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luvdsc · 4 years

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mark lee sucks at technology.

tap the heart if you have a big, fat, embarrassing crush on your best friend!

pairing :: lee mark x reader genre :: fluff / best friend + social influencer au word count :: 5,883 words warnings :: none playlist :: dumb stuff (lany) ⋆ feeling (coin) ⋆ so far so good (gabrielle aplin) ⋆ electric love (børns) ⋆ love by mistake (bad suns) author’s note :: i was debating if i should post it on his bday instead, but i decided to drop it earlier, so uh, happy (approx. one week early) bday to mister absolutely fully capable (except when it comes to tech stuff) !!!! thank you for blessing us with your god tier raps ♡ ↳ part of the not clickbait series.

In your required upper division business course aptly titled “Essential Marketing Strategies,” you had learned about a concept called personal brands. A personal brand is explained as the first impression a person wishes to perceive based on their own experiences, qualifications, and achievements. Your professor had told you and your classmates to pick three words to define your own brand. For instance, you chose to label yourself as charismatic, fun, and creative.

Your best friend’s brand would be awkward, endearing, and technologically challenged.

Okay, so that is definitely more than three words, but who’s counting? You might as well tack on “Y/N’s big fat crush” at this rate because everyone and their mother knows that you carry a torch—or more accurately, a blazing wildfire that can easily be spotted from Pluto—for your best friend.

Well, to be more precise, you should probably say everyone, except Mark, knows. And that’s not for lack of trying either. You completely dropped the art of delicate subtlety months ago already. Maybe you should add “hopelessly oblivious” instead.

The rolling end credits to the sixth Harry Potter film are playing on the screen in front of you, signaling the nearing end of your magical movie marathon. You’re seated on the worn down couch in Mark and Donghyuck’s shared apartment, watching the former make his drink with the fancy, gently used Keurig newly settled on the scratched countertop. Johnny dropped it off a few days ago because he had splurged on a better coffee machine (“It even makes Instagram worthy whipped frappuccinos!”) and didn’t want his old, but still perfectly functioning caffeine provider going to waste.

“What’s wrong with this thing?” Mark slaps the side of the machine, and it starts to emit a low whirring noise. “Oh, that’s good, right? That sound is good, you think?”

His question is immediately answered by the sad squirt of hot water speckled with coffee grinds falling into his mug for a few seconds before the machine shuts off.

“What the hell?” he mutters angrily, carding his hand through his hair in frustration, and you finally decide to take pity on your best friend. Getting up from the comfy spot you know you sadly won’t be able to recreate perfectly again later, you stride over to where your best friend stands and flip open the top of the Keurig.

“Hyuck didn’t take out his used coffee pod,” you say, pulling out the incriminating evidence of your best friend’s roommate and disposing it in the trash can next to the refrigerator. “Where’s the espresso one you’re gonna use? Why didn’t you put that in?”

His jaw slackens, and he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze and mumbling, “I thought I’d just open it later and pour it into my hot water.”

“Mark,” you start, placing your hands on his shoulders firmly and staring into his eyes with a serious look on your face. “Please know that I’m saying this in the most loving way possible, but you are an absolute idiot.”

You release your grip on his shoulders and grab the espresso pod dangling from his fingertips before slotting it into the Keurig. You remove the mug he placed underneath the spout and wash out the accidental coffee water before placing it back in its original position and pressing the start button on the machine. With a sigh, you lean against the side of the counter, glancing at your friend who looks like a child being scolded for stealing from the cookie jar.

“If you pour the pod into your mug, are you just going to chug all the loose coffee grinds, too?”

“... I didn’t think that far ahead.” His lips start to unintentionally form a tiny pout, and your eyes (and your heart, too) soften.

You’re very relieved that Donghyuck is off filming with your friend because he definitely would be making fun of your heart eyes that frequently make an appearance around a certain Mark Lee. Which you always deny. Because you certainly do not have a gigantic crush on your technologically inept best friend.

You glance over at him again and have to physically fight yourself to resist the urge to kiss his cute pout away. Okay, so maybe you harbor a very respectable, medium sized crush. But it's no big deal. It’s completely under control. Unless you’re counting the fact that your best friend is still unaware, and you’re running out of ideas to try and see if he likes you back before you actually shoot your shot. Then it’s very much not under control because you’re losing sleep over it and you don’t know what to do to be any more obvious without stating the, well, obvious.

“Well, now you know. If you forget, you can FaceTime me and I’ll give you instructions on how it works.” You pat his shoulder reassuringly before pausing. “Wait, you do know how to FaceTime, right?”

“Yes!” he exclaims, sulking even more before confessing in a quieter, defeated tone, “Hyuck showed me last month.”

Mark grabs his finished drink and follows behind you, settling back onto the couch next to you. The streaming service already has Deathly Hallows Part 1 in the queue and ready to go, and your best friend is ready to click play until he notices your attention being focused on the smaller screen in your hands. He wonders if you’re about to post another one of your popular cooking videos on that app that shares a name with the most iconic song of the 2000s (hint: the name of the song’s singer is made up of four letters and a dollar sign).

“Are you uploading one of your videos?” he implores before taking a sip of his drink with a satisfied smile. Somehow, it always tastes better when you make it, and he can’t figure out why for the life of him. When he went to Johnny’s place, his older friend uses the exact same pod and water ratio for his espresso, and yet, it’s never as good as yours.

“Nah, I’m ordering my grocery delivery before I forget. Do you want anything?” You select the option to load your usual grocery items into your cart before debating on whether or not you should splurge on buying several packages of those seasonal Pillsbury sugar cookies that only come in stock during certain holidays. It seems like such an insult to the entire premise of your Tiktok account based on baking and cooking, but you’re an absolute sucker for those soft pastries.

“Yeah, can you get me a Shin Ramyun ten pack? Hyuck ate the last one two days ago and didn’t tell me.”

“You sure you don’t want ten boxes again?” You decide to get those Pillsbury sugary delights, happily adding three boxes to your cart. Everybody has a weakness, and yours just so happens to be a premade one way ticket to diabetes. You’re here for a good, delicious time, not a long time.

“No! That was an accident!” He objects, flailing his hands around, before falling back against the couch cushions in defeat. “But Hyuck does all the online grocery shopping now.”

“Thank god. You guys finally have quality toilet paper again.”

The past month of bathroom occurrences was plagued with scratchy tissue that felt more like goddamn sandpaper from the horrible depths of hell. To be honest, you probably would have rather used actual sandpaper, given the choice. You even made sure not to drink too much water any time you came over, but today, you decided to splurge on a venti passion fruit iced tea with sweetener from that very popular franchise sporting a mermaid logo and fiscally cosmic name. To your pleasant surprise, your trip to the toilet this time was wonderfully padded with Charmin Ultra Soft, not that absolutely awful off brand one with the gross texture of a dried pinecone from inferno.

“Hey, that toilet paper was a good steal! It was a three for one deal,” Mark protests, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“Wow, I wonder why it was priced so low.” You deadpan, and Mark blanches, recalling all those restroom incidents that were rather rough. Literally.

“Anyway, do you think my viewers wanna see me make chocolate crinkle cookies or mochi doughnuts?” You bring up the two recipes you managed to perfect and add your own spin to on your phone, eyes scanning the ingredient lists.

“Both. And tell me when you’re making them, so I can come over and eat them.” He gives you a wide grin, and you let out a snort at that. His smile only grows as he says happily, “I love your job.”

“You only love it because you can freeload off of me,” you jest, but nevertheless begin to start to add all the ingredients for both recipes to your shopping cart. You always film cooking videos on Tuesdays, edit on Wednesdays, keep Thursdays free for last minute touch ups and emergencies, and post one every week on Fridays with other various random videos uploaded whenever in between. With that in mind, you schedule your upcoming grocery delivery for Monday.

“Hey, you need me. I’m the best taste tester.” He puffs up his chest proudly before hastily tacking on a more genuine reason. “And because I’d starve without you. I can’t live off of instant ramen and frozen chicken nuggets forever. Gordon Ramsay already confirmed my shitty cooking skills. I need you to survive.”

“Oh my god, when I uploaded those pics of your scrambled eggs on Twitter, I lost like a hundred followers in less than a minute.” You confirm the delivery and place your phone on the coffee table, picking up the opened bag of Cheeto puffs before settling back in your seat. “My cooking credibility was completely shot. I had to explain to my fans that I didn’t make those.”

“Yeah, but now everyone calls me Eggy Boi online!” he whines, and you laugh. You have to admit, it’s quite a funny play on the whole “edgy boi” terminology. You wonder if Mark will find it amusing if he discovers his roommate is the culprit behind his new online persona (He probably won’t, and you reckon Donghyuck enjoys living in a safe space where he doesn’t have to sleep with one eye open, so you stay quiet about it. You’ll use it as leverage some other time).

“Okay, Eggy Boi, come by on Tuesday because I’ll be baking in the afternoon,” you say casually, grabbing the remote control from your best friend and pressing play.

You very narrowly avoid a green gummy bear to the face. It lands somewhere behind the couch, lost forever to the dust bunnies and other snacks that missed its target. You know for a fact that it’ll stay there until the boys decide to move to a new apartment. Mark grumbles at the miss, biting off the head of a red cherry flavored gummy bear perhaps a little harder than necessary.

“I hate you. But I’m still coming over next week because I want a doughnut.”

“No cookie?”

“... and a cookie. Maybe two.”

Wednesday comes faster than you expected, and you’re currently holed up in your apartment’s second bedroom—which you had transformed into a snazzy office space—completing the edits to your second video on mochi doughnuts. You already finished polishing the one about the cookies earlier, thank goodness. If you had to stare at your computer screen for another three hours, you would rather eat those pastries Mark tried to make two months ago, but had mistaken salt for sugar. Adding a cup of salt to any baked good is an extremely effective way to make anyone who tasted your best friend’s brownies experience a trip to the beach. Because they essentially just swallowed a mouthful of sand and ocean water. Because it’s salty as heck. Just like Mark was when you told him.

Speaking of your best friend, he’s currently puttering around in your kitchen doing god knows what. He knows better than to try another recipe and possibly blow up your number one moneymaker—your prized oven—in the process. Your heart nearly drops when your ears pick up the faint chopping sounds of a knife against your wooden cutting board. Is he going to try to temper chocolate again? He nearly burned through your entire stock of dark, milk, and white chocolate last time.

After much contemplation and deciding that you deserve a good procrastination break and a fully intact kitchen, you’re about to go out and see what he’s up to when Mark timidly appears in your doorway, clutching onto a white bowl of watermelon cubes with a fork tucked neatly in it. He shuffles in, dropping the snack on your desk before turning to walk out without a word, not wanting to disturb your work mode.

Your heart warms up at the sight, and you speak up, a small smile slipping into your face. “What’s this for?”

“Knowing you, you probably haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.” He pauses in the doorway and adds on sheepishly, “And I can't cook anything, so this is what you get.”

Your heart swells tenfold, and your smile widens even more as you spear a piece of fruit with the fork and quickly pop it into your mouth. “Thanks, Marky.”

His cheeks flush with a pretty shade of carmine, and he fails to suppress the little giddy smile that appears on his face at your nickname for him. He walks out of your office, reddened cheeks still rising up higher than ever. “Y-Yeah, of course. No problem.”

By the time you finish adding the final few touches to your edited video, the bowl of watermelon has been picked clean. You save your video and transfer both of your completed projects to your phone, making a mental note to schedule their uploads and add them to your account’s posting queue later. Shoving your phone in the pocket of your sweats after ensuring the successful transfer of your videos, you pick up the empty dish and walk out towards the kitchen, the silver fork clinking against the side of the bowl with every step.

As you wash the dish and utensil, Mark wanders over from his spot on the couch, leaning forward and casually placing his chin on your shoulder. Almost instantaneously, you feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you briefly fantasize about your best friend wrapping his arms around your waist and how domestic and sweet the two of you would look, like one of those cheesy couples the two of you always made fun of.

“What’s up?” you ask, making a conscious effort to hold your voice steady and not waver over the fact that Mark is basically draped over you. After you place the dish on the drying rack, you turn around to face your best friend, sorely miscalculating the distance as mere inches separate your face from his now.

“I—” Puberty decides to make an ugly appearance in the form of an ill timed voice crack, and he internally curses as he takes a step back, willing the incoming blush to go away. Letting out a small cough, he tries again, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“I, um, Jisung sent me some kind of dance video. He said it’s a challenge? I kinda don’t know what to do with it? Like do I make a new dance, record myself, and send it back? Actually, isn't it easier to just do a dance battle face to face?”

“Can I see the video?” You already have a good idea on what the video will be, but you want to confirm it. Mark fumbles with his phone, pulling up the video in his text messages. He angles the phone towards you for you to see, and you grab his hand, bringing the device a little closer to you for a better look and clicking play.

“Oh, it’s a Tiktok challenge! He’s doing the Say So dance!” you exclaim, recognizing the song almost immediately as your eyes follow the fluid dance moves, completely enthralled. “So a challenge isn’t going up against someone, like a battle. It’s just some kind of trend or concept that you try to copy yourself. You’re supposed to learn the same dance and record yourself for this one. I can show you some other challenges and help you practice and record this one tomorrow if you wanna drop by after work!”

“O-Oh, okay, sounds good.” Mark stumbles over his words, attempting to focus on what you’re saying and the dance Jisung is doing, but all he can think about is the way your body is pressed against his side, hand comfortably wrapped around his. He freezes up as the tips of his ears grow redder and redder with every passing second, and his face sports a similar color. He silently prays for the telltale crimson to go away by the time the dance is over.

When the video ends, you once again realize the close proximity between you and your best friend. Your face burns at this revelation, and you awkwardly take a step back. Clearing your throat, you hastily release Mark’s hand (He inaudibly lets out the breath he’s been holding in this entire time, yet he also already misses the way your hand felt grasping his).

“Uh, anyway, I’m gonna make a latte. Do you want a drink, too?” You walk towards the other side of your kitchen with Mark trailing behind you. You take out a floral, peachy colored mug from your cupboards before pausing and looking at your best friend. “Wait, do you remember how to use a Keurig?”

“Yes!” He says, slightly exasperated as he picks out his own cup from your cabinet. He always uses the same one—a cerulean blue mug with squiggles all over it—and all of your friends and guests know not to use it because it’s unofficially officially Mark’s mug (And perhaps, you did indeed buy it from that overpriced kitschy tableware shop down the street two years ago with your best friend in mind).

“Really?” You select the latte option and press start after you had already positioned the mug beneath the spout and inserted a green tea matcha pod. He finally relents, shoulders sagging and a defeated expression on his face.

“... No.”

You chuckle, taking the mug from him and carefully putting it on the counter. You grab the espresso pod you know he likes from the drawer below and place it next to the cup. “It’s okay, I’ll teach you again.”

Mark tries. He really does. He tries very hard to concentrate on memorizing the simple process, but he keeps getting distracted. His eyes are focused on the correct button to push before they start to trail up to your fingertips. And then, they go from your hand to your arm, then up to the elegant curve of your neck, and finally, to the way your lashes frame your pretty eyes and how the tip of your tongue sticks out slightly as you concentrate until all he can focus on is you, you, you.

Suddenly, in what feels like a blink of an eye, you’re done and handing him his finished drink, complete with a perfectly whipped milk foam on top. You ask him if he knows how to make it now, and all he can do is lie and nod with a barely convincing smile.

After all, how can Mark tell his best friend that the reason he never remembers is because you’re the biggest distraction?

Mark should be here in five minutes, according to his most recent text message. And in the text message below that, your friend had sent you a challenge. More specifically, it’s the one she completed with Donghyuck a few weeks ago. When you said you wanted bold suggestions on how to figure out if your best friend feels the same way about you as you do about him, you didn’t want one this bold.

Yet, the video link to your friend’s “today I kissed my best friend” challenge along with a winky face from her is staring mockingly at you. While you aren’t one to back down from a challenge, the mere thought of kissing your best friend causes vast colonies of butterflies to erupt in your stomach and your ears to feel as if they have caught on fire. You’re already tongue tied with your head in the clouds, and he isn’t even here yet. How utterly fantastic.

However, your mother definitely did not raise a quitter, so you spring into action when you hear the faint jingling of a key being inserted into your apartment’s door (You had given Mark a copy of your key almost immediately after you had moved in). You move the pretty indoor fern given to you by Jaemin as a housewarming gift last year closer to the edge of your towering bookcase, leaning your phone against it. You quickly position the device to capture a good view of the couch area in your living room and press the record button, arranging a few of the leaves to hide as much of your phone as you possibly can without obstructing the lens.

You run full speed to your bedroom, letting out a sigh of relief when you’re safely inside and hear Mark finally unlocking the door successfully and shuffling in. When he calls out to you, you try to even out your breathing, walking out of your room with your tripod and laptop in hand.

“Hey,” you greet him in the most casual tone you can muster. You place the tripod down and sit before opening your laptop and setting it on the coffee table. “I thought we could watch a few challenges for fun before trying the Say So one. Have you watched Jisung’s videos before?”

“Um, well, no, not really,” he confesses sheepishly, taking a seat next to you on the couch, leg pressing against yours. He squints at the YouTube video you pulled up earlier before he had arrived, reading the title before clicking the space button to start it. “Savage Tiktok dance compilation part two?”

“Wait, hold up.” You pause the video and then turn to face him with an incredulous expression on your face. “You’ve never watched any of Jisung’s dance Tiktoks?”

“No… I don’t even have an account.” His cheeks are dusted with the lightest shade of pink as he quietly admits, “I watch all of yours though.”

Your eyes widen at his confession, face heating up as you stammer out, “O-Oh, well, I can help you make an account later to upload your video.”

“Sounds good.” There’s a few seconds of silence as you mull over his previous words before he speaks up again awkwardly, “Should I, uh, play the video?”

“Oh! Yes, right! Of course, hit play,” you laugh nervously, twisting and playing with the hair tie around your wrist. He starts the video again, and the two of you watch the compilation, slowly relaxing once more as you tap your fingers to the rhythm of the song and he bobs his head to the beat.

“Do I have to change outfits like that?” he questions a few minutes later, eyes growing round as he sees the girl on the screen switch between four different outfits throughout the dance. His closet basically consists of the same five black shirts that he stole from Jaehyun. Even if he did do an outfit swap, there would literally be no difference at all.

“You don’t have to,” you assure him, clicking the enter key to play the next video that’s recommended: another Tiktok dance challenge compilation. “All you have to do is copy the dance.”

Mark nods, taking a glance at the laptop screen before his hand shoots out and he pauses the video, leaning forward to take a closer look at the little recommended video title banner at the top. “Wait! What’s that one?”

He clicks on it, the new video now loading up. The two of you wait patiently for it to begin, waiting for the spinning disc to stop. But it doesn’t. In fact, the whole chrome page goes blank and then, the little pixelated Google Chrome dinosaur pops up on your monitor, announcing that you have no internet connection. Furrowing your eyebrows, you try to reload the page before trying to re-establish your laptop connection to your wifi. Unfortunately, you cannot find your appropriately named “drop it like it’s hotspot” wifi anywhere to connect to.

And that’s when it hits you. Your landlord had sent out a notice to the entire apartment complex last week about the electricity being powered down today from 4 to 6 p.m. for a maintenance check, and a quick glance at the digital clock on your laptop shows that it’s a little past four.

You groan, closing your laptop and flopping back against the couch cushions dramatically. Mark cocks his head, slightly confused, before he pokes you in the arm. “What’s wrong?”

“I completely forgot about the scheduled electricity shutdown for the entire building. We won’t have any wifi for the next two hours.” You pout, your bottom lip jutting out in the slightest, and Mark doesn’t think it’s fair that you get to be this cute and have this much of an effect on his racing heart rate.

“That’s okay, we can… play some board games?” he suggests offhandedly, pushing away the embarrassing thought and nudging your leg with his, and you smile before a sudden idea occurs to you.

“Or we can still do some Tiktok challenges! What was the challenge you clicked on?” You quickly sit upright, turning to face your best friend, eyes sparkling in excitement. “I memorized a few of the dance ones already! Was it Renegade? I can teach you that one. Jisung showed me how to do it.”

“Um,” he starts, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. His eyes dart everywhere, except you, as he lets out a feigned cough. “It wasn’t a dance one. It was about, uh, going up to your boyfriend… and um, hugging him... when he’s playing video games.”

“Oh.” You answer lamely, not knowing what to say. You unsuccessfully try to push away the image of you attempting that challenge with your best friend. “Those are really cute.”

“Really?” He says doubtfully, wrinkling his eyebrows and fiddling with the frayed sleeve of his sweater. “Wouldn’t the dude get mad?”

You don’t know what suddenly possessed you to do this (you’ll have to ask Renjun and his paranormal loving ass later), but you thank whatever demon did for that split second because you find yourself gently grabbing Mark’s arm and slipping your head underneath it. You swing one leg over his lap and settle down until you’re securely sitting in his lap, bent legs on either side of his hips, hands curled around the soft fabric of his sweater on both sides and resting on top of your thighs. His arms instinctively go around your waist, wrapping around you securely.

You tilt your head to the side slightly, studying the flustered boy in front of you with a teasing, albeit a little anxious, smile on your lips. “Are you feeling mad?”

Splotches of red litter his cheeks and decorate the tips of his ears, but your best friend furiously shakes his head at your question, bashfully ducking his head afterwards and muttering a soft “No.”

You swallow hard, heart pounding erratically in your chest as you timidly ask, “Would you be mad if I do this?”

Mark looks up at that, confusion written all over his face. His arms start to loosen around your figure, hands now resting on your waist. “If you do what?”

You take a deep breath. “This.”

You lean in and gently press your lips against his. Mark freezes in shock, and you quickly retreat soon after, gnawing at the inside of your cheek as you wait anxiously for his reaction. Your heart feels like it’s about to fall out of your chest and be buried six feet under.

A tiny noise of surprise belatedly escapes from him and crimson spreads across his cheeks like wildfire. His doe eyes are wide and sparkling, staring at you in bewilderment. Your best friend lets out a small laugh of disbelief before a full blown smile breaks out across his face. He gazes at you adoringly, breathing out softly, “I’m not mad at that.”

You perk up at that, draping your arms around his neck as you lean forward, beaming. “Really? You’re not?”

“Definitely not.”

This time, Mark meets you halfway, his lips slotting against yours perfectly and making you feel tingles up and down your spine. Your eyes are closed, and you are so hyper aware of the way his hands grip your hips, how he tugs you closer, and how his lips chase after yours. The number of butterflies from earlier multiply in your stomach, and you have ascended past cloud nine by now.

When the two of you break apart, your eyes flutter open, and you nudge your nose against his affectionately. The brightest grin blooms on his face once again, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his little giggles and hiding the awfully vibrant cerise that rapidly blossoms on his face.

“Is this a good time to tell you congrats for completing your first challenge?” you say, resting your cheek against the crown of his head. You pull away when he lifts his head up, surprised.

“I wasn’t playing video games though,” he says slowly, processing your words and thinking back to the challenge that started this all.

“It was a different challenge. It’s the one that Hyuck did a few weeks ago,” you confess, and realization dawns on him, his face lighting up for a split second before a look of horror takes over.

