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#THREE TIMES THE CHARM PLEASE POST PLEASE POST PLEASE POST I'LL CRY
definitelynotshouting · 5 months
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MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE FINALE OF SECRET LIFE!!!!!
so i sped-wrote this as soon as i learned who the winner was this morning, tried to post it twice, tumblr mobile deleted it BOTH TIMES... but i will not be silenced ive finally gone to desktop /silly
this will go up on my rough draft pseud soon, but until then please enjoy the results of me being EXTREMELY unwell about the secret life finale. WOOOOOO WE ARE POPPING THE BIGGEST OF BOTTLES TODAY FR!!!!!!!!!!!
Grian barricades himself at the top of the highest tower of Tango's citadel the moment he wakes up. It's a calculated move, admittedly. There are a precious few places one might still find him if he truly wants to hide, but the Deep Frost Citadel isn't one of them— and with the second Decked Out coming to a ceremonious close, foot traffic here is perilously low. Dawn is a swift-approaching knife on the horizon, and Grian soars above it all, face numb with chill wind, wings brazen and feathers strewn across an empty sky.
He doesn't want to be near when Scar wakes. And he doesn't want to be found just yet, either. Oh, Scar will track him down. Of that, he has no doubt— but for now, Grian takes solace in the snow crunching underfoot as he locks himself inside this barren tower.
It's dark here, which suits Grian just fine. He doesn't bother lighting a lantern; instead, he huddles right on the floor, letting the ice seep through him. From here, he can just make out the sky as it lightens, bringing with it the dawn of a new victor. Nausea boils in his throat. With that victory comes a price, and Scar— And Grian— Well. Grian hasn't treated him very well throughout the games, now, has he?
He curls in on himself even further, feathers brushing along the length of his chilled arms. Each hair stands at attention, in some vain effort to pull warmth from the surrounding freeze— when he scrubs a hand along his arm, his fingers shake, and the gooseflesh remains stark and raised against his skin.
There was a sand-drenched point when the concept of warmth was all he could register— scorching wind scraping the cut on his cheek, the scarlet splatter of blood across split knuckles. And like the steady drain of life from a corpse, that warmth has drawn away, poison from a putrid wound— it leaves him compacting this cold, this loneliness, to mold it into four high walls around his heart; a fitting tribute to every grain of trust he's rightfully lost. Grian huffs the barest traces of a bitter laugh as his breath mists in the air. A better man would meet Scar at his base, extend his support, no matter how icily it might be met.
But Grian is selfish, and a coward, and will always be a coward— and so instead he sits, marrow freezing, with only the thin garrotte of paltry sunlight wrapping itself around his tender throat to keep him company.
And there he stays, motionless, for long enough that the chill makes a home in him— the glistening, pale yolk of the sun warns him of the passing time, a watery heat that counts down the seconds to minutes to hours until Scar finds him. Grian curls his wings around himself, a pitiful embrace, and waits.
Two hours later, the whistle of rocket-propelled elytra warn him of incoming company. Grian doesn't bother fleeing; he knows Scar, and Scar knows him, and with this last, missing puzzle piece finally slotting into place between them, he's under no illusions that staying hidden for long is feasible. Grian's eyes skitter to a crack on the far wall as clumsy footsteps scatter the snow outside, scrabbling for balance before the muted click of a cane joins them. Footsteps; another, louder click— the door's latch gives way, and a brief, blinding wave of light crashes over Grian's face, obscuring everything but the outline of a painfully familiar silhouette.
Grian has to look away. The door shuts, and for a small moment, neither of them so much as breathe.
Then Scar's sighs— one great, resigned gust. "Grian...."
He says nothing else. He doesn't have to. Grian draws his legs up to his chest in response anyway, heart a frozen pump bleeding ice into his very veins. What can he say? An apology? They're past apologies, now— if Scar wanted to disavow him forever, take the crumpled remains of their friendship and throw it at his feet, he'd be right to do so.
But Scar doesn't shout; neither does he leave. Instead, his cane taps forward, boots sliding into Grian's line of vision— and, with a grunt of effort, Scar eases himself down, until he's sitting at a safe diagonal from Grian's hunched form.
Neither of them say anything for a while.
Eventually, Grian licks his lips. They're chapped from cold, thin and ready to split. "Hi, Scar," he says softly. It comes out weak, thready— a barely-there declaration. Whatever Scar wants here... he can take it. It's the very least Grian can do at this point.
From the corner of his eye, he watches Scar settle, shifting his weight before he lands on something approximating comfort. He takes his time with it, blind— or uncaring— to the erratic snarl of Grian's pulse. His voice is just as quiet when he responds. "So... that's it, then, huh."
Grian glances over properly before he can stop himself, stomach churning; Scar's gaze has slipped to the cutout acting as a window, middle-distant and lost. Locked on something only he can see. Then Scar shakes himself, an abrupt jerk of his head and shoulders, and that glassy look turns to pin Grian directly to the wall behind him instead. "Just like that?"
Grian's fingers tighten around his knees. "Just like that," he agrees, hollow.
Scar mulls that over for a moment. His sigh is a wisp of white in front of them, crystallizing in the glacial atmosphere. "Jeez," he says finally, scrubbing one hand through the tangled bird's nest of his hair. He must have flown across half the server as soon as he... remembered, Grian realizes with a visceral pang. "I didn't... that's a lot of memories to just, um, gain back on a dime, huh?"
Grian darts a sidelong glance at him. Shifts his wings until their primaries lower, sweeping the ground around his feet like a feathered cat's cradle. "I wouldn't know," he says, a quirk of black humor dancing around the edges of his mouth. He swallows. "Since. Well...."
He trails off. Imagines, briefly, that he is a black hole— a quasar. A neutron star. Something so tight and compact it can string him out, erase him; a ball of grief and misery dense enough that it contains its own event horizon.
Scar hums a little shakily into the blooming silence. "Yeah. I guess that would complicate things, wouldn't it." A pause. "Does it always feel—?"
Grian shrugs. "Don’t know that either, Scar."
"Oh." Scar's still looking at him, the searchlight of his gaze burning pockmarks into Grian's skin. "Cool, okay... so...." He hesitates, teeth worrying his lower lip, before finally forging on: "So what now?"
Grian sucks in his own shuddery breath. "Whatever you want, Scar," he says, blank and dull. Every inch of him frozen stiff, awaiting the tipped scales of Scar’s judgement. "There's no going back, after this." The quicksilver flash of a grimace tugs his lips back to reveal sharp, white teeth. "Welcome to the club, I guess."
"It sure is a warm welcome," Scar says weakly. "Got— uh, got your complimentary balloons, and— and um, a whole gift basket of... of...."
He trails off too, the fragile ley lines of his humor peeling off, cracking at the seams. Impossibly, Grian curls around himself tighter.
An apology is nothing but wasted air now, but it dredges from his throat anyway. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry, Scar. I—" He breaks off, jaw tight. "I'm... I'm not sure what else to say, honestly. I never thought...."
I never thought you'd win. It's a cruel phrase that haunts the air between them, hanging like a smoky pall across their shoulders.
Scar says nothing against it; he only watches.
An uneasy prickle crawls up Grian's spine. "You don't—" He stops himself before he can finish that thought. "Are you— Scar, why are you here?"
"'Cause Pearl's not talking to me yet," Scar says quietly, prompt. "And— and because I remembered. Us."
Grian's throat closes around the word. "Us," he echoes, a rough rasp that ricochets against the deepslate walls surrounding them. The word tears through his ears, distorting with each pass. "Look, alright— I-I don't know if you got the memo, exactly, but— I'm not—"
He breaks off again, lungs jarring, hitching in his chest. Hot prickles sear behind his eyes, but nothing drops— he’s too tired for crying. "I've hurt you a lot, Scar," Grian says at last, lips numb around the words. "I'm not sure if there's much of an 'us' left, at this point."
"I know," Scar says. His eyes reflect the snow-glitter outside.
"And— I wouldn't blame you, if you left right now." 
"I know," Scar says again, softer.
"I—” Grian stares at him, helpless. "Okay, then why are you here, Scar?" He gestures between them, an aimless motion that somehow encompasses the breadth of everything that's rotted at their foundations. "If you know all that, then what—?"
Scar regards him with enviable poise. His throat bobs as he speaks. "Maybe, I just— now that I remember— maybe I just want your company, Grian. Is that really so bad?"
Grian stares at him, at a loss. "I don't understand," he says finally, and it comes out plaintive even to his own ears. "I thought you'd be— angry. After everything I've done, after all that's happened.... What's your play here, Scar? If you want to yell at me, be my guest. I think by now I've more than earned it."
But Scar doesn't take the bait. Instead, he shuffles closer— just by an inch. A careful, cautious inch. "Y'know," he says, apropos of nothing, "and correct me if I'm wrong, here— but I seem to remember something about you wanting an alliance before all of... that crazy stuff happened. Is that right?"
Something in Grian's chest spasms. Whatever expression it spreads across his face must spur Scar on, because he scoots closer again, just enough to bring their calves together. The brief shock of warmth explodes through Grian's skin, worming its way underneath the subcutaneous tissue to flood his veins and gnaw at the lingering ice.
After a moment, Scar's lips tilt up— a subtle, fragile smile. "Is it too late to cash in on that?" he asks.
Grian's mind goes blank, white and buzzing, the thin hiss of a creeper drifting through it like smoke. Unfiltered shock threads through his voice. "You want t— what?"
Scar's smile tempers further around its edges, stretching into something softer, knowing. Rounded out. With solemn motions, he reaches into the pocket of his utterly ridiculous safety vest, and delicately pulls something out.
It's a sunflower.
In the frigid gloom of Tango's citadel, Grian gapes, the brilliant yellow petals incongruous with this grim, grit, darkened room. When he looks up, Scar's eyes are overbright, painfully earnest— brimming with a desperate urgency that tucks itself away in the depths of his pupils.
"Can we try again?" Scar says, soft as the new-fallen snow beyond this isolated cell of misery. "Start over? I— I kind of hurt you too, you know. And— for the record, being without you sucks. I don't—" He falters. "I know it's gonna be all weird, y’know, between us… but I don't want to do that anymore. I just... want you here, Grian. That's all. I just want you to stick around."
Grian sucks in a sharp, daggered breath. "You're joking," he breathes, but his heart leaps, tumbling from his throat and onto the floor for Scar to stomp at his leisure. "You're actually— this isn't funny."
"Hey, do you see me laughing?” Scar presses forward once more, a calculated attack, but still slow enough for Grian to track each move, to stop him if he cared enough to. Gently, Scar unwinds one of Grian's hands from his knees, cupping it between his own and brushing the lightest of kisses against his knuckles before turning over Grian’s palm and pressing the flower into it. Grian's fingers curl around it of their own accord, silky petals burning against his fingers.
"So." Scar smiles, tremulous, eyes suspiciously red-rimmed. "Can we still be friends?"
And Grian has always been a raw creature, a tangled wreck of his own selfish greed— he’s craved the honeyed umber of Scar's love since he first cradled it, tentatively, in his palms all that time ago. In the depths of his heart, there will always be that sandstone cliff, the crack of his bones against hard-packed sand, and wings too clipped to fly freely. There will always be that calloused fist around his heart, and beyond his own scrabbling fear, there will always, always be that fervent need to bring Scar close even as he pushes him away.
And where before, Scar had been playing blind, a game with no true rules… now, his eyes trap Grian against the wall, clear as glass— diamond sharp and just as steady. From a winning game, there is no turning back. There’s nothing left to lose here, except this porcelain trust, this shred of hope Scar offers him once more in the form of a flower.
Even after everything, all the memories flooding back— Scar is still here, holding Grian’s heart, and offering up his own in return.
Grian slowly presses it to his chest with trembling, vulnerable motions. "You're sure you want this."
"I'm sure I want you," Scar says, unwavering.
Grian breathes in. Breathes out. Inhale and exhale, both a heavy drag in his lungs. Already, the sun is beginning to strengthen, casting thick rays through the window and splaying them across Grian’s lap. The advent of gilded noon weaves around them, perfuming the air with light and heat.
"Okay," Grian says at last, and it drops from his lips with the weight of a confession; a relinquishment; a solemn vow. "Okay."
This time, when Scar reaches for his hand again, Grian meets him halfway, and the tangle of their fingers nets the sunflower in a promise neatly between them.
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sunnebeam · 2 months
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in the heart of the jungle.
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A 'CITY OF LIGHTS' DRABBLE.
pairing: jeon jungkook x reader
warnings: smut (18+), gangster squad au, mentions of mafia shit, flashbacks, domesticity, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), a happy ending yall :'>
masterlist + disclaimers.
note: i'm alive, friends!!!! 😭 sorry it took so long to post this but things have been hectic irl. i'll make a separate post about it but anyways here's the finale!! i can't believe this is the final drabble 😭 thank u guys for sticking around. hope u enjoyed this cute lil drabble series & don't forget feedback is highly appreciated <3
— previous – ain't no god on my streets.
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"Looking for this?"
You look up to see an extremely attractive man holding up your bracelet. You don't remember taking it off.
"Thanks," you say, taking it from him, thinking you must've accidentally lost it earlier when you and Taehyung first arrived at the restaurant.
"Sure," he responds and you're about to head back to your boyfriend's table when the man decides to introduce himself. "I'm Jungkook, by the way."
You tell him your name but you don't leave it at that, intrigue making you want to see where your conversation goes.
"Say, Jungkook, I bet you got a good story behind that handsome smile of yours."
"Yeah, sure, I got some stories," he says, smiling smugly. "Let's see, I almost got kicked off a plane once. Slept with one of the flight attendants in the restroom but turns out she was the pilot's girlfriend."
He turns to you. "Are you weak in the knees yet?"
"Sure I am," you hum, staring at his silver watch and silver hoop earrings. "What's your racket, handsome?"
"Me?" He shrugs. "Well, I'm actually a Bible salesman."
He's so full of shit. But, he's hot.
"A Bible salesman, huh," you huff. "So you wanna take me away from all of this," you gesture to the fancy restaurant and the posh customers, "and make an honest woman out of me?"
He shakes his head.
"No, doll. I was just hoping to take you to bed."
You wake up with a start, the charms on your bracelet – the very same bracelet from your dream – digging into your wrist as you're clenching your fist with more strength than usual.
The reason? No other than the man behind you.
"Good," he says, his breath tickling your ear as he spoons you, "you're finally awake."
It takes you a heartbeat to fully register why you woke up but then you feel fingers moving in and out of you at such a pleasurable pace.
Three fingers, to be specific. And tattooed ones, at that.
"J-Jungkook?" you stutter, mind half asleep and half focused on the sensation.
"You're so wet, doll," he says, groaning when you clench around his fingers. "Fuck!"
You reach behind you, fully awake now, and grab a hold of his hard member. You pump it a few times before he finally gets the message.
"Lift your leg up," he orders, fingers pulling out of you. "Higher, doll– Yeah, that's it. Good girl."
You feel more juices dribble out of you with the praise and Jungkook takes full advantage of this, smearing them all over his painfully hard dick. You whine when he purposely nudges your clit with the head.
Finally, he pushes in.
You both moan, the feeling of being connected already so familiar yet it never fails to amaze the both of you everytime. You don't move yet, savoring the warm feeling for a few more seconds before you finally get impatient.
"Jungkook, please," you plead when you feel him twitch inside you.
Your lover complies without second thoughts, thrusting in and out of your pussy, languidly at first but then slowly picking up the pace.
You moan loudly, reaching behind you to place your hands behind his head and gently pull his hair. He grunts appreciatively before his hand reaches down your front and plays with your clit for you.
His thrusts become faster, his cock slipping out of you in between sloppy thrusts but he manages to put it back in before you could even cry in protest.
It's messy, sloppy, desperate, passionate.
It doesn't take long before you're creaming around him, pussy walls contracting to milk his orgasm out of him. He follows right after, painting your insides white and giving you all he's got.
