking back at him.

He shrugged and stood up heading towards the pool. I quickly followed behind.

“It would have been better if you said naked” he laughed

I rolled my eyes, I was practically asking for that response

“But I have a request first” he added turning back around

“I’m not sure that’s how this works but what is it?” I asked

“I need a hug. I miss you” he stuck his bottom lip out trying to make me feel bad

I walked towards his open arms “You’re such a dork, how could you miss....AHHHHH” my sentence was cut off as he grabbed me and flung us both into the pool

I gasped for air when I reached the surface of the water, looking around the dark pool for Ethan but didn’t find him

“ETHAN! WHY DID YOU DO THAT! I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!” I yelled seemingly into the abyss as I was quickly dunked back under the water

I swam back up grabbing him in the process, I wasn’t going to let him get away with it this time

“Why did you do that!” I yelled at him laughing, slapping his wet shoulder with my heavily soaked hoodie sleeve

“It was fun!” he laughed splashing me trying to avoid another shot

“Well I don’t have a change of clothes now you ass” I scoffed looking down at my wet clothes

“Oh, because you weren’t going to raid my closet anyway?” He asked smirking, hopping out by the ledge of the pool and reaching back down to help me

“I guess you’re right, but you’re still an ass” I shrugged and reached up to let him help me out.

____________

He interlaced his wet hand with mine as we slunk as quietly as we could past Cameron through the house. We both knew if Grayson saw us dripping water all over the floor he would kill us, I prayed he would stay in his room. Odds were good he was on the phone talking sweet nothings to his stick figure girlfriend.

I giggled as Ethan flung me past him through the door way as he closed the door behind me. He took off his sopping wet shirt and then turned around to find me in a staring match with his wet half naked body

“Hey Y/N/N? You okay?” he laughed, bowing his head to try to catch my eyes

I felt my face heat up

“Uh, yeah yeah I’m good.” I tried to look away and get distracted by literally anything else.

Ethan smirked at my embarrassment “Well, I’ll probably hop in the shower, if you want you can shower after me, just pick out whatever you want from the closet while you wait” he kissed my cheek as he walked into the bathroom turning over his shoulder to add “I’m glad I can get you to blush too”

My eyes followed him into the bathroom, since when do I blush at Ethan’s body? Since when do I watch him walk away like I’ve never seen him before?

I sat down on the bed listening to him turn the shower on. Lost in my new found thoughts I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with them

Before I could even think about it I found my feet carrying me to the bathroom door. I jiggled the handle to see if it was unlocked and was happily surprised to find it was. Was he hoping I would come in?

I opened the door and found Ethan in the shower letting the water run over him. The glass shower walls left little to the imagination. He hadn’t noticed me standing there yet, so I took the moment to really admire the man in front of me as he stood under the water running his hand through his hair. He was literal perfection.

I walked over to the shower and opened the door, still clothed I moved forward and wrapped my arms under his arms and placed my hands on his chest. He brought his hands up to mine

“I was hoping you’d come” He confessed

“You wanted me to?” I asked, pecking his shoulder blade while I rested my forehead on his back

“Yes” He replied, turning to face me. His eyes stared through mine as water poured over the both of us. He lifted his hand to the side of my face and ran his thumb over my cheek. His eyes raced between mine and my lips. I opened my mouth slightly, sure of what I wanted him to do next, but unsure if he would.

He leaned in and I felt his soft lips touch mine tenderly. I kissed him back as I brought my hand up to the back of his neck pulling him down into me more. Deepening the kiss his tongue begged at my lips for entry, to which I granted, a small moan leaving my throat. He pushed me up against the wall of the shower as he reached for the hem of my sweatshirt and pulled it up over my head throwing it down in a wet heap on the shower floor.

A moan escaped my lips as he moved his mouth from mine down my neck to my breasts, heaving under his touch. I watched the water bead off of his back as he worked his way down my body leaving soft kisses in his wake. When he reached the hem of my jeans he fumbled with the button, looking up at me for approval. I nodded, leaning my head against the wall as he kissed my hip bones.