“Oh, no. Is that why you had your phone recording on the bookshelf?” Mark asks, dread beginning to cloud his mind.

“Yes…” you say slowly, a little perplexed. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Oh my god, I ruined your video,” he moans, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder. “I saw your phone when I walked in and thought you were filming earlier and forgot to turn it off, so I turned it off for you.”

When the words finally register in your mind, you can’t stop the laughter from bubbling out of your throat, and he raises his head up to look at you with wide doe eyes at the pretty sound. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

You can’t stop laughing at the situation, and he looks at you worriedly, gnawing on his bottom lip slightly. You force yourself to calm down, a soft chuckle leaving your lips before you beam at him, leaning in and placing the softest kiss on the tip of his nose. “It’s okay, Mark. I’m not mad. That video wasn’t important anyway.”

“But still,” he whines before letting out a groan and slapping his hand against his forehead when the realization sinks in even further. “I’m such an idiot.”

“But you’re my idiot now, right?” you say teasingly, albeit a little shyly as well, as you reach over to tug his hand away from his face and lace your fingers with his.

“I mean, I kinda thought I was always your idiot,” Mark laughs softly and a little embarrassedly, eyes averted and cheeks turning pinker than ever. The largest grin spreads across your face at that, and you turn away slightly to hide it. You didn’t think your best friend can possibly be any more endearing, but he manages to prove you wrong every time.

“Well, then now you can add ‘Y/N’s boyfriend’ to your resume,” you say, and he fails to suppress the pleased smile appearing on his face at your remark, his rosy cheeks rising even taller than skyscrapers.

“So, uh, what sort of job description does that have?” He gazes at your intertwined hands in wonder, still completely giddy at the reality of you being his best friend and something more.

“Sharing hoodies, giving me attention, kissing, holding my hand, going on dates, you know, the basics,” you answer, squeezing his hand tenderly, and his doe eyes instantly light up. Mark feels a little bolder than before, and it shows when he grins widely and says:

“Can we do number three again?”

“Yes, we can, Eggy Boi.”

He wrinkles his nose at the name, disgruntled and unimpressed, as he crosses his arms over his chest, sulking. You let out a laugh before leaning in and crashing your lips against his. He immediately relents at that, enthusiastically responding and hugging you closer to him, and you can’t help but smile into the kiss as you feel his own smile appear as well.

At that moment, you decide that you want to change Mark’s personal brand. Because his should be “absolutely wonderful, positively amazing, a cute kisser, your boyfriend, and your bestest friend.” And yes, that is most definitely more than the allotted three words, but again, who’s really counting?

Certainly not you when you’re too preoccupied with kissing your best friend. Correction: best friend and new boyfriend.

One new notification: donutkillmyvibe uploaded a new video!

moominjun commented:

so you’re saying the reason why we didn’t get the highly anticipated best friend challenge video is because @ marklyrawr turned the camera off?

donutkillmyvibe replied: yes 😔 I’m sorry to disappoint everyone 🤧

nanaislove replied: omg no bby it’s ok 🥺🥺💞💓💓💝💗 you didn’t have to make an apology video for that 🥺💗💓💘💖

goofys.chuckle replied: yeah it’s mark’s fault. he’s the disappointment here 🥴

morklyrawr replied: hahahahaha stfu hyuck

tytrack commented:

mark is going through puberty. I apologize

dobunny replied: @.@

goofys.chuckle commented:

are we getting whip(ped)lash pt 2 by eggy boi?

morklyrawr replied: YOU’RE THE ONE WHO STARTED THAT NAME?????

goofys.chuckle replied: uh gotta blast 🚀

showmethemonet replied: @ goofys.chuckle does this mean you’re staying over again?

goofys.chuckle replied: @ showmethemonet yes if you want your super cute, mega talented, very handsome boyfriend to still be alive 🥺

showmethemonet replied: @ goofys.chuckle oh my god I didn’t know I was dating bts jin???

moominjun replied: LMFAOOOOO

goofys.chuckle replied: heart 💔 been broke 📉 so many times ⏰ i don’t know 🤔 what to believe 💯 mama 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 said 🗣 it’s my fault 😢 it’s my fault 🤦🏻‍♂️i wear my heart ❤️ on my sleeve 💪 i think it’s best 👍🏻 I put my heart ❤️ on ice 🧊

jenojam commented:

why am I not surprised……

itsmebetch replied: just mark thingz 🍉

suhprisemf commented:

mark your head looks flat af

jungjaeprince replied: 😂😂😂

10vely replied: @ jungjaeprince be quiet don’t cry

letswonwon commented:

whoop whoop

junguwu commented:

OMG CONGRATS ON YOUR RELATIONSHIP SWEETIE 😍😍

takoyaki_prince commented:

MARK!!!!! you look handsome !! 😘

jisungpwark commented:

rip to @ donutkillmyvibe ’s future videos that mark will ruin. press f in the chat to pay respects 🙏🏻

bigheadking replied: F ✊🏻😔

peachyangel replied: f 🥺🥺

yoitslucas replied: F 🤪🤪🤪 but glad you’re happy, man ❤️

donutkillmyvibe replied: F 💔

morklyrawr replied: @ donutkillmyvibe wtf babe????

officialgordonramsay commented:

didn’t i tell you to get back on tinder ?

apado_god commented:

nice 😎👍🏻

3K notes · View notes

sneezefiction · 3 years

Text

of night owls & early birds

Kuroo x Reader

desc: Kuroo, your roommate and longtime best friend, likes you but he really dislikes your sleep schedule. alternatively, your crush gets up way too early and you “suffer the consequences.”

a/n: the irony of working on this fic at 5 am doesn’t escape me… but it also hasn’t assuaged my awful sleep patterns. i hope you enjoy!!

warnings: school/general anxiety, crass/offbeat humor (jokes about planning your own funeral), idk if you’re scared of love don’t read this - it’s very fluffy.

wc: 3.6k

--- You’re screwed, you think, as a light flickers on just outside of your room. It illuminates the carpet underneath your doorway with a warm orange tint.

And though it shouldn’t make your heart jump into your throat, it does.

You’d promised, swore to Kuroo, that you’d be asleep by 2 am - and to him, even that was a stretch. But he should count himself lucky that you’d even agreed to his demands at all.

After all, he is well-versed in the world of night owls.

Kenma, though maybe not your kindred spirit, shares at least a couple of qualities with you. Kuroo likes refer to these “qualities” as crimes.

One of these crimes (and quite possibly Kuroo’s least favorite) is your god-awful sleep schedule. And you’re a repeated offender.

There was only so much nagging and bickering you could take before you’d cracked and told exactly him what he wanted to hear. In a flurry of words, you’d agreed to turn off your laptop, close up your textbooks and actually put your head to a pillow.

You also may have been bribed.

To sweeten this deal, Kuroo had promised to buy you pizza this upcoming Friday, given that you actually did get some rest.

But as you reluctantly lift your phone, the glass screen glowing a little too brightly, you realize that it’s already 5:30 am.

You grimace.

It’s Tuesday morning. Meaning that the repetitive beeping across the hall is Kuroo’s alarm.

Your lips press into a firm line. Most birds don’t even get up at such a godless hour.

You can’t help but wonder what it’s like to have a functional morning routine. Or a morning routine at all.

Leaning back in your plastic desk chair, you squeeze your eyes shut.

It stings.

You probably got so caught up staring at the blob-like words on your computer screen that, somewhere in the process, your body had forgotten how to blink.

And while the tension in your neck and shoulders is painful, it’s nothing in comparison to the festering guilt of not listening to your longtime best friend and now roommate (a suspiciously well-intentioned college boy who had somehow managed to win your heart over the course of this fall semester.)

Thinking back, working on your final English assignment at midnight wasn’t the brightest of ideas. It wasn’t even due for another week. But as due dates loomed, the impending fear of a bad grade had begun to burrow deeply within you.

If you could just pump the brakes on deadline anxiety, you wouldn’t feel so pressured to type incoherent sentences at odd and empty hours of the night.

And maybe Kuroo wouldn’t feel the need to coerce you into a firmer sleep schedule. Though you do find this caring habit of his to be inexplicably endearing.

Thus, the prickling feeling continues to infiltrate your restless mind and the brewing concoction of anxiety and guilt in your tummy makes you feel uneasy.

But before you can sneak into bed and tuck yourself inconspicuously under the covers, you hear a floorboard creak.

As if on instinct, you hold in a breath.

Kuroo isn’t one to forget about little promises. Of course, he’d want to know if you’d made good on your side of the deal.

Gently, you close your laptop and swivel your chair to face the door. You still your movements, keeping your body taut against the back of your chair.

More soft steps fall just outside of your room.

Your eyes can’t pick a place to land, so they choose to wander. And with a quick scan of your room, it doesn’t take you long to realize that your bedside lamp had been left on - an instant giveaway.

You begin planning for your funeral.

However, if it were up to you, you wouldn’t go out this way. You prepare yourself for death by interrogation or shame-induced coma.

Regrettably, neither options seem very interesting to you. If you ask politely, maybe your friends will engrave a portion of an epic poem into your gravestone just to make your passing seem more sophisticated. Yeah, that sounds nice and pretentious.

Okay, you might be overdramatizing things - Kuroo would never send you to your grave. But that doesn’t change the fact that your psyche likes to play tricks on you in the wee hours of the morning and that the eerie quality of the atmosphere somehow reminds you of a cemetery.

As you sort through who-gets-what on your will, there’s a not so sudden knock on your door. The soft tap makes your heart skip for two reasons:

The first being that you still haven’t gotten used to the fluttering in your chest from him being present all the time. Developing a crush on him (and suspecting feeling on his side) had made you a little jumpier over the past few months.

And the second had to do with the fact that you were actually going to have to talk to him about this. To apologize for being a bold-faced liar. It wasn’t clear to you whether you’d be teased or reprimanded. And honestly? You’re not sure which option would feel worse.

So you take a breath and steel yourself.

“Y/n?” A gravelly voice sounds from outside your room.

It’s tainted with sleep. You shiver.

There’s a preemptive sigh, “C’mon y/n, your light is on. I know you’re awake.”

You’ve been caught, so there’s no point in prolonging it.

“...You can come in.” You reply meekly, clenching and unclenching your fists.

The door cracks open.

That soft orange hall light floods into your room and directly into your eyes. With a squint, you try to fully visualize Kuroo. He’s positioned himself so that he’s leaning in your doorway with his arms crossed.

Before coming to grips with the situation, you scan the boy up and down. Amusingly, you realize that he has to duck his head just to fit underneath the door header - he really is tall. You have to wonder if he’ll ever stop growing.

Aside from his intensified bedhead (which doesn’t shock you) and the sleepiness in his eyes, he looks normal. But you must look positively spooked, because the moment he sees you, there’s a flicker of humor in his golden eyes… and an almost invisible smirk.

At least he isn’t angry. That fact alone allows you to let out the breath you’ve been holding in. Anger isn’t really a trait you’d ascribe to him anyway.

“It’s funny…” He wonders aloud, “I thought we’d agreed to something yesterday.” Kuroo brings a mocking hand to his chin in a thinking motion.

Your body naturally begins to shrink into your seat. You want to sigh, protest, explain yourself… anything to keep him from lecturing you. But, technically, you deserve this.

“I’m pretty sure you promised me you’d be in bed, asleep,” He emphasizes “by 2 am…”

“And” he adds, motioning evenly to your set up, “I highly doubt you’re up early just to get work done.”

You bite your lip while gripping and releasing the fabric of your sweatpants.

Kuroo isn’t a mind reader by any extent, but the body has a language of its own. Right now, your actions are murmuring signs of discomfort. And exhaustion, according to your dark circles.

Kuroo heaves out something between a sigh and a yawn before he takes another couple of steps into your room.

The sound of mattress springs and rustled bed sheets gets you to turn your head toward him, though you hesitate to meet his gaze.

He makes himself comfortable.

This is a familiar scene, Kuroo invading your space. Well, it’s less of an invasion and more of an unspoken agreement that the both of you can ‘come and go as you please’ in regards to bedrooms, granted that the “invader” knocks first.

Essentially, if Kuroo wanted company, he would find his way to you and plop himself on the edge of your bed. You would do likewise. The interaction could last 5 minutes or 3 hours depending on your mental stamina that day.

In a way, it mimicked your childhood - going over to Kenma’s and knocking relentlessly on his bedroom door until he finally let you and Kuroo tumble through the doorway together. The only difference now is in the way that you spend time together. Conversations become deeper a lot faster. Belly-laughs after a miserable day of classes are considered sacred. Study sessions are done shoulder to shoulder and with a myriad of disgusted faces when frustrated with a particularly tricky problem.

But this is different from your usual conversations. It’s sickeningly early, you haven’t slept a wink, and a tidal wave of stress from this entire semester is finally crashing into you.

“I’m sorry,” You start softly, fiddling with your fingers, “I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about this expository essay I’ve been working on and my mind is totally numb. I’m so stressed out by all of these-”

“-Classes.” He finishes for you.

You swallow, bobbing your head softly in confirmation.

“I get it.”

And just by looking at him, you know he understands. For someone so laid back and put together, Kuroo’s eyes could speak a novel’s worth of emotion and information at any given moment.

“But you’ve already spent more than enough time on it.”

Have I really? Have I actually done enough? Because it feels like I’m failing. Like I can’t seem to finish what I’ve started. I can’t even complete this paper.

But at least Kuroo sounds resolute.

He’s stating a fact, not an opinion.

And he’s not trying to be unempathetic. He does get it, he really does.

But Kuroo also sees how hard you work already. And he knows all too well that there’s only so much work you can get done in one night. You’ve got enough on your plate even without your classes, so having the extra academic pressure is just the cherry on top.

“Mm,” you hum, “yeah, I guess you of all people would know.” You hunch over and rest your elbows on your thighs, using your hands to prop your head up.

He’d been there at your most and least productive moments. On days when you were cranking out a few thousand words and nights when you could only jot down a few sentences. Hell, Kuroo had even volunteered to help you edit and format it when the time came. What kind of person offers to do that before they’ve even been asked to?

It’s just another feature of his charm, you suppose.

But you still feel stuck. Like you’re a boat stranded in the middle of the ocean and you just can’t seem the muster up the strength to pull up the anchor. The anxiety lingers.

“...It just doesn’t feel like it’s ever enough, y’know?” You breathe out.

There it is. Finally out in the open.

And Kuroo hums thoughtfully to himself.

He’s been there.

Not knowing if the effort he put into his work was having any actual effect. Being unsure as to when he should stop taking responsibility for something. Putting work, classes, and people before himself.

It’s draining; a swirling spin-cycle of exhaustion.

But he’s also been learning that “enough” is subjective. So he decides to say just that.

“Enough is a pretty vague word, don’t you think?”

You blink.

Yeah, you suppose it is.

Hopefully this isn’t another one of his bizarre epiphanies - the kind that makes you think your brain is going to implode. Sometimes Kuroo could be a little too philosophical for his and your own good. But you humor him anyway.

Shifting in your seat, you give him a stiff nod.

Satisfied with your understanding, he proceeds with his thought.

“What I mean is that we probably have totally different definitions of enough...” he drawls on, “... and different standards too.”

“Okay...”

“What I mean is that-” He sighs, running a hand through his hair, “-what’s ‘enough’ to you may not be ‘enough’ to me. And vice versa.”

Kuroo tilts his head back, brows furrowing in thought. He’s grasping for the right way to put it.

“Y/n, I think you’ve done enough. You’ve worked hard,” he points out, “and I don’t think I know anyone who deserves a break more than you do.”

That makes you pause. You lift your head up to catch his gaze - his eyes are already studying your expression. Something inside of you stops functioning because never have you seen such raw sincerity. Or maybe you have, but you’re only just now noticing it.

He gives you a gentle smile. It makes your chest ache.

“You mean it?” You half-whisper.

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

You’ve known this for years now, but Kuroo truly has a way with words. They had the ability to pierce like a harpoon or stick sweetly to you like warm honey. Even with a few (thousand) shitty jokes littered throughout your conversations, it’s only natural to be awestruck by him. By his ability to make even the most awkward of situations a little more bearable. How he subliminally knows how to soothe and temper you. You think he would make a really great businessman - he’s quite persuasive; a real salesperson.

One part of you wants to apologize to him again. Another part wants to jump up and kiss him. To tear up and cry in his arms with relief. You chalk these potential reactions up to exhaustion and hormones… but you don’t write them off entirely.

Because suddenly being 3 feet apart feels like miles. And your bed is looking terribly comfortable.

“Mind if I join you?” You ask, but you’re already moving from your seat.

He gives you an indifferent shrug - though he feels anything but.

“It’s your bed.”

Oh, you’re well aware of that fact. You can already feel heat rising to your face.

You stand up slowly, raising your arms to the ceiling in one final attempt to stretch. Then softly, you place a knee to the mattress and wedge yourself on the rest of the way until you’re sitting crisscrossed in front of him. He shifts his torso so that it’s facing you.

And now that you’re finally eye to eye, you can breathe.

He may be your crush, but you feel strangely comfortable in his presence. You always have. It’s part of what makes Kuroo... well, Kuroo. He embodies security while still pushing you out of your comfort zone. And for that, you’re grateful.

You break the silence.

“I really am sorry,” you echo your earlier apology.

You undoubtedly are. And you’re not sure why it feels like such a heavy thing to say over something as menial as a good night’s sleep.

“Hey, hey,” He soothes, reaching a hand over to ruffle your hair, “it’s no big deal, alright?”

You send him a half-hearted glare but it immediately breaks into a soft smile. His hand lingers for a moment longer than it should before he draws it away. You miss the teasing touch.

It’s becoming increasingly difficult to maintain eye-contact, but even as you look away, you note that his eyes remain concentrated on you. You can’t tell if it’s you who has moved closer or if he has. Either way, those few inches of distance have narrowed by a decent margin.

“I honestly just wanted you to get some rest. You’ve had it rough and by the looks of it-” He scans your face like he’s trying to diagnose you with something.

“Hey, watch it-” You warn, narrowing your eyes.

You already know you look tired. Kuroo loves reminding you of that in his own little way.

He smirks playfully, continuing anyway.

“-You could really use the sleep.” Kuroo’s raspy voice trails off.

“But apparently even pizza isn’t a convincing enough strategy.” He gives you a lopsided grin.

You shake your head, “Oh no, no, the pizza was very convincing.”

He scoffs, “Was it, now?” Raising his eyebrows in mock surprise, “Because you seem very awake to me.”

“Can’t we just blame this on the paper, please?” You sigh.

He furrows his brows in contemplation, “Hmm, no. I don’t think so. This is partially your fault.” A rather underwhelming response.

“A small part.”

“I’d say it's fifty-fifty.” He reasons with a raised eyebrow.

Rolling your eyes, you respond, “Okay, you can quit whatever-” You gesture to his expression, “this is.” He always managed to pull the strangest faces and you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of making you laugh.

He snorts, “Oh? I thought you liked-” Kuroo gestures to his own face, “whatever this is.”

His voice has a curious edge to it. Some might even call it flirtatious.

And you go quiet.

You can’t help but stare at him. His messy hair, his barely parted lips. The fact that Kuroo just woken up and somehow still looks this attractive to you is so annoying. So frustrating.

And words are failing you.

It was an innocent comment. He’s just messing with you like he usually does. Maybe this has all gone a little bit too far. You should probably just say good night (or good morning) and rest your eyes.

Yet you can’t shake the feeling that this could be the perfect segway into addressing your relationship.

At literally any other time of day, you might be more rational. You could reason with yourself that this is quite literally the weirdest time to bring up your feelings for him. But something in you needs to close the literal and figurative gap between you two. And, for some indecipherable reason, it has to happen right now.

Whatever the outcome, you trust that Kuroo will always be your safe place.

So you throw caution to the wind.

“Actually, Kuroo…” You begin, staring at your hands which are placed neatly on your lap. “I really do.”

His eyes snap to yours.

This time it’s Kuroo’s turn to go silent in contemplation. Taking in a steady breath becomes an act of labor.

“You… really do what?” He asks slowly, grasping for your intended meaning.

Your heart pounds.

“I really like you.” You clarify.

It isn’t at all eloquent, but it’s sincere. You’d once heard that honesty came easier late at night, but you had no idea that it applied to early mornings as well.

But you finally make sense of the words that just escaped your lips. Panic arises. In an attempt to hide, you bury your face in your hands. You wish you could put the words right back into your mouth.

“I-” You take a deep breath, “I think I spoke without thinking.” Is all you allow yourself to mumble.

You no longer trust yourself with words.

Your face, your whole body really, feels like it’s on fire. Humiliation begins to wash over you in red hot waves… but you startle when a pair of hands meet your wrists.

You lift your head.

His fingertips are warm and worn. Still decorated with calluses from his years of volleyball back in high school. You want to question why the world has withheld this touch from you for so long.

He lures your hands away from your face, grasping both of them gently. For a sensation so new, it was somehow strikingly familiar. A thumb is meditatively tracing small, slow circles in the middle of your palm.

You gawk in disbelief… and as you scan his face, you catch a hint of pink on his cheeks. You can’t say anything though - your own face feels like it’s just become 1000 degrees warmer.

“I kinda figured you might,” Kuroo breaks the tension rather… bluntly.

Of course he did, wait what?

“But the thing is…”

Is this some sort of rejection? Is he just letting you down gently? Is that why he’s holding your hands like they’re as fragile as fine china? Then why is he looking at you so sweetly, so tenderly-

“I wanted to be the one to say it first.”

You start planning your own funeral again.

However, this time, emotional whiplash will be your stated cause of death. At least it’s a more unconventional way to go out.

“I- uh,” you swallow, “w- what did you just say?” It comes out as a stammer.

You’re squeezing his hands a little too tightly. When you recognize your modest death grip around his fingers you loosen your hold.

Kuroo smiles, his eyes crinkling slightly.

It’s nothing like that cunning smirk that you find annoying, yet so adorable. It’s also not one of his full-scale grins. It’s far too simple and reassuring. You almost don’t trust it.

“Well, in short, I like you too,” He re-explains, searching your face for a reaction, “but... I’d hoped to tell you that over pizza on Friday.” Kuroo looks away.

If you weren’t already gaping over his personal confession, you would probably be laughing at this new side of Kuroo. He looks unmistakably bashful.

It takes you a second to recover, but you finally open your mouth to respond...

But you’re cut off by Kuroo, once again. His softened expression is long gone. And, much to your dismay, he’s suddenly shifting himself off of your bed.

“It’s just too bad you didn’t keep up your end of the bargain. I guess that means there’ll be no pizza… no movie… no me.” He slowly releases your hands, knitting his brows together to feign sorrow - it looks hilariously forced, but you’re too worried about the warmth leaving your fingertips to care.

He’s teasing you like you’re his best friend.

And that’s because you are.

So then why does it feel like something’s changed? Like he’s daring you to make the next move?

Before he can pull away and leave, you tug at his hand which draws his whole body toward you.

Your heartrate spikes through the roof. When’s the last time you’ve been this close to someone? To a guy? A guy who’s shown actual living, breathing interest in you.

And he’s in your face.