You're both spent, panting, but he doesn't pull out right away, knowing you like it like this. Instead, he kisses your temple tenderly and hugging you close, knowing you like the closeness.
"I love you," he whispers freely.
"I love you, too," you respond just as freely, the days of hiding your love far behind you.
He grins before looking at the clock. "We're gonna be late."
You pout, making it hard for him to resist you when you ask, "a couple more minutes, please?"
It was all too easy for Jungkook to agree with your request. But in hindsight, the two of you should've known better because now, you're getting ready in a hurry, having lost track of time.
Your lover watches you as you're rummaging through your drawers looking for your bracelet, and it reminds of him of the very first night you met.
He remembers trying to charm you, but he most especially remembers you seeing right through his act. He remembers thinking you were way too good for him, so he kept telling himself it was all for the case and you were just a means to crack it.
But most of all, he remembers all that has happened in between, and he couldn't be any happier that this thing with you worked out in the end.
Jungkook shakes out of his daydream to hear you calling for him.
"Looking for this?" he asks you, smirking.
You turn to see him holding your bracelet in a pleasant sense of deja vu.
"As a matter of fact, I am," you respond, grinning and walking towards him. When you come nearer, he takes your hand and clasps the bracelet securely around your wrist for you before kissing your palm.
"Are you ready?" he asks you.
You nod, grabbing onto his arm as you leave your shared apartment to meet with the rest of his former crew for dinner.
It's been seven months since that fateful day. They managed to bring Taehyung behind bars with all the evidence they accumulated after months of investigating, but it was your detailed testimony that kept him locked and away. Geunsoo was honored in a tribute and was laid to rest. Finally, Taehyung's case and reign over the undercity finally came to an end.
Your testimony definitely helped with your involvement in the case and the accusations against you, but Jungkook and the guys also fought like hell for your innocence. In the end, it all worked out and you were finally free.
Free to live, free to love, and free to be with Jungkook.
Now, as you sit in the car with him on the driver's seat, you stare out the window and at the city lights.
The city is always beautiful any time of the day but for you, it's much more of a marvel at night. And as you stare at the blinking city lights before you, you think that things will finally be alright.
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COPYRIGHT 2023. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
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xpeachesncream · 3 years
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it takes two | one shot (myg)
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summary: min yoongi was the one who came to understand you and took you for you. but, when boundaries start getting crossed and priorities begin to change, you start to question if your relationship with your bestfriend is strong enough to make it through.
pairing: athlete!reader x athlete!myg
genre: bestfriends to lovers au, basketball au | fluff, angst, smut
words: 12.3k
warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, protected AND unprotected sex (later on), slight breast play, oral (f. receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, missionary, riding/straddling, mentions of alcohol consumption, dancing, mention of marijuana, sex on the beach kinda?, some heavy angst, insecurities, crying, injuries (like a cut/ankle sprain), yoongi is just kind of an idiot at one point
note: heavily inspired by the movie love and basketball. unedited for the most part, pls excuse any spelling/grammar errors.
tags: @ggukkieland​ @miinoongi​ @bluesharksandfish​ @unicornbabylover​
⏏︎ now playing: triggered - jhené aiko ; sorry enough - chris brown
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First Quarter: 6th Grade
You didn't really have a lot of friends in elementary school. Any, actually. Hell, the girls in your class purposely ignored you because you acted different. Dressed different. Enjoyed the shit boys liked, like playing ball and video games. You couldn't relate to their gel pens, Lisa Frank folders, cute binder stickers and bracelet charms. None of that shit was you. But you didn't care, you were fine by yourself. Nobody to please, nobody to care for.
The only person that came to understand you was Min Yoongi and that's because you played basketball with him and his friends during daycare. At first, it came as a surprise because truthfully, you felt like Yoongi only let you play because he felt bad for you. Which, okay, whatever— so be it. But, after the last round during a game of two versus two, you found yourself on the ground, huge gash on the knee from chasing after the ball before it could go out of bounds.
"Ouch! Crap!" You groaned as you sat up and checked out your knee. Yoongi walks towards you and crouches down, examining the bloody gash.
"Come on." He says, holding out a hand to help lift you up. He swings your arm over his shoulder, already knowing that any sudden movements to your knee can make the wound sting. He takes his time and walks with you as you hop on one leg towards the office, not really saying much. Yoongi wasn't the most talkative in class. He hung out with two or three other boys in your class on the daily, but they were quiet. Weren't much troublemakers, didn't cause ruckus like the other boys did. But, he was still popular among the girls because he was a little cutiepie. You remember walking into the bathroom, hearing Angie and her friends tease her about her crush on Yoongi. Then, the following week, one of her friends also ended up crushing on Yoongi and they bickered [weirdly] in the bathroom about it.
Getting to the office, he sits you down on the bench before approaching the office admin to grab some bandaids and ice for you.
"What can I do for you, Mr. Min?" Mrs. Yao comes over to greet him.
"Y/N's hurt. Can I get a bag of ice and a bandaid for her, please?" Mrs. Yao looks over her shoulder and does a head tilt before sighing. She knew you weren't like the girls in your class, always getting hurt one way or another, being more hardheaded and stubborn than the usual. She grabs a bag of ice and hands the supplies over to Yoongi before placing her hands on her hips.
"You think you can take care of Miss Y/N, or do you need me to help?" He shakes his head.
"I got it, thank you Mrs. Yao." He politely says, giving her a small toothless smile. You silently watch as he walks over, crouching down once again to tend to your wounds. "I don't think this will hurt, but stay still so I can put this bandaid on." He says softly as he spreads the small Neosporin packet across your wound. He wipes his finger down on his pants before removing the back of the bandaid and pressing it against your knee. "There. You should keep the ice on it so it doesn't bruise and stuff." He stands.
"Thank you." He nods as he watches you stand and slightly limp before you adjust your steps to the right pressure. He follows you out, coming back to your side with his hands in his pockets.
"Why don't you act like the other girls?" He asks, cocking an eyebrow at you.
"What? Not liking all the girly stuff that they like?"
"Sure, or you playing basketball. You know girls are usually like cheerleaders and cheer the guys on instead."
"Well, I don't wanna be a cheerleader. I just would rather play. What's wrong with it?"
"Nothing, it's just weird to see."
"You're weird." You snapped back.
"How am I weird?"
"You shoot weird."
"And you don't? I shoot better than you." He furrows his brows.
"No you don't."
"Fine, wanna play one more time? Unless you're a wuss and can't play cause of your knee." You rolled your eyes at the sudden change of events.
"I'll play you, I'm not a wuss. Unless you're afraid to lose to a girl." You taunt him as you both walk back to the court.
"Whatever, I'm not afraid cause I won't lose." He grabs the ball and checks it in. "My ball first."
"Sure, if you think that'll help."
And that's how Yoongi lost to you, busted knee and everything. From there, it was history. You became inseparable, Yoongi becoming a large part of your days and vice versa. His parents eventually became close to yours after the numerous times you both have been dropped off to hang out, or catching rides home after school. Yoongi lived in a nearby neighborhood, only being a good 7 minute walk, to be exact.
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Second Quarter: High School, Senior Year
In high school, it became a little different. Yoongi grew up, played varsity basketball and became a fucking jock even though he claimed he would never. Yeah, bullshit. You too, played on the girls varsity basketball team, and surprisingly, you two kept each other close. It was a blessing and a curse though, because you couldn't see your life without Yoongi. He's been there since the 6th grade. However, girls took note of that shit. Trying to use you as their way in to Yoongi's heart, or pants, or both. You made it very clear though that you weren't interested in being a fucking messenger. Girls thought you were mean, but really, they just couldn't handle you. Hence, why you really couldn't relate and be one of them.
Yoongi was still the only person who could understand you and handle you, bad attitude and all. Tomboy habits and all. Not wanting to make friends and all.
"Jesus fucking christ, the day just started." Yoongi says as he watches you toss your duffle bag and backpack aggressively in the back seat of his car. "What's your deal?"
"Nothing, I'm just tired." You slump in his passenger seat after buckling your seat belt.
"Chill, don't start your day like this."
"Whatever, dad." You rolled your eyes, causing him to let out a pathetic chuckle.
"Are you coming to my game later?"
"Yeah, if I'm not too tired from practice."
"Y/N, I always make it to your games even if I'm tired."
"Do you?"
"The fuck? Yes I do. When haven't I?" His tone raises with yours. "Don't try and justify your shit by coming up with lies."
"Yeah, yeah bighead. You'll have plenty of cheerleaders there for you."
"Yeah and?" He smirks. "You're the one I'll be looking for though." He caresses your chin, making you smack his hand away while he laughs loudly.
"You're stupid." You groan as you sink lower in his seat. The rest of the ride to school, you shut your eyes and enjoy the peace before you're having to walk down those annoying, congested hallways.
People rave a lot about senior year, but it honestly hasn't felt special to you. Maybe because you kept the same routine since freshmen year, or maybe you really just didn't care as much as everyone else did about how "special" it was. You've always been locked in to basketball even if your mom wasn't a big fan of it. She wished you were more into cute, girly shit, like makeup, shopping, manis and pedis and dresses and heels, but she came to accept this was the way it was going to be. Especially because your dad was your biggest fan. You came to love basketball, more than just a side hobby. You joined the varsity team and practiced day in and day out. When basketball wasn't in season, you'd play with Yoongi at the park or sign up for camps and tournaments. You just wanted to keep bettering yourself so that you could play in college and get into the league post-grad. Yoongi was the same, and he may or may not have influenced your passion for ball. Either way, he was always supporting you and cheering for you even if the other females hated it.
His ex for sure hated the relationship you had with him even though you really steered clear when she was around. Wasn't your fucking problem or responsibility to take care of her insecurities. Same with his flings.
"Hey, so later, yeah?" He asks in between throwing nods and smiles to girls passing by.
"Mhm." You hum. "You gonna be free for lunch later?"
"I don't know. I know where to find you though if I am."
"Have a good day, punk."
"You too, bub. See you in English." He turns on his heel, walking towards his friends, aka his team members. Aka his jock ass group. Aka the ones females flock to.
Namjoon, Jimin, Eunwoo, Lucas.
They were all pretty boys who knew they were pretty boys and used that to their advantage to make big asshole moves. You hated that Yoonks got pulled in from time to time, but shit, it wasn't your life, you were only a small part of his. Sometimes, they also pulled in the football boys, Jungkook and Seokjin. Even the baseball boys, Hoseok and Taehyung. It was all a huge pretty boy, jock, asshole group in the making outside. A big fucking party for a lot of the girls at school, though.
So even if Yoongi was really the only one in your life, you weren't the only one in his. It is, what it is. As long as he doesn't go switching up on you, then whatever, so be it.
The first half of your classes go by quick, being that you enjoyed your chemistry, french and english classes. You had your english class with Yoongi, Namjoon and Hoseok. You had gotten to know Namjoon and Hoseok a little through it, and it was enough to know that they weren't all that bad. At least in this classroom setting.
"You two going to prom together?" Namjoon asks, making Yoongi snort.
"No, what the hell?" Yoongi responds.
"You guys can have fun at prom." You roll your eyes.
"You're really not gonna go?" Joon bites on the end of his pencil.
"No? The fuck I look like?"
"Y/N, I know it'd be weird as fuck to see you in a dress, but it's senior year. You didn't go last year, did you?" Namjoon asks from Yoongi's other side.
"Really, Namjoon?" You give him a look as if it could state the obvious.
"Well shit, I don't know. I know it's not your thing but can't really say I would have noticed either way." Hoseok laughs, causing you to throw your pen at his head before flicking him off.
"Miss Y/N!" Mrs. Maxwell calls you out mid-movie, eyes wide and in disbelief at how you're acting.
"What?! He started it." You slumped back in your seat and let out a sigh.
"Not another word." She says sternly.
"Not another word." You mock her under your breath.
"Aye, stop. You and that attitude boutta get in some trouble the last weeks of senior year." Yoongi puts his hand on your wrist, causing you to shake your head and click your teeth.
"Anyway, you should go." Hoseok whispers as he leans over on the table to look at you.
"No. Besides, with what date?"
"Take the basketball." Joon snickers.
"You're a complete dumbass, Namjoon. Stop talking." You snap.
"Maybe they're right, bub. It's senior year and it's coming to an end quick. I'd hate for you to regret it." Yoongi turns to you and says lowly.
"You know that won't happen." But really, part of you did feel a little bad. You knew it wasn't your scene, and you really didn't care what people thought of you when it came down to it. However, you always wondered what it would be like if someone liked you. If someone wanted you. Crushed on you so hard that they couldn't keep their hands off of you, couldn't stop thinking of you. Your first love. To feel pleasure, pain. Mixture of emotions simply by being in love. You wondered what it would be like to lose your virginity and have good, good sex. Besides, you were a human with needs. But the only person you have ever been close to was Yoongi. For the most part, you didn't see him that way because you knew he definitely didn't. But, you also couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to take your relationship to that point. If it was anyone, he would be the one you'd have feelings for. He would be your first kiss, your first everything. Because Yoongi was comfort and security for you.
But you valued your friendship more than anything.
"Just saying, think about it." He follows up.
"Think about getting an expensive dress and painful ass heals to wear for one night, just to dance around in 'em and take one professional pic with a date? Maybe get railed if I'm lucky?" You playfully wiggle your eyebrows making Yoongi shake his head.
"Don't be such a party pooper for once."
"Mmm. Great reasoning. Really convincing me here." You laugh it off even though in all honesty, you were thinking about it.
The bell rings and thank god it's finally lunch because you were fucking starving. Appetite and attitude on na-na, no doubt. You silently part ways with Yoongi to stop by your locker and grab your lunch. You make your way to the rowdy ass cafeteria, quickly scanning the room to catch a sight of Yoongi. You see him sitting on top of one of the lunch tables with Hoseok, Namjoon, Jimin and Taehyung sitting around him. Clearly, Yoongi wasn't free today.
"Wassup baby? Wanna trade that ball in for me?" Jimin says as you pass by their table to make your way outside to the bleachers. You flick him off before rolling your eyes and pretending to gag.
"Fuck off, Park." The group laughs except for Yoongi.
"Wonder if she's got that bad attitude in bed, too." Yoongi doesn't hesitate to smack Jimin upside the head because yeah, no matter what, he was gonna protect you as much as possible. "Owwww, I'm just kidding Yoongi."
"Don't let me hear you say that shit around me ever again."
"Fuck, I'm sorry. It was just a joke." Jimin winces as he rubs the back of his head.
"Damn Min Yoonks, why don't you take her ass to prom if it's like that?" Taehyung says, chewed up food coming into full view as he smacks loudly.
"Why don't you learn how to close your mouth first?" Yoongi spits back.
"Y/N is really rubbing off on you."
"It's manners, idiot. You should've been learned that." Namjoon says, laughing.
"But foreel, why won't you take her? You both are close, you've never seen her that way?" Hoseok asks making Yoongi shake his head in response.
"She's my bestfriend. I value her just the way she is, no more no less."
"Ah, you must have thought about it at least once." Yoongi keeps silent. Luckily, the group easily gets distracted and starts paying attention to Seokjin and Jungkook coming over as they talk about the dates they've scored for prom.
Yoongi has thought about it. Still does. Just like he is for you, you're the only one who understands him and takes him for who he is. You know the real him besides basketball player Yoongi. You're the only one who keeps it real. But he would rather keep it this way than ruin things between you and him. He'd hate to fuck up with you because he knows he can fuck up, there's no hiding from it. He'd never forgive himself if he lost you.
Practice is hell today for you and fuck, you really wanna just go home and lay down for the rest of the evening. Coach had you all running suicides and conditioning drills on the courts outside and pulling scrimmages against each other left and right. Let's not forget how coach is always on your ass right before a game too. Hell, she catches an attitude way worse than you before game time and after a loss. You wanted to avoid that at all costs. But, to avoid taking the bus home and instead hitching a ride with Yoongi, you throw on a hoodie and haul your ass to the gym in some nike slippers. You take a seat on a free end at one of the bleachers, holding Spalding in between your legs with your duffle next to you on the floor. The game is off to a start in about 5 minutes, Yoongi catches sight of you on the bleachers and nods. You give him a small smile as a gesture of good luck, which he reciprocates.