He unbuttoned my jeans and slid his hands down both sides of my hips shimmying my jeans down to the floor, leaving me in a black lacy bra and underwear.

He stood back up, returning his soft lips to mine “You are so beautiful. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this” he said

“Show me” I practically begged between kisses.

I reached around and unclasped my bra and let it fall off my arms to the floor. His hands moving to cup my breasts then moving up to pin my arms above my head as he again laid a trail of kisses down from my neck, stopping to nibble and suck gently on each nipple.

I couldn’t help but pull my now unrestrained hand down to grab into his hair. Pulling his head back slightly to make his eyes meet mine while his bottom lip still pulled against the skin of my stomach, had me aching between my legs for his touch.

He hooked his thumbs through the sides of my panties, grabbing the front between his teeth. As he took his time moving them down he kissed every new inch of exposed skin, lingering when he reached my wet core.

When my panties finally fell to the floor he stood back up forcefully lifting me by the back of my thighs to wrap my legs around his waist.

“Are you sure you want to do this” he asked, burying his head into the crook of my neck, sounding needy and desperate

“Yes, please E. I want all of you” I reassured him, digging my nails slightly into the back of his neck while the other hand clung to his back.

He aligned our bodies and entered me slowly, letting me adjust to his size. I leaned my head back against the wall, eyes rolling into the back of my head, letting a soft moan leave my throat

“Are you okay?” he asked softly

“Yes, God yes. I want you so bad E” I whined trying to push myself onto him to feel him completely.

When he pushed himself all the way in another moan left my throat, this time joined with his own gutteral grunt.

I leaned my head forward, meeting his forehead with mine as he quickened his pace moving roughly in and out, stretching me to my limit and then pulling almost all the way out before ramming in again.

I gripped his shoulders tightly as my moans and screams of his name became uncontrollable. The grunts and moans that came from him only turned me on more. He had always been so gentle with me, this side of him was so sexy.

“Ethan, I’m gonna... I’m almost there” I managed to squeak out as I neared my peak, my toes curling behind his back

“Yes baby, do it, cum for me... God you are so beautiful” He spoke between thrusts

As I I hit my peak and rolled my head back against the wall, I dug my nails into Ethan’s shoulders and tightened my core around his cock. While I rode my high he started to quicken his pace even more. I could tell he was almost there because his thrusts became sloppy and his moans became breathy and desperate.

“I’m on birth control E, I want you to fill me” I whispered in his ear between his moans. He shook his head and squeezed his eyes as he thrusted again, drawing a moan from both of us.

His body caved as he gently put my feet back on the ground and wrapped his arms around my waist, leaning his head to rest on my shoulder as he stood in front of me.

“Be with me” he finally spoke

“I am E, I’m right here” I tried reassuring him as I smoothed his wet hair back

“No, Y/N, be with me... be my girl” he lifted his head to meet my eyes, placing a soft kiss on my lips

I took a moment to just watch how the water beaded off of his eyebrow, leading its way down his face to his chest. I brought my hand up to trace the droplet with my finger. When I brought my eyes back to his I nodded.

“Is that a yes?” he asked smiling

“Yes, Ethan. I know you thought it was Grayson. But I realized today at the beach that it’s you. It’s always been you E”

He lifted me up and spun me around making me giggle before he put me down

“You don’t know how badly I wanted to hear you say that. I promise I will make you happy every day. I want to be the man you deserve” he said placing his forehead to mine, lacing his fingers into my hair at the base of my neck

“You already are Ethan”

________________

A/N: Guys I am so sorry if this sucked! I’ve been wanting to write this chapter for so long but I suck at smut!

Tag List: @graydolan12

#ethan dolan #ethan dolan imagine #ethan dolan fanfic #grayson dolan #grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan fanfic #dolan twins #dolan twins imagine #dolan twins fanfic #Ethan Dolan Fluff #Ethan Dolan Smut

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