Close enough that his scent, his cologne, is drowning your senses. Close enough that his breath is fanning faintly against your cheek. Close enough that you know there’s only one thing left for you to do.

Before you can think to hesitate, your lips are brushing up against his.

Intuitively, he brings his hands to your face, closing any extra distance.

Kuroo’s thumb feathers over your cheekbone, stroking it tenderly. His lips apply very little pressure and it’s unbearably delicate, but it fills you with an indescribable warmth. His lips linger just long enough for you to detect the mint from his toothpaste - he can probably taste the cinnamon tea you’ve been sipping on over the past hour. As far as kisses go, it’s reserved, but perfect for this distinct moment.

Plus, you figure, this is just the first of many longer, more eager kisses - though you can’t imagine being more breathless than you already are right now.

But you can hardly get another taste of him before those warm hands on your cheeks are prying you away. He stares. You stare back. His eyes are brimming with something warm and full. You immediately choose to label it, “affection.”

And in a much lower voice, Kuroo murmurs, “Let’s save this for later.”

You scan his face, wondering if he’s actually serious. He gradually makes his way off of the bed and onto his feet and before you can protest, Kuroo is speaking again.

“You-”

He leans down and gingerly lifts your chin with his fingers. The gentleness of his touch almost makes you flinch, but you somehow manage to hold it in the road. Though now you’re really at a loss for words.

“-need to get some good rest.”

He places a chaste kiss on your forehead.

You still feel it after he pulls away. After he closes the door. After you’ve laid you head down on your pillow in shock.

How does he expect you to fall asleep after all of that?

---

extra: this is dedicated to Izzy - our sleep schedules may be jacked up, but i’m pretty sure it’s a blessing in disguise if we’re taking our time zones into consideration. thanks for making me laugh & for not stealing my quarter of the braincell.

and to my precious friends and followers - thank you for being patient with me. it’s hard to post or even write at the moment, but i’m steadily pushing myself toward a better mindset. i appreciate your comments, likes, and the fact that y'all even bother to check out my works in the first place. i’m working on it.

also happy birthday, Tetsu. you’re a real star.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo

403 notes · View notes

matthewtkachuk · 3 years

Text

love in all its forms - rafe cameron

you love rafe cameron and he loves you too. sometimes it’s better shown than told

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

warnings: allusion to sex, light angst (duh its me), no dialogue (is that a warning? idk)

words: 1k

a/n: this has been in my drafts for ages, finally finished her up this morning. this is probably the last thing i write for obx for a while, hoping s2 will bring some more motivation

Rafe Cameron has never been big on ‘I love you’s. He loves to hear it from you - your cracked sleep-laden voice first thing in the morning, a breathless whimper when he’s inside of you, rushed and casually as you peck his lips and leave the house, softly in his ear before you fall asleep in his arms, a quick text throughout the day. There is no sweeter sound that falls from your lips than those three syllables, except maybe for your soft sighs and moans.

Growing up, he never heard the words. A dead mother and an absentee father who didn’t have the time to ensure his emotional needs were met. It worsened as he got older, saddled with responsibilities and expectations he couldn’t keep up with, his father’s absenteeism grew into cold malice, the lack of love became an intentional absence. Ward Cameron only loved two of his children, and neither of them were his only son.

And so Rafe finds the words difficult to say. He means them, oh God does he mean them. He loves you like he’s never loved anything before. When he looks at you he sees an unbridled future, the two of you against the world, surviving and thriving, despite obstacle after obstacle. He sees marriage and a white picket fence and a dog and two and a half children that he will love the way he never was loved. He sees possibilities and hope and everything he ever dreamed of. He sees love in its purest form.

While he can’t say the words back when you utter them, he shows you in so many other ways. A vase of calla lilies brought home on a random Tuesday ‘just because’ and ‘they made me think of you’. Makeshift candle lit dinners when he knows you’ve had a bad day. Always vacuuming the living room carpet before you even have a chance to ask, because he knows it is your least favorite cleaning duty. Grabbing you a blue gatorade and your favorite snack when fueling up on a road trip even though you said you didn’t want anything. Gentle lovemaking, held hands and foreheads pressed together, intermingling breaths and soft kisses on bare skin.

You treated him so good, he isn’t sure he deserves it. He knows he can be an asshole, and his temper needs work, and he can be overly possessive which you hate. He often says the wrong thing, can snap at you when you don’t deserve it. He sometimes forgets important things like your anniversary or dinner with one of your parents, and you don’t like it when he blows you off to go golfing with the boys. But you love him, flaws and all, and you will always forgive him.

You knew love. Growing up, your parents had always told you they loved you and each other. with words, with actions, with gifts. Every morning you would witness the blissful domestic form of love, as your parents moved around the kitchen, movements a decades long choreography of your mother making coffee as your father made eggs. Stolen kisses and slight squeezes. A kiss atop your head and to your mother’s cheek before your father left for work and your mother was left to get you off to school. Dancing in the kitchen and family vacations and quiet Tuesdays. Father/daughter dances and dates and your mother pulling you out of school early one Friday a month to take you to get your nails done and a late lunch at your favorite restaurant. Consequently, you grew up very loved.

However you also knew love could hurt. As a teenager, you had watched as your parents’ love for each other couldn’t combat their issues with each other. As your mother sought love in a man ten years her junior and as your father blamed himself, that his love hadn’t been enough for her. You knew that despite love’s best intentions it could very quickly turn to resentment, hate and impatience. You had witnessed the death of love, seen love in its most desperate and despicable form.

Despite this you had fallen deeply and quickly in love with Rafe Cameron. From the moment you had met freshman year at some stupid social your roommate had dragged you to, you knew he was it for you. He was dressed like a douchebag, blue henley and backwards baseball cap with your university team written across it, a red solo cup full of jungle juice grasped in one hand, the other hand flicking through his phone. Ordinarily he was exactly the type of guy that you would avoid but there was something about the look in his eye, or maybe it was the small smirk that graced his lips when he caught you staring for a minute too long. Whatever it was, it possessed you to cross the makeshift dancefloor, place your hand in his and drag him to dance with you; all without even knowing his name yet. He’d let you guide him and hadn’t stopped following you like a lovesick puppy since.

At first it bothered you that he couldn’t say the words. You had an idea in your head of what the perfect progression of a relationship was, and when you had said the words first and he had been unable to reciprocate, you had stormed out of his apartment in a mix of embarrassment and sadness that your feelings were not shared. As he explained the next day, that wasn’t quite the truth, that he had never been comfortable with the words but that didn’t mean that he didn’t mean them too.

As your relationship progressed, you began to see the ways he told you he loved you without having to physically speak the words. Picking you up at the bar after a few too many without any judgement. Taking on your least favorite household chores so you wouldn’t have to. You realized that love was more than three words, eight letters. It was every action, every conscious choice where he picked you every time.

Your love wasn’t perfect. It was selfish and petty at times, it wasn’t always fair. But it was beautiful too, understanding and compassion and light. It was a combination of all you were and all that he was, and in all of its forms it was yours.

taglist babies (im so sorry if u dont care abt this anymore, i just copy pasted from my last fic lov u ) @velyssaraptor @danicarosaline @copper-boom @x-lulu @prejudic3 @rekrappeter @downbytheouterbanks @ilovejjmaybank @bricksatanakinswindow @jellyfishbeansontoast @rudyypankow @im-a-stranger-thing @alexa-playafricabytoto @hoodpankow @girlsru1eboysdroo1 @sortagaysortahigh @socialwriter @bloodyheavcn @anxietyandtacos @diverrdown @starkeyseguin @dmonchld@rafej-cambanks @stfukie @obxmermaid

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe obx #rafe x you #rafe x reader #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe imagine #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe cameron angst #diverdcwn writes #i was diverdcwn

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stellar-lune · 3 years

Text

*KOTLC incorrect quotes*

Anyways, a long list of incorrect KOTLC quotes, feel free to use these for anything if ya want!

Glimmer: Arson? Oh, you mean "crime brûlée".

Fitz: Oh, so when crows remember people who wronged them and hold grudges, its “intelligent” and “really cool”.

Fitz: But when I do it, I’m “petty” and “need to let it go”.

Keefe, holding up his class notes: And then this doodle of a burrito because when I first read Aristotle, I thought it was pronounced like “Chipotle”.

Marella, in shock: Wait a minute, is it “Chip-o-tottle”?

Sophie: I wasn't hurt that badly. Elwin said all my bleeding was internal, that's where the blood's supposed to be!

Police Officer: You have the right to remain silent.

Marella: I choose to waive that right!

Marella: *screaming*

Brant (whoops sorry bout this one): Do not come over to my house. If the house is on fire you may knock once, if I don’t answer assume I set the fire and I want to burn to death.

Sophie: I would never say that my best friend is a bitch and I don’t like her. That’s not true… Biana is a bitch and I like her very much!

Lex, Bex, Rex: If I can't cause tiny bits of chaos every day, I think my body will shut down.

Keefe on Tuesday: *glues a dime to the sidewalk* Heh heh heh.

Keefe on Wednesday: *walking down the street* Ooh hey! A dime!

Forkman, to the squad: And remember, if I get harsh with you it is only because you’re doing it all wrong.

Keefe, tearing up the room: Where are they?

Keefe, looking under a pillow: Who moved them? Who moved my children?

Keefe: Somebody moved my E.L. Fudges, and now I am going to run away again.

Tam: Your existence is confusing.

Keefe: How so?

Tam: Your presence is annoying, but the thought of anything bad happening to you upsets me.

Sophie: I have one foot in the grave but in a kind of fun flirty way, the way one might slip on a fishnet stocking.

Linh: I've never encountered a problem that can't be solved by an spontaneous musical number.

Dex: Dracula had it right, sleep all day, live alone in a castle, and explode into bats to get out of all social situations.

Sophie: Fuck capitalism. It's a rigged system that keeps us poor and it isn't fair. You shouldn't need to work three jobs to afford basic necessities.

Sophie, playing Monopoly: Sorry, if you wanted to win you should have tried not being poor.

Dex, to Stina: If karma doesn't hit you, I fucking will.

Sophie: My life isn't as glamourous as my wanted poster makes it look.

Dex: If I'm extra sarcastic with you it probably means I'm flirting with you or you really annoy me and I can't handle your crap... have fun figuring out which one, Wonderboy.

Marella: As someone who has a long history of not understanding anything, I feel confident in my ability to continue not knowing what is going on.

Fitz: I'm a firm believer in "if you're going to fail, you might as well fail spectacularly."

*out grocery shopping*

Linh: *takes a free sample twice*

Linh: Robbery and fraud. I am a Rebel (TM) .

Sophie: Sometimes I wonder if I’m hearing voices.

Sophie: Then I remember that’s the last bit of sanity I have trying to get me to fall asleep at a reasonable time.

Sophie: Does anyone know how to relax? Asking for a friend.

Demon: Hey, I took your soul last month and-

Tam: No returns.

Demon: *sobbing* But it's making me sad...

Dex: So, according to my university, it is, quote, “my responsibility if there is an internet outage to contact the faculty and the department.”

Dex: Now, if you’re a critical thinker like me, you might be wondering one thing.

Dex: HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO EMAIL THE DEPARTMENT?!?!?!

Tam: Hey, what’s the name of the other guy who lives with Tiergan?

Linh: His cats' names are Walter and Rose.

Tam: That's not what I asked.

Linh: That is all the information I have.

Keefe: Ro, remember when you said you weren’t going to interfere with my love life?

Ro: No, that doesn’t sound like me at all.

(alternatively, Alden)

Linh: Ayo, what the FUCK is this?!?

Tam, sitting down, surrounded by corpses: I won Mafia, that’s what.

Marella: I'd roast you, but my mom says you can't burn trash.

Marella: *slow-mo walks out of the room*

Biana: I'm gonna get my piolet's license. I've already got a driver's license and a cosmetology license, that's two of the big five licenses.

Fitz: The big five licenses?

Biana: Driver's license, cosmetology license, pilot's license, fishing license, and… license to kill! I can't wait to get that one.

Dex: You are irrationally angry 365 days a year.

Fitz: Well, that’s just your personal opinion, I don’t have anger issues. Biana, do you think I have anger issues?

Biana: Well, I wouldn’t really call it an issue. An issue is something you can fix.

Keefe: So how’s the food Sophie made?

Fitz: It's great! Compliments to her.

Keefe: *goes to the kitchen*

Keefe: You're adorable.

Sophie: *blushes*

Biana: And now for a gay update with Linh and Marella.

Marella: Getting gayer.

Biana: Thank you, Marella.

Sophie: Hey, do you know the password to Keefe’s computer?

Biana: I love you, Sophie.

Sophie: Aww, that’s so swe—

Biana: No, you misunderstood, the password is "iloveyouSophie".

Sophie: Oh, no numbers? Not very safe.

Fitz: Hey, Biana, are you free on Friday? Like around eight?

Biana: Yeah.

Fitz: And you, Tam?

Tam: Umm... yes?

Fitz: Great! Because I'm not. You two go out without me. Enjoy your date!

Biana: Did he just-

Sophie: Do you cook?

Biana: I made a cake once.

Fitz: Yeah, it was good.

Biana: Really?

Fitz: Don’t make me lie twice, Biana.

Dex: Nice rock.

Keefe: Thanks, Tam gave it to me.

Tam: I threw it at you!

Keefe: Isn’t he the sweetest?

Juline: I just had a long talk with the triplets about hitting and now they are yelling “it’s my turn to perpetuate the cycle of violence” before hitting each other.

Sophie: I made you all playlists!

Sophie: Tam, yours has only heavy metal and punk, and is dark like your soul.

Sophie: Keefe, yours has sad songs and blues to pair with your crippling depression.

Sophie: And Biana has the ABBA Gold album.

Fitz: A pessimist sees a dark tunnel.

Biana: An optimist sees light at the end of the tunnel.

Dex: A realist sees a freight train.

Tam: The train driver sees three idiots standing on train tracks.

Mr. Forkle: For self defense reasons, I'm going to pretend to be a burglar and you guys have to act wisely.

Biana, Keefe, & Sophie: Okay.

Mr. Forkle: If you don't want to die, give me all your money.

Biana: Bold of you to assume I have money.

Keefe: Bold of you to assume I don't want to die.

Sophie: Bold of you to assume I can die.

Sophie: My life is a little too much panic and not enough disco.

Keefe: My life is a little too much fall and not enough boy.

Dex: My life is a little too much chemical and not enough romance.

Marella: My life is a little too much imagination and not nearly enough dragons.

Biana: What’s it like being tall?

Marella: Is it nice?

Sophie: Can you reach comfortably for the cupboards?

Fitz: We live in constant fear of the short ones who, in my experience, will climb four chairs, two boxes, a small coffee table, and six oddly placed stools to get what they want.

Stina: You have friends and I envy that.

Marella: You're welcome to share my friends.

Stina: *looks at Dex and Sophie*

Stina: I don't want those.

Della: Tommorrow's garbage day.

Fitz: I can't believe you made a whole day dedicated to Alvar.

Linh: Bottling up negative emotions is bad for your health, so you shouldn't do it.

Tam: I know, that's why I bottle up all my emotions, both positive and negative, so it cancels out.

Linh: Th-that's not how that works-

Marella: Do you want to know your gay name?

Linh: My... my gay name?

Marella: Yeah, it's your first name-

Linh: Haha. Very funny Marella-

Marella: *gets down on one knee* And my last name.

Linh: Oh- oh my god.

Glimmer: You know you've made it when you see your picture everywhere you go.

The Black Swan: Those are wanted posters!

Biana: Are you mad?

Tam: No.

Biana: So sharpening your knives at 3 in the morning is just a hobby?

Keefe: Astrology is fun because i can pretend that all of my behaviors are just a result of being a Gemini and not symptoms of mental illness.

Biana: Being a Gemini is a mental illness. That’s not hate it’s just a fact.

Biana: *on the phone* Hey Fitz, do you know my blood type?

Fitz: Of course, it's A+.

Biana: Oh, I guessed wrong. Excuse me, nurse-!

Fitz, to Sophie: Are you ready to commit?

Sophie: Like, a crime or a relationship?

Literally Anyone: Hey, aren’t you Sophie Foster?

Sophie: You a Councillor?

Literally Anyone: No.

Sophie: Then yes, I am.

Sophie: I typed "bitch" into my GPS and guess what? I'm in your driveway.

Stina:

Sophie: Vroom vroom, come out already.

Stina: I’m gay—

Sophie: Not what I meant, but cool.

Keefe: Remember that time you dared me to lick a swingset?

Sophie: No, I said "Keefe, don't lick that swingset" and you said "Don't tell me what to do" and licked the swingset.

Mr. Forkle: I’m not so sure you’re stakeout material.

Sophie: I’m a chronic insomniac, I was born for this.

Juline: I only have two emotions: exhaustion and stress. And I’m somehow always feeling both simultaneously.

Marella: *gets set on fire and screams in agony*

Marella: Nah, I’m just kidding. Fire does nothing to me.

Biana: Maybe the true treasure was friendship all along. But I hope not, because I can’t spend friendship on new clothes

Dex: Do you want to play 20 Questions?

Fitz: Sure!

Fitz: Whats your favorite color?

Dex, laser fucking focused: Triangle. Do you like men?

#kotlc shitpost #kotlc incorrect quotes #kotlc memes #kotlc sophie #kotlc dex #kotlc fitz #kotlc marella #kotlc linh #kotlc biana #kotlc tam #kotlc glimmer #kotlc black swan #kotlc neverseen

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xpeachesncream · 3 years

Text

acquainted | eight

> series masterlist | series playlist <

summary: the biggest goal of a grad student is to get through school in one piece - no petty drama involved, no sweating over the little things. however, that plan almost always never follows through. sometimes, you can’t help but fall into the most unthinkable, unexpected traps and learn the hard way. like, exhibit a: being unable to resist your engaged, substitute teacher, kim seokjin.

pairing: jungkook x reader x engaged!teacher!seokjin

genre: grad school au, student life au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 3.6k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, jealousy and slight possessiveness, making out

tags: @laurynne5 @yiyi4657 @miinoongi @teamtardis-notdead @bluesharksandfish @photographic-girl @yonkoghan @moonchild1 @thebeebi (pls msg me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

"Should we go to that charity event the school is holding on Friday? It sounds kind of fun." Ryujin sipped on her drink, while you went through your closet, showing her different outfits over the facetime call.

"What's it for again?"

"I don't remember, but the Golden State Warriors dj is going to be dj'ing. He's pretty good."

"Yeah he is. I mean, I'm down, especially if it's for a good cause."

"Okay, I'll grab us tickets when I head to campus."

"You're not even gonna ask Jimin or Tae?" You chuckle.

"Why would I? They do everything we do, they don't know anything outside of us." You shake your head.

"Cut them a little slack."

"Boohoo, they'll say yes regardless. Bring Jungkook!"

"I mean, I'll ask, but I'm not gonna force him."

"Oh quit, I'm sure he'd be happy to spend time with you." She looked at you through the camera. "K, let me see that outfit."

"He said casual." You showed her your outfit in the full length mirror.

"Absolutely, yes! You're fucking hot." She squeals, automatically solidifying your outfit for tonight. It, thankfully, wasn't too cold in the Bay today, so you throw on a grey distressed denim mini skirt, a low-cut light grey longsleeve, a belt and some heeled combat boots. You ruffled and fixed your hair a bit until you were satisfied with your look, picking up the phone once more to turn your attention back to Ryujin.

"Thank you."

"No problem, babe. I hope you have fun! Did he say where you two were going?"

"Nope, it's apparently a surprise."

"Ugh, I love him already." She gushes, causing you to shake your head. You dabbed a bit of lip gloss and pressed your lips together to spread it out before spraying a perfume cloud for you to walk through. Sooner or later, knocks came at the door.

"Okay, I think that's him. I'll talk to you later?"

"Call me as soon as you get home. I want to know how big his dick actually is."

"You're sick. You sound exactly like Tae, you know that?"

"We're not talking about him."

"Love you, bye!" You abruptly hang up on her, unsure of why the hell you deal with her and Taehyung's crude comments. You grab your bag and open the door to see Jungkook standing there with a small bouquet of flowers. He peeks his head over the bouquet with the cutest smile you have ever seen.

"Hi." He slightly scrunches his nose and pulls you into a hug. Goddamn, does he smell good. "These are for you." He hands you the bouquet.

"Jungkook, they're beautiful. Thank you." You take it into your kitchen and place it into a vase really quickly before stepping out. You eye him from head to toe, and boy is looking like a whole ass meal in the denim outfit he has on. Like, who in the world could pull off this outfit like that?

"You look amazing." You blush. "If you ever get cold, just let me know, alright? I can spare my jacket."

"You're so sweet."

"Just want to make sure you're comfortable." He shrugs. "You ready?"

"Depends on what you have up your sleeve."

"Nothing extreme, if that's what you're thinking." He laughed. "I hope you enjoy it, though."

"Thanks for planning all of this, by the way."

"No biggie. I'm just glad to finally spend some time with you." He does a little run to open the passenger car door for you before hopping into the driver's seat. Immediately, he gets the car started and turns up the heat to make sure you're comfortable. The radio is softly playing Zayn's sHe, with Jungkook softly singing along.

"Wait a minute," You chuckle. "Do you sing?" He smirked.

"Maybe."

"Hey, that's not fair. Sing louder."

"No, now I'm shy." He chuckled.

"Why? It's just me."

"Yeah and I just wanna impress you and not make a fool out of myself."

"You won't! Please." You pouted, making him shake his head.

"Ugh, Y/N. That's going to easily become a weakness for me if you keep pulling that pout." You keep pouting. Eventually, he gets over himself and starts to sing a little louder than earlier, causing your heart to flutter at how angelic he sounds. He ends up laughing towards the end and shrugging it off, his cheeks tinted with a rosy tint as you shower him in compliments. Swoon. You were so into the moment that you didn't even realize Jungkook was taking you across the bridge to San Francisco. You and your friends don't come to the city much, strictly because there's too many goddamn hills, parking is expensive as fuck, there's too many one way streets and people just get crazy as hell [like crossing the street when it's not time to walk?!]. It was a little calmer back home and that's all you guys needed. You watch as he parks the car effortlessly on a steep hill before coming over to your side to open the door for you.

"Whew, that's gonna be a workout later." You look back at the steep hill that you're gonna have to climb after eating dinner, you assume.

"Don't worry, I got you." He laughs. There's actually a lot of people out for a Tuesday evening that you end up hanging onto his arm to get navigate the random sea of people. He walks into Brenda's French Soul Food - nothing too fancy, but nothing too casual. The waitress brings you both towards the back end of the restaurant and out into the patio, where there are christmas lights hung around the fence and outdoor heaters posted. He pulls out your chair before sitting himself down, the waitress putting down your menus and cups of water.

"Ohhhhh, my god." You say with heart eyes looking at the menu. You had heard about this place from so many people, and you were impressed that Jungkook was able to score reservations being that it's always so busy due to its popularity. "I'm so excited! I've been wanting to try this place."