The game starts off intensely, both teams scoring closely even with the boys putting straight pressure. Towards the end of the first half, Yoongi and Eunwoo are the leading scorers, putting their team up by 10. Halftime is a bunch of hoo-haa, with cheerleaders in their itty bitty skirts, trying to shake their asses as they cheer for the boys. The boys don't even hide the fact that their ogling, and it's clear as day they all want some pussy. Quite frankly, they walk around thinking they deserve it cause of how hard they try to pull some wins and put the school on the map. Student government comes up for a bit too, pulling some kind of skit to weirdly promote prom. It makes you cringe and in all honesty, it makes you not wanna go even more, but it is your senior year. If you can snag a date, then maybe.
"Hey." Terra [not a cheerleader but still a pretty, popular chick] plops next to you with a smirk on her face. Immediately, you want no part in it because you already know what she's trying to do.
"Hi?"
"I'm just gonna cut straight to it. Do you know if Yoongi is seeing anyone?"
"How the hell would I know, Terra?" You furrow your brows at her.
"Because you're close to him, aren't you?"
"And? Doesn't mean I'm telling people his business. Besides, he's not obligated to tell me everything just cause we're close." She rolls her eyes.
"Whatever. Look, can you do me a favor and give this to him?" She tries handing you a little ass piece of paper folded neatly with a pink heart decorated on the front.
"Why don't you give it to him yourself?"
"That's no fun." You scoff and roll your eyes. Really, miss girl? "Be a doll for once, yeah?" She winks and slips the note in between your wrist and Spalding so it stays put. You take the note and eye it, letting out a deep sigh as you shove it into your pocket. You weren't in the mood to be extra rude today so you'll give it to him later when he drives you home.
The game finally finishes with Yoongi making a final three, the boys keeping their lead up by 10. Everyone cheers and showers the boys with love after the team has finished shaking hands and high-fiving their opponents. You stick around until the crowd dies down, watching Yoongi flirt with Terra as you swing your duffle bag strap onto your shoulder before slowly heading down the bleachers.
"Hey bighead, good game today." You lightly punch him against the chest.
"I knew you'd come."
"Shut up. I'll be at your car."
"For what?"
"Cause you're taking me home, punk."
"No please?"
"Please." He shakes his head and chuckles before you part ways to let him gather his things in the locker room. When you finally catch sight of his teeny head coming towards you from the gym, you hear him unlock his car to let you in while he continues to walk over.
"Fuuuuuck." He says, throwing his things in the back before buckling his seat belt and switching the gear into drive.
"You have fan mail." Yoongi looks over and sees you clutching the note Terra gave you.
"What's that, a condom?"
"You're sick. It's from Terra."
"Who's that again?" You make a face at him.
"You were just telling her sweet nothings earlier after the game?"
"Oh, Terra with the tig o' bitties. Got it." He shakes his head. "I wasn't telling her sweet nothings."
"Right. You're an absolute dipshit, you know?" You prop up a leg on the seat while you unfold the letter.
"Give it!" You move it away from his grasp and begin to read it out loud.
"Yoongi, you're honestly so hot. If you don't have a date for prom, I just want you to know that I'm free, and I promise I'll give you a good time if you take me." You cackle. "Boy, what the fuck is this? Ew."
"Shut up." He blushes before laughing along with you.
"Look at her, writing her coochie out on paper."
"She isn't."
"Oh, really? Pfft." You softly scoff. "So, are you taking her or what?"
"I don't know? Maybe, damn. What about you?"
"What about me, fool? I told you I'd think about it."
"Go with Jimin. He still doesn't have a date." He hates to say it with how much of an asshole Jimin can be, but if it meant you'd be at your senior prom then Yoongi will let it pass. He'll make sure Jimin doesn't try any slick shit.
"Ew, god no."
"Look, I'll make sure he doesn't go overboard. I promise."
"Why do you want me there so badly, Yoongi?"
"Because it's our last year in high school together and I'd really like to celebrate with you somehow." You sigh heavily.
"Fair enough. Let me sit on it."
"Better hurry and stop keeping that seat warm."
"Don't rush me." You punch his arm, causing a groan to erupt from him.
- - -
Really, you'd rather be anywhere than at prom with Park Jimin holding onto your waist the way he is for the pictures you're taking with him, Yoongi and the rest of their group and dates. After all the pictures and fake smiles, you feel him slowly slip his hand down your dress to try and get a grip on your ass, but before you could do so, you're grabbing his wrist with full pressure and making him wince.
"Don't you fucking dare or else I'll cut your dick off and throw it in a blender."
"Aish, ah, fuck! Okay, I'm kidding, let me go!" He whines lowly. You let go of his wrist after one more good squeeze, causing him to wiggle his hand to get the feeling back.
"Get me some punch, will you? My mouth is dry."
"You know, I might know something else that can help." Jimin wiggles his eyebrows as he continues to hold onto his wrist.
"You have got to be fucking kidding me."
"Or not. I'll be back." He accepts defeat by smiling from ear to ear before walking off. You sit off to the side, the heels a huge pain in the ass on top of Jimin already being a huge pain in the ass. You lean over on your knees, completely forgetting you have a short dress on, causing boys passing by to whistle and eye at the easy access.
"The fuck are you looking at? Keep it moving." Yoongi says pushing the guys forward before shooting you a look. "Y/N, really?"
"Shit sorry, I forgot. I'm not used to this." You sit up and adjust your dress before rubbing your arms at how self-conscious you suddenly [and unexpectedly] feel.
"Are you having fun at least?" He sits next to you, manspreading on the seat in the navy suit he has on.
"Mmm, sure." You slightly smile at him. "What about you? You actually took Terra, huh?"
"Yeah, it's pretty fun." He chuckles. "Don't lie, I saw you dancing a bit earlier."
"That's when the alcohol hadn't worn off yet." You snort, remembering Seokjin's older brother giving the group alcohol after all the parents were done taking their pictures of you all. Yoongi laughs along with you before he looks over and simply stares at you, hair all done, makeup done perfectly without it being too much. You in a dress.
"You look beautiful tonight, bub."
"You don't look too bad yourself, bubby." You blush before Jimin interrupts the moment with your cup of punch.
"Here, princess."
"You better not be trying anything slick, punkass." Yoongi says.
"Mm, don't worry. I haven't been able to." You kick his shin as you chug your punch, causing him to cough and choke on his own words. "I'd like to peacefully have this slow dance with you at least, damn." You swallow the last bits of punch before you're taking Jimin's hand to the floor. Yoongi watches as you two make your way to the dance floor for a slow dance, slightly regretting that he didn't just ask you to dance.
"Let's dance, babe." Terra's baby voice comes out as she pulls him up from the seat to find a spot on the dance floor. Yoongi is honestly tired of having to keep up with Terra's energy and her clingy ass, but nonetheless, he was happy you were around for prom.
He was really happy you were around for prom, even though you hated this shit more than anything.
He had you in full view ahead, and so did you. He couldn't help but direct his attention towards you and keep his eyes on you. Fuck, he has never seen anyone so beautiful until you walked through Seokjin's doors with Jimin. Look, let's get this straight. Even though you had your own way of expressing yourself, he always loved your natural beauty, your natural glow. He loved watching you on the court and how happy it made you to play ball. He remembers every accomplishment, every milestone you've reached. How you've grown tremendously as a ball player. He would never admit it to you in person, but he definitely admires how you push yourself and how you always do what you can to improve. Hell, you might just be the better player between the both of you. And when you catch him looking over, he doesn't even try and hide it. He doesn't even care that he's still holding onto Terra and slow dancing with her.
Something within you flips. You feel that shit in the pit of your stomach, at the heat of your core.
But, you brush it off and break eye contact first, even if he doesn't stop staring. This couldn't happen, no. This was your bestfriend. You weren't gonna let the things you felt get in the way of that.
Nope.
Suddenly, the song changes to something more upbeat and twerkable, Jimin taking the opportunity to spin you around and grind on you. You really need a distraction anyway, something to rid you of those god awful thoughts about your bestfriend, so you let him and you have fun with it. Everyone around you is having fun anyway, and fuck, you wouldn't have to do this ever again so fuck it.
"Let me get a dance with my bestfriend." Yoongi says to Jimin.
"Go dance with your date!"
"Shut up and switch for a second!" Yoongi says, pushing him off of you so he could get behind and dance with you.
"Yoonks, what the hell?" You laugh.
"Go with it, bub. It's fucking senior year, we're graduating soon." You go with his movements, having the time of your life with everyone around you as prom quickly comes to a close.
When you get into Jimin's car, you knock off your heels as he continues to talk nonstop about the night. Jimin was a cutie but god, you could not stand his mindset for the life of you. You were grateful he had agreed to take you to prom, but damn. Prom was done and all you wanted was some peace and quiet.
"I hope you had fun with me tonight." You give him a toothless smile before slipping your heels back on.
"I did, thank you for taking me. Really." He smiles from ear to ear before leaning over near your seat.
"Can I get just one good smooch for the night?" You look at him before you smirk and lean over near his lips.
"Sure." You whisper.
"Oh fuck, this is actually happening."
"Close your eyes, I know you don't fucking kiss with your eyes open. What are you doing?"
"Right. Sorry." He closes his eyes and puckers his lips. You lean in a little closer, feeling his breath against your lips.
Then you flick his nose.
"Ouch!"
"Peace out, Park." You throw open his door to step out and shut it behind you to quietly walk into your house.
The lights are off and your parents are already tucked into the room for the night, leaving you a note on the fridge reminding you to make sure all the doors are locked before retreating to your room. You do as you're reminded before quietly shutting your door and tossing your heels to the side. You let the pins down from your hair, ruffling it around a bit and relieving any pressure on your head. Before turning away from your dresser, you notice a letter from the one university you had been waiting on. You had been waiting to hear back from Stanford for the longest time, and quite frankly, you had been upset you hadn't heard especially when their scouts were at your game awhile ago.
You had broken down to your parents, to Yoongi, automatically assuming the worst when you heard that other people had already been accepted and scouted for Stanford. Suddenly, you found yourself working harder and harder because you felt like you were lacking in so many areas. You felt low, and like your dream was running miles and miles away from you. Faster than you could keep up.
You take the letter in your hand, but don't want to open it because you don't feel ballsy enough [surprisingly]. You call up Yoongi, not caring that he could possibly be in the middle of getting his dick wet.
"Sup?"
"Are you busy?"
"I was just about to walk into my house."
"Oh, nevermind."
"Need me to come by?"
"I got a letter from Stanford."
"Shit, I'll be there in 2 mins."
And in 2 minutes, he surely was knocking at your window. You slide it up enough for him to climb in, Yoongi still in his prom get-up as well.
"Here." You instantly hand him the letter.
"What, why me? It should be you."
"I can't, I really can't." He sighs.
"Are you sure you won't regret this?"
"No, bub. Please." You sit on the bed and fiddle with your fingers as you watch him rip the envelope open and tear out the letter. You can't even keep your eyes on him as he reads the letter and starts backing away from you.
"Shit."
"What? What?!" You stand, trying your best to keep your tone low. He covers his mouth, causing you to pinch his bicep at how dramatic he was being. "Just say it!"
"You're not going." Your heart sinks, but before you could process it, Yoongi speaks up again. "To any other college because Stanford wants you."
"I'm going to fucking kill you!" You whisper and shove him.
"Congrats, bubby. Guess we'll be together in college too." Your eyes widen.
"Y-you're going? T-to Stanford?" He smiles and nods.
"Yeah, I am."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Look, I just wanted to give you your space. That's all. I found out before you went all cry baby on me."
"Shut up." You say before laughing and jumping into his arms, throwing your legs around his torso while he swings you around. As he sets you back down onto your bedroom floor, your hands linger around his neck, gently tugging on the hair that rested there. He keeps you close, his hands resting around your waist as your chests are still touching. You honestly have no idea what takes over you— perhaps all the feelings you felt tonight at prom taking over, or feeling overjoyed from finally hearing back from Stanford, you couldn't decide. But you crash your lips against his, immediately pulling back after you realized you've just kissed your bestfriend.
You just had your first fucking kiss through accidental causes.
Well, shit.
Was it accidental or no?
Mind is going off on a tangent.
"Woah. I'm so sorry, Yoonks, I—" He doesn't allow for any space between you two, keeping your body flush against his as his lips crash onto yours again to cut you off. To be quite honest, things are moving fast and the kiss deepens quick. You follow his motions, gaining some rhythm as your tongue dances along with his in the [now] wet, sloppy kiss.
"Wait, Y/N." He pulls away as the moment intensifies. "A-are you sure you wanna keep going? To be honest, I don't know if I'll be able to hold myself back and I know you haven't exactly—" He knows it would be your first time and he wasn't sure how he felt about it. I mean, sure, he loved you. You were special to him. But he wanted to make sure your first time was also special, whether it be him or whoever else.
"Please. I want this. I wanna do this with you."
By the looks of tonight, it seems like it's meant to be him.
You press your lips back onto his with the same intensity and start to unbutton his shirt when you feel his hands hike up your dress. He gently pushes you on the bed, crawling over to you as he kicks off his shoes and finishes ripping off his shirt and tie. He slowly removes the straps of your dress down your shoulders and undoes the zipper on the side before slipping it down and leave you in your panties.
You had no bra on.
Yoongi's eyes widen when he realizes such, your cheeks heating up while you watch him stare down your body. You begin to feel incredibly self-conscious so you cover your chest with an arm. Yoongi senses your uneasiness, your confidence shooting down below zero.
"You're beautiful, bub. Don't." He says, gently tugging your arm away and letting it fall limply to the side. You simply nod and let him take the reigns because you had no idea what the fuck you were doing. So many emotions were flooding your mind— you were nervous, you were scared, you were shy, you felt lost and too innocent under Yoongi, even if he knew you like the back of his hand.
And because of that, he could pick up on it with the way your body continued to tense up. He shook off his pants, leaving on his boxers until you were ready for him. Cause fuck, he was ready for you, but he had to take this slow. He had to take care of you.
He lowers himself onto you after the two of you have climbed under the sheets, lowering his head against your neck to press light, feathery kisses along the surface. You felt the tingles shoot down your spine every time his lips made contact, causing you to softly gasp and arch your back at how sensitive you were already feeling.
"If you ever feel uncomfortable, just tell me to stop okay?" He says lowly. You nod in response, Yoongi taking it as leverage to plant a kiss on your lips before moving down to your breasts. He keeps his eyes on you, making sure you don't seem uncomfortable in the slightest bit. But you don't, and it's indicated in the way you bite your bottom lip and arch your back at the way his tongue wraps around your hardened bud. He does the same on the other breast before peppering kisses down your stomach and abdomen.
"Yoongi." You slightly gasp, shy at how unusually close he is to your lady friend.
"What's wrong? Want me to stop?" His thumbs gently caressed your thighs as his head hovered over your pelvis. You shake your head and nervously swallow before speaking once more.
"I-I'm just scared, what if you don't like—"
"Shh." He shushes you. "You're everything to me, you know that. You don't have to change just so I could enjoy you in bed. I'll take good care of you, bub. I promise."
"O-okay." He nods, placing a kiss over your clothed clit before pulling them down to get lost within your sheets. He swipes a finger down your folds, causing your breathing to hitch slightly. You watch as he slowly inserts the same digit inside of you, biting onto his bottom lip watching your facial expressions turn from uncertainty to straight pleasure. "Another." You moan.
"You sure?"
"Yes, please." He inserts another digit, curling his fingers upward as he starts to finger fuck you at a steady pace.
"Shit, you're so wet Y/N." He says lowly before lowering his mouth onto you to get a taste and tease your clit. You gasp at the overwhelming sensation, feeling the pleasure bubbling in your core and you had no idea how to deal with it. He picks up his pace while tonguing your clit and sucking at the right pressure until suddenly, you short circuit and tremble under his grip. You purse your lips together to prevent yourself from moaning too loud with your parents at the other end of the hall [jesus fucking christ], knuckles turning white as you grip the sheets tightly.
Your first orgasm came and washed over you quick.
"Did you just—" He removes his digits from inside of you, drooling at your cum accumulating all over his fingers.
"Holy fuck." You whisper as you regulate your breathing, twitching when Yoongi places a quick kiss on your pussy before coming back up to you.
"How was that?"
"So good. Wanna feel you." You whine, tugging him down towards you.
"I got you, bubby." He says, kissing your jaw, cheek, nose and lips. He reaches over into his pants on the floor, grabbing a condom out of his pocket. You furrow your brow and chuckle, confused if this was something he always did.
"You just carry that around?"
"The guys and I split on a box and carried one each for tonight. Just in case."
"Total fucking assholes." He chuckles.
"Better safe than not, right?" He rips it open with his teeth, spitting the wrapper out onto the floor before rolling it down his cock. He was perfectly thick and long, and it made you a nervous wreck all over again thinking about how this could feel. "Ready? I'll go slow." You nod. You immediately felt immense pressure when you felt Yoongi dip his body and slowly enter you. You winced, Yoongi immediately pausing until you tapped his arm to continue. And so he does, and you continue to breathe through it until he bottoms out and lets out a soft groan against your neck. "Fuck, you're so tight bub. God, you're gonna make me cum quick." He slowly pumps in and out, steadying his pace when he feels you buck your hips up to go along with his motions.
The pleasure skyrocketed; You shut your eyes, letting yourself be in this moment. Feel this moment.
He picks it up a little faster, careful not to bang your headboard against the wall. His forehead is pressed against yours, watching as you let out soft whimpers against his lips.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck. Yoongi-Yoongi—" You whispered. "You're gonna make me—" It was becoming overwhelming, your clit rubbing against him as he steadied his pace and continued to fuck into you. He nods, pressing a kiss against your forehead.
"Yeah, that's it. Let go. It's okay." And that was enough for you to reach your second orgasm tonight. Quick, but fuck. Yoongi made you feel so good, and you wouldn't want it any other way. You shut your eyes as you hurdled over the edge, mouth open with silent, inaudible moans being released. "So fucking pretty." Yoongi says as he feels himself reaching his high with the way your walls pulsated against his cock.
God. So, so good.
He holds onto the headboard and quickly fucks into you until he's spilling his seed in the condom, muffled moans being released against the crook of your neck. It takes a moment before Yoongi raises his head, your hands running through his black hair while he presses a tender kiss against your lips. He slowly removes himself, wrapping the condom in a tissue before tossing it into your trash can. He plops next to you and welcomes you into his arms, caressing you to soothe you from your first time.
"You okay?"
"More than okay." You say, the both of you trying to savor the moment before trying to navigate where to go from here.
What now?
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Third Quarter: College, Junior Year (Present)
You bent down, hands resting against your knees as you tried to catch your breath during the timeout Coach Chu had called with 5.2 seconds literally left on the clock. He laid out the play he wanted you and the team to pull off in order to gain the win over Berkeley.
It had to be executed perfectly. No flaws.
Coach Chu had been riding your ass since you were a freshman. But, over the years, you've learned how to work through his tough love and turn it into positives, bettering yourself on and off the floor. It paid off, and he saw the fire in you, finally moving you up to starting point guard right before the season ended. Some team members hated it at first, but eventually, grew to work with it as well.
The plan was to have you come down into the paint and lay up the ball or take a shot at the very last second to avoid Berkeley from getting another chance at scoring. Sometimes you hated the pressure, but you've also learned that a big part of playing ball was thriving under pressure.
Your team closes up the huddle before you and your teammates are heading back out onto the floor to try and get this win. You shake off the nerves, bouncing the ball out of bounds until you check it in with your teammate. After that— it was like a blur. Shit happened so quick, you couldn't even process it. You passed the ball and dashed over to the other side of the court while your teammate put up a screen. You rose your hand as you ran into the paint, adrenaline rushing through your veins as you awkwardly lay up the ball in the position you were in and stumble onto the ground from losing your footing. You turn your head as the buzzer went off, noticing that the ball had bounced off the rim.
You missed a fucking lay up.
How could you miss a fucking lay up?
"Fuck!" You cry as you sit up and smack the floor.
"Aye, it's all good girl! Ain't a big deal! You win some, you lose some! We still got a ways to go!" Your teammate [roommate, and closest college friend] Clarice said as she helped you up. She was right, but every loss to you was a big loss no matter what. Coach was for sure gonna drill you about this too, and you were already mentally preparing.
"Thanks." You mumble. You look out at the disappointed crowd slowly dispersing, wishing you could still catch a familiar face in the crowd.
But, Yoongi hadn't been to your game in years. So you thought. You never caught him if he ever stepped foot into your game.
Your head hung low as the familiar feeling of pain and loneliness came rushing back while you headed to the locker room. Too bad you didn't see him hiding out on the side of the bleachers with Lucas.
"Y/N, a word." Coach Chu says, leading you into his office.
Fuck, here we go.
You shut the door behind you and stand awkwardly in front of his desk, fiddling with your fingers.
"Look, I just want to say that you put on hell of a show tonight, win or lose. We still have plenty of games left, plenty of opportunities to lock in play-offs. Alright? Don't be upset."
"Thanks Coach." You give him a tiny smile.
"Are you doing okay?"
"Uh, yeah. I think so."
"What's on your mind?"
"Nothing coach, just been a hectic couple of weeks." In which, it was no lie. You crammed for test after test, project after project. You barely had any time to breathe this year.
"Well, my door is always open if you need to chat." You nod. "I'll see you at practice. Enjoy your night."
"Thanks again." You say as you exit his office and get yourself showered and into comfier clothes.
Meanwhile, Yoongi heads back to his dorm room alongside Lucas, hands dug deep into his pockets while his head hung low.
"You ever gonna talk to her?"
"I don't know." He sighs. "Pretty sure I fucked up any chance of that."
"Look, dude. You haven't really been the same since you and Y/N fell out." Yoongi stays silent as they slowly climb the steps up to their room. "Why are you just gonna leave it like this? It's been so long already. Doesn't it bother you?"
"Positive she doesn't want me around." Lucas shakes his head.
"You haven't even tried. You just gave up and that shit is cold, to be honest. I know Y/N always held it down for you, I would have expected you to do the same." The words cut through Yoongi so deep, he doesn't even know how to respond and leaves it at that.
As you heavily dragged your body back to the dorms and took your sweet ol' time, your mind began to wander back to Yoongi as well. After he had taken your virginity that night, things took a turn for the worst.
He treated you differently, created this distance that allowed you to grow farther and farther apart from each other until he was no longer in your grasp and vice versa.
You went from Yoongi being a part of your every day to nothing. And fuck, did it hurt you. You cried and cried, until you were so tired of crying. You had to pick yourself up and keep it moving no matter what. Life waits for nobody.
You reminisce on those days of debating over who could really be considered the greatest. Although, you did pay your respects to the bigs, the greats— Kobe, Magic, MJ, Lebron— you paid respect where it was rightfully due. However, Derrick Rose at his prime? Rajon Rondo? Chris Paul?
Hell, even Baron Davis, Monte Ellis. Rookie Steph Curry? Shiiit. They were it for you, and Yoongi used to dog your ass on how unrealistic you were being.
That was all gone.
He must be having a ball watching Steph climb up those charts now, though. You wonder what he would say to you.
The days of going to basketball games, to each other's basketball games, to ordering hella pizza and creating chaos in either house over the dunk contest during the NBA All Star Week or yelling all around the living room and jumping on couches during the NBA playoff season and championship games— All gone.
If you knew this would drastically change you and Yoongi, you would have never let that night happen. You continued to put on your brave face, your thick, tough skin even though deep down, it took everything in you to suppress the hurt, betrayal and confusion. Even after all these years.
He meant everything to you. Did you not to him? You could never understand until this day. How could he dispose of you so, so quickly?
You see him on campus and quickly break any eye contact, or run the opposite way. You were tired of doing this even though you felt like you needed closure. Some explanation. You deserved it. But you weren't gonna initiate that. Even if Yoongi did, you don't even know if things could ever go back to the way it was. He promised he would never hurt you, but he has. He still is hurting you. The wounds— it cut deep. Deeper than he could ever imagine.
"Hello?" You smile, hearing your dad on the other line.
"Hey dad."
"Hey baby! How was your game? I'm sorry I couldn't catch it tonight, work kept me behind." You sigh.
"Eh, it's probably good you didn't. Didn't turn out so well." He picks up on how your voice cracks ever so slightly, enough to indicate that you were trying your hardest not to break down about your performance. "I missed the winning shot."
"Oh sweetheart, you'll get 'em next time. You always do. You still have a couple of games left don't you?"
"Yeah, but it doesn't change the fact that I played shitty as hell tonight."
"There's always room for improvement, only way to go is up from here right?" He says softly, making you smile. "You'll get 'em next time, I have no doubt. You always know how to better yourself even when I think you've already reached your highest potential."
"Thanks Dad. You always were my number one fan."
"I still am." He chuckles. "How's everything else? School?"
"Fine." He always has to stop himself from asking about Yoongi, even to ask if there's been the slightest change to your relationship.
"You sure?"
"Course." You lie.
"Alright, well you know me and your mom are here for you if you need anything."
"I know."
"I'll let you go and get some rest, alright? Don't be so hard on yourself."
"Mmm, I'll try." You chuckle. "I love you."
"Love you too. And hey, baby?"
"Yeah?"
"Always remember that you deserve everything good in this world. If someone can't handle you at your worse, they sure as hell don't deserve you at your best."
"Thank you." You smile as if your dad can see you through the phone before hanging up and unlocking your dorm door.
"Sigma Nu party going on tonight, wanna come and slide through?" Clarice asks as she watches you toss your duffle aside.
"I'm tired, not in the mood."
"So aren't I, but I think we both need it. Come on girl, just for a little." You sigh. Clarice had also been there by your side since you both were freshmen recruits. One day, she came into the room and found you a crying mess, causing her to wrap her arms around you and craddle you until you calmed down. You had spilled the beans about Min Yoongi, especially when he quickly became the talk of the campus as a ladies man and one of the best freshmen recruits Stanford has ever seen. You hated it, but a part of you still found yourself happy that he was getting the recognition he deserved as a ball player.
He wasn't the tallest, or the biggest, but boy had heart and played every game like it was his last. You had been his number one fan, and even though you hated him, that fact would never change.
Anyways, without Clarice, you weren't sure where you'd be. Definitely not here because you'd be too busy running away from your past and all the issues that came with it.
Yeah, yeah. Go ahead and say it. You would be stupid enough to not go to your first choice just because of a stupid boy.
"Fine, fine. I'm leaving as soon as someone wants to start acting up and getting all crazy though."
"Deal." She chuckles. You've learned how to dress up a little more— and by a little we mean baggy sweats, a crop tight fitting tee and chapstick. No way in hell you'd get dolled up for a party. Out of the years you've already been here, you probably went to two parties. One being the party Coach Chu threw at his house for a record-breaking season. The other was a legit party that you stepped foot in for all of 2 seconds before you figured it was time to head home, especially after seeing Yoongi hugged up with some chick and disgustingly tonguing her down while groping her ass.
Shit, you were never gonna get used to it.
The frat house is fucking packed and wreaks of weed even down the corner. You and Clarice push your way through, greeting people who were acknowledging your presence and waving at your other teammates that were also present.
"More basketball babes have arrived, let's go!" One of the frat guys cheers as you and Clarice make your way to the kitchen where all the alcohol is laid out.
"One shot?" She asks as she already has her hand wrapped around the Svedka handle.
"One and done." You tell her. You shouldn't have let her pour the shot though because now, you're stuck with nasty ass vodka near the halfway mark of the cup. "Clarice, what the fuck is this?"
"It's called savoring our one."
"You're fucked up." You joked as you tap your cup against hers and take the shot in three chugs. "Really fucked up." You wince.
"Come, lets go see what the other girls are up to and hang out for a bit." You follow her lead to the corner of the living room, chatting it up with your team before dancing around in the little corner you all occupied— keeping as far away as possible from sloppy and messy dudes.
You turned to eye the crowd at some point, catching Yoongi coming down the stairs, a female following from behind holding his hand. Then, they disappear to the outside of the house. You swallow the lump in your throat, the room feeling hotter than it already was.
Why he still had this affect on you, you had no idea.
Clarice and your teammates are too busy cracking jokes that they don't realize you've slipped away to get some air. You're finding that the crowd has come bigger in the short amount of time you've been here and navigating through it has become difficult. You're having to bob, weave and shove your way out, letting out a sigh the closer you get to the front of the house. You're also really glad you've been able to steer clear from—
"Shit, my bad." You unintentionally bump into someone making your way to the front from the side of the house due to you keeping your head low.
"Y/N?" You whip your head around to see Yoongi raising a brow, dropping his arm from the same chick's shoulders.
"Hi." You give him a fake, tight-lipped smile and rush your way to the front of the house. Thank god you finally make it because you were starting to feel claustrophobic, even being outside. However, you weren't prepared for Yoongi to come after you and grab your wrist the way he did.
"Wait, I didn't expect you to be here." Out of defense, you quickly snatch your wrist away from his grip and furrow your brows at him.
"Yeah, and now I'm leaving."
"Why, hang out for a bit—"
"And what, Yoongi? Watch you be the life of the party? Watch you walk around all fine and dandy like shit never happened between us?" You feel the tears welling up on your bottom lids, but you promised yourself you would never cry over him again. You refuse to. He had already taken up so much of you that you refuse to give him any more.
"Is that what you really think?" He says, the hurt apparent in his expression. To be frank, no. Yoongi really, really never meant to hurt you. And just like he had mentioned before, he would never forgive himself if he ever hurt you. He hasn't forgiven himself. He hasn't forgiven himself for how he let you slip out of his grasp when it was his own fault for pushing aside his feelings for you. He thought the world of you, the only woman who kept it real with him and stuck by him through the highest of highs, lowest of lows. There was no one as special as you, no one who could ever be as special as you, no matter how many times he tried to sink his dick into other females.
No one was real like you.
But, he was also conflicted because of that. He felt like he couldn't give you the love you rightfully deserved, he didn't think he could love you properly. He had so much to learn and he didn't wanna hurt you in the process. It sounds so fucking stupid [because it is] that he thought distancing himself was better than just being honest. He was a dumbass high schooler, he didn't know any better. But, he never meant to make you feel special for one night, then run from it. You were always special to him. You had always been. You always will be. And these past years hurt like a bitch, but he coudn't find the words to explain. Eventually, he just believed he would do less damage if you both remained distant this way.
Although, he longed for you. He really needed you just as you needed him. He always has, always will.
So when the two of you bump into each other tonight, he felt like maybe, it was a sign. Maybe it was time to stop being childish.
God, he missed your face.
God, he was a fucking asshole.
"No, I'm not doing this shit." You shake your head. "Just— continue to stay away from me, okay? I'm better off without you." The words sting you, but it doesn't sting you as much as it stings Yoongi. You glare at him once more before you turn on your heel and begin walking down the street to head back to your dorm.
"Y/N! Wait up!" Clarice calls for you, eyeing Yoongi as she passes him to catch up with you down the street. "Hey, hey. You okay?" She swings her arm around you when she catches you silently crying to yourself. "What did he do, Y/N?"
"He fucking exists, that's what." You groan. "Ugh, fuck! I'm not supposed to be crying over his dumbass, I'm better than this Clarice— Why the fuck am I crying over it?" You break down, crouching down to your knees, causing Clarice to hover over you and pull you into a hug.
"Maybe you just need to let it out and stop forcing yourself to not feel anything."
"I hate him, I hate him, I hate him." You bawled into your arms. "I hate him so much." She caressed your back. "But he still finds a way to mean so much to me."
"I think it's time for you two to talk."