"Goodjob, Jungkook." He says, patting himself on the back. "If you're happy, that's all I could ask for." The waitress comes back to offer recommendations, which you both include in your orders in one way or another. Although packed, the restaurant was able to pump out orders quickly and efficiently so you and Jungkook weren't sitting around for too long without food.

"So, how's Jin in class?" You almost choke on your food even though this is something you should have expected. You really wanted to avoid speaking about him tonight, but you knew it was inevitable being that you were out with his brother.

"Um, he's alright."

"Just alright?" He rose his eyebrow and chuckled.

"No, sorry. I mean, he's a really good teacher. Definitely better than our last professor. Everyone in class loves him."

"That's cool. Yeah, he's really smart and wise. I've always looked up to him."

"How long has it been?" You weren't sure how to ask the question, but Jungkook understood what you were asking.

"I was a sophomore in high school when my mom met his dad." You're silent for a moment, allowing him to continue on if needed. "I had a really hard time at first, you know? The whole stepfather thing. My anger was moreso directed towards my mom and my stepdad for awhile. But Jin helped me out a lot. He helped me come to terms with my feelings about everything and he stuck by my side, always had my back whenever I got into arguments or bickered with one of our parents." You nodded, suddenly feeling guilty even though you and Jungkook weren't a couple.

"So, you two are really close." He nodded.

"Yeah, we are. I really don't know what I'd do without him. He's taught me a lot and helped me grow. Plus, Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi have been around too. They treat me like their own little brother.”

"That's sweet. It's nice to have that kind of relationship with your sibling and their friends." You chuckle.

"It is." He nods. "Do you have any siblings?"

"Ryujin, Taehyung and Jimin." He laughs.

"From the club, right? I met your friends, they're fun people."

"They're too much, honestly. I'm the only child, but we've all been stuck to the hip since freshman year in college."

"That's cool that you guys have been together since then." You give him a toothless smile. "I think it's pretty awesome that you guys are tackling grad school together too."

"Initially, we all had different plans, but Jimin had some big goals for himself including grad school, and it played a huge role in my decision to do grad school, too. Then Ryujin followed, then Taehyung."

"Cute."

"Speaking of friends, there's this charity event at school on Friday." You look up at him, a small smirk growing on his face.

"Uh huh?"

"And I was wondering if you wanted to come along with us. They really want you there."

"That's sweet. But, what matters the most is that you want me there."

"I wouldn't be inviting you if I didn't, right?" You bit your bottom lip.

"Touché. Of course I'll go with you, beautiful." He does a small nod before sipping his water. "Should we show up in matching outfits?" He joked, causing you to snort.

"Honestly, that seems pretty entertaining. Cute, and entertaining."

"I'm down if you are." You stuck your tongue out playfully.

"I'm game too."

"Let me know what you're wearing then."

"I will, whenever I figure that out."

"Take your time. Just know you'll look good in anything." You blushed. You both continue to talk over the remaining bits of your food before Jungkook calls for the check. You watch as he scribbles his signature onto the receipt before standing and sticking his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans. While exiting the small and crowded restaurant, you hold onto his hand, feeling him grip it tighter as you both successfully make it out. The night isn't too cold, and you sure as hell knew it wouldn't be after you conquered the hill that Jungkook parked on.

"Fuck." You say as you stand on the street, eyeing the steep hill in front of you.

"Come on." He says, slightly bending down for you to hop onto his back.

"Ouu, I don't know if that's a good idea--"

"Y/N, I promise it's okay. Come on." He laughed. Hey, if he was willing to do this, then why not? You hop onto his back, his arms wrapping your legs tightly around his waist, while you clung onto his neck. "See, not so bad, right?" He says, sprinting up the hill, making you laugh and hold onto him tighter.

"Shit, I am so sorry. That was probably a workout. Right after we ate, too."

"Nah. It wasn't anything." He scrunched his nose. On the way back over the bridge, Jungkook is heading towards Lake Merritt. You both are singing along to songs and joking around about topics that pop up here and there. When he parks his car, you notice a whole crowd of people gathered by the lake, which was a little unusual for this time of night. He grabs your hand and gently caresses the top with his thumb as he walks you over towards the crowd. To your surprise, you realize people are gathered here for a water lantern festival. Your eyes light up, making Jungkook smile at how excited you look.

"Jungkook, what the hell! How did you know about this and I didn't?" He shrugs.

"I have my ways." He says, his voice low and deep. You playfully shove him before you make your way over to grab lanterns to decorate. You and Jungkook sit off in a more quiet, calmer part of the lake, silently decorating your lanterns and writing your wishes along with it. What exactly did you want to wish for?

Happy friends, happy family. Happy you.

Whatever happiness meant to you.

To have Chance look over you.

Jungkook is done pretty quickly, but he waits for you to finish, not questioning what you've written since he figures it's a private matter. He shows you his lantern and his cute little stick figure drawing of his family and friends. You giggle, watching him gently lay his lantern in the water, giving you leverage to do the same with yours. You stand closely to him, his body providing you some warmth as you watch your lanterns float off into the lake and illuminate the night along with the others.

"Ready? We have one more thing to catch." He snakes his arm around your waist and gives your side a gentle squeeze. You simply nod, following him back to his car. He takes you about 30 minutes away, exiting and pulling right into a lot two street lights down from the exit. He pulls up to the ticket booth, buying 2 tickets for Tenet at the drive-in movie. You squeal and clap in your seat excitedly, also not knowing this was still around.

"Did you really do your research to plan this date?"

"Yes and no? I've been here before, and I thought it would be fun to take you. The restaurant and the lantern festival though, yes." He parks his car as instructed, turning the radio to the correct channel in order to hear the audio. "Wanna hop in the back so we have more room?" You nod, getting out of your seat just to hop into the back. He leans over into his trunk, grabbing water bottles and assorted gummy candies for you to snack on in case you wanted some. "I hope you're having fun so far."

"I am." You respond softly.

"Okay, beautiful. If you say so." He chuckles. He moves the driver and passenger seats forward so that you both have room to spread your legs a bit. At first, Jungkook made sure to give you enough space so he wouldn't make you uncomfortable, but over time, you felt yourself sinking closer and closer to his body until he had his arm draped around your shoulder, while part of your body rested on his. His hand gently caressed your arm, occasionally sending goosebumps through your body at how soft his touch his. You glanced over, admiring at how focused he was on the movie. He must have felt you looking at him because he quickly looks over and blushes as he nibbles on a gummy worm. "What?"

"Nothing, it's just cute how focused you are."

"Damn, are you not into it?"

"I am, but it's kind of hard to follow sometimes."

"Yeah, it's definitely one of those movies." This time, his gaze on you is a little longer than before. You don't know what takes over you, but you plant a kiss on him, making him smile into the kiss. He doesn't say anything, but proceeds to rest his free hand on your neck, pulling you close and into another deep kiss. Your hand grips onto the side of his shirt, your tongues slowly fighting for dominance. The sounds of wet kisses fills the car and tunes out the movie audio. You can feel the moment intensifying, both you and Jungkook letting out breathy moans in between kisses. Suddenly, the thought of Seokjin quickly flashes in your mind, the past nights you've spent with him and the nasty shit you both have done to each other.

You lightly gasp as you pull away, but it wasn't obvious to Jungkook that something had disturbed your peace.

"Sorry, I—" He tries to save face just in case he was in the wrong about something.

"No, I just— I wasn't expecting it to get that intense." You lied. You knew damn well.

"It's okay." He chuckled. "I would never rush you into anything, Y/N. Okay? We can take this slow." He gives you a genuine, warm, reassuring smile that causes you to swoon. Why the fuck was he so good? Just why? How was this even fair right now?

All you do is simply smile and lean back onto him. He's back to caressing your arm and shoulder, giving you small pecks on the top of your head every now and then to reassure you. Part of you wondered if this is what Seokjin had taught him over the years - how to properly love a woman and be a gentleman. But then, that quickly fades when you remember the situation you're in with him.

Well no, you're not in anything with him. You needed to stop doing this to yourself.

When the movie ends, you both climb back into the front seats to make your way back home. You feel the exhaustion hit you, all the fun and adrenaline you felt today slowly come crashing down. Jungkook parks in the passenger loading zone, throwing on his hazard lights before walking you up to your apartment.

"Jungkook, thank you for tonight. I really enjoyed it and had a ton of fun with you."

"I'm glad." He cups your face and gently places a kiss on your forehead. You weren't satisfied with it though, so you tippy toe as you hold onto his hand and kiss him on the lips. He leans into the kiss, deepening it for a quick second before pulling away. "Let me know the details about Friday, okay?"

"Okay."

"I'll call you tomorrow. Sleep tight, beautiful." He smiles and licks his lips as he watches you walk in, feeling utterly content with how the day went. You feel the same way, smiling to yourself as you throw your bag onto the floor and prance into the bathroom to get ready for bed. You felt the butterflies in your stomach every time you thought about Jungkook and his smile, or his soft lips against yours.

Butterflies that kept your mind off of—

[jin] 10:04pm: Are you still with Jungkook?

You roll your eyes at the text. You hadn't pulled out your phone all night, so you're also seeing the numerous messages from your friends in the group chat, too.

[jimin] 7:45pm: have fun tonight, Y/N!

[taehyung] 7:50pm: ^ ditto. use protection, young lady

[taehyung] 7:50pm: think about mr. kim's feelings

[ryujin] 7:56pm: taehyung kim, shut the hell up. do you have anything better to do?

[jimin] 8:01pm: i really hope she doesn't pull out her phone during the date -__-

[taehyung] 8:05pm: lmfao you guys, chill out

[taehyung] 8:06pm: i'm sorry y/n, im just kidding. have fun tonight and be safe, love you

[ryujin] 8:10pm: CALL ME WHEN YOU GET HOME Y/N! i wanna know deets, remember! and ask him if he wants to join us on friday!

Unbelievable. Your friends were unbelievable, and that was an understatement. You don't respond to the group because you figured you'd call Ryujin in a bit and update the boys over the week. But to Jin's text - fuck.

You were literally just tucking him away in the far, far, far dark, deep depths of your mind.

[y/n] 11:38pm: I was, but now I'm home.

[jin] 11:39pm: Yeah, he just texted me back. Sorry.

[y/n] 11:40pm: It's okay.

[jin] 11:43pm: Okay. Have a good night.

He hates this. Why the hell would you do this to him? Grace is upstairs sleeping while Jin is trying to clean the kitchen up like he promised. Suddenly, his phone goes off, signaling a call coming in.

Jungkook.

"Hello?"

"Oh shit, yes! You're awake!" Jin chuckles a bit.

"How was the date?" Not only was he asking out of curiosity, but wanted to know how you were doing during the night. Completely none of his business but he couldn't help himself.

"God, she's fucking amazing. A-and-and beautiful." He yells into the phone excitedly. "She's so exciting. I can't wait to take her out again. I just wanna keep spending time with her." Jin is pretty unamused on the other line. Thank God he isn't on Facetime so he didn't have to fake this facial expressions hearing about Jungkook's feelings for you. "S-she- I mean, we kissed."

"Oh?" Jin asks, tongue pressed against his cheek. What the fuck.

"Yeah, we were making out during the movie. It got pretty intense, but it didn't get any further than that. I didn't wanna rush her into anything."

"You think it could have escalated?"

"Yeah honestly, but I wanna do right by her, you know?" Jin can tell how serious Jungkook was starting to become about pursuing you, and he had never felt more competitive until this day. He just wanted you to himself, and he wanted to be the one to kiss you and make you feel things you've only dreamed about.

Not his brother.

He, too, wanted you just as bad. If anything, more.

"It sounds like it was a pretty successful first date." Jungkook is beaming through the phone, he didn't have to see his face to know that.

"It was. It was such a good night." Jungkook chuckles. "By the way, I'm going to that charity event on campus on Friday. Are you and Grace going?"

"Probably not."

"Well, if you both are free, you should swing by. It'll be nice to see Grace."

"Yeah, I'll ask and see what's up." Jin sighs. "I should probably get to bed, I'm pretty tired. I'm happy to hear the date went well, kid."

"Thanks, dude. I'll talk to you later, get some rest."

"You too." Jin hangs up the call, silently hitting his fist against the kitchen counter as he lets out a deep sigh. More than ever, he wanted to keep you wrapped around his finger. He wanted to keep you there, no matter how selfish that sounded. There was no way he was going to let you unravel.

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passivenovember · 3 years

Text

Walking Home (v)., the Tourniquet

For you @thursday-knight. Lysm

They’re going to let Billy out of that horrible, gray padded room on Tuesday, which Steve snorts at over the phone.

“What, you think that’s fuckin’ funny or something?”

“No, It’s just.” It’s kind of funny. Steve wraps the phone chord around his hand. Nice and tight, like a tourniquet. “Tuesday’s weird.”

“Tuesday’s...weird?”

“Yeah.”

Steve can hear something, like. The clack of a pen. It’s a common nervous tick, a way to cope, but. Steve’s never seen any one hold a bic the way Billy does.

Barrel in his palm. Clicking the register with his pointer finger, like. He’s pressing Reagan’s Big Red Button. The one to blow up the world.

“What’s so weird about a Tuesday release, man?”

“Ruining the start of a week by spending it in the hospital and then having to use the rest of it adjusting to life outside?” Steve shrugs, remembering that Billy can’t see him. “They could at least give you a Friday. Then you’d have the weekend, right?”

Billy’s grin is somehow manifested in the honey drip of his voice. “Been locked up for six months, Harrington, what’s two more days?”

And that could be true.

Steve doesn’t feel like so much time has passed. The rise and fall of the moon, the turn of the seasons, the way Billy has to wear fuzzy socks with those little grips on them to stay warm in beige corridors, have been lost on Steve.

Tainted. Wrapped in paper the exact shade of survival. Surgeries and afternoons carpooling the kids to Hawkins general, paying Barry Mildred to do Billy’s algebra homework for him, and.

Convincing everyone.

Himself, too.

That Billy would be alright. Steve had to do everything he could to get Billy ready for the world, or.

The world ready for him.

“Has it really been that long?” Steve wonders.

And Billy laughs. “Maybe not for you, King Steve. Some of us had to spend the whole of it in one room.” It doesn’t sound as painful as it usually does.

Steve just nods again. To himself.

He remembers the leaves changing around the time Billy learned to walk again. Halloween. Bringing left-over contraband to spoil Billy’s strict diet of organic bullshit while his body healed itself. Amber leaves complimenting blue eyes as they made unsteady laps around the courtyard together.

Steve holding his arm out time and time again, and. Billy taking it.

Christmas. Snowball fights with the kids, crystals on long blonde eyelashes while that stubborn mouth fought to return every smile Max threw his way. Those very same lashes, wet with tears, when Billy opened a vintage copy of Cider House Rules, on Christmas Eve.

All, you really shouldn’t be spending the holiday in a psych ward, Harrington.

But they held hands for the first time that night. Steve said, where else would I want to be?

And Billy, just. Took what he could get--nothing more.

Steve remembers a lot of things. Happiness. Rocky, at first, unearned, a slide into friendship which turned into peachy cheeks that rivaled the setting sun.

Summer, Fall, Winter, and.

February.

Steve must have missed it. All of it, while he was busy being grateful that Billy was alive.

He checks the calendar.

“You’ll be out in time for Valentines,” He says. Because that’s important, somehow. “Got any big plans?”

“Oh, for sure.” Billy clicks his pen. One-two-three. “Got a girl waiting for me on the outside, thought we could catch a movie.”

Steve knows.

He knows it isn’t true, that Billy’s just yanking his ridiculously short chain, but. Steve’s heart beats in time with the click of a pen. Advancing and overtaking the tempo to orchestrate a symphony of worry.

Of fear.

It used to taste like copper. Black slime and dirty snow, but now it tastes like mashed potatoes served on a hospital lunch tray. Contraband sweets. Change and forced endings and--

Steve chokes on something. A laugh that falls wrong halfway through, like a sob colored to fit summer days. “What are you doing after?”

The clacking stops. “Just fucking with you, Harrington.”

“I know.”

“Was a joke, I’m not.” Billy clears his throat. “Everyone who matters came to see me while I was here.”

Steve just nods. Frantically, because he hears words that aren’t there. Meaning that couldn’t possibly color his life in broad strokes. He thinks about what Billy’s saying, what he really means.

Everyone who matters.

“Where are you staying? Like, when you get out,.” Steve mutters. The chord is wrapped around his hand again. He leans against the wall, wincing as the pins from his bulletin board pinch his shoulder blades. “You got a place to crash?”

Billy doesn’t say anything.

Steve clears his throat. “You aren’t going back, right? You’re not going. Home?”

“To Neil’s?”

And Steve gets the distinction. Feels it settle like an axe between his first three ribs. “Yeah.”

Billy sighs. “No, fuck that. Figured I’d ask around. See if there are any beds open at RCA.” Recovery Centers of America, that’s.

“That’s in Indianapolis.”

“Yeah,” Billy says flatly. Steve thinks, distantly, that he sounds almost. Annoyed. “Owens says there’s a car. It’ll take me wherever I want, long as I stay in State.”

“You want to go away?”

“Sure,” Billy says bluntly. “Wouldn’t hurt to leave this place behind, you know. Maybe go somewhere new--”

“Stay with me.”

Steve’s heart is beating in his eyeballs.

The world falls silent. Only for a moment, for as long as it takes for Billy to drop something on the ground and then swear under his breath. His voice shakes, like strands in the wind. “What?”

“At my apartment,” Steve clarifies. He untangles the phone chord which has somehow worked its way to his elbow. “It’s small and shitty, and the couch only has three legs, but.”

Steve closes his eyes and hopes against hope, praying to every god who has ever existed since the beginning of time and everyone who will come after, that Billy can hear every meaning, every hidden word.

“You could.” Steve says softly. “If you wanted to.”

The clacking starts up again, slow and measured. Steve can hear Billy’s breath. The ragged intake of air that sounds painful, like a boy clinging to life in smoke filled memories. Holding on to his hand, saying, I don’t want to die, Steve, please.

It plants Steve’s feet in an ambulance. It tips the string of a tourniquet, bloody and wet with slime in his hands. It makes him remember.

Pull it tighter, kid, come on.

And.

He’s losing a lot of blood.

And.

Steve, we’re losing him.

And.

Kid, step away from the body.

Billy clears his throat. “You mean it?” He asks, and.

Steve lets go of a breath. “Of course I do.”

“You’ll get tired of me.” Billy’s voice, it sounds like shattering windows. Steve doesn’t say anything. Can’t respond, because. Nothing in life is more impossible.

The world falls silent.

Only for a moment, as long as it takes for Steve to close his eyes. “I can’t watch you get in that car and walk away, Billy.”

It’s nothing. Only a part of how he feels. Only a drop of what he wants, but. It sets things in motion again.

Billy clears his throat. “Alright,” He says. “Give me the address.”

Steve wants it to be something other than what it is.

He buys new sheets. Fern green satin, five-hundred thread count and worth a third of what he has in savings.

They aren’t what he’d usually go for, color or texture, but. The lady at the department store says muted colors are good for preventing overstimulation after trauma and satin is gentle on the skin. Warm, too, which is always a good thing.

Billy says it feels like winter, now. All, I’m a goddamn human snow globe.

Buying sheets on Valentines, it.

Makes Steve hope that this is something else.

That Billy will insist on putting his new sheets on Steve’s bed instead of the couch in the living room. That they’ll sleep together here, just how they always did in Billy’s hospital bed.

Chest to chest.

Billy’s head tucked under Steve’s chin, but.

Mostly Steve being eaten alive by the guilt.

For feeling like this is the start of their lives. That everything before now--living with his parents, fighting monsters, feeling useless in every sense of the word...

All of it was a dream.

Preparation for the day he would open the front door and find Billy there, waiting.

Steve takes the sheets back to his apartment. He makes up the living room, rearranging the furniture so Billy can have his own space. The couch as a bed and the coffee table as a book shelf.

Billy has a lot of books.

More than anyone Steve’s ever met, more than Robin and Nancy Wheeler combined and Steve doesn’t own any books himself, or. A place to put them. His apartment is the size of a shoebox.

He’ll get rid of the stuff he doesn’t use anymore.

He’ll make room.

In his apartment, in his miniscule life, so that Billy has something of his own.

And maybe after they’re settled in and the bills are paid for the month, Steve will pick up extra shifts at the video store until he can afford buy one.

A nice, big oak bookshelf for Billy to house his favorites.

He locks himself in the bathroom an hour after moving in.

Which, you know. Throws the evening for a loop.

He seems happy when Steve opens the front door, dropping his box of books by the shoe rack and toeing his boots off with a grin.

His body is loose, and. Open, Like he’s comfortable. Billy pokes around the apartment, making fun of the weird shit hanging up on the walls while Steve cooks dinner.

“You gotta get some real art in here, man.” Billy says. It sounds like he’s by the record player, digging through the stack of vinyl's Steve keeps in a shoe box by the T.V. “And some real music, holy shit. How have you been living like this?”

“I’ve been living just fine, fuck you very much.”

“You have three copies of Waterloo,” Billy snorts. As if that proves something.

He’s crouched by the mosaic of finger paintings left by Holly Wheeler, studying a particularly abstract piece when Steve hands him a glass of sparkling cider.

“Everyone’s gotta have their backup copies of Waterloo, you know, extra in case you gotta dole them out to strangers.” Steve clinks their glasses together. “Cheers.”

Billy swishes the drink around with a lift of his eyebrow. “You trying to get in my pants, Harrington?”

“It’s not alcohol.”

“Why is it bubbly?” Billy accuses, lifting the glass to sniff at it suspiciously. His nose wrinkles, like a bunny rabbit.

Steve laughs. “It’s sparkling cider. Cherry flavored.”

“Cherry?” Billy snorts, his cheeks glowing pink like little love hearts. “That’s definitely a sex flavor.”

“It’s a celebration flavor, you dick.” Steve chuckles again. He files through the records he does have, selecting one he thinks Billy can tolerate. “What do you think of Rumours?”

Billy’s wandered to the kitchen. “Hate the activity, dig the album.” He calls.

The sound of cabinets opening and slamming shut echo through the space while Steve figures out the settings for this vinyl, fiddling with the tiny knobs until Songbird filters through at a pace that seems right.

“Ice is in the freezer,” Steve announces, and.

Billy rounds the corner with a bag of chips, happy little smirk on his face. Steve frowns.

“I’m fixing dinner--”

“I haven’t had Doritos in almost a year, Harrington.” Billy says roughly. He rips open the bag, collapsing next to Steve on the floor by the music stand. Billy takes one and licks the cheese dust off the chip, holding the bag out, like. “Want one?”

Steve face hurts from smiling so much. “Nah, I’m good.”

Billy leans back against the wall, rolling his eyes. “What, don’t eat carbs after four p.m. or something?”

And Steve filters through a million answers, all of which make it sound like he’s trying to get laid, so. He settles in next to Billy, letting his eyes fall closed with the sway of the music.

“No, just. Don’t wanna ruin my dinner.”

Billy snorts, bag crinkling loudly as he dives in for another handful. “I could eat twelve bags of this shit and still go ape on whatever rich boy thing you whipped up.” Billy asses him, head cocked to the side. “Bet the cheese makes you fart.” He concludes.

Steve blinks at him. “You’re disgusting--”

“Processed cheese makes everyone shit their pants, man, that’s like.” Billy wipes his hands on Steve’s leg. “Common knowledge.”

Steve makes a noise like a runover chicken, wiping frantically at the trousers he bought at the Goodwill, just for tonight.

He wets his fingers with spit, wincing and scrubbing at the bright line of orange nacho cheese that stains his corduroy flares.

The shape of Billy’s fingers is unmistakable. “I’m starting to regret asking you to move in.”

“Thought I was just crashing here until--”

“Now that you’re here I’m no letting you leave,” Steve smiles at him, the weight of it softening when Billy’s cheeks glow pink again. He knocks their shoulders together. “You’re stuck with me.”

Billy falls silent after that.

Shoveling in handful after handful of Doritos and crunching so loudly that Steve can’t get wrapped up in the bass line on the Chain.

“Dude, you gotta chew so loud?” Steve asks, shoving Billy’s hand away when he reaches to smear nacho dust down the length of Steve’s neck. “My god, you’re a menace.”

“You love it,” Billy giggles, and.

They stare at each other for a moment. Sort of watching the brush of eyelashes against cheekbones while the music plays.

A backdrop to the start of something Steve doesn’t have a name for.

Night falls and Billy doesn’t come out of the bathroom.

The food has been stored, the dishes put away, but the light which escapes like neon strips of gold to kiss the mouth of the hall carpet never flicks off. Never giving way to rest.

Steve thinks about waiting for him.

He thinks about going to bed, jiggling the handle to make sure Billy’s okay, breaking the door down when two hours turns to three but that seems intrusive.

If Billy wanted company he would ask. And if he wanted to come out he would, right?

Steve feels like an idiot.

Pacing back and forth between the living room and the hallway, trying not to make it obvious that he’s right in the thick of gut-wrenching worry. Violent, intrusive images of brain splattered tile fill his mind.

Billy could be hurt, or. Asleep in the bathtub. Maybe he slipped out the bathroom window while Steve was turning down the couch for him, making the space comfortable.

Maybe he was never here to begin with. Maybe Steve dreamt him up.

Steve paces back and forth, back and forth, wrestling with the urge to call Dr. Owens and ask what he should do, until the clock above the stove reads 11:34 pm and he has no choice but to call it a night.

His knuckles sound like a machine gun when he taps on the door.

From behind the oak barrier, Billy makes a noise like he was startled out of sleep. Steve can hear him moving around, when he asks, “You okay? Been in there for a few hours.”

Billy opens the door.

His eyes are red and puffy, cheeks a little flushed, like.

“Have you been crying?” Steve doesn’t want him to cry. Tears and hallow feelings, they have no place in the stretch of nightfall that Steve has built for them.

He feels himself reaching for Billy on impulse, trying to pull their bodies together, but Billy steps back.

Away.

To make room for Steve in the bathroom or to make a run for it, Steve isn’t sure. He knots his fingers together for safe keeping.

“Of course not, don’t be fucking.” Billy’s voice cracks right down the middle, like. A loaf of bread that has been in the oven for far too long. His eyes are glassy when he looks up, and.

Distant.

Steve feels like an asshole. He leans against the door jam. “I can call Dr. Owens, if you want.”

Billy stares at him. “Why would I want that?”

“You just seem--”

“I seem like what, Steve?” Billy spits. “You gonna psychoanalyze me too, huh?”

Steve grits his teeth against the urge to. Fight back. “It’s just when I started getting the couch ready, you seemed.” Steve runs a hand through his hair, choosing his next words carefully. “Nervous? Afraid, maybe, just a little. Which is alright. It can be scary sleeping alone in a new place, and--”

“I’m not five years old, Harrington, I can handle a sleepover at my friends house.” Billy snarls. He pushes against Steve’s chest until there are rivers between them. Mountains and oceans.

It’s the first time since Starcourt that Billy seems.

Like himself.

The old self, the one that used his fists to keep wandering eyes from getting too close. Figuring him out. If Steve were a younger man he’d fall for it, hook and line, but.

He knows better.

Six months and a lifetime with Billy Hargrove have taught him a thing or two. He nods, stepping back down the hallway.

Billy’s eyes track him. Wide and nervous and so, so blue.

“‘M going to sleep, dude.” Steve waves a thumb over his shoulder, taking a deep, needed breath. He calls over his shoulder to give Billy some space. “Come to bed when you’re ready. I’ll leave the light on.”

Billy’s footsteps don’t pass his bedroom door until Steve is settled under the covers.

He’s starting to think Billy won’t show.

The t.v. is on in the living room, tinny sounds of Yogi Bear filtering through the wall and Steve wonders if he made a mistake in assuming, that.

Look.

Just because they slept together, like, actually slept together while Billy was in the hospital doesn’t mean anything.

Maybe Billy is just scraping the bottom of his energy reserves. Maybe he’s getting to the end of the rope when it comes to his friendship with Steve, and didn’t want to move in but had to.

For lack of better options, and like.

Income and shit--

“Scoot over.” Billy says.

Steve jumps, poking his head out from under the covers to glare wildly at him. “When did you--”

“Move over.” Billy insists, eyes burning like flame in the darkness.

Steve does, all, “Jesus Christ, you’re just a little ray of sunshine, aren’t ya?” But there are butterflies in his tummy. Gently flapping wings that turn into stinging wasps when Billy manhandles his way into the bed, yanking one of the extra pillows out from under Steve’s legs to punch into shape on his side of the bed.

Steve squawks. “I was using that.”

“It was under your knee caps, dork.” Billy mutters, bullying his way into Steve’s space like he did so many times on warm summer nights at Hawkins General, stiff as a board on his government issued mattress.

Steve’s bed isn’t anything like that, it’s like. A marshmallow. Swallowing the two of them whole when Billy presses his face into the length of Steve’s neck, legs coming up to pin him in place.

“I got weak ankles.” Steve pouts.

Billy doesn’t say anything as he goes limp and heavy on top of his human pillow. Steve instantly feels like he’s over heating; the guy’s a fucking furnace, but.

Billy’s eyelashes are tickling his collar bones.

His breath fans out over Steve’s skin, like cool breezes on summer nights, and. When he starts crying Steve is there.

Like always, Steve sings him to sleep.

#harringrove #valentines day #billy Hargrove #Steve Harrington #please enjoy my trash

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theartistichuman · 3 years

Text

Tma 200 spoilers

I might post this to my ao3. This is a rough draft so please ignore the subpar writing.

Summary-

Melanie and Georgie heal.

They never did find the bodies in the end. That’s not for lack of trying; they scoured every inch of what used to be The Magnus Institute. They found a plethora of tapes, and some preserved Leitners (Georgie insisted on throwing them out, despite Melanie insisting that they were safe, and even if they weren’t they couldn’t hurt her anyways) but not a single body. Not even of the previous archivists.

Neither of them knew exactly what that meant. Georgie stayed stubbornly optimistic, but Melanie knew better. Georgie may have had her encounters, but Melanie almost was an encounter. She knew what it felt like to be afraid of what you’re becoming, but to want to hurt people anyways. She knew what it felt like to want to burn the world around you, and just keep walking. Melanie wanted to believe what Georgie did- that those two were dead and at rest- but she didn’t have the hope to keep it up. Not like Georgie did.

It takes time to make a new normal. Most days it felt like the world was holding its breath; waiting for the moment that their rest would be interrupted and they would be dragged back into their fear. Georgie started going to therapy, and seemed all the better for it. Melanie saw a psychiatrist every month or so for a check up, but after spending so long with Laverne worshipping her, she knew she needed a bit more time. It wasn’t good to put it off, but Georgie (and, by proxy, Georgie’s therapist) insist she take her time.

Georgie starts her podcast up after Melanie scolds her for getting stir crazy (employment was still fickle). She changed the theme, citing t that people probably wouldn’t want to speculate about the supernatural after they lived it. Instead she starts inviting people to send in her stories.

“Community counseling”Georgie told her over their celebratory dinner (dinosaur chicken nuggets and boxed wine) “people might feel better if they get their stories out there.”

Melanie highly doubted that, but she was the first guest on the newly rebranded ‘What the Apocalypse’ anyways. (It did make her feel better, but she suspects Georgie knows without her admitting it.)

The Admiral is different from how he was before. He didn’t pounce on things and his separation anxiety got so bad the vet put him on meds. The Admiral didn’t seem to like the dark much either, but according to Georgie that might not be because of the end of the world.

Every morning they take their meds together at breakfast. Melanie (with the assistance of her Scanmarker Air, that she refers to as her “sketchmarker air” to Georgie’s dismay) gets The Admiral his tuna, as Georgie makes them cereal.

Every evening they sit together and listen to their favorite books. Georgie will order them Hungarian on Fridays, and Melanie buys a cat carrier for The Admiral for Tuesday walks. It feels like family, and Melanie loves it so much it hurts.

Basira wanders in an out of their lives. Melanie isn’t sure what she’s up to, but she seems lost. Before she always seemed headstrong and powerful: like she knew where she was going and why. But now, without the pressure of the world on her shoulders, Basira seemed... timid almost.

Whenever Basira came over Georgie and Melanie would bring out their board games. They would drink an obscene amount of apple juice, and laugh until the sun came up. Basira never stayed past that, and they never asked her to.

One day Georgie interrupts their newfound evening “Melanie, we should talk.”

“About.....?” Melanie tries to point her face at where she approximates Georgie’s is. Georgie gently touches Melanie’s chin and guides her face up.

“Up here babe,” she says, fondly, “but I’ve told you that you don’t need to do that.”

Melanie knows she doesn’t need to do it, but the hand on her skin makes it worth it.

“I know.” She says back. “But I’m being polite.”

Georgie snorts. “Polite? You? You made Martin cry in your first week of work.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Melanie takes the hand on chin, and rubs her thumb across the knuckles. She ignores the small pang of loss she feels at his name. She thinks that in a different life they would’ve gotten along, maybe even been friends. “What was it you wanted to talk about?”

“Martin, actually. Well, Martin and Jon.” Georgie said. “I was thinking, and I understand if you disagree, that maybe we could... do something for them? Like a funeral or memorial or something? Maybe even just a headstone or something.”

Melanie opens her mouth to respond, but Georgie rushes in before she speaks.

“And I know you and Jon never got along, but I just think that after everything he deserves it. And even if he doesn’t , Martin certainly does. Even if neither of them deserve it I think it would help. My therapist told me I need closure, and I just thought-“

“Babe, babe, slow down,”Melanie interrupts, “I’d love to. Even if Jon and I... even if he was a bit of a wanker, he did sacrifice himself to end the apocalypse. And. Well, I just think t-that-“

Melanie stutters to stop for a moment to think. Georgie seems to understand that she’s not done, and squeezes her hand. Melanie takes a deep breath before continuing.

“I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up. Or after that. It was just me and my dad. When he died, they told me- they told me I couldn’t bury him. I couldn’t even have the ashes. Some bullshit about how he was part of a crime scene, which, looking now, didn’t make any sense. Not that I had enough money or time for a funeral, but... well, any closure would have been nice. I just- I just- I just don’t think I could let anyone close to me go un-un- I don’t know it’s just... it’s just bad.” Melanie winces a bit at her ending.

Georgie doesn’t say anything. Her hand stills from where she was playing with Melanie’s fingers. Melanie realizes a little belatedly, that she’d never talked about her father’s death with Georgie. After all they’d been through it seemed almost silly that Georgie didn’t know.

“And even if Jon was a wanker, Martin certainly wasn’t.” She tacks on in attempt to lighten the mood.

Georgie snorts at that. “Jon was... an acquired taste. He was a lot less uptight in University, but good god sometimes you could actually see the rod in his ass.”

“Hey!” Melanie says in mock offense “don’t speak ill of the dead!”

“You literally just called him a wanker!” Georgie retorts.

“Yeah but I’m allowed to! I don’t like him!” Melanie smacks her arm.

“Anyways. What do you want to do for them?” Georgie says once she stops giggling. “I was thinking a headstone, but that might be too much upkeep.”

“And people may not take kindly to a memorial to ‘The Archivist’ and his plus one.”

“Exactly,” Georgie agrees, “ so out with it. Give me an idea, oh wise prophet.”

Melanie pinches her hand. “Shut it, you. Maybe- maybe like a... bench or something?”

“A bench?” Georgie says teasingly, “that’s the best you’ve got? Not so wise after all.”

“Okay prophet, what have you got?”

“Maybe we could do something here? Like a photo album or something.”

“We don’t have any photos of them.”

“We could, like, write a heartfelt letter and burn it.”

“Maybe.” Melanie says with no small amount of suspicion.

“Okay, fiiiine maybe I don’t have any ideas.” Georgie relents.

They sit in silence for a bit after that. It should be uncomfortable, and probably would have been if it wasn’t Georgie and Melanie. Eventually Georgie gets up to find her phone so they can listen to the next chapter of their book. Melanie tries to lie down in the warm spot Georgie vacated, but The Admiral had already taken up the vacancy.

Melanie’s head lands in his soft fur, and he chirps inquisitively before curling around her head. Melanie buries a hand in his fur, and he rewards her with a content purr.

“Comfortable?” Georgie says when she re-enters the room. Melanie groans.

“Yes yes you fuss pot. Ready for our next chapter?” Georgie sits on the edge of the couch by Melanie’s head, and when she starts to pet her head, Melanie wishes she could purr like The Admiral.

Georgie snorts. “I think I might have a type.”

“And whats that?” Melanie nuzzles further into Georgie’s hand.

“Yeah,” Georgie pokes her cheek, “my type is ‘cats re-incarnated as people’. You can’t tell by looking at him, but Jon would absolutely melt at the slightest hair petting.”

Melanie is just about to protest being compared to Jon when an idea hits her. She sits up abruptly, and she hears Georgie give a little gasp in response.

“That’s it!” Melanie shouts.

“What’s it?” Georgie says, almost as loud.

“I’ve just had a great idea.”

Melanie gives her proposal, and even though she can’t see it, she knows Georgie is smiling the rest of the night.

—————

A week later, Georgie and Melanie walk into their apartment with two boxes. They would have just used one, but they were nervous the little ones would fight in the car ride that Rosie graciously provides them (with the payment of demanding photos).

And so Jon and Martin entered their lives.

One of the kittens is sleek black with golden amber eyes and short hair, and the other is white with blue eyes and so much fluff that he looks three times the size he really is. There were more kittens in the running, but these two were at the top (according to Georgie, they were basically photo copies of their namesakes), but Melanie decided these were the two when the woman at the desk told her they were inseparable.

They were worried about how The Admiral would react to their new additions, but it was proved irrational within three hours. The Admiral seemed to take a liking to them immediately.

“Maybe it really is Jon.” Georgie jokes when she stumbles on the three cuddled together. “Sometimes I thought The Admiral liked him more.”

(That was obviously false; anyone with -or with damaged- eyes could tell The Admiral adored her.)

They barely had to make an adjustment to their routine- the only real difference was the number of bowls during breakfast, and the number of feet that pattered in the halls.

Basira didn’t know what to make of it at first, but Georgie later told her that she stumbled in on Basira apologizing to Jon. Neither of them judge her for it; both of them did the same thing when they got him.

The days stretch to weeks, and the weeks stretch into months. Melanie goes to therapy, and attempts to keep houseplants. Georgie records her podcasts and teases Melanie when she fails to keep a cactus alive. Together they make their home with new cat toys (that The Admiral still refuses to play with), a cat tree (which the Admiral is more than interested in), crotchet throws from Rosie and the occasional mug from Basira.

One morning Melanie wakes to find the last bit of residual anger in her gone, and when she cries Georgie holds her tight.

Melanie loves it so much it hurts, and she wouldn’t trade it for the world.

#the magnus archives #the magnus pod #tma #what the gfs #what the ghost #fanfic #jonmartin #wtgfs #Georgie barker #Melanie king #Melanie is trans #just assume she’s always trans in my fics #this is my first Magnus fic #I didn’t edit this at all #what the girlfriends #Melanie/Georgie

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id-rather-be-an-outsider · 3 years

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Angel From Ymir

Reiner Braun

word count: 1418

summary: Reiner comes across a kitty. kitty decides Reiner is his person. this is Reiner’s written experience.

tw: mentions of depression + ptsd. cute cuddliness and Reiner being adorable.

a/n: cats are cute and well-suited for many lifestyles! but please adopt responsibly and don’t take on a cat unless you’re ready and financially able to do so! please remember: 1) keeping your cat indoors is the ONLY way to prevent them from being hit by a car, stolen, attacked by other animals or exposed to diseases! 2) be careful and do your research and consult your cat’s vet before giving your cat a flea treatment! some brands cause seizures that can kill your cat or shorten their lifespan severely! protecting your cat from fleas and other sicknesses should NEVER cost a cat their life! 3) declawing a cat is NOT taking away their fingernails, it’s taking away their FINGERS! cats need their claws to climb and declawing them is inhibiting them from doing what they were born to do! 4) if a cat can reach it, they can wreck it, and that’s on you, not the cat, and that’s on PERIOD! if you have items that you want to keep safe 100% of the time then keep them AWAY!!! you can’t tell a cat to not be a cat, but you CAN tell YOURSELF to be a responsible cat owner!

Entry 1 - Monday

I’m not all that sure what I’m doing. Pieck gave me this, and suggested journaling to help me. She said there’s no wrong way to do this but I’ll probably fuck it up like everything else, so here goes. I uh... had a pretty average day today. Full of planning, saluting, groveling to Marleyans while they called me a devil, and pretending like I don’t hate myself and hate existing. I can tell Gabi is worried about me. Nothing out of the ordinary at this point. A cat followed me home, a yellow tabby. Cats are a rare sight nowadays. They were skinny.

Entry 2 - Tuesday

The cat was sitting outside my door when I left today. It rubbed up against my legs when I was locking my door, and made a noise that sounded like a tiny motorcycle. I think it’s called purring. It followed me to work, and it followed me back home again. I feel bad that it’s so skinny.

Entry 3 - Wednesday

I set out food and water for the cat today when I left. Just some sardines I had sitting in my cupboard. The food was finished and the cat was there waiting for me when I got home. It meowed at me until I pet its’ head.

Entry 4 - Saturday

I had a nightmare last night. Not uncommon for me. Today was my day off, and when I woke up in the morning I heard a scratching noise at the door. Turns out it was the cat, because when I opened the door it ran in and sat in my reading chair like it owned the place. I guess it’s here to stay now, because it runs every time I try to grab it, and it’s not really scratching anything up, so... I don’t know. I moved the food and water bowl inside.

Entry 5 - Sunday

Second day off. I spent the day reading. The cat came and napped in my lap. I fell asleep at one point, too. What? The cat was warm. And the sun was shining on us through the window.

Entry 6 - Thursday

I wish we could take afternoon naps at work. The cat followed me to work again. Pieck saw and asked me about it, so I told her what I told you. She said the cat picked me, whatever that means. I’m not really an animal person so I don’t get why. When I got home, there was a dead bird on my doorstep, and the cat was licking its’ chops. Kinda disgusting.

Entry 7 - Friday

Today I woke up to a crow on my doorstep. This cat is crazy. I asked Pieck about it, she said cats bring gifts to their masters. Some gift, if you ask me. Another observation: cats like boxes.

Entry 8 - Sunday

Something peculiar happened. I had a nightmare, but when I woke up, the cat was there kneading on my chest, licking my nose and rubbing their face against mine. They haven’t left my side yet. Literally. When I took a shower they just sat on the toilet seat lid next to it, and every time I’ve sat down today they’ve climbed in my lap and purred really loudly, rubbing their head against my hands when they could. It’s almost like they could sense my unease. It feels... calming. I usually write at the end of the day but the experience made me want to take note.

Entry 9 - Friday

I’ve missed a couple days, to sum them all up: I go to sleep with the cat under the blankets and wake up with them curled up under my armpit or in the crook of my neck. Today they brought me a squirrel. Their presents are getting to be terrifying, but also normal. They brought me a couple rats the past few days, too.

Entry 10 - Monday

I’m getting this heathen a collar. I woke up to them holding a goose twice their size in their mouth, and the poor creature wasn’t even dead. I had to put it out of its’ misery.

Entry 11 - Tuesday

I came home to find the cat napping in my untouched potatoes. I think I’m gonna call him Potato.

Entry 12 - Tuesday

I think the collar worked. Between the bell and his tags jingling, Potato must scare off every animal in sight because he hasn’t caught anything in a week. Or maybe I’m just not seeing it and he’s been eating his catches after my last reaction. He’s been getting a little fat. I’m worried I’m feeding him too much, I’ve been refilling his bowl every time I saw it empty, which is about twice a day. How much do cats normally eat?

Entry 13 - Saturday

Potato’s not acting normal. He’s been meowing a lot, which is cute, but he also hasn’t been moving as much. And he’s been eating even more than he usually does. I just hope he’ll be okay. Cats aren’t usually kept as pets anymore since they’re so scarce, so no veterinarian will take him. They all keep laughing at me when I tell them my problem. Why is it funny to them? They’re being rude and cruel. If anything happens to Potato I don’t know what I’ll do. Potato is my best friend. Even when he steals my dinner from time to time, I don’t get mad at him. I talk to him about my day like he can hear me, and I tell him about the things I’ve experienced and it really feels like he listens, because every time I get to a bad part and start panicking or crying he’s there, helping me calm down. I haven’t had nightmares even half as often anymore and when I do, he’s there on my chest when I wake up, making me feel better. I can’t call out of work to stay with him. I’m worried he might die. If he does, I’m just glad I have these last two days off. So I can say goodbye.

Entry 14 - Wednesday

He’s getting worse. He’s been laying in the same spot in my closet for awhile. I moved his food and water there and brought blankets and his favorite box to make it cozy for him, but I don’t feel like I can do anything.

Entry 15 - Friday

Well... it turns out Potato was a girl. I came home from work today to find her laying with two kittens - a brown tabby and a black one. I’m just glad she’s okay, and trying to not to think about the fact that I now have two more cats that I’ll have to start feeding myself in a couple weeks. Potato’s been back to her normal self, mostly, but she splits her time between me and running to check up on her babies.

Entry 16 - Saturday

A couple weeks have gone by and I’ve been too busy to write, but the kittens are up and running around now. The black one seems very sure footed and confident in her steps, but the brown tabby runs into walls when he gets excited. He’s... kinda stupid. I made sure to actually check their undersides this time instead of just assuming. I’m hoping to find someone who can get them all fixed at some point so I only have to pay to care for the three I have now.

Entry 17 - Sunday

I have never found myself so content. Or maybe just so distracted. I don’t know. The kittens are cute and so soft but they’re also little nuisances, racing around at night and scratching up the inside of the closet door. They’ve bitten through my lamp chord three times now. I didn’t realize damage control was more expensive than the actual care for them. Why can’t they be like their mom?

Entry 18 - Monday

Gabi wants the brown tabby. I’m kind of attached despite his idiocy, but I see the way her eyes light up when she comes over to play with the kittens. He picked her as his and always cuddles with her. He won’t even sit in my lap now. He just wants Gabi.