"I can't. It's just better this way."
"Are you sure? Because look at you, Y/N. You're a mess, and this hasn't even been the first time you broke down about him. As much as you want to believe that you're fine without him, you're not. He was your bestfriend and I think you need him more than you even know yourself."
"He's doing fine without me."
"You don't know that, baby. Dudes are annoying as fuck because they can literally go on about their day and mask that shit well. If he's ready, let him explain. Hear him out. You both may be misunderstanding the entire situation." It takes you a good minute before you can finally gather yourself and make it back to your dorm room with Clarice.
She was right.
But you were so angry more than anything. You were angry and you weren't sure how you could get past it.
He left your side. 
And so the next day, you go about your day in class, staying quieter than usual during practice. For the most part, Coach Chu was always on your ass because of how vocal you were and how much you caught an attitude when things didn’t go the way you'd like it to. So, to see you this quiet, almost sullen even, concerns him. But, he already pressed you once and he wasn't gonna do it again to avoid irritating you any further.
You run the usual conditioning drills, practicing play by play before a final scrimmage game for the night. You push yourself hard like you always do, almost coming out of practice dry heaving from how tired you are. It was your bad habit though, you wouldn't quit until you got it right. Until you felt right. And unfortunately, it's another one of those nights where you feel unsatisfied with your performance. So, you take it upon yourself to continue practicing in the empty gym that was set to close within the next hour. You're tired out of your mind, and you know this is probably a bad idea, but you can't shake off the feeling of dissatisfaction. To you, that was the next worst thing. Right behind Yoongi.
You begin to work on your three pointers, lay ups and shots out of range before you start to play a scrimmage game with yourself.
"I'll play you." You suddenly hear, the sweat beads dripping down your forehead at this point. You watch Yoongi as he drops his water bottle off at the side of the court before walking over to you.
"Go away."
"Afraid you'll lose?"
"No, I just don't wanna play your ass." You shot up the ball, only for it to bounce off the backboard and land in Yoongi's hand.
"Ball up. Let's play till 10."
"Why the hell do you wanna play me, Yoongi? Don't you have a random chick to bone?"
"I'm clearly standing right in front of you aren't I? Quit fucking talking and play." He aggressively passes you the ball to check it in, you following suit, making the ball damn near bounce off of his chest with how hard you pass it back. He knew exactly how to rile you up.
You get into the zone quickly, trying to find some kind of redemption for the way you had been feeling lately. Redemption, validation, way to take the edge off— anything, really. It was only until the first person scored to 10, but Yoongi was putting up one hell of a fight, jet black hair parted down the middle and matted to his forehead from the sweat building up. You take the lead, sitting at 8 while Yoongi sat at a sad 6 points.
"Ball." You call out as you scored a layup, ramming yourself against the padded wall with the force you had put up.
"That's 10."
"Ball, Yoongi." You huffed and puffed.
"Stop, don't overwork yourself. You just got—"
"Suddenly you care? Stop being a pussy and pass me the goddamn ball." He furrows his brows as he passes you the ball, crouching down to meet you at eye level to try and guard you. You run towards the right of the court, pulling a pump fake before you pivot to get away from Yoongi's guard. You pivot hard and drive it up to the basket, only to fall on the wrong footing and twist your ankle on the way down. "Ouch, fuck!"
"Shit, Y/N!" Yoongi comes to your side, hand supporting your back as the other is on your ankle.
"I'm fine, leave me—"
"Stop being so fucking stubborn and let me help you." He says angrily. You don't say anything else while you fix your position on the floor. "Can you wiggle it at least?"
"Y-yeah." You wince as you wiggle your foot and roll it around a couple of times. Phew, at least this shit wasn't gone for good. But Coach Chu still wouldn't be happy to hear you sprained your ankle releasing your anger on Yoongi during a dumb game. Yoongi helps you stand, arm around your waist as he throws your arm around his neck and holds you steady by the wrist.
"Try walking on it."
"I can, but it hurts a little." Yoongi sighs.
"You just sprained it. Let's go get you some ice or something at the nursing center before going back to your dorm." You silently nod as you hang onto Yoongi for extra support, careful not to make the situation any worse than it already is. He has you sit on the chair within the nursing center, the nurse coming over to wrap your ankle nicely before giving you crutches and some instant hot compress to pop onto it. She orders for security to drive you two over to the dorm building in their go-cart so that you wouldn't have to do much walking on your foot while you focused on healing.
Yoongi doesn't leave your side, even after you've walked into your dark, empty dorm room, not really knowing where Clarice is at right now [possibly library]. He shuts your door and sits you on the edge of your bed, setting your crutches near your bed side and your instant hot compress.
"You need anything else?" Your head hangs low as you slightly chuckle and shake your head.
"Why are you doing this?" You ask him lowly before looking back up at him, tears clouding your vision. "Hm? Why, Yoongi?"
"You're hurt, why wouldn't I—"
"Hmm." You hum. "I'm hurt? So where the fuck were you after prom night? When I was hurt then, where the fuck have you been?" You began to cry.
"Y/N." His tongue swipes over his lips before he sighs. "I'm sorry." He says, close to a whisper.
"Are you? Because I don't think you really understand how bad you hurt me." You aggressively wipe away your tears while continuing to look at him, his body language soft and full of regret. "You didn't care about me."
"How could you say that? I cared—" He sighs as his head drops for a second. "I care about you more than you know."
"If you did then why the fuck was it so easy for you to drop me the way you did?!" You yelled. "You just don't do that to the people you care about, especially if it’s your bestfriend."
"Look, you're right. I have no excuse for the way I acted, and if I could turn back time to re-do it, I would. But I can't, and the only thing I can do is apologize and do my best to make it up to you." His bottom lip trembles as he steps closer to you, a small frown forming at the corners of his mouth.
"Yoongi." You cried. "I did everything for you, I stuck by you through everything, even during the times you didn't deserve that shit from me. But I stayed! I stood by you because you meant everything to me and god—" You groaned. "I needed you. I needed you and you weren't there! I fucking hate you for doing this shit to me but part of me will always have love for you no matter how fucked up the situation is. I will always drop everything for you. I will always care about you, and it's so unfair." It broke Yoongi's heart and he didn't know what to say, but he wraps his arms around you anyway, keeping you in a tight hug against his chest. He's surprised that you let him, even more surprised at how he feels your body soften under his touch.
"Fuck, I'm so, so sorry bub." He says lowly as he presses a kiss on top of your head. "I'm so sorry."
"Please don't ever go again." You cry against his chest.
"No, I'm not. I'm gonna be right here." He says hugging you tighter. "You're the only one who's ever understood me, who's ever kept it real with me. I don't deserve you, but I know damn sure I'll work hard to make up for letting you go in the first place." He places another kiss on top of your head. "I'm right here. Not going anywhere. I'm so sorry."
- - -
5.
4.
3.
2.
1.
"THE STANFORD BOYS TAKE THE CHAMPIONSHIP!" The commentator screams into his mic, Yoongi running a lap around the court before he's cheering loudly with his teammates and joining the group hug. You run down the bleachers, dashing straight into Yoongi's arms while he swings you around.
"That's what I'm fucking talking about!" You squeal and giggle as Yoongi places you back down and plants multiple kisses around your face, hands resting on the small of your back.
"Let's get out of here." He whispers in your ear.
"I'll wait at your car, bighead." You wink, causing him to smile that gummy smile of his that you adore more than life itself.
There's obviously a huge party going on tonight to celebrate this huge achievement, but Yoongi says he doesn't wanna join for once. He's happy, yeah. But the way he wants to celebrate is in peace. After so long, he feels like he can finally say he's content with where his life is at and where it's going. He drives over to the nearest beach, backing into a space so the both of you could sit in the back and try catching all the shooting stars up above. Yoongi leans against the side of the trunk, allowing you to lay your head on his lap while you curled up beside him listening to the waves slowly crash against the sand.
"Saw one." He says, looking up at the sky.
"You're a punk, no you didn't."
"What?" He laughs. "How are you about to say that? I caught it with my own two eyes."
"Oop! I saw one!"
"Now that's a lie. I was looking up too."
"Shut up." You laugh, causing Yoongi to tickle you along the sides before he stops and plants a kiss on your lips. It's silent for a minute while the two of you take in the night view— The sky and ocean coming together as one, forming a view that seemed endless.
"Hey."
"Hm?" You hum as Yoongi's fingers gently brush through your hair.
"You know I love you right?"
"Ew with the sappy shit, Min Yoongi." He laughs.
"Seriously."
"I know." You smile up at him. "I love you too."
"Come here." He says softly, tugging you upwards. You sit up, allowing Yoongi to press his lips against yours. He pulls you in by your shirt, having you straddle his lap while he grips onto your hips and immediately grinds against you. You let out a small moan feeling how quickly he hardened, his cock hitting you in the right places as you continue to grind on him. "Fuck, wanna feel you babygirl."
"Here?"
"Yeah." He chuckles and bites onto his bottom lip.
"What, all of a sudden you're scared?"
"Fuck off." You fire back, releasing his hardened member from its confines as you stroke him gently. He tilts his head back in pleasure before tugging your shorts and panties to the side, enough for him to cop a feel of how wet you are.
"Baby's all wet."
"What're you gonna do about it?" You whisper against his lips, biting onto his bottom lip and pulling back slightly. He hisses at the sensation before he moves your hand from his cock and takes control. He pushes you upward, positioning you enough to line up with your entrance.
"Take this shit off."
"Yoongi, we're in public."
"So, you're all talk and no play."
"I hate you."
"Nobody's here." He groans. "Just take off your shorts, pleeease." He begs as he slowly strokes himself. You toss aside your shorts, Yoongi immediately hooking his finger at the bottom of your panties and tugging it aside in order to push himself into you. He does enough before he lets you do the rest of the work and sink down on his length, a gasp leaving your throat as you take all of him in. He grips your hips tightly, setting the pace as he groans into your neck, your fingers tangled in his hair resting at the nape of his neck.
"Shit, babe." You moan as you tilt your head back.
"Fuck, you always ride me so well." He presses light kisses against your neck before he's nipping at the surface.
"Godddd why do you feel so good?" You whimper.
"You like how I feel inside of you?" You nod. "Yeah? Like how my cock fills you up?"
"Never gonna get tired of it." You moan, Yoongi making you pick up the pace aggressively. Besides the waves crashing, the lewd noises of skin slapping against skin fills the car, along with your soft moans and Yoongi's groans. Your clit is constantly rubbing against him, causing the pleasure to build so quickly it becomes overwhelming. You try to hold off as much as you can but—
"My pretty baby. All I fucking need." He almost growls, the words enough to send you over the edge. You let out a loud moan, not even caring for the houses nearby as your orgasm hits hard and ripples throughout your body, sending aftershocks. Yoongi continues to have you ride him fast and hard, the overwhelming sensation causing a hint of pain to mix with more pleasure until  you feel him feel you up. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He groans as his nails dig into your skin, giving two good thrusts upwards into you to help ride out his high. You both sit in the position for a minute, trying to come back down from your highs. Yoongi gives you a delicate peck on the lips, smiling into the kiss before he pulls away. "Swear you're all I need."
"See, I don't know if I could say the same." He smacks your ass as you hike up and off of him to put on your shorts.
"Take it back."
"I'm kidding." You blush.
"My ride or die. Are you with me?"
"Always have been. Are you?"
"You know I am."
"Good. You know it takes two." He smiles before pulling you into another hug and pressing a kiss against your temple.
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princessphilly · 3 years
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CW: Angst, angst, angst. 
Word count: 2916
Nina sighed as she snuggled her pillow. It sucked watching Sidney shake hands in the handshake line, the disappointing end to a good season. She sniffled as she watched Sidney stoically shake hands with the Flyers, disappointment and anger on his face.
This season, the Penguins had drawn the Islanders in the divisional semi-finals. After a hard-fought seven game series, the Pens had finally got past the Isles. However, the Flyers, surprisingly, made it past the Canes and the Battle of Pennsylvania was on. Unlike 2018, the Flyers won this time, in five games. Nina put her phone on vibrate, just in case Sidney called her.
However, Sidney didn’t call that night or for a fucking week. Nina was understanding at first but understanding turned into annoyance when pictures were posted of Sidney golfing with Kasperi, Brandon, and a couple of the single players. Nina just was glad she had the foresight to limit comments on her IG to approved commenters because she had no interest in people asking questions about him.
Scrolling her phone, Nina read a text from Marisa: has he called u yet?
No, Nina simply responded. She wasn’t going to call him first either. Let him have his bitch fit and golf. He didnt tell me he was going to go do that n im not his wife.
Nina’s phone rang and she answered. “Yes, Marisa?”
“Oh, Nina, he’s a douchebag. I can ask Kevin to slash him a couple of times next season,” Marisa commiserated.
Nina replied, “He hasn’t called me or texted me since that night. I haven’t tried to call him since Sunday because fuck that. I know he got his superstitions and everything but, no. Hell no.”
“I agree. Have you been out?”
Nina shook her head before saying, “I was finishing finals so I haven’t been out. Karesha told me we’re going out this coming Friday and, you know I don’t party like that but I will.”
“Give him something to miss,” Marisa advised.
Nina scoffed, “Something to miss? He’s lucky if I let him talk to me whenever he gets back.”
**
Sid groaned as he turned in his bed in Cole Harbour. He was so fucking pissed about the way the season ended; they finally got past the Isles only to get tripped up by fucking Giroux and his Flyers. Fucking Hart was a damn brick wall and fuck, Sidney could sense that his time in the game was coming to a swift close soon. For the past week and in a half, he had been in a funky snit, annoyed and needing to be away after golfing with the boys.
At the same time, he felt like shit. Sidney knew he shouldn’t have avoided Nina’s call; he was still raw from the loss and he didn’t want to expose Nina to that side. But, she hadn’t called or texted him since and Sidney didn’t know how to break the silence that he had created. Picking up his phone, Sidney blinked when he saw all of the messages on his lock screen. The team’s group chat had been busy last night.
Unlocking his phone, Sidney’s eyes bulged when he saw the messages. There were pictures of Nina out, with one of her friends, wearing a dress that was barely there. Her hair was falling straight over her shoulders but what really got Sidney’s attention was the fact that there were guys all around her. Then Nate sent a text; i guess ur single now. Told u not to go home without talking to her
“I’m a fuck up,” Sidney moaned.
“Yup, you are.”
Sidney blinked as he looked at his phone. He managed to call Tanger and Tanger didn’t look pleased.
“Sid, we’ve been friends for a long time but, I didn’t think you were this stupid,” Tanger scolded. “Really?”
“You know with the way the season ended,” Sidney began before Tanger cut him off.
“Nina knows that. She respects that. Nina’s not clingy or needy like some of the other girls. But, Cath told me you haven’t even called or texted her? Wow, Sid, wow.”
Sidney blushed as he listened to one of his closest friends berate him. Tanger was right. But how was he going to even apologize without looking like a bigger dummy?
“Well, you’re already acting like a dummy, Sid, so you might as well look like a bigger dummy,” Tanger snarked. “Nina isn’t like the other girls. She doesn’t need you.”
Sid gritted his teeth at that statement, especially since he knew that it was very true.
Sidney heard French yelling in the background before Tanger stated, “Cath thinks that despite being so good at hockey, you suck at being a person. And you made Nina cry when Cath last talked to her.”
Sidney wanted to slap himself. He made his pretty girl cry. “Fuck,” he yelled.
“Yeah, fuck. Fix it, Sid, instead of fucking yourself over forever.”
Sidney scrolled his phone after Tanger hung up on him. It looked like he was flying into Pittsburgh asap.
**
Nina sighed as she padded in her apartment. Last night was fun, going out with Karesha. They had just gone out to dinner, a jazz lounge, then ended the night at a rooftop bar. Nina knew people had been taking pictures of her all night and that people were wondering where Sidney was but that wasn’t her problem. There had been plenty of guys willing to take her home but Nina wasn’t interested in any of them either. She still wanted Sidney but fuck him too.