Entry 19 - Thursday

Gabi took Porkchop home today. She picked out his name and I paid for the collar and tags. Her mom was already cooing to him within the first five minutes of him being there. Letting him go was the right choice.

Entry 20 - Wednesday

Oh god. Potato’s getting fat again. Wish me luck.

#outsider writes #aot reiner #reiner braun #reiner fluff #technically???#tw!depression #tw!ptsd #cat stories #outsider moods #cat moodboard #aot moodboard

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thetirisfaltheatretroupe · 3 years

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Big Troupe Announcements! Big Troupe Summer!

Hello, everyone! Lord Atos Sunhart here! For those of you who aren’t aware, Fehl had stepped down last year from Troupe related duties due to her own life becoming much more demanding, and so I returned to the director’s seat once again. I’ve been back for about a year, but we’ve kind of laid a little low since my return due to a lot of restructuring and our desire to try a few new ideas out that are coming along slowly but surely!

We have some awesome projects in the works, some of which won’t be ready for some time, and some that we’re excited to bring you much sooner! But we can’t QUITE open the curtains for a peek just yet. Before anything, I’d like to make a series of announcements about some of our projects this Summer, starting with the most important one of all:

The Troupe Is Casting!

Looking at some of the last posts made on this ye olde tumblr I guess it’s not a surprise that the troupe is indeed casting once more. In the past, it was due to not really having enough active people to pull off a large show with, but now, times have changed a bit, and we’re looking for people to make our shows even better and more frequent than ever!

What we’re looking for;

* Any race/gender/faction! Yes, we hire Alliance as well! In the era of Discord and cross faction RP, there’s no reason we have not to. Though, we are overloaded on elves at the moment and would kinda love a tauren or any Alliance character

* Obviously the character should be a good fit for the group! We’re not really looking for a serial murderer warlock who tries to sacrifice our members to the great Murloc Gods at the first chance they get. We’re not too picky here, but there are some characters that just don’t work terribly well with our concept.

* Available to take part in events during most of our performing days, which tend to be weekends, starting around 6:00 PM server. We base all our event times on server time.

* Someone who, behind the character, is friendly, patient, and above all else, mature. The clear rule of “don’t be an asshole” applies in this guild (and I’ll explain what that means below), and we have a zero drama tolerance policy. We are all adults who pay a monthly subscription to a greedy corporation to play with their toys, I think the last thing we want is to relive middle school in our 20s and 30s.

* Someone with a desire to help make memorable, exciting events for others to enjoy. While we play the part of celebrities, and being in the spotlight is a lot of fun, ultimately we want someone who, behind the character at least, does it for the enjoyment of others and not for personal gain or clout. We’re not clout chasers. We are proud of how long we’ve been performing and how hard we work, but ultimately we do this for our audience’s enjoyment.

* Communication is important! We aren’t a hardcore raiding guild, and thus we won’t be upset if you tell us you have to miss a rehearsal night or have a family emergency.. But if you know ahead of time, we really want someone who will let us know they can’t make it to an event so we can plan around it.

Furthermore, it should be said that while we normally do not require a person leave their guild to join us, this time around we’re looking for more to wear the guild tag above their heads, at least for this recruitment effort. Above all of these, the most important key point is the ‘don’t be an asshole’ policy. In the past I didn’t think it needed to be explained, but things we’ve been through in recent months compels me to explain what I mean by this; no homophobic behavior, racist behavior, transphobic behavior, harassment, pedophilia and other such illegal and morally vile behavior will be tolerated in our guild, period. But I’m sure you’re asking, what’s in it for me? Well, the benefits of working with the Tirisfal Theatre Troupe are, but not limited to;

* Being part of a near decade-old (8 years this October) guild that through thick and thin has stood the test of time!

* Working alongside some extremely talented, fun, humorous, and creative minds!

* Getting to make people smile and be a positive part of the community!

* Taco Tuesdays. This is a lie, don’t believe me.

* Helping an already fun concept become even better as we grow and adapt to the ever changing nature of this game and its community!

* Adding “Actor/Actress” to your long series of titles in your TRP Profile. Maybe somewhere between “Lord of the Dance” and “Wrecker of your Shit”! Don’t be bashful, we know you have it in there somewhere.

So if you’re interested in being a part of the stage and bringing the uniqueness that is YOU into our ranks, please send an in-game mail to Atos on Wyrmrest Accord server (Hordeside), or show up for the open auditions at the dates, times, and location listed below;

Thursday, June 3rd 6:00 - 8:30 PM Portrait Room - Legion Dalaran

Friday, June 4th 6:00 - 8:30 PM Portrait Room - Legion Dalaran

Saturday, June 5th 6:00 - 8:30 PM Portrait Room - Legion Dalaran

We hope to see you there! And remember, because we’ve had this happen a few times; if you think you aren’t good enough, you’re probably actually amazing and far more talented than you think!

Anniversary Bash 2021 Officially Planned! With a Twist

Those of you who have followed us for some time are likely aware of our annual celebration we hold on the anniversary of our first major public performance! This has traditionally been held on the third Friday of every October, so that it lines up perfectly with Hallow’s End starting. While we have had on-off years, and even said in the past we would never do it again (Insert I was crazy that time meme here), it’s pretty clear that at least every other year we seem to take to it again with new ideas. Honestly, we LOVE these yearly parties, despite how much stress they put us under, and we’re going to announce it earlier this year just so people know; yes, yes there WILL be a bash this year!

Things are going to be a little different this year, though. This October will actually have 5 Fridays in it due to...well...the calendar! It conspires against us, dammit! Because the third Friday falls in place before the Hallow’s End events are set to start, we will instead be bumping it up one week to the 22nd. So, there you have it! Our Big Bash will be on the 22nd of October! We’ll be making a full announcement about it later this Summer, and honestly, I think folks are going to really like the fun we have planned for it. So if this is something you’re looking forward to early, or you just like making sure your calendar events are always filled out, please make a mark for

October 22nd, 2021!

Hellsqueal Squeals Again, Plus Winter’s Veil In July?

This Summer we’ll be getting back to our roots and bringing Hellsqueal back for another round. The Trilogy will rise again, and you won’t want to miss it! This time we’ll be performing it for our audiences on both sides of the factional fence and making some revisions to the script, but long time fans needn’t worry! Hellscream is still the same boisterous buffoon he’s always been.

Also, we’re bringing you an interesting new concept no one has EVER thought of before! ...well, okay, that’s a lie, but Greatfather Winter needn’t send me a lump of coal in my in-game mailbox for that one! The TTT will be hosting a Winter’s Veil themed party IN JULY! Don your gaudy sweaters, get ready to meet Greatfather Winter, take part in a sled race, and get ready to watch a completely out of season showing of It’s A Wonderful Unlife! Some lucky attendees may even receive a gift! The date for this and for Hellsqueal’s trilogy are yet to be announced, but they will be unveiled very soon!

Even though we never left, it feels good to be back at full strength again and pushing hard to give everyone the quality entertainment we pride ourselves on! Keep an eye out for our announcements this Summer - we’ll be hitting not only Tumblr when an event is ready to go, but the Blizzard forums and various Discord community servers! So please, have a fantastic day, week, month, even a year!

#tttevents #Wyrmrest Accord #WRA RP #Wow Rp #Hordeside events #alliance rp

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 4 years

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Chapter 19 -- Perfect Harmony | Charlie Gillespie

Summary: Emily Fox is a talented 17-year-old with a passion for all things music. Her dream is to become a successful singer-songwriter one day. But to achieve that dream, she needs to get into one of the most prestigious music schools in her district – it’s all been part of her plan since she was six. Sadly enough, those schools cost a ton of money that her parents don’t want to invest. They don’t even want her to pursue her dream. So, now Emily’s hustling, working at the music store to save up to get into college. That’s until she meets Charlie, an annoying seventeen-year-old boy with the same dream as her. The only difference is, he’s just doing it. He doesn’t need a fancy college to pursue his dream to become famous with his band. He just writes his songs and books small gigs here, there and everywhere. Will meeting Charlie defer her from her dream college, or will he actually help her achieve the dream?

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x OC (Emily Fox)

Warnings: mentions of death, sexual assault

Important note: the characters of Charlie, Owen, Jeremy and Madison are based on the characters they play on the show and i do not own their names, only OC are mine. The songs aren’t mine either, they’re all from the show except for one.

~|Emily Fox|~

The days leading up to my audition for the Music Academy have been nerve-wrecking, to say the least. The first few are okay, I spent Sunday with Charlie at his place, cuddling in his bed and playing boardgames with his parents in the afternoon. And on Monday, I go back to school where Madi doesn’t leave my side unless we have separate classes. Tuesday is fine too, with band rehearsal and writing songs with Charlie, the nerves have been pushed down a little. On Wednesday, we rehearse a new song called Stand Tall. I think we have the first Emily and The Foxes anthem with that one. Even Thursday, I’m still fine. It’s the Friday when everything goes wrong. Everything bothers me. Even the smallest things like a student tapping their pen on their desk or another one chewing their sandwich during lunch. Ash doesn’t even say anything when I come into work after school. She can sense something’s up. She can sense the nerves wracking my brain. The only thing she does, is give me a sympathetic smile before leaving the store. Charlie, however, does not sense anything. He’s oblivious to anything I’m feeling. “Hey, baby,” he greets when he walks in, and kisses my cheek while I’m at the grand piano, sorting through sheet music nervously. I can’t believe my audition is tomorrow and I don’t even know what song I’m going to perform for the teachers and dean of the Music Academy. Or what outfit to wear. It’s one thing dressing up for school or a show with the band, but for an audition of a fancy music school? Suddenly, I feel two strong hands on my waist, turning me around until I’m face-to-face with Charlie. He has those worrisome eyes I saw for the very first time on Uncle Robert’s anniversary. The hazel pools with darkness and sadness. “Are you okay?” he asks, raising his eyebrows. “I’m fine,” I reply and turn back to sorting. “Are you sure? Because I asked you something?” “Then don’t ask me anything!” I snap, which makes him step away from me. “God, Charles, can’t you see I’m busy?” It’s silent for a moment until I hear a melody float through the air. “I know you’re stressed out, baby,” he tells me with a soft and careful voice, “But you’re going to rock those teacher’s heads off tomorrow.” I give him a sharp look. “This isn’t an Open Mic Night, Charles. This is an audition. One that decides my entire future, okay? So, please, just don’t. Whatever it is you’re doing, just don’t.” He stops playing the guitar abruptly and places it back in its spot. He then moves back behind the counter and continues working in silence. That silence last for about half an hour. Jeremy and Owen burst into the store, beaming with excitement. “Who’s ready to rock?!” Jeremy yells out, putting up his hands in rock signs. I give the boys a sharp look, and I can feel Charlie looking at me before he runs up to the boys. “She’s really stressed out about you-know-what,” I hear him say while I focus on the sheet music. “It’s best if we don’t, you know… bother her too much.” Another silence falls on the store until I feel a presence beside me. Looking up, I find the tall blonde guy I’m glad to call my friend. He gives me a sympathetic smile. “I know this is stressful, Ems. Is there anything we can do for you?” I take a deep breath. “No, thanks, Oh,” I’ve never called him ‘Oh’ before, but I heard Jeremy and Charlie do it once, and I kind of like it. “Just… Don’t talk to me too much if you still want to be alive by the end of the day.” He lets out an airy laugh. “Noted,” he says and turns around, but then changes his mind and turns back, “Hey, you know we’ve got your back, right?” I nod my head and offer him the brightest smile I can manage. The boys then leave me alone for a while. They softly play some music, write some songs, do anything that doesn’t bother me. By the time I’m done cleaning up, the boys are still huddled up in a circle. Charlie has his guitar on his lap, and Jeremy has Charlie’s notebook on his. I can’t help the smile tugging at my lips. How did I deserve such good friends? They really respected my wish to be left alone with all of my nerves. “What are you guys working on?” I ask when I approach them. The three look up, hope in their eyes. Hope they’re allowed to talk to me again. Hope they didn’t bother me too much by being here. “I’m fine, by the way. Thanks for leaving me be for a while.” This makes them smile. Charlie removes the guitar from his lap, handing it over to Jeremy, and grabs my hand to pull me down onto his lap. He simply wraps his arms around my waist and rests his chin onto my shoulder. Jeremy hands me the notebook. They were working on Stand Tall. “I gotta keep on dreaming Cause I gotta catch that feeling” The lyric that stands out to me the most and I didn’t even put it in there. The boys have. “We’ll remove it if you don’t like it,” Owen tells me, knowing exactly what I’m staring at. “No, it’s perfect,” I reply, “Bobby would love that.” Charlie presses a kiss to my cheek, and places his hands on top of mine, holding the notebook together. “I think you should sing this one tomorrow,” he tells me and flips the page to the rest of the song. “This will blow all of them away.” My heart quickens at the thought of tomorrow. “You guys will be there, right?” I ask all three of them. “Of course,” Jeremy replies with a smile. “We’ve got each other’s backs, don’t we?” Owen repeats my words to me. That’s all I needed to hear tonight at a moment when I wasn’t bothered by everything and anything. These boys are all I need with me to face that audition head-on.

Taglist: @parkeret @lukeys-giggle @gingerxarmy @lovesanimals @hannahhistorian92 @marinettepotterandplagg @thequirkybookaholic @ashleyleblancx @calamitykaty @lolychu @bookdealer5 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hemmingsness @siennanoelle01 @iainttakingshitfromnobody @ifilwtmfc @luckylouiebug @kiss-themoongoodbye

Lemme know if you wanna be on the taglist!

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winryofresembool · 3 years

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Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 25

aka Caleo uni au

Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out…

Chapter summary: Halloween aftermath

A/N: Sorry for the wait again! This chapter wanted to become long (for my chapter) so I just couldn't finish it in time. About the future schedule, there won't be another chapter this week but given it's only Tuesday now, I think I may be able to update again Friday next week. Fingers crossed!

Thanks for all the comments again, you guys make me so motivated to continue! ♥ But I won't rant more, now I'll let you know what happens after the cliffhanger of ch 24.

Words: 3,8k+

Genre: romance & hurt/comfort

Warnings: none

previous chapter / AO3

...

Calypso woke up with her head banging in pain and a sour taste in her mouth. She also felt like throwing up. What was even worse than that, though, was that she had no idea where she was. She was still wearing a flowy, white dress instead of her pajamas and she didn’t recognize the bed she had slept in. Perhaps the strangest part was that she could hear light snoring from the floor behind the foot of the bed. She sat up on the bed so she could see who caused the sound, panic starting to surge in her veins when she recognized the dark mop of hair under a blanket.

It was Leo, sleeping on a mattress that had been taken from the other side of the double bed she had been sleeping in. What on earth had possessed him to sleep there, Calypso wondered worriedly.

Pulling a cover over her (which, she knew, was silly because obviously Leo had already seen her in her dress earlier) she continued scanning her surroundings and slowly started making some conclusions. This had to be Jason and Piper’s house, where they had stayed the night after the Halloween party. A party. Right. Her last clear thoughts were from the moment when she had seen the two Hunter girls arrive at the party. After that, she remembered vaguely fleeing the room and finding something to drink, and that’s when her memory got really blurry. And that was the truly scary part. She hadn’t been truly drunk even once within the past five years but she did know way too well what had happened the previous time she had done that. The biggest mistake of her life.

Before she allowed her mind to draw any more conclusions, she decided to rise from her bed and check up on Leo. He was still sound asleep and since the blanket had partially fallen off of him, she could see that he was wearing a tank top and boxers, which she took as a good sign. Since they both were at least somewhat clothed, she thought it was quite unlikely that they had crossed the line that she was not ready to cross. But that didn’t mean that nothing had happened.

“Ahem,” she cleared her throat while wrapping the bed cover around her a bit better, trying to make Leo wake up. She needed to do that at least twice more before he finally stirred.

“Wha… Woah!” He yelped with surprise when he realized where he was and with whom, quickly pulling his blanket over his mostly bare legs. “Morning, Sunshine. How are you feeling today?”

The panic had momentarily made Calypso forget about her headache and dizziness but now that Leo reminded her of it, she realized they hadn’t disappeared anywhere. Sitting back on her bed, she sighed.

“I’ve been better, that’s for sure.” She rubbed her forehead for a moment. “The worst part is that I have no idea what happened last night.”

“You… don’t remember any of it?” Leo asked while sitting up, and Calypso thought she could hear a hint of disappointment in his voice.

“I do remember what happened before my first drink,” Calypso clarified. “But not much after that.”

“In that case, I think I can help you fill some gaps,” Leo replied. “If you want to.”

“That would be good.” Calypso tried to undo some knots in her hair with her fingers, sighing with frustration. “Maybe you can start with explaining why we are both here. I mean, in this room. I think Piper and Jason have several extra rooms in their house.”

Leo’s face turned bright red at the implications of Calypso’s question. He had to clear his throat before he managed to answer. “Um… You were really not feeling well last night… And to be honest, some moments you seemed pretty desperate to… I don’t know, it seemed like you were trying to escape from Thalia and Reyna every time they tried to talk to you. So, um, we, as in, me, Piper, Jason, Annabeth and Percy thought that someone should probably keep an eye on you. Just in case. So. I volunteered.”

Calypso wanted to keep Leo distracted so he wouldn’t ask more about Thalia and Reyna so she asked: “But why you, and not for example Piper? She lives here so it would have been easier for her. You could have just driven home and come to pick me up today or something.”

��That’s… that’s true but I felt it was my duty… as your flatmate, of course… to make sure you’re OK,” Leo stuttered. Calypso had a feeling it wasn’t the whole truth but she didn’t push it. “Alright,” Calypso said. “But why were you sleeping in this room? Like I said earlier, there are other places…”

“Ahem,” Leo made a coughing sound again. “That’s because you asked me to stay here. And I’m not lying about that. You can think anything you want about me but I would not do anything without your consent… um, not that any of that has even crossed my mind, gods.”

Even though Calypso was relieved to hear that because it proved that nothing had happened between them, she had to admit to herself that perhaps a tiny part of her was a bit disappointed. Leo’s reply made it sound like he did not have any romantic feelings towards her. Or then he was a liar. Either way, Calypso wasn’t sure what she should think.

“I… asked you to stay with me?” she repeated instead.

“Um, yeah,” Leo replied, his fingers tapping on his blanket absentmindedly. “You said something about nightmares… and I dunno, you just didn’t wanna be alone. Piper asked if you’d like her to stay but… you picked me? I don’t know why.”

There was a long pause before Calypso answered. Maybe it was her dizzy head making her make decisions she usually wouldn’t, but she thought there was no reason to deny it anymore. Feeling the warmth on her cheeks, she finally replied: “That’s because – I hate myself for this, but - you… you mean more to me than her.”

“I… what?” Leo frowned, looking like he was wondering if he had heard right.

Calypso sighed deeply and hid her face into her hands. She hated how fast her heart was racing in that moment. “I’ve been trying to deny that for several weeks now, but… I guess the drunk me was more honest than what I usually am.”

Leo crossed his arms, inching closer to Calypso on his mattress so he could look at her directly. “But… but… what does it mean? I mean, I do have an idea because I’m not an idiot even if I seem like one – but I need to hear it from you.”

“Leo Valdez, it means I like you! In a very non flatmate like way! There, are you happy now?” Calypso’s voice started cracking and she felt like she was on the verge of tears.

“Of course I am!” He exclaimed, almost jumping up from his mattress. “I think I’ve had a crush on you ever since you got mad at me for smashing your table!”

Calypso’s mouth opened in surprise. “You… have? But… how?”

“When you got mad at me that time, I saw some fire in your eyes. Like, OK, I’m gonna admit that you looked hot from moment one but I didn’t care about that. I didn’t,” he repeated when Calypso looked at him skeptically. “I know a lot of girls who kinda remind me of you with their shiny long hair, perfect eyelashes, et cetera, but many of them are the type of people who used to laugh at me at high school. And I mean, not in a good way. But when I saw that fire, somehow I was convinced that you were different. You have just the kind of spunk that I like and you’re not afraid to call me out when I deserve it – but you’re still fair and don’t judge the book by its cover. Fine, of course I was worried I was wrong and you wouldn’t forgive me for that mistake. But, somehow, this one time, I was right. And I only got more convinced as I learned to know you better.”

“Leo…” Calypso was starting to lose the fight against the tears.

Leo looked extremely worried when he realized she was crying. “What? I thought you’d be happy to hear that? I like you – you apparently like me for whatever crazy reason – what’s the problem?”

Calypso tried to brush off the tears from her face before answering, her eyes sparkling with frustration. “The problem is that you just made this – what I should do – a hundred times harder! If… if you hadn’t answered to my feelings, I could have just tried to accept that and eventually moved on. But… how are we going to live with this knowledge, live under the same roof… when nothing can happen?!”

Leo started to freak out. “What do you mean ‘nothing can happen’? Calypso, could you please finally be clear with me? Why did you just confess your feelings and then say… that?”

Calypso didn’t miss that Leo used her full first name, a thing he did quite rarely. Her voice was still a bit hoarse when she answered:

“Alright. I have plenty of reasons but here’s the first one: In the past… I’ve had nothing but unsuccessful relationships. I may have been really young back then, but it made me doubt myself, Leo. Several guys I really liked - and I imagined they liked me back - told me some big words… only to run to their ‘real’ girlfriends at the first possible opportunity. You’d probably say ‘but that was many years ago, screw those guys’!”

“Damn right, I would!” Leo exclaimed, slamming his fist on the floor next to him to emphasize his point.

“… And I wish it was that simple but it isn’t.” Calypso shook her head. “There’s more to that story than I care to explain right now. And then I met Percy a couple of years later and thought that maybe I’d be ready to try again. Well, you know what happened. It did not work out and I decided that when I’d finally have my freedom… I mean, when I’d move out and start my studies, I would make sure that I really am ready for a relationship before starting one. And I’m sorry, but… I don’t think I’m quite there yet. I want to learn to love myself before… you know.”

Leo finally stood up from his mattress and sat down next to her on the bed, not even caring about the fact that he was still wearing only a thin tank top and boxers anymore.

“I guess I can understand that,” he said, spontaneously taking her hand into his as a comforting gesture. “I’m no stranger to self doubt.”

“Then I guess we have that in common…” Calypso sighed, allowing Leo’s hands to remain on hers. “However… that’s not the only reason why I think it would not be a good idea.”

“What else is there?” Leo asked.

Calypso looked down at their intertwined hands sadly. “Well… I think I’ve told you my father is not the nicest of guys… But the truth is, I left home without his consent or knowledge. So, he’s probably looking for me right now. And if he does find me, I don’t know what will happen. I may have to go back. And I definitely don’t want him to find out about you. He has money and a lot of power and he’s capable of ruining anyone’s life if he wants to. He’d probably blame you for hiding me and have you arrested or something… It would break me if something happened to any of you, because of me.”

“Why… Why haven’t you told this to me before?” Leo’s grip on her hand tightened slightly and even though Calypso didn’t dare to look into his eyes, she imagined that they were burning in anger like she had seen a couple of times before.

Calypso rubbed her forehead tiredly with her free hand. “Because… what would you do in that situation?! I’d arrive at your home and introduce myself: ‘hey, I’m Calypso, your new flatmate, and by the way, I’m running away from my father who may or may not have kept me as a hostage for several years, but yeah, nice to meet you!’”