Her doorbell rang and Nina looked at the panel. It was Sidney with a pastry box and a wide grin on his face. Nina opened the door with a smile.
“Hi, pretty girl-”
Then she slammed it in his face, her grin growing wider as she loudly locked the door. Just like a man, coming back right when they realized she was getting attention from other men.
“Go away, Crosby, unless you want attention because you’re knocking on my door,” Nina yelled from the inside. Putting her earpods in, Nina cleaned her apartment for the umpteenth time, singing along.
Sidney gritted his teeth outside of Nina’s apartment. He was expecting her to let him in, yell at him, then he would charm his way back in. He didn’t expect to get the door slammed in his face and being told to leave. His desire not to gain extra attention was the only reason he left.
Nina sighed when she heard Sidney stomp away. Her anger was starting to change to sadness, again. She had hoped this would be different but Sidney was just like every other man; ain’t shit at the end of the day.
**
“Take him for all his cash, girl. Then tell him, maybe I'll take you back.”
Nina rolled her eyes as she listened to Jamila. “For someone so wealthy, you sure like to talk about taking men for their cash.”
“It’s like this; men figure out their self-worth by how big their dick is, how many women they fuck, and how much money they have. You don’t want to go to jail so you can’t cut his dick off. So, fleece him and then dump him for good,” Jamila advised.
Nina sighed and Jamila groaned. “Oh my God, please don’t tell me you miss this dumbass. Dude didn’t contact you after losing in their playoffs! He ignored your call! He only contacted you in person after you and ‘Resha went out! The dick can’t be that good!”
Nina sighed as she listened to Jamila. Over the past couple of days, there had been Edible Arrangement deliveries, lunch bought for the staff, cards proclaiming that he was dumb as hell and sorry for being an idiot. And Nina still didn’t respond. No calls, no texts, Nina was still upset and feeling raw.
“Jamila.. Glass houses remember?”
Jamila sighed over the phone. She didn’t really have that much space to talk but she persisted, “You let him off easy, he’s going to walk all over you forever. I know I’m a fuck up but I never let a man walk all over me. Don’t let Mayo Boy, no, he’s Miracle Whip because that shit is disgusting and he hurt you. Don’t let Miracle Whip think he can apologize a couple times and you’ll come running back.”
“I haven’t made any decisions yet. Plus, I’m going away with Desi, Sio, Lauren, and Kim to Phuket. You know, that trip you helped plan but you can’t go on now,” Nina said as she logged into her workstation. Work had become a refuge of sorts. Everyone was pretty much professional, no one brought up anyone’s personal life. It was all about work and the patients and it made Nina happy. “I gotta go, I have a patient at 8:30.”
“Bye girl, and remember what I said,” Jamila replied.
“Byeeee”
Nina hung up and pulled her earpods out of her ears. It was time to focus on another day of work. Before Nina realized it, it was lunch time. Rubbing her temples, she sighed as she thought about lunch. Grabbing her purse and her keys, Nina made her way out of her office. “Rita, I’m going to get lunch,” Nina called out to the receptionist.
However, as soon as she left, Nina saw the infamous Range Rover in the parking lot and she closed her eyes. She wasn’t in the mood and it looked like it was going to get embarrassing for Sidney.
Luckily, it wasn’t Sidney who came out but someone totally different. Nina let out a breath she was holding and walked to her car. Her vacation was coming up in three days and she would be away for two and a half weeks. Sidney would probably leave her alone once he realized she was out of the country. Nina was sure of it, he had to have been icing her out to dump her anyway for the offseason.
**
“Still no call?”
Sidney sighed as Geno plopped in the chair across from his. He had put on his best smile today for Nikita’s birthday but he was feeling the strain.
“None,” he finally replied. Sidney felt so tired and such a fool. The best thing in his life had slipped out of his fingers and it was all his fault.
Geno snickered as Anna strolled in, holding a box. “Zhenya,” she asked before rolling her eyes at Sidney.
“Da,” Geno replied.
Anna started speaking rapid fire Russian, too fast for Sidney to even attempt to keep up. Geno started to laugh when Anna pointed to Sidney before pointing to the box. Then Anna abruptly turned on her heel and left the room.
Confused, Sidney asked, “What was that?”
Anna hadn’t been talking to him and Sidney felt like he was part of the subject of that conversation. Geno chuckled before replying, “Anna said that it’s a shame Nina isn’t here but she made sure to at least have a gift sent for Nikita before going to Thailand.”
Geno didn’t add the rest, which was Anna saying Nina had better manners than his captain, to at least send a gift that she didn’t have to send, before disappearing. He wasn’t interested in kicking his captain when he was down.
Sidney winced. Part of him felt a bit happy that Nina was somewhere, having fun but it was without him so it was his fault.
“Oh, look at this, Nina’s riding elephant,” Geno crowed as he looked at instagram. Sidney looked at the picture. Nina was riding an elephant, making some kind of triangle symbol with her hands. Then he looked at the comments and the first one said: look at you, dropping baggage and having fun.
Geno snickered before saying, “Poor Sid.”
“Not supportive, Geno,” Sidney remarked, closing his eyes.
There was a pause before Geno replied, “Maybe donate money to things Nina likes. Maybe she’ll talk to you when she gets back.”
**
Sidney checked his phone for what seemed like the umpteenth time. “Cros, she’s not going to text you.”
Sidney rolled his eyes at Tazer’s annoyed tone. Webs, Pricey, and Tanger laughed at him. They were all in Toronto together for a team Canada thing but that was over and they were out for drinks.
“Heard you fucked up, badly,” Webs stated in a dry tone. “When in doubt, always apologize first and buy the woman her favorite thing second.”
“Nina’s not big on buying stuff,” Sidney absentmindedly replied. Getting Nina to splurge on herself was like going to the dentist. It wasn’t fun.
One thing Sidney did realize from off and on monitoring Nina's Instagram was that she was big on helping out at the Greater Pittsburgh Community Food Bank, she liked volunteering at the Humane Animal Rescue of Pittsburgh, and every year, she volunteered at a pop-up shop for girls who wanted to go to prom but couldn’t afford it.
Sidney wrote five figure checks to each organization, in Nina’s name, no strings attached. Sidney was serious about trying to get his pretty girl back and he knew that Nina was serious about volunteering and giving back. Now, he was just waiting to see Nina’s reaction. If Nina told him thanks but it was over, Sidney would be upset but he could accept it.
There were no texts that night but that morning, Sidney woke up to a text from Nina. It was a simple thank you but it meant more than anything to Sidney at that moment.
**
Nina sighed as she looked at the thank you cards that had been waiting for her when she returned home. This was so out of the ordinary, she had to text Sidney when she saw them. It was more meaningful than gifts.
The trip to Phuket had been amazing but there had been a tinge of sadness for Nina. She enjoyed riding the elephants, experiencing the beaches, going diving, everything. It was truly the vacation she had been waiting to have, after Covid and then switching jobs had pushed everything back. Despite her best efforts, Nina missed Sidney. She missed that dumbass hockey player, he had wormed into her heart that easily. She missed him and was still supremely angry at him. Nina felt like the biggest dumbass on earth. As she waited for him to show up at her place, she wanted to bang her head into the wall. I fucked up by dating him, Nina said to herself.
Her doorbell rung and Nina opened the door. It was Sidney, hands in his pockets, no gifts this time. He ached to bring her into his arms but Sidney wouldn’t touch Nina unless she gave him permission.
There was a stony silence after Sidney closed the door, neither willing to say the first word. Nina tried to summon some of the anger she had but all that was left was pain and sadness. Before she even realized, a couple tears had slipped. Sidney saw them and his composure completely crumbled. He did the one thing he swore he would never do; he made his pretty girl cry.
Nina hiccupped as Sidney pulled her into his arms. He just held her as she cried. “Fuck you, Sidney Crosby. I felt like you were icing me out before dumping me. Fuck you, you fucking jagoff.”
“I-I should have said something but I was so pissed and I didn’t want to lash out at you. Then it just snowballed,” Sidney said, heartbreaking as Nina sniffled.
“You’re such a fucking dumbass. I don’t even know why I’m even considering taking you back.”
Sidney said, “I just didn’t want to burden you with everything I go through at the end of the season, especially when it’s disappointing.”
“Fuck that, Sidney.” Nina glared up at him, the big dummy. “Communication, it means that if you say you’re in a relationship, you communicate. You should have even sent a text, ‘I’m pissed as fuck, going golfing with the boys, be back soon’ or even just periodically texted those stupid hi and good morning beautiful texts. How would you feel if I didn’t call or text you and went away?”
Sidney paused as he considered Nina’s point. He was unhappy he didn’t know that Nina had gone away without telling him but he couldn’t say anything now. “Your face says it all, Crosby,” Nina snarked.
“I’m sorry, Nina,” Sidney said, deep from his heart.
Nina sighed, she could tell he was truly sorry. “Those donations… they were a total surprise. They all needed the money and are dear to me. But the Pittsburgh Prom Dress giveaway, we always need more funds since it doesn’t get as many donations around the year. Your donation not only allowed us to provide more dresses this prom season, it also allowed us to expand our collection so that we could provide suits as well as dresses. Thank you, Sidney.”
“You’re welcome,” he sincerely replied.
Keeping her cheek on his chest, Nina said, “I’m dumb because I really am considering taking you back. But don’t ever do that again.”
Pulling away a bit, Nina looked deep into Sidney’s eyes. “I’m serious. I don’t think I’m clingy, I don’t require much, but don’t even do that again. I don’t need you to call me everyday but don’t ever ignore me like that again, Sidney.”
“I won’t, I swear,” Sidney promised, happy that his pretty girl was talking to him again.
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helloalycia · 3 years
Text
worth the wait [five] // daisy johnson
summary: the longer Daisy spends with you, the more you realise that maybe nine years isn't enough time to get over her.
warning/s: mentions of PTSD.
author's note: this is the final part, but it was a little long so i’ve put it into two posts. hopefully the daisy stans appreciated it 😊
part one | part two | part three | part four | part six | masterlist | wattpad
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I woke with a start, immediately feeling my hair sticking to the nape of my neck and the need to shake off my duvet.
The fear of my nightmare still implanted in the pit of my stomach made me reach for my bedside lamp. I half expected someone to grab my hand in the dark, my imagination working overtime to scare the living hell out of me, but nothing happened except for the lamp turning on.
I sat up in bed and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm my racing heart. It was just a dream, nothing real. And I knew that, logically, since I was in my childhood bedroom instead of a dark torture chamber. Yet I couldn't stop crying and imagining the worst.
It was getting worse – the nightmares, the anxiety, the nausea. Ever since Daisy and my mum had told me to see a therapist, I knew it was getting worse, but I still hadn't done anything about it. Clearly, things had to change.
Barely thinking about, I found myself grabbing my phone and dialling Daisy's number. I hadn't spoken to her since she came over, and it was my fault things had been left on a bad note. That was only last week and I felt like an idiot as I heard the phone ringing.
"Hello?" her groggy voice came through, and I immediately felt bad.
I swallowed the lump in my throat as I tried to silence my heavy breathing. "Hey, Daisy. It's, er, it's Y/N. I'm sorry, I– I didn't mean to wake you. I–"
"Y/N?" she asked, voice laced with fatigue and confusion. "Are you okay? What is it? Where are you?"
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you," I said quickly, trying to maintain my shakiness. I brought my legs up to my chest and wrapped an arm around them tightly. "I'm at home. I just–" I flinched, closing my eyes. "I'm sorry, did I wake you? My parents gave me your number and I– I didn't know what else to do–"
"You don't need to apologise," she cut me off, wakening up a little by the sounds of it. "I'm glad you called. What's wrong?"
I smiled dryly, wiping away at my tears. "I, er, you were right about me. I should have–" I breathed out deeply. "I need to talk to someone about... yeah. But right now I... I can't go back to sleep."
"Do you want me to come over? I'm not far and–"
"No, no!" I said quickly, slightly embarrassed. "You don't need to– it's the middle of the night. I just– I don't know what I was expecting. I just didn't want to be alone and I didn't wanna wake my parents and worry them."
"Of course," she said reassuringly. "It's okay. I won't come, but I can stay on the phone with you if you'd like? We can talk. Or we can just stay silent. Anything you want."
I sniffled and put my head between my legs, feeling my shoulders relax a little. The last thing I wanted was to be a bother to her.
"Thanks," I muttered, and I wasn't even sure if she heard it. "I'm sorry for how I acted last week... with this."
"We don't need to talk about it," she said softly, her voice raspy as she'd just woken up. "I just want you to be okay."
I closed my eyes, breathing out quietly. I wasn't sure what to say, but the sound of her voice was instantly reassuring.
It was quiet between us, for at least another minute or so, and all I could hear was her breathing on the other side. As much as I appreciated the company, I knew it was unfair of me to keep her on the phone.
Swallowing hard, I said, "Daisy?"
"Yeah? Are you okay?"
I rubbed the bridge of my nose, knowing I wasn't. "I don't think–" I sighed awkwardly. "I won't be falling asleep any time soon and I– er, you should go. I don't want to keep you on here for no reason."
"It's not for no reason," she reassured. "I'll stay on until you fall asleep, Y/N. You'll get tired eventually."
"But if I don't–"
"I'll stay on."
I nodded, despite her being unable to see me. "Thank you..."
It went quiet again, and I felt my heart rate returning to its normal pace as I distracted myself with the sound of Daisy's breathing. It wasn't hard to tire myself to the sound, as I was already exhausted, just scared. But when I closed my eyes and let her breathing comfort me, it almost felt like she was right next to me, and my fear slowly faded away.
When I woke up the next morning, I was drooling on my phone screen as the sun streamed through my curtains. When I wiped my mouth, a yawn escaped my lips and I moved my phone from my pillow, confused to why it was there. But then I remembered the early hours of that morning and felt my face flush with embarrassment. I checked the screen, seeing the call wasn't still on, but there was a text from Daisy.
Daisy: hey, Y/N, I hope you feel better in the morning. I figured you wouldn't want to wake up to me on the phone, so I hung up. Please don't be angry, but I'm on my way over to see you. I just want to make sure you're okay.
That message was sent fifteen minutes ago, so I wouldn't put it past Daisy to already be outside. It was embarrassing, don't get me wrong, but I appreciated that she cared enough to check on me, even after I'd treated her disrespectfully.
I'd just managed to brush my teeth when Daisy arrived. My mum called me downstairs, claiming it was for me, and I tried not to fidget in my pyjamas as I descended the stairs and saw Daisy waiting by the front door. When she saw me, a relieved smile was on her lips.
"Hey," she began quietly, hesitant to say more in case I was mad.
I exhaled slowly, shoulders relaxing at the sight of her. She'd helped me more than she'd known, and with that thought in my mind, I moved forward and hugged her gratefully.
"Thank you," I whispered into her shoulder, closing my eyes as my arms laced around her neck.
She returned the hug and I sensed her surprise.
"Anytime, Y/N," she replied with a squeeze. "I just want you to be okay."
I nodded, lingering for a moment longer than I probably should have, before pulling away. She searched my eyes with a hint of concern and I subconsciously grabbed her hand and kept ahold of it.
"I'm gonna book an appointment with a therapist," I told her, the thought terrifying me in itself, but I knew it was the right thing to do. "And I wanted to ask if you... would you..." I swallowed hard, suddenly unable to meet her eyes. "Will you please come with me?"
"Of course I will," she promised, squeezing my hand and earning my attention. "I'll be with you whenever you want." She blinked, clearing her throat with realisation. "I mean, for the appointments, obviously."
Thankfully, her messy words brought a smile to my face and reassured me about the whole therapy thing.
"Thank you," I said, finding it cute how she was the one to avoid my eyes now. "Since you're here, you may as well stay for breakfast. If you're not busy, that is."
"Breakfast. Sure. I'd love to."
I didn't let go of her hand as I tugged her towards the kitchen to join me.
Having Daisy back in my life was probably the best thing to happen to me in a long time.