“A hostage?” Leo was practically growling now.

“Well… “ Calypso was suddenly hesitant, realizing she had revealed more than intended. “I was allowed to go to places… sometimes… but never alone… And I was homeschooled so… I did spend a lot of time at home… but we had a huge mansion… So it wasn’t like I was trapped in a basement or something…”

“But that doesn’t make it any more right!” Leo was almost yelling now. “I want to do something, I want to let people know what kind of person he is so he can’t keep doing that to you or anyone else anymore!”

“Leo, you can’t!” Calypso squeezed his hand, finally looking up at him. “Do you know how dangerous that would be?! And I swear, with his money he would only make the police go quiet about the whole situation… The main thing is that I’m here, right now, and relatively safe. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe he doesn’t care where I am. I don’t know what he’s thinking, to be honest.”

Leo was quiet for a while, breathing heavily and fiddling with the bed covers. “Well… Fine, I’ll let that be, for now. But I swear to gods, or the River Styx, or whatever the hell those ancient Greeks used to swear on, that if he does something to you, I will not let it be anymore. I… and I think I can speak for all of our friends, that we all… will make sure that he will go down with a bang.”

Leo’s comment about the ancient Greeks managed to cheer Calypso up a bit. “You sound like you would physically fight him. And how exactly would you do that?” she asked. “With your tools?”

“That’s not a bad idea!” Leo exclaimed, getting into his fantasies. “I would definitely bring my trusty hammer. Or, I could build a…”

“Hey, now, I was not being serious! But you sound like you are,” Calypso stopped him by putting a finger on his lips. “I absolutely don’t want you to do anything where you could get hurt.”

“Me? Getting hurt? That’s unheard of,” Leo attempted to joke once Calypso removed her finger from his lips.

“Alright, now you’re not being serious. Didn’t you once tell me that you joke especially when you’re nervous?” Calypso remembered one of their earlier conversations.

Leo’s smirk disappeared. “Want me to be honest? I’m not great at the feelings stuff. But I just heard you tell me that you like me. For a moment I was like: ‘hey, for once the chick you like likes you back, maybe this could work out’. And then you told me that apparently your father is some kind of psycho who is still controlling you, his adult daughter. I am glad that you told me about all this but you can’t expect me to stay calm when someone I care about is in danger. You wouldn’t stay calm either, would you?”

Calypso shook her head. “No. You’re right. I would also want to help you. And I really am sorry, I wish things were different and we could… Maybe one day. That’s all I can say.”

Leo sighed and ran his free hand through his hair. “OK. I get it.”,

A silence fell into the room as they both tried to take in what had just happened. Some automatic reaction made Calypso lean her head against Leo’s shoulder as if she was trying to tell him with the touch that she really was sorry. She was thankful he did not shift away. Eventually, she asked:

“So… tell me more about last night. Did I embarrass myself badly?”

“Naah…” Leo lied at first, a smile returning to his face as he remembered some of the things that had happened.

“You just flinched,” Calypso noted. “I felt it. You’re totally lying.”

“Fine. It was pretty funny when you had a karaoke duet with Piper and were too drunk to be able to read the lyrics from the screen so you came up with the words yourself. And at one point you just suddenly switched to Greek and none of us could understand what you were saying. But it wasn’t that bad. And even drunk your voice was kinda impressive. And your dance moves were definitely better than mine.”

“Wait, what? I danced too? Gods, please tell me no one filmed that,” Calypso asked, horrified.

“I can promise no such thing!” Leo grinned, and Calypso stopped leaning her head against him, instead elbowing him on the ribs. “Ow! I’m just joking! I don’t know if Piper got any photo material of that but I was busy dancing with you so I didn’t have time to film anything. Promise.”

“Alright. Sorry.” She lowered her head on his shoulder again.

“Guess we’ll have to hunt down Piper after this,” Leo said with amusement before recalling something. “Anyway, something kinda weird happened too. Like I said, it really seemed like you were trying to avoid Reyna and Thalia and I have no idea why. Every time they got close, you were like ‘gotta get a drink’ or ‘let’s go dance’ or ‘bathroom break’. I’m not even sure if you greeted them. Can you explain that?”

“I… uh,” Calypso tried to come up with something that she wouldn’t have to tell the whole story. “My half sister Zoë… She used to be a Hunter. But she died some years ago. An accident. I think those two probably knew her and… the wound is still too deep so I didn’t want to have to talk about her. It would have ruined everyone’s night.”

“I’m sorry,” Leo said, causing chills in Calypso’s back by running his thumb on the palm of her hand. “I had no idea... Feels like I’m learning a lot more about you now than I have the past few months…” “I probably should have told you about that earlier… So I’m sorry too.”

Leo bit his lip as if he was struggling to decide something. “If it makes you feel any better… I know how it feels to lose someone important. My mum. She died in a fire. Yeah, the fire that started my fear,” Leo confirmed Calypso’s suspicions. “She was the only family I had and after that I went from home to home and no one wanted to keep me… Sometimes I ran away too… That kept going until Emmie and Jo finally found me. It… doesn’t really get easier, but somehow… you still learn to live with it. Because you have to.”

“Yeah. I know the feeling. But if you have to find something positive out of this situation… at least we’re safe now. And we’re not alone, right? That’s what they’d want for us, right?” Calypso sounded a bit unsure, though.

“Yeah. You’re right.” They stayed quiet for a while, but this time the silence was comforting. Finally, Leo decided to break it, in his typical way.

“No offense, Cal, but you could use a shower. For all of our sake.”

Calypso quickly sat farther from him. “Oh my gods, Leo, that is so not appropriate, especially in a situation like this! What’s wrong with you?”

Leo put his hands up defensively. “Was just trying to be honest! The alcohol and the throwing up did not do good to you.” “Geez, I hate you,” Calypso mumbled.

“That’s fine because I hate you too,” Leo claimed.

“Not what you said a moment ago,” Calypso retorted.

“I could say the same back at you.”

Suddenly both Leo and Calypso burst out laughing, needing to release the tension the whole conversation had created. Calypso didn’t remember when she had last laughed that long or hard but she didn’t care, it simply felt right in that moment. When she and Leo finally calmed down, she said quietly:

“Maybe we are idiots, both of us.”

“Maybe. But normalcy is not for me. I learned that a while ago.”

“Same, to be honest.”

Calypso and Leo’s eyes met. Some barriers had been broken that day and even though there was still a lot of work to do, Calypso realized that it had felt good to talk to Leo. He hadn’t judged or questioned, at least not in the way she had expected. He had seemed to accept that she’d come out of her shell with her own terms. Something about it all just felt so right, and when she remembered that he had also admitted he liked her back… she decided it was time to get a bit crazy. Screw the consequences, if they couldn’t enjoy this moment, then what could they enjoy? That’s why she let her hand brush his cheek before resting it in his hair, gently lifting his chin with her other hand so he’d know her intentions…

“Do you think… we could forget about the stupid rules just for a moment?” She asked, resting her forehead on his.

“I think I’m down with that,” Leo smiled at her softly (Calypso didn’t like admitting it but that soft smile never failed to get to her).

They closed their eyes and started leaning even closer, but just when their lips were about to meet, the door opened. The couple quickly separated when Piper peeked in.

“I heard some laughter from here so I thought I’d come to check…” Then she noticed their expressions. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt!”

“Didn’t interrupt anything,” Leo mumbled, although it was quite clear from his voice he was disappointed.

“Yeah, no worries,” Calypso tried to reassure her as well, although her eyes seemed to be interested in a wrinkle on her dress.

“OK…” Piper wasn’t at all convinced but she didn’t comment on it more. “Well, I just wanted to tell you that we have breakfast downstairs. Whenever you’re up to it.”

“Yeah, we’ll be there in a minute! Just let me… clean up a bit.” Calypso exclaimed, getting up and starting to head to the closest bathroom. Leo also got up from the bed and started pulling on the clothes he had had under his costume the previous day.

“See you soon then,” Piper said, leaving the very flustered couple to get prepared for the day. Calypso could imagine that she and Jason would probably get good laughs from this once she and Leo would leave.

#caleo #leo valdez #calypso #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians #trials of apollo #my fics #caleo uni au

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the-weeping-author · 4 years

Text

Insecurities

A/N: this was request by @phoebethepheebs I was so happy to write it I’m sorry it took so long to come out, but here it is finally lol mores coming it’s my longest fic so far.

warnings: smut, cussing, oral, spanking, hair pulling, dirty talk, some angst.

Parrings: Steve Harrington x Reader

Word count: 3,749

Tag list: @ahoy-stevieboy @thehair-ington @linkispink1995 @harringtown @bvrningdesires @gardeniasandwhiskey @lxvesickreality @bluebellbrooke @harrington-ofhawkins @thenameishayley248 @ghostineleven @pappydappy

Please enjoy 😊

When the kids found out Steve and I were dating they were ecstatic, at first the kids didn’t warm up to me. They always gave me the cold shoulder or glares.

It got to the point I didn’t want to be around the kids like at all, I avoided them. The only one who seemed to warm up to me was Will.

The rest wouldn’t budge at all so I just gave up. It was a typical Tuesday. I was cleaning around my house so when my parents came back to town they didn’t have too.

I was doing dishes when the phone rang, I sighed putting down the plate I was washing, walked over to the phone picking it up after the second ring.

“Y/L/N residents.”

I heard Steve speak over the phone tension in his voice.

“Oh hey Mrs.Y/L/N is Y/N home?”

I smiled to myself at Steve, I knew he constantly said I sounded like my mom but I didn’t think he meant it.

“Steve it’s Y/N, my mom isn’t coming home until Friday.”

“Oh well what are you doing?”

I looked at my pink nails while I thought about the rest of my day.

“Hmm nothing much why whats up?”

I heard his demeanor change on the other side of the phone.

“Oh well the kids wanted to go to benny’s in about 30 minutes and I wanted to know if you’d like to come?”

I felt my stomach begin to knot up.

“Uhh Steve actually I’m pretty busy today, I don’t think I could possibly leave my house is a mess.”

He sounded unsure of my excuse, but he let it go.

“O-oh okay Y/N I guess I’ll see you around then.”

“Alright Steve I’ll see you.”

As soon as those words left my mouth I hung up, I walked back to the sink and continued to wash dishes.

*steve's pov*

After I hung up with Y/N I felt weird about it, she’s never stood me up, I wonder what’s up with her.

I just shrugged it off, spraying my hair with hairspray then grabbing my car keys, headed out the door to my car.

When I arrived at Benny's I saw the kids bikes, I smiled at the thought of being with my closest friends even if they were kids.

The only thing that would make this perfect was if Y/N was here. I got out of the car I probably should have checked on her, but I knew she didn’t like to feel smothered.

When I walked into Benny’s I saw the kids in a booth near the jukebox, I smiled pushing the thoughts of Y/N out of my head, I walked up to the kids.

“Hey guys.”

Their head snapped towards me all they smiled at me, but my eyes scanned over their faces, my smiles slightly dropped when I saw Wills face.

He was smiling but it didn’t meet his eyes like it usually did. I sat down beside Dustin, before anyone could say anything Will spoke up.

“Where’s Y/N?”

The kids all stopped, looked at Will like they wanted him to shut up. I looked at him smiling softly.

“Oh sorry dude I asked if she wanted to join us today but she had stuff to do.”

I heard Dustin mumble a thank god, I turned to look at him.

“Well when you talk to her can you tell her I missed her today?”

My attention came back to Will, I nodded smiling at him.

“Yeah buddy no problem.”

Lunch had gone okay, I couldn’t keep focus on any of the conversations going on because all my mind kept going back to was Y/N.

El was the first to notice I wasn’t talking as much as I usually do so she asked.

“Steve are you okay?”

I looked up from my food as the kids eyes fell on me.

“Uh yeah I’m just thinking about Y/N, ya know I wanted her to be here but she didn’t want to come.”

Mike looked around the table at everyone then he looked at me.

“Uh Steve about Y/N.. we haven’t really made her feel welcomed.”

I looked at them individually, they wouldn’t look back at me except for Will.

“Hey mike speak for yourselves.”

I looked at Will, smiled at him.

“I’m glad you at least made her feel welcomed, but as the rest of you I’m disappointed. You all should know how it feels not to be accepted somewhere.”

They all nodded at me, everything made sense now, why Y/N would blow me off all the time when I mentioned the kids.

After we got done eating I paid, walked with the kids to their bikes when Dustin stopped to look at me.

“Hey Steve, we really are sorry for not letting your girl feel welcomed. We just wanted to scope her out to make sure she had good intentions.”

I rolled my eyes at him.

“Well thank you but I have a good feeling about her, so I’m going to go see her right now.”

I got in my car, before I started my car I watched them ride off. When they got out of eye sight I started my car and headed to Y/N’s house.

*Y/N pov*

I was sitting on my couch watching some cheesy romance movie, ever since Steve had called I felt bad so what better way to wallow in my own self pity than love movies.

I’m not about to lie, I was WASTED. Like if wasted was a person it would be me. What led me to drink was I was thinking of Steve, how Him and I were never going to be together. It wasn’t his choice, it was mine.

mainly because the kids didn’t like me. Those kids were Steve's world, I wasn’t going to get in the way of them. It wasn’t right for me to so I was removing myself from the situation.

A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. I paused the movie, stood up walking over to the front door.

“Who is it?”

I asked through the door because I’ve seen a lot of horror movies when the girl at home alone opens the door boom she’s dead.

“Y/N open up its Steve.”

My drunken mind wanted to believe him but a part of me was still unsure so I wasn’t going to budge.

“Prove it, what’s my favorite ice cream flavor?”

I heard him sigh but he quickly responded.

“Cake batter.”

I smiled as I reached for the doorknob twisting it, pulling it open. My heart skipped a beat when I saw him standing there with a huge smile on his face.

“I’m sorry you know I get paranoid when I drink.”

He chuckled, nodding his head at me.

Yeah I do that’s why I tell you not to watch those movies.”

I shook my head pouting.

“I love them too much to give up on them,”

When my eyes met his there was something there, it was like how he looked when he got his first bike.

“Uh mind if I come in?”

I bit my lip nodding my head stepping aside while he walked into my house. The scent of his aftershave filled my nose making me feel even more intoxicated.

I shut the door, turned towards him. The more I looked at him the harder it was for me to tell him I couldn’t hang out with him.

“So Y/N I came by to talk to you about the kids.”

For some reason my stomach dropped, I immediately felt nauseous.

“Steve I actually wanted to talk to you about that, but I guess I’ll talk now.”

I took a moment to breathe when I was ready to talk. I looked at him.

“I can’t do this anymore, I can’t pretend that everything’s okay, the kids mean a lot to you and they just don’t like me. I’ve come to grips that the only person in the party who does is Will.”

Steve looked like he just got punched in the stomach, fear filled his features, he let me go on with my thoughts.

“Steve I like you, I really do, as selfish as it sounds I can’t be around people who don’t like me. I just can’t Steve, I know you probably don’t feel the same but I just wanted to let you know why after this conversation we are done.”

When I finally shut up Steve just started at me, he nodded at me understanding where I was coming from. When he looked up at me there was something there, if I wasn’t mistaking it looked like rage.

“No Y/N you can’t do that to me. You can’t do that to us okay, for the first time since Nancy I finally feel right, I feel like nothing can or will make me as happy as you do.”

I looked at him, my mouth opening some to say something but he cut me off.

“No Y/N let me finish you’re the most amazing girl ever, I’d be stupid to let you just slip out of my grasp, the kids just wanted to feel you out t-to see what you intentions were, they just didn’t want to see me hurt again, but I’ve talked to them and stored it out please give me a chance.”

I looked at him speechless, the alcohol was buzzing through my veins at full speed. My mind was spiraling, Steve had feelings for me?

My heart and mind were at war, my heart was winning. I stepped closer to Steve, he took a step towards me. He reached out to me, pulled me into his grasp.

His callused index finger ran across the bottom of my lip, His other hand ghosting over the side of my cheek. I nuzzled into his palm biting my lip.

“Maybe you should let me bite that lip for you.”

I looked up at him, lust filling his eyes, his hand stayed on my cheek, he pulled me closer to him, I leaned into him taking his delicious aftershave and cologne filled my nose.

His lips ghosted over mine, after a minute of him ghosting over my lips I opened my eyes meeting his blown wide pupils.

“Just kiss me already harrington.”

It was like that’s what he was waiting for because after I gave him the go he smashed out lips together. It was euphoric, he tasted like chocolate and spearmint.

At first the kiss was soft, needy but soon it turned into something more, our kiss that once was sweet turned into a heated kiss, our lips parted even further and out tongues slipped into each other's mouth, our teeth occasionally bumped into each other’s.

When we parted we were both gasping for breath.

“Wow.”

I smiled at him hearing his reaction to the kiss, I put my forehead on his.

“Yeah wow.”

He put his hand on the side of my cheek. Honestly, I loved the fact he could be passionate one minute, then be sweet and soft the next.

I bit my lip looking up at him, he looked like he wanted to continue so I pulled him back to me.

“Wanna continue this upstairs?”

Steve nodded his head, grabbing my hand pulling me upstairs, I giggled while we walked upstairs. We kissed the whole way up them, that wasn’t exactly as easy as it sounded.

When we got to the beginning of the hallway Steve pulled away looking at me.

“Jump.”

I nodded and jumped up, arms wrapping around my thighs holding me against him. He turned us to walk to my room, I smashed my lips to his.

I grinded my hips down into him causing him to let out a groan into my mouth. It made my insides melt to hear him groan.

He opened my room door and walked in, kicked the door shut. After he did so he walked to my bed plopping me down causing me to let out a giggle.

Steve took his shirt off, I admired every part of his chest. carving it into my mind, got above me and smashed out lips together.

This kiss was more wanting, so while we kissed I started to take my shirt off, I threw it across the room. He looked down at my almost naked chest, then back up to me.

“You’re so beautiful.”

I blushed looking back at him.

“So are you.”

He blushed at my comment and kissed my lips and made his way down my abdomen. I threw my head back as he got lower, when he reached under my belly button I let out a gasp*

“Do you want me to stop?”

I bite my lip, shaking my head, propping myself up with my elbows, Steve’s Callused hands ran up my thighs, under my skirt.

My breath hitched as his fingers went into my underwear, his hand getting closer and closer to my vagina.

I let out a gasp when he finally ran his fingers over it. He looked up at me and smirked.

“Let’s get a better look shall we?”

I bit my lip nodding at him while he slid off my panties, when he got them off he threw them behind him making me laugh. Him trying to be smooth was honestly hilarious.

He put both of his hands on my soft thighs and pushed them open, some of his hair disappeared under my skirt, I let out a gasp when I felt his breath on my wet vagina.

I bite my lip letting my head fall against the mattress, one of my hands gripped the sheets while the other found its way into his hair.

It was sad how he really hadn't done much, for me so worked up. His lips ghosted over my vagina which made me groan in frustration.

“Patients is a virtue.”

I looked down at him under my skirt and growled at him.

His head popped up from my skirt a stern look on his face.

“Did you just growl at me?”

I nodded my head, yes rolling my eyes.

“You think after keeping me waiting so long you would faster.”

He raised another brow at me, popped my inner thigh.

“Are you sassing me?”

I looked down at him shaking my head back and forth.

“Stand up.”

I nodded my head, did what he told me. Next thing I knew I was being bent over Steve’s leg, he pulled my skirt up kissing each cheek. He rubbed one side softly turning his head at me.

“This is what happens when you sass me understand?”

I smirked.

“What’s gonna happen if I do it again?”

He looked at me then pulled his arm back smacking my ass.

“That.”

I gasped then giggled.

“What’s so funny?”

I took in a breath looking back at him.

“Oh nothing just wondering if a mosquito bit me.”

He let out a sigh.

“Now Y/N I didn’t want to have to spank you but I guess now I have to.”

I bit my lip trying not to show him that I was liking it.

“That’s too bad, but I have been a bad girl and they deserved to be punished.”

He slapped my ass once and looked at me.

“Count with me okay baby.”

I nodded, his slap kinda stung my ass, I was regretting what I said.

“Two.”

I bit my lip feeling his hard hand coming down on my ass causing me to let out a gasp.

“Three.”

He brought his hand down again, it caused me to let out a small moan.

“You’re doing good baby girl just two more okay.”

I nodded my head biting my lip, my arousal going onto his leg.

“Four.”

His hit was a little bit harder making me let out a sharp gasp gripping onto the floor.

He rubbed my ass cheek a little bit to help take the sting away.

“Five.”

We both counted together, but when we reached five it barely left my lips, I braced myself. I knew this hit was going to be the hardest of them all.

He swung his hand all the way back and slammed it down on my ass causing me to let out a yelp, I guess he knew he hit my ass a little too hard because he was rubbing it.

“I’m so sorry baby I didn’t mean to get into it, it’s just the way you were whimpering and gasping just drove me wild.”

I got up looking at him smiling, I walked over to him laying in back on my bed.

“It’s okay I know you wouldn’t ever hurt me intentionally.”

My hands found the button to his pants , I unzipped his zipper and palmed his hard dick making him throw his head back letting out a soft groan.

“Let me show you how much I appreciate what you’ve done so far.”

He lifted his hips while I pulled his pants down letting his hard dick spring free. I looked up at him and smirked.

“Who got you this worked up?”

He bit his lip, looked down at me.

“You did.”

I tsk him and look up at him.

“Who am I?”

He looked down at me, his member throbbed pre-cum leaking out, and I licked it teasingly.

“Y-you did princess.”

I smiled at his sudden switch In roles, I quickly took him in my mouth and he hissed. I slowly sank my mouth down on his dick as far as I could go, his hand found its way into my hair.

He thrusted into my mouth making me gag around him, he set the pace with his hand. He pushed my head up and down around his dick moans escaping his lips.

When he pulled me up I was saddened, I loved pleasing Steve. I stood making him look up at me a red tint painting his cheeks.

“S-sorry I didn’t wanna finish in your mouth I wanted to finish in you.”

I nodded understanding, I walked over to my drawe and I pulled out a condom showing it to him.

“I’ve been waiting for this.”

He smiled.

“Will you be my girlfriend Y/N?”

I looked at him and walked over tearing the condom on letting him put it on, I took my skirt off kicking it behind me, I straddled his waist kissing his lips l.

He instantly kissed back, my hand found its way through his hair while he slipped the condom on, when we pulled away he looked at me lightly rubbing his thumb over my lips.

“Of course I will be your girlfriend Steve harrington.”

He smiled leaning in to kiss me.

“By the way we taste great together.”

I laughed kissing his chin then down his neck, my hands played with his chest hair. When he slipped his dick into me I threw my head back arching into him.

“F-fuck Steve you’re s-so big.”

He thrusted upward into me, groaned.

“Damn it Y/N you’re so tight.”

He slowly moved me up and down on his hard dick making me let out gasp while I felt his dick sliding in and out of me.

I grabbed his shoulders while he gripped my hips hard enough I knew there were going to be bruises in the morning, I moaned as his set started bouncing me faster.

“Shit S-Steve you feel so right in me.”