Not only had she literally saved my life as Quake, but she was also saving my life every day after. Whether it was accompanying me to my therapist appointments or hospital appointments, or hanging out with me way more than she needed to, she was more present in my life. I didn't ask her to – it only began when I'd asked her to come to my first therapist appointment – but she'd chosen to. And I didn't want to question it because I'd missed her more than I cared to admit.
My parents took her in as family like no time had passed and I was accepting her back into my life, too, but I didn't want to get too attached. She had a job to do at the end of the day, and knowing Daisy, she wouldn't stay for too long. I guess, in the back of my head, there was still that expectation of her picking up and leaving, just like she used to. Which was silly, since that was years ago, but still...
Despite her presence in my life again, we'd been avoiding talking about what we'd missed in each other's lives. The specifics anyway. I knew she joined S.H.I.E.L.D. and found her family, and she knew I became an investigative journalist and did many news packages on different topics, but I didn't know anything more and neither did she. I wasn't sure if it was on purpose or if we just avoided it without thinking, but I knew we had to face the music soon.
We were getting coffee after she picked me up from one of my therapy sessions when I brought it up.
"So, my therapist has been helping me with some stuff," I began, staring at my coffee as we walked back to my house. "Stuff outside of my PTSD, that is."
"Oh?" Daisy asked, and I could see her looking at me in the corner of my eyes. "Like what?" 
I took a sip of my coffee, trying not to feel embarrassed as I answered, "Well, we obviously talk about my life. And what happens in it. Who I'm with..."
"Yeah..." Daisy was grinning now.
I rolled my eyes, wishing my face wasn't as warm as it felt. "She noticed you've been dropping me off and picking me up and... you may have come up in conversation."
"Ah, so you talk about me," she said slowly, trying very hard not to laugh. "Did you tell her how amazing I am? Or how beautiful, charming and funny I am?"
I sighed, finally lifting my eyes to look at her. Brown eyes twinkled with amusement as she gave me her usual teasing smile, making me shove her in the shoulder gently. Laughter spilled from her lips and I hated the butterflies in my stomach at the sound.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she said, falling into step with me again. "You were saying. Go on."
Looking back ahead as we walked, I said, "Yes, well, we talked about you. And then she recommended that I try to catch up with you more. You know? Because we both talk so much about the good old days and even now, but not the in between. Not the parts that we weren't there for."
I looked back to Daisy when I finished, and she thankfully lost her amusement as she nodded in agreement. I half expected her to take the piss, but she was supportive as she glanced at me.
"I like the sound of that," she said, easing the nerves in my stomach. "So. What do you want to know?"
I cleared my throat, taking another sip of my drink and thinking of where to start. "Okay, erm... why don't we start with your S.H.I.E.L.D. friends? They're your family and I would love to get to know them better. What are they like?"
She nodded thoughtfully, sipping her coffee. "S.H.I.E.L.D., okay. Well, you met Jemma. She's basically my sister. Her and Fitz – I think I mentioned him before?" I nodded, recalling her throwing in the name in one of her stories. "They're together and they've been with me since I was recruited a few years ago. We've been through a lot together, but they've got my backs and I've got theirs."
I smiled at the carefree expression on her face. Just talking about them put her at ease and I felt a little better knowing that her time after high school wasn't completely terrible like I imagined.
"Then there's Coulson, of course," she continued, glancing at me every now and then to see if I was listening. "He's basically our dad. He's the reason I'm even with S.H.I.E.L.D. and he's always looking out for me, even when I'm doing stupid stuff."
"So, regularly then."
She nudged me in the arm at my comment, making me chuckle.
"He was how I learnt about my family," she explained. "There for me when I found them. When I got my powers. When I lost my family... he's been there through it all. I'd do anything for him."
I watched her carefully. "He sounds important to you."
Her lips curved into a small smile as brown eyes met mine. "He is."
She continued to tell me about the rest of her team and what everything was like at work, and the whole time she did, she was smiling.
"I'd love for you to meet them all," she finished, and I was surprised at the hint of nervousness in her voice. I didn't think she ever got nervous. "I mean, you've met Jemma, but the others– you should meet them, too. If you want to, that is."
"I'd like that," I said instantly, appreciating the way her eyes lit up and she tried very hard to hide her smile.
She cleared her throat, distracting from the pink spreading on her face, before asking, "So, you basically know about everything interesting that's happened to me these past nine or so years. What about you? Anything life-changing occur for you?" I opened my mouth to answer, and she added, "Apart from travelling around the world and being an investigative journalist?"
I feigned offence. "I hardly think that's fair. That's like me asking you not to talk about working for S.H.I.E.L.D. or being Quake."
Rolling her eyes playfully, she said, "Go on. Tell me something different."
I looked away from her in thought, thinking back to the past nine years. "I guess... oh, I know. I was almost married."
Her jaw dropped. "You were what?"
A laugh escaped my lips at her intrigued expression. She shook her head with disbelief.
"I have to know more," she insisted, before raising her brows. "You? Almost married?"
"It does sound strange," I agreed with amusement, before recalling the event. "It was about two years ago. I was with this guy who worked at the same paper I did. We'd been together for about a year and–"
"–and you realised he had a second family in the Bahamas?" she finished with a roguish grin.
"Very funny." I narrowed my eyes jokingly. "But no. I just realised I didn't love him. Well, I wasn't in love with him."
"Ouch."
"Ouch indeed." I paused, remembering the poor guy's face when I broke the news to him. "It was a month into the engagement when I told him the truth. He was very understanding, but–"
"–but you broke his poor little heart," she concluded, before wrapping an arm around my shoulder and tugging me closer. "Dear Y/N. The heartbreaker."
"Fuck off."
She laughed when she saw me attempting to fight a smile from my lips. Though eventually, one appeared anyway. Daisy always had the ability to bring out the best in me like that – I'd missed it.
"How about you anyway?" I asked, hoping for an opportunity to tease her in return. "Any boyfriends or girlfriends I should know about? Crazy exes, maybe?"
She snorted, swallowing her coffee before giving me a knowing look. "You're gonna need to brace yourself for this one. I doubt you'll believe me when it comes to this."
I rose an eyebrow with curiosity. "Damn, you've got me hooked, Johnson. Proceed."
And of course, that was the first and last time I heard about Agent Grant Ward. An interestingly dark tale of a dickhead of a man whose existence I was glad was no more.
"...so, do I win?" Daisy asked once she finished talking about him.
"Win what?"
She stared like it was obvious. "The best ex story, duh!"
"Wow." I snickered, shaking my head. "I guess you do."
Fist-pumping like an idiot, she said, "Knew it. Nothing ever beats homicidal psychopath almost-boyfriend."
"You need help."
"No, no I don't. I have you."
"Uh-huh."
"Love you, too." 
Three months passed since returning from Myanmar and I was finally in a place where I could return to work. Even though I'd been putting together my research and interviews into a coherent news story at home, I hadn't physically been back to the newsroom in about a year.
My therapist had been helping me to treat my PTSD, my physical therapy was helping me get back function in my shoulder and arm, and the injury itself was almost healed, though I still had to wear a cast. Everything was actually beginning to look up.
I'd even sent off the complete news series about what I'd discovered in Myanmar to my editor which got published just before I returned to work. So, of course, as soon as I got there, that was the first thing everybody congratulated me on.
"Views have been going through the roof," Taylor, my colleague and closest friend at work, said as soon as he spotted me walking to my desk. "Your story is all anybody has been talking about!"
"Good to see you, too," I joked, an attempt to disguise my embarrassment at all the attention. "It's only been a year since we last saw each other."
He gave me a grin. "You know I missed you, Y/L/N, get over here."
I rolled my eyes playfully but accepted his hug, being careful of my shoulder. He squeezed me gently before letting go and perching himself on the edge of my desk as I took a seat. It felt strange to be back, but a good strange.
"I still can't believe you're actually here in the flesh," he said after a moment, eyeing me suspiciously. "I've been so used to quick calls and texts where I try to convince you not to do stupid stuff."
Chuckling, I shot him an appreciative smile. "You know I'm grateful for that. Even if I didn't listen."
"You not listening helped you get the best story though," he countered. "I bet you didn't expect S.H.I.E.L.D. to make the bust in the end though."
I sighed, shaking my head. "Definitely not. But I owe them a lot. They saved my life."
His expression softened. "That's another thing... thanks for not dying on me."
"You're welcome," I returned, though appreciated what he meant. "Now. Catch me up on everything I missed. Gossip an' all."
That was enough for him to pull up a seat and remind me of everything I'd missed whilst being away. We'd spoke many times whilst I was gone, but nothing quite beat a good bitching session in person.
Eventually though, our editor ended up interrupting and asked to see me in her office. I wasn't worried in the slightest, but there was still that tiny part of me that imagined the worst.
"You can stop holding your breath, y'know," Karla told me when I stopped before her desk. She seemed amused as she added, "I wanted to congratulate you on the human trafficking story."
Relaxing my shoulders, I raised my brows. "Oh. I– thank you. I'm glad you liked it."
"You put a lot on the line to get the results you did, but it shows," she continued proudly. "You've made an excellent name for yourself and done your fellow journalists proud."
"I didn't do it for that," I said politely, "but thank you. I just wanted to help those people in Myanmar the best I could."
She smiled. "And you did."
"Well, S.H.I.E.L.D. did."
"But you shared the truth, didn't you?" she reminded me. "Don't belittle this achievement."
I didn't know what to say, so I stayed quiet and watched as she took a seat at her desk chair.
"I heard that it was Quake who saved you back there," she said curiously. "You know, we've never actually gotten an interview with her. Nobody has."
Oh, so that's what she actually wanted.
"I thought, well, since you know her, you could get us an exclusive?" she asked.
I chewed on my lip. "Erm..."
"You don't have to," she added, noticing my reluctance. "But it could be good for everyone. The city can get to know its hero, you can get a great interview under your belt. And our paper gets all the views. What d'you say?"
I was beginning to regret putting that one quote from Daisy in my article now... I should have known Karla would want more. That was the thing with editors – you give them one taste and they want to eat the whole thing.
"I'll ask," I decided, which she seemed to love. "No harm in asking, but I can't promise anything."
Karla leaned back in her seat, nodding. "Very true. Thank you for understanding. I'll let you settle back into work now. Remember to take it easy, yeah? Don't want to lose my best journalist from overworking herself."
I smiled awkwardly as she laughed, before nodding in response and leaving her office.
It wasn't that I didn't want to interview Daisy, but I didn't want to ruin what we had by asking for a favour. Everything between us was going well, even if it was probably temporary and she'd have to leave soon. I assumed that anyway. And on top of that, I was certain I was falling in love with her again, just like I had nine years ago.
Could you blame me? It was impossible to just remain friends with her when she went through all this extra effort to make sure I was okay. Her kind, considerate, supportive self was always on my mind whether I liked it or not. A girl could dream, right?
After my first day back, Daisy picked me up outside. She insisted when she rang me at lunchtime to make sure I was okay, wanting to know everything about how my first day went. I couldn't find it in myself to say no, so I eventually found her sat on a chair in the lobby when I came downstairs after work.
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NEVER NOT | THE DATE . . .
❃ PAIRING tom holland x fem!reader
❃ DISCLAIMER i do not own the artists (and the reader) that are going to portray the characters, but i do own some of the their names. the plot of the story is inspired to the book and movie 'to all the boys i've loved before' but with changes. the gifs and photos used in this series are edited by me but i get credits to the originals. also, this series is first posted in wattpad by me. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST IT SOMEWHERE ELSE !
❃ WORD COUNT 3.2k words
WANNA BE ON THE TAGLIST? feel free to comment on this post if you wanna be added to this series' taglist to get notified for updates !
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NEVER NOT MASTERPOST | LEI'S LIBRARY
"Sometimes, the more you get to know a person, the more attractive they become." — anonymous
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
IT HAS BEEN THREE WEEKS since Tom and Y/N made a deal to pretend as a couple. Who would have thought that they would actually last a week?
As usual, Y/N did her morning routine during school days. Waking up, taking a bath, eating and going out of the house.
She ate the last piece of bread and cleaned up the table before going out of the house.
"Dad! I'm going now!" Y/N exclaimed to her dad who was still upstairs.
"Take care, darling!" He replied back that made Y/N smile before closing the door behind her. She adjusted her bag and walked going to school.
She sang some of the lyrics of never not by Lauv as she was walking until someone suddenly interrupted her and made her startle.
"Morning, love!" A familiar voice suddenly said and that made her almost fall.
"Holland! You twat." Y/N scolded him and that just made him laugh at her.
"Didn't know you had an angelic voice." He said and grinned at her. That made her cheeks blush and felt embarrassed when he heard her sing. No one has ever heard her sing except for her family and Erika.
"H-how did you-" Then she gasped. "You really are a stalker." She teased him remembering that she called him that before.
"Hey! I just want to walk with my girlfriend." He said. All of a sudden, Y/N's heart suddenly pounded so hard the moment he said that. It's as if they were really together as a couple.
No. No. No. No, Y/N. Stop it!
"Whatever, Holland." She asked and flipped her hair and continued walking. Tom just chuckled at her act and jogged towards her to catch up.
"Wait up, babe." He said and that made Y/N roll her eyes.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Going lunch with the one and only Tom Holland was far different from when it was only Y/N and Erika. Y/N was with her boyfriend's group of friends and that made her feel out of place.
As they were laughing and talking, Y/N just sat there awkwardly, not saying anything until she felt an arm around her shoulders that startled her. Tom was already noticing that Y/N was out of place so he did what he had to do.
"Are you okay, babe?" He asked with a concerning face and that made her smile at him.
"Yes, Tom. I just feel out of place." She whispered it so that his friends wouldn't hear.
"I'll make it up to you later." He said. "How about a date after school?" He asked her.
"Well, dating wasn't in the contract so-"
"Stop thinking about the contract for a while." He said. "Consider this as a two-week anniversary. My treat."
Y/N felt a slight blush coming from her cheeks but she shrugged it off and roll her eyes on him, playfully. "Alright, Holland." She smiled at him and he made an expression of joy.
"Hey, Y/N!" She heard Harrison called her and she looked at him with a 'what?' expression.
"Would you slap Tom for 100 dollars?" He joked and that made the other laugh at him except for Tom who just glared at his best mate.
"Shut it, Osterfield." Y/N heard Tom said.
"Who said that I wouldn't?" Y/N joked back and that made his friends laugh more. Tom looked at her like how he glared at Harrison and that made her smile at him wide.
"I'm kidding babe." She said and kissed him on his cheek which caused his friends to tease both of them.
"Shut it, you dweeb."
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
"Hey, Aria. I won't be having dinner with you guys today, if you don't mind. I'm going out with Tom to have dinner together." Y/N said through her phone on her ear.
"My sister is all grown up." She started and Y/N could hear her squeal from the phone. "Of course, I'll let dad know."
"Thank you, Sis."
"And remember, stay protected!" That was what her sister said. When Y/N got what it meant, she was about to scold Aria but instead, the call had already ended.
"Why are people acting so weird today?" She asked herself as she kept her phone to her pocket until she heard her best friend's voice calling her from the hallway.
"Y/N!" She looked at where the voice was coming and saw Erika running towards her with a paper on her hand.
"Erika!" Y/N called back and Erika reached her and she panted at first from running.
"Why the hell were you running?" Y/N asked as Erika was trying to catch her breath.
"Maybe I should go back to track and field again. Damn, my back hurts when I run." Erika said and stretched her back. "But anyway!"
"I got an A+ for the first time of my life, Y/N!" She squealed and showed the paper that she was holding to Y/N's face. "See!"
Y/N got startled when Erika suddenly shove the paper to her face. "Oh my god, how did you do that?" Y/N asked while scanning through the paper.
"It's called, luck!" Erika exclaimed which caused people to look at her but of course, she doesn't care. "Anyways! Do you want to go somewhere after this?" She asked as she kept her test paper on her bag.
"Tom already asked me out for dinner," Y/N said and that made Erika put her hand on her chest.