His breath started to pick up so he flipped us around him on top of me, me on the bottom. He slowly pulled out, he started rubbing my clit.

“Baby you’re so wet.”

Steve and I have never done it, we were closer to our orgasm’s than we’d like to admit. Steve and I have had years of sexual tension, we just needed to realize how we felt.

Now that we did there was no going back now. Steve thrusted in, out of me at an excellent speed. My nails drug down his back making him shudder. I grabbed him back by the back of his neck connecting our lips together while he fucked me.

I felt his thumb rubbing circles around my clit, I arched my back into him. His body heat made it comfortable for me, beads of sweat formed on the top of my head.

I pulled away from Steve looking young at him while his thumb circled around my clit faster, his dick fucking me into oblivion.

“A-ahh s-shit Steve I-I’m close.”

He groaned against my skin making goosebumps dance across my skin while he kissed and sucked at my neck.

“F-fuck me too baby, but don’t cum until I say so.”

I nodded my head biting my lip trying to suppress my orgasm while he continued fucking me. I felt his thrust speed up making my boobs bounce, grabbed his hair pulling him down to me.

His thrust grew sloppy, I was so close I couldn’t hold it anymore. Luckily Steve knew I was about to burst, I could feel my face heating up trying to hold it in, Steve looked at me taking my bottom lip in between his teeth and pulled my lip, when he let go my lip made a quote noise compared to us.

“Cum for me baby.”

I closed my eyes focusing on the pleasure and I came on the spot my orgasm causing stars to blur my vision, I felt light headed as I came, Steve guided me through my orgasm while he emptied himself into the condom.

After he came down he laid beside me both of us trying to catch our breaths, while doing so he peppered kisses onto my forehead.

“I’m so happy you said yes.”

I looked at him smiling.

“Me too.”

He bit his lip nuzzling into my neck.

“Can we have round two in the shower?”

I giggled at him pecking his lips softly.

“We can do whatever you want Steve let me just calm down first.”

He stood up, walked into the bathroom starting the Shower. I smiled to myself shaking my head at him.

“How are the kids going to be able to be around us?”

I smiled to myself getting of my bed, walked into the bathroom let’s just say neither one of us got much rest that night.

A/N: thank you guys so much for reading, I hope y’all liked this, sorry it was so long I kinda got carried away lol but more coming just keep a look out if you’d like to request please do, also if you wanna be added to my tag list let me know.

#steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington one shot #stranger things smut #stranger things fic #steve harrington #stranger things x reader

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cowplantberry · 4 years

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Chapter 1

Its been almost ten years since I had that final magical dream. Now when I wake, I no longer have that sense of fulfillment like I once had. You know that split second between asleep and awake? Now it seems so empty. *Sigh* Well I am almost 30, I can’t wallow in lost childhood fantasies forever. I have to admit life is nothing like expected it would be.

After college I got a big corporate job and even met a man. Turq is a really great guy. I mean what more could a girl ask for. He is understanding and kind and I know he would always be there for me. Stable and true. Its not the burning firey passionate romance like the movies portray, but I guess we cant really take life lessons from movies and novels can we?

I wish my father had mentioned how cut throat this industry was… No instead he spouted only the great benefits. If he had I may have decided on something a little less…stressful, but since he failed to do so, it was not until my Junior year in college that I became very aware of the evils of the corporate world. Sadly for me it was too late by then.

The only person in my life at that time to help me keep my sanity was my best friend and confidant Vanilla-Mango. We met sophomore year and became room mates not to long after. Even after graduation we decided who better to room with than with each other. I have to say it was probably one of the best decisions I ever made. I have a tendency to be a bit of a fuddy-duddy. In fact she use to tease me by calling me Miss Stick…short for Stick in the mud? Well anyways Nilla was my fun-dometer. If I spent too many hours studying, she would swoop in and save me with a little R&R.

But not even one of her fun excursions could save me from this…

“What is that?”“Huh? Oh its an email from the evil one herself”“Oh boy what does she have to say this time?”“Ummm…”“Dear Miss Fairy Floss, I regret to inform you that your last file report was never received. The file was due no later than Wednesday. Seeing this is now Friday and I still have no report. I am afraid disciplinary actions must be taken. Please drop by my office. We need to have a little chat.”Sincerely,

Victoria Bitters

“Oh Man that does not sound good! Did you forget to hand it in again?”

“Ughhh no way!I made sure to send it to her Tuesday night before I left the office. She just hates me.”“I don’t think she hates you…”“Oh no, she really does. Gah!! She always does this. Why didn’t she mention this to me on Wednesday ,when i could have done something about it?”“Ya, seems kinda suspicious to me. Maybe you should ask her that at your meeting today.”“You know as well as I do no one asks The Bitters Questions. Well I better get going, I wouldn’t want to be late for my oh so constructive tongue lashing.”“Good Luck!”

I never thought it would be possible to hate a building…an inanimate object. Well it is. Every time I walk up to the front door of my office, I just wanna run the opposite direction. I have used up almost all of my sick time and I am starting to get to the point where I just don’t care anymore. This job truly sucks. If I got fired, I think it would be a blessing.

I don’t think that will ever happen though. I get the feeling The Bitters get a thrill out of making my life miserable. Oh crap! My meeting! I am gonna be late.

Miss Bitters. Probably the most evil and unhappy woman who has ever walked this planet. Rumor has it she was once married, no one knows exactly what happened to Mr. Bitters, but I think she probably chopped him up into a million pieces and ate him and then washed him down with the tears of one of her former drones. Yup she is that evil.

“You’re Late”“I’m s-s-s-orry”“I was expecting to see that report Wednesday. Where is it? hmmmm?”“I put it on your desk Tuesday night before I left.”“Well thats funny I don’t see it in my inbox. You know what i think? I think you forgot.”“No Ma’am. I made sure it was sent out well before it was due.”

“Don’t you no ma’am me!I am your superior and you WILL NOT argue back to me!”

God is this woman for real?

“I want to see that report on my desk in one hour! One hour! Now, GET OUT!”

I seriously wanted to do leave that office and never return. When I got to back to my desk. I don’t think I had even gotten seated back in my chair when the in office phone rang.

“Hello?”“Yes, Miss Floss it seems I have found your report. That is all.”

*Click*

Great…

Ahhhh. Finally the only part of my work day I look forward too. My nice long and hot serenity inducing bubble bath. It seems to be just the trick to melt away that evil evil place from my being. Maybe I will just quit. I can tell Turq I wanna be a stay at home wife. The wedding is soon. I’m sure he would understand. After the day I had I don’t think anything I say could make things possibly any worse.

#the sims 3 #sims #berry sweet sims #fairlot #DALD

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adenei · 3 years

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Always a Bridesmaid, Never a Bride - Ch. 3

AO3 || FFN

The next morning, Jenny stayed true to her word and called me before work to grab coffee. As much as I wanted to hear about her night, I also sort of didn’t. Harry had looked at her the way I’d always dreamed he would look at me, and that was tearing me apart.

I’d probably gotten two hours of sleep, so I was planning on ordering the largest cup of coffee with a double shot espresso from my favorite coffee shop. t I grabbed my bag and looked in the mirror, giving one last check for bags under my eyes. Jenny was just leaving her flat as I was locking my own door.

“Good morning!” she said cheerily.

“Morning,” I said, trying a little too hard to match her bright tone.

When Jenny noticed me, she frowned a bit. “Are you okay? You look like you barely got any sleep last night.”

She wasn’t wrong, but I didn’t really want her knowing the reason why. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just some insomnia was all,” I lied.

We left the building and walked down the street toward my favorite coffee shop. Jenny was chattering on about how she needed to unpack and attempt to get some laundry done today. “Maybe I’ll even take a nap this afternoon as a reward,” she added.

I wished I could take a nap. Hopefully I wouldn’t fall asleep and drool all over my desk. That was the last thing I needed: Harry walking in and seeing me like that.

After we picked up our coffees and sat down at one of the small tables, I noticed Jenny was picking at her nails. She was probably waiting for me to ask about how her night was. I knew I was going to find out one way or another, so I took the bait.

“So, how was the rest of your night?” I asked casually.

Jenny broke out into a wide grin. “It was amazing! Harry took me to this posh restaurant where we ordered drinks and split an appetizer, and then he invited me back to his place. I didn’t get home until four, but I’ve just been so wired that I haven’t slept.”

“You’re this awake and you haven’t slept at all?” The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them.

Jenny smirked. “It’s funny. I’ve always heard about how ‘when you know, you know,’ but I never believed all of that rubbish. Yet last night, with Harry, things just made sense! He was so easy to talk to, and things felt different with him than the other blokes I’ve seen.”

“O-oh, well that’s good, isn’t it?” I asked, trying to sound pleased for her.

“He’s not normally my type, you know, the quiet, brooding kind, but there’s something mysterious about him that makes me want to go back for more.”

“Yeah, I guess he is,” Hermione said, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

“Tell me everything you know about him,” Jenny begged. “I want to learn more!”

I took a long sip of my coffee before responding. As much as I didn’t want to share that with her, I couldn’t resist talking about him. “Well, he’s such an inspiration! His parents died when he was a baby, so he was taken in by his Godfather, who was then murdered when he was fifteen. He worked really hard at school to fit in and make a name for himself that wasn’t necessarily tied to his parent’s horrific car accident.”

“Oh, my God, I had no idea,” Jenny said as her hand covered her mouth in shock.

I nodded. “They got into a car crash when he was one, and they both died on impact, but he was fine in the backseat. Everyone called it a miracle given the state of the car. He doesn’t like to talk about it, so I wouldn’t bring it up unless he does,” I added.

“Noted,” Jenny said as she nodded. “What else?”

Hermione took another sip as she thought. “Well, he dropped out of college, and used his inheritance to start the company. Harry worked as a temp for a major publishing company, saw how ruthless they were to many authors, and decided he wanted to help. It was either that or go into law enforcement. I personally think he’s happier here, but every now and then his reckless need for adventure strikes.”

“He likes adventure? What does he do when the urge kicks in?” Jenny asked with rapt attention.

“He’ll volunteer with the local police department. He got to know some of the detectives there when they were investigating his Godfather’s murder. Harry likes to help out with various neighborhood watch programs, too, and becomes a bit obsessed with helping solve the smaller cases.”

“This is so fascinating! I would have never guessed that about him. What about some of his random interests and likes?” Jenny pressed on.

“Harry loves treacle tart, he adores his dog Padfoot, and he plays for an amateur football league in his spare time. Did you two even talk last night?” I asked, surprised that she was asking me about him.

“There wasn’t really much time for talking,” Jenny chuckled.

“Right,” I said. I was pretty sure my voice sounded hollow as my heart dropped into my stomach. It looked like they were intimate.

“Harry wants to have lunch today, so now I’ll have things to talk about with him!”

That was peculiar. Why wouldn’t they have other things to talk about? Wasn’t she going to talk to him about her own life? “What do you mean? Surely, you’d have your own stories and experiences to share?”

“Oh, yeah, I do, but I’m more interested in him! It’s not often I meet a man who isn’t shallow and full of lies. Harry seems like the real deal. Someone I’ve been waiting my whole life for!” She seemed to be dodging my question about herself, just like she did whenever I asked anything too personal. It didn’t sit well with me.

“Ha, yes, your whole life for…” I echoed. “But won’t you have to leave in a few months for work?”

“Maybe,” she said in a noncommittal tone. “I was thinking of making a career change soon, so maybe now would be an opportune time if I’ve found someone to settle down with! That way I could finally stay in London.”

My mind was feeling rather fuzzy, and I was realizing I needed to get out of there. I was holding onto the hope that this would be a fling because Jenny would ultimately have to leave again, but even that was looking grim judging by the way she was talking. I checked my watch. “Oh, no! I’m going to be late if I don’t get going. I’m so happy things worked out for you last night! You’ll have to let me know how today goes,” I told her as I stood up and gathered my things.

“Okay! Tell Harry I said hi, will you? I promise we’ll catch up later!” she flashed me a genuine smile as I returned it with a half smile of my own and escaped toward the exit.

I tried my best to shake the conversation from my mind and not worry about it as I walked into the office. This wasn’t something that was worth fixating on, so I focused on my work to distract me. After verifying the to-do list that I left on my desk the day before, I pulled out my Filofax, wanting to double check that I hadn’t missed any appointments.

What I found instead was that the red headed pain in my arse decided to defile the one thing that held my entire life. “I’m going to kill him,” I said under my breath as I ferociously flipped through each page of my Filofax.

I grabbed my phone with a little too much force and punched the numbers into the keypad before holding the handset up to my ear and waited as I listened to the ringing.

“Weasley,” he answered. Why did he always have to sound so buggering cocky?

“Not only did you read my Filofax, but you defiled it with your name and number as well? What is wrong with you?” So much for attempting to begin a civil conversation.

“Hey, you got my message!” Ron responded in a disgustingly cheerful voice.

“How could I not? You seem to have penciled yourself in on all my Fridays for...oh, let’s see, the rest of the year!” I scoffed. “What do you want?”

“A drink. That’s all I’m asking for,” he said simply.

“Yes, well, that’s never going to happen so you’re going to have to get over it.”

“Well, the offer stands if you’re ever looking to meet up with someone who doesn’t want to talk about tulle and event menus.”

I laughed derisively. “Thanks, but no thanks. Goodbye, Ron.” I slammed the phone down on the hook before he had a chance to respond.

The nerve of him! I was beginning to regret that he was the one who helped me come to after my fall last weekend. For once, I wished it was Lavender who was there to help. I closed the planner and shoved it in my bag as I did my best to get through the rest of my day distraction-free.

~o~

The next few days dragged on, and the reminders of Jenny seeing Harry were enough to make me want to bang my head against my desk and smash my computer in. Harry never returned after lunch on Tuesday, and when I walked into his office on Wednesday, a new frame made its home on his desk. Inside was a picture of him with her. I thought that was fast, but I wasn’t about to say it out loud.

Jenny came in Wednesday afternoon and hung out in Harry’s office, learning all the ins and outs of his job, which I guess was nice. I could keep tabs on them and knew that at least they weren’t having sex in his office. The downside was I couldn’t get my own work done since I was too distracted by their vomit-worthy cuteness through the windows that connected the two spaces.

Thursday evening I came home from my seminar and had the unfortunate experience of running into them snogging outside Jenny’s door. I was mortified and just wanted to get inside my own flat without being caught. It didn’t happen, though. I dropped my keys as I fumbled with getting them in the lock, which broke the pair out of their passionate embrace. Harry made some awkward comment about not realizing I lived so close. Thankfully the walls were thick so I didn’t have to listen to them doing things all night.

Work used to be a comfort for me and I couldn’t wait to get to my job every morning, but this week flipped everything upside down. I just wanted to get to the weekend where I could distance myself from them. That hope was short lived though when I saw Teddy running into the office.

“Hermione!” he shouted when he saw me.

“Hey, Teddy!” I said as I gave him a hug. Teddy Lupin was Harry’s ‘little brother’. He’d been paired with the teen through his volunteer work at the Boys and Girls Club, and it’d been a perfect match.

“Are you ready for the game?” I asked him.

Teddy was dressed in his football jersey, and I knew he was waiting for Harry to take him to the sports complex where he played during the summer season. Harry never missed a game.

“Yeah! I’ve got a good feeling about today. I really think we’re going to win. Harry promised to run some drills with me before the game starts. Where is he anyways? He said he wanted me to meet someone.” Teddy looked at me quizzically.

“I think he’s in his office. Let’s go see!”

I walked next door and sure enough, Jenny was in his office, and they were making eyes at each other. Knocking on the door to break them up, I announced Teddy’s arrival. I watched as Harry rushed over.

“Teddy! Hey, bud. There’s someone I want you to meet. This is Jenny,” Harry introduced the beautiful redhead that was standing to his side.

“It’s nice to meet you, Teddy,” Jenny said with a warm smile.

“Hey. Are you Harry’s girlfriend?” he asked unabashedly.

Jenny laughed. “I am. So, you play football?” she asked interestedly.

I watched as Teddy nodded. I was surprised to see Jenny so friendly towards him. She did not seem like the type to like kids, but she seemed really genuine. It made me wish I knew her better than I did; not that I hadn’t tried, which made me wonder how open she was with Harry.

We arrived at the sports complex, and Jenny and I settled on the stands while Harry went to the field to warm up with Teddy. Harry wasn’t the coach, but he helped out and hosted clinics for the kids from time to time. He always looked so young and carefree when he was playing football, and I loved that about him.

“Harry is absolutely everything I could have ever dreamed of in a man. Have I thanked you for introducing us? Because I feel like I owe you my life,” Jenny told me.

Great, she’s falling in love with him. I felt my grip on reality slip even further, and I was clutching to a nonexistent hope that this wasn’t going to last.

“It’s...nothing,” I said. Deciding to change the subject, I asked, “What do you think about Teddy? Isn’t he great?”

“He’s the coolest teenager I’ve ever met! He seems like he’s got a good head on his shoulders,” Jenny commented as they watched.

“He’s an orphan too, you know. I think that’s why Harry hit it off with him. They’ve got a lot in common. If he could adopt Teddy, he would in a heartbeat. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s trying to make that happen.”

“I think that would be great for both of them!” Jenny said sincerely.

“Do you want a big family someday? Lots of kids?” I asked her, trying to learn a little bit more about her background.

“Kids, yes. A lot? No. I don’t want to subject my own future family to a life like that. I know what it’s like,” she said as her voice trailed off.

Before I could ask her what she meant by that, Harry was waving over to us, signalling for Jenny to join them. As she ran over, I pondered her answer. It implied she had a larger family than she let on. I only knew about the one brother in London, whom I’d never met in the five years I’d known her, and she rarely talked about her parents. Though I was pretty sure they were both alive and well.

I watched as Jenny interacted with Harry and Teddy. I saw her shake her head at something they said, and then it looked like they were teaching her certain moves. That completely baffled me. I thought she told me she was an athletic football trainer. What did she say when I’d asked her about it? That’s right! She said ‘something like that.’ Something strange was going on here, and I was starting to develop a bad feeling about it.

I shook my head. No, I wasn’t going to let myself go there. Not yet, at least. I needed more concrete evidence first. That’s what I resolved to as Harry and Jenny came back over and we settled in to watch the game.

~o~

Luna’s wedding was Saturday, so the reprieve I was hoping to find from Harry and Jenny was delayed, and now I’d only have Sunday to pretend my life was what it had been a week ago. Lavender and I were both in the wedding, so we were dressed in bright yellow evening gowns because Luna believed the colour should be a vital part of weddings since it’s supposed to bring happiness to the newlyweds.

The dresses were made of a polyester material for the long, flowy skirts, and the upper half was a delicate floral lace pattern. The neckline was strapless, with flutter sleeves that were off the shoulder.

“I still can’t believe we have to wear these dresses,” Lavender hissed as I was pinning the sunflower to her hair.

“They’re not terrible,” I told her.

“Oh, so you don’t mind looking like a hippie? And this color! I’m completely washed out and look sick. I’d take that taffeta lilac dress any day,” she continued complaining.

“It’s not your day, it’s Luna’s,” I reminded her. “Now come on, we’ve got an aisle to walk down.” I shoved her bouquet in her hands as we lined ourselves up for the procession.

While we were standing by Luna’s side during the ceremony, I couldn’t help that my eye was drawn to where Harry and Jenny were sitting. They were smiling and whispering things to each other.

I tried so hard to pry my eyes away, but I couldn’t stop staring. It was becoming harder and harder to keep a smile on my face. Lip reading was not my forte, but I was certain I just saw Harry mouth ‘I love you.’ My suspicion was confirmed when I saw Jenny’s look of surprise before she grinned and said it back to him.

I knew my smile had faltered, but there was nothing I could do to fix it, and I prayed the photographers weren’t flashing any pictures. Thankfully Lavender also witnessed the same thing, no doubt following my gaze to see what was upsetting me. I caught her disgusted look out of the corner of my eye, and that helped me fake a smile through the rest of the night, no matter how much I was hurting on the inside.

~o~

I was wrapping up at the office late on Wednesday night. I had a couple of manuscripts that I needed to drop off on Harry’s desk and then I could go home to relax with a glass of wine. I slung my bag over my shoulder and walked over to Harry’s office, setting the manuscripts down on the corner of his desk.

As I was about to head back out the door, I noticed something sticking out from under another folder that was splayed on his workspace. Moving the folder, I realized it was his wallet. I quickly scanned his desk calendar and saw that he was having dinner with Jenny at Valentini’s. It was still early, but I figured I could meet him there. I was sure he’d need it, after all.

When I got to the restaurant, I entered to find it completely empty. I looked around, thinking I’d gotten the day or time wrong, but then I saw Harry. A quartet started playing Italian music at my arrival, and Harry turned around with an excited, anxious look on his face.

After seeing me, he made a ‘cut’ motion with his hand and said, “No, guys, she’s not the one.”

The music immediately stopped and the musicians reset themselves as I looked around in shock. “Hermione, what are you doing here?” Harry asked, snapping me back to reality.

“Y-you forgot your wallet,” I said as I walked forward, my arm extended to hand it to him.

“Oh, er, thanks.” He didn’t seem concerned in the slightest as he tucked it into his jacket pocket.

“I’m sorry. I should go—” I turned around and walked a few paces when Jenny came around the corner.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“That’s her! She’s here, she’s the one,” I heard Harry say from behind me.

Immediately, the music began playing and a banner was dropped that read, ‘Will you marry me?’ Padfoot came from who knew where with a small box tied to his collar. This couldn’t be happening.

I tried to shrink away and hide, but somehow I couldn’t escape. I looked back and forth from Harry, who had extricated the box from the dog and gotten on one knee, to Jenny, who looked like she was in complete shock.

“Jenny, I know it’s only been a few days, but you’re everything I’ve ever hoped for, and I just know you’re the one for me. I can’t imagine my life without you. Maybe this is rushed, but I’ve waited long enough to find you. Will you marry me?”

“Yes, of course!” I heard Jenny say as her head was nodding vigorously.

I watched as Harry stood up and slid the enormous solitaire diamond onto her finger and they shared a tender moment. I thought I was going to vomit. I needed to get out of there.

“I’ll see myself out,” I mumbled. “Congratulations, both of you. I’m so happy for you,” I said as I side stepped myself away.

My feet carried me out of the restaurant, and I stopped at the edge of the sidewalk to lean against a streetlight. Harry and Jenny were engaged after only knowing each other for less than two weeks. How was I still desperately waiting and hoping for my own love story to begin, when Jenny’s had fallen right into her lap without even looking. And to the man I was determined was meant to be mine! Everything around me was crumbling, so I did the only thing I could think of that might help take some of the pain away.

I needed someone who wasn’t privy to the situation. Who wouldn’t judge me for being heartbroken over a man who never gave me the time of day. So, I opened my Filofax and pulled out my phone to dial the number that was written like graffiti over every page. He answered after four rings.

“Hello?” There was an air of formality in his voice that I wasn’t used to.

I took a deep breath and hoped I wouldn’t regret this. “So, about that drink…”

#romione #romione muggle au #27 dresses inspired #ron x hermione #side hinny

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