"Are you ditching me for him?" Erika asked in a dramatic way and Y/N could just chuckle. "I'm kidding! Go have fun and stay protected."
Y/N glared at her. "I'm not going to do it with him!" She said and that made Erika laugh.
Erika saw someone behind Y/N and smirked. "There's your prince charming. I better go. Enjoy your date, lovebirds!"
Y/N turned around only to meet chocolate eyes looking at her. She smiled at him and walked towards him. He smiled back at her as he stopped walking and just looked at her.
How did she get this pretty? He asked himself.
What the hell, Tom? Another voice asked and he shrugged if off.
"Ready to go?" He asked her.
"Where are we going through?" She asked and they walked together going outside.
"To the restaurant you told me that you and your dad would go." He told her and his eyes widen.
"The last time I went there was a month ago." She said.
"And that's about to change." He said and placed an arm around her as they head towards his car.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
It was past six in the evening when they've arrived in the restaurant. Y/N was too excited that when Tom parked his car, she suddenly went out first. She was so ready to eat whatever they're going to order.
This place was full of memories for her.
"Relax, Y/N." She heard Tom say and closed the door to his car to go to her
"I missed this place." She said. "Let's go!" She grabbed his hand and went inside the restaurant.
As they went inside, she could feel the good old vibes that she felt since she first went here with her parents. She looked around and saw a familiar face on the counter.
"Aunt Mary!" She greeted and the lady looked up from the counter. She squinted her eyes to see who it really was.
"Y/N?" She called back and Y/N nodded and walked towards her aunt. She wrapped her arms around her aunt and have a loving hug.
"How are you, my dear?" Aunt Mary asked.
"I'm alright. School is just driving me crazy." Y/N answered and she felt Tom going beside her.
"And who is this young man?" Her aunt asked.
"This is Tom Holland. My—"
"Her boyfriend, Ma'am." He interrupted Y/N with a smile and shook hands with her Aunt.
"My little girl is grown up, oh my." She answered. "Since when, dear?"
"Just two weeks ago, Auntie," Y/N answered.
"Well, I won't disturb you on your date tonight." Aunt Mary teased and turned to Y/N. "The usual, dear?" She asked and took out a pen and pad paper.
"Yes, please," Y/N said.
"How about you, Tom?" She turned to Tom to ask for his order.
"I would like some burger and just soda, please." He said.
"Alright. The usual table is waiting for you Y/N. And the jukebox is there too." Aunt Mary said and Y/N got excited once more.
"Thank you, Auntie," Y/N said and held Tom free hand and head towards the usual table that they use whenever they go in the restaurant.
Y/N sat down and Tom sat down in front of her. He noticed a small jukebox that was on their table.
"Are there jukeboxes in every table here?" He asked and observed the jukebox.
"Not all actually." She said. "When I was a kid, we would go here most of the time and it just happened that Aunt Mary works here."
"Is she like a relative or something?"
"She's my mom's best friend actually since their high school years." She answered. "So she's like my second mother."
"That explains why you're close." He said and looked at Y/N as she tugged her hair to her ear.
"She was the one who took care if me and Aria when my mom passed away. My dad became depressed for a few years because of that and couldn't concentrate on taking care of us."
Y/N could remember her dad becoming depressed when their mother died. He started to drink every night and she would usually catch him crying in his room with a bottle of wine on the floor.
"Your dad really loves your mom." Tom interrupted Y/N's thoughts.
"He does, really." She said and sighed while looking around the restaurant, how people and families are eating happily together. "There are so many memories in this restaurant."
"Like?" He asked.
"This is where my dad met my mom when she was still working here for a part-time job with Aunt Mary." She started. "My mom was a hard to get girl even though she started developing feelings for my dad." She chuckled at the thought.
"Your dad's a fighter then," Tom said and chuckled.
"Indeed, he was." She said and smiled. "They went on dates here until Aria and I was born."
"I wish I met your mom honestly," Tom said.
Y/N just looked at Tom and smiled. She likes that he was just listening to her and he liked that about guys.
She placed her head on her hands and just looked at him. "You're a good listener, eh?" She asked and Tom just chuckled.
"Indeed I am."
Y/N was about to ask something when she got interrupted by Aunt Mary's voice going towards them.
"Your orders are here!" She said with trays on her hands and she placed then down their table.
"Enjoy your date, darlings." Aunt Mary said before going away from them.
"Thank you, Auntie," Y/N said and Tom just smiled at her aunt.
They started to eat their respective food and Y/N was enjoying herself until she remembered what she wanted to ask Tom a while ago.
"How many girls have you been with before Camille?" She asked as she at her fries and looking at him.
He paused for a while to look back to the past. "Two actually, but the first one was like not an official relationship. We just both liked each other until it faded." He answered. "And the second girl was the first girl that I had an official relationship with until things got out of hand that I'd rather not talk about." He ate one of his fries before he continued talking. "Then there was Camille whom I've been with for almost two years."
"I didn't know both of you lasted that long," Y/N said. She only heard about the both of them when they were upcoming seniors and she couldn't believe that Camille finally got the one she had a crush on when they were still in middle school.
And the fact that she hated me because I got to have my first kiss with Tom was just unbelievable. Y/N thought to herself.
"I thought she was worth it until she broke it off," Tom said and looked down. Y/N looked at him with awe and placed her hand on top of his. Tom looked at her and he saw her smile at him.
"I'm starting to get over it though." He said and Y/N just giggled. "That's a good thing, right?" She asked.
"Yep. I like hanging out with you better." He said while taking a bite of his burger.
And that made her heart skip a beat. She felt her cheeks heated. "R-really?"
"Of course." He said with his strong British accent.
She shrugged off the feeling that she felt and tried to change the subject.
"The best part of this restaurant is the jukebox," Y/N said and looked at the jukebox that was on their table. "Do you have a coin with you?" She asked him.
He looked for a coin on his pocket until he felt a tiny circle and got it out. "Here." He handed her the coin.
Y/N got the coin from him and inserted it on the jukebox. She pressed the button where the music will start to play and it was perfect timing that the song that was playing Bring It On Home To Me by Sam Cooke.
"Oh my god. This is my parents' song!" She said in a happy way and looked at Tom. "They used to dance this together when they come here." She said and had an idea. She stood up from her seat and Tom looked at her with confusion.
"What are you doing?" He asked and chuckled.
"Dance with me." She said and grinned.
"Really, Y/N?" He asked her and she nodded.
"Come on!" She insisted and grabbed both of his hands to pull him up from his seat. When he stood up, he placed his arms around her waist and Y/N placed her arms around his neck.
"This is nice." That was what Tom could only say when they were swaying around while holding each other. Y/N smiled at him and felt his shyness to dance. "The people won't mind, Tom. Don't be shy." She whispered in her ear.
"Who said that I was?" He asked and Y/N laughed.
"I can read your face, Holland." She said and they continued to dance until the song came to an end. She placed her head on his chest and could hear his heartbeats.
It was beating fast. She thought but she didn't mind it.
After the song ended, Tom guided her back to her seat like a gentleman. He sat back in front of her and was ready to go.
"I'll just pay the bills to your Aunt. I'll be right back." He said.
"I'll wait for you outside," Y/N said and got her stuff and went out of the restaurant first.
When she was outside, she looked at Tom was on the counter and was smiling while talking to her aunt like a real boyfriend he was.
It felt like it was a real date rather than a pretend one. From the dancing, to the opening up with each other and everything else. It was natural for them already.
What is this feeling? She asked herself.
She looked back at Tom who was already waving goodbye to her aunt and went out of the restaurant.
"What did my aunt say to you?" Y/N asked him and just chuckled.
"She asked how old I am." He answered and opened the door to his car for Y/N.
"Such a gentleman." She said and went inside the car.
"So where are we going now?" Y/N asked as Tom was driving.
"My house. I want you to meet my family." The moment he said that Y/N felt her hands shaking.
"W-what?" She asked.
"Yup, just for a while then I'll take you home. All of them are free tonight and tomorrow, they'll be busy again." He said.
Y/N just nodded but could still feel nervous. She had never had a boyfriend and now she's going to meet her pretend boyfriend's parents.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
"Good evening, mum," Tom said to the lady in front of him and she looked at him with a smile.
"Hello, Thomas." She said and noticed Y/N beside him. "Who is this lovely young lady?" She asked.
"Y/N Y/L/N. His girlfriend, Ma'am." Y/N said with a smile.
"Please, call me Nikki. I feel old when you call me Ma'am, honestly." She said.
"Mom, we were just here to drop by. I have to drop her off to her house." Tom said.
"Alright. Please drop by here soon, dear." Nikki said while she looked at Y/N. "It would be nice to have lunch or dinner with you sometime."
"I will definitely drop by soon, Nikki. Tom told me you're a great cook." Y/N said with a smile.
Nikki smiled back and wrapped her arms around Y/N to hug. "You're a great lady, Y/N."
"Thank you, Nikki," Y/N replied and pulled away from the hug to go beside Tom.
"We'll be going now, Mum," Tom said.
"Don't go home too late, darling," Nikki told her son.
"I won't!" He replied and led Y/N back to his car. She waved and smiled one last time to his family before going into the car.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Tom parked his car right in front of Y/N's house and turned off the engine. Y/N removed her seatbelt and opened the door to go out and Tom did the same. They walked together towards the front door and stopped when they've reached there.
Y/N turned to face him and gave him a smile. "Thank you for the date, Thomas."
"You're really going to start calling me by that from now on?" He asked and that made Y/N giggle.
"I'm your girlfriend, so yes." She said and giggled more which made Tom smiled at her. He found her so beautiful when she laughs.
"But seriously though." She tugged a hair behind her ear. "Thank you for taking me to that restaurant and for letting me meet your family." She said.
"You deserve it, love," Tom said and Y/N felt a blush when he called her that endearment.
"I'll get going now, Tom." She said and unlocked the front door with her keys and opened it. Before closing, she turned around to look at him once again. "Good night." She smiled.
"See you in school, love." He said and smiled back.
Before she went in, she suddenly went near Tom and pressed her lips to his right cheek. She gave a smile before going inside her house and closed the front door.
Tom was left dumbfounded by the kiss and touched his right cheek like an idiot. He smiled to himself and chuckled because of her cute action. He finally walked towards his car while Y/N watched him through the window and saw him drive away.
She closed the curtain and walked up towards her room with a smile on her face.
❃ TAGLIST @allthisfortommy @kait4073 @lovebittenbyevans @l0ve-0f-my-life @spiitfiires
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❛ DAD'S LITTLE GIRL ❜
with Jackson ‘Jax’ Teller.
Request: Oh hi baby 😏 can I get a imagine or HC what ever you feel will work for my husband surprising his daughter at college because he missed her (she’s still a daddy’s girl) and he takes her for food and spoils her please 😘
BY @rebelwrites
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Word count: about 700.
Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!
Gif credits: to the author.
Masterlist. You can subscribe to my broadcast list, to be notified whenever I post a writing!
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Sometimes it is too hard to live this far from home.
You miss your home. You miss Charming. And you miss your dad.
It's been almost a month since you were at Charming for the last time, being too occupied with your final exams before ending your first year of college.
Los Angeles isn't too far from your home, but your father can't visit you all the times he would like to do it.
Last night you called him crying. Your grades were good, better than you thought. The last one is in three days and you can't continue studying anymore. Your head is about to explode. You're not sleeping. You're not eating. You're not okay.
You just want to go home and lie down between his arms.
But you have to settle for talking with him by facetime, eating some take away in bed.
“Hey, baby girl”.
“Hi, dad”. You mumble yawning, putting both bluetooth headphones on your ears.
“How you feel today, uh?”
“Not much better”. With crossed arms, you walk through the campus and your head bowed to your feet. “I took a pill, but… it didn't give me any… comfort. I will take another after eating”.
“Are you hungry?”
“Yeah, more or less”.
“And what would you like to eat?”
“Spaghettis? Maybe… with tuna and cheese?” You can hear your father laughing through the headphones, making you smile for a second. That dish is your dad's favorite, always cooking it every Sunday.
“That would be amazing, right?”
“Yep… Maybe you could… make it the next weekend. I'll be leaving for Charming on Friday”
“Anything for you, my baby. But… don't you want it today?”
That question makes you frown confused, turning around over your sneakers and taking off the headphones. Your father is some steps away from you, not wearing his kutte but a big smile. Hanging up the call, pouting at him about to cry, you two walk to each other.
“Come here, baby”.
Opening his arms, he welcomes you against his body.
“Dad is gonna take care of you”. He whispers, hugging you with all his strength.
You have missed to ride with him, as he used to do when you were a kid. Without destination. Without worrying about the hour, or his free time. Being SAMCRO president is not easy.
But today, he has promised you to only worry about you.
He buys the necessary to cook for you, and some junk food is added like chocolate and candies to watch a movie together after having a nap.
You can take a day off, before continuing studying.
You have won over some free time with your dad.
After eating and feeling your stomach filled by a delicious dish of pasta, it's time to catch up on some of your sleep.
He used to call it the boat. When you were little, you used to sleep between his legs curled up, strongly clinged to his waist. And he also used to rock his legs to put you to sleep, as if you were in a crib. At eighteen years old, you are still that kid. That daddy's little girl. With an arm over your back and his other hand tangled in your hair, gently caressing it, you rest your head over your father's torso closing your eyes. It feels like you're at home again, hearing his calmed voice telling you old memories from Charming, from when it was just you two against the world. And you don't need anything else to fall asleep.
When you wake up smelling the sweet aroma of pancakes, Jackson isn't on the sofa, but coming from the kitchen. He knows you well. You can't study having your stomach empty.
You practically devour it, hearing your dad laughing and watching some cartoons on Netflix.
But when the night comes, he has to go.
“Call me when you're back at home”. You say wearing his hoodie of good luck, feeling a little gloomy.
“I will, baby”. He mumbles, kissing your forehead before hugging you tightly. “I will come with the guys to pick you up on Friday, okay? Be ready at three”.
“Okay, dad”.
“I love you, darling. And don't worry, you will pass it”.
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twistedtavern · 2 years
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Early April Writing Prompts!
Fairy tale edition!
~✨🌟🍄🏰🍄🌟✨~
Ask requests can be as simple or as complex as you want, just go ham :3 Remember, no smut, no character x character, no romance with Staff/Lilia/Ortho/Dwarves, and everything else (death, gore, and yandere) is fair game unless I personally just find it gross or in poor taste.
Prompts can be mixed and matched however you want, and you can even cast the boys in their own individual roles if you want to remake a story or make your own based on tropes! I am certainly not picky about how these stories go or are set up, go wild!
~✨🌟🍄Prompts🍄🌟✨~
🐺 The Big Bad Wolf: This could be anything from a a recreation of Little Red Riding Hood/Three Little Pigs/any story featuring the wolf (if you don't think I'll know it, feel free to request anyways. I can just look it up :3) to just applying any other concept associated with the wolf (i.e hunting, deception) to the story. WARNING: THIS PROMPT WILL 99% OF THE TIME LEND ITSELF TO YANDERE/HORROR
✨ Fairy Godmother: Ah, a far more wholesome and widely applicable prompt, but could be used for "if you love them, set them free" angst. I'd like to think this one would be helping the reader get ready for some choice or event or giving them something they need, maybe just a little present they've wanted, or the other way around. Your choice :3
👑 Prince Charming: Exactly what it says on the tin. Your boy is your dashing, handsome (not necessarily literal) prince come to sweep you off your feet. Is he saving you from some sort of danger or the clutches of a yandere, or just carrying you off to ride into the sunset? Does he succeed? Does he have plans to lock you up in a dark tower all his own? It's all up to you >:3
🏰 Damsel in Distress: Oh no! Incoming yandere and hurt/comfort! Someone is in a situation they most certainly do not want to be in, whether it's you or the boys. It could be captivity, bad living situations, or just unlucky scenarios. Do they escape? Tends to go with Big Bad Wolf/Prince Charming
⭐ Wish: Could be in a wishing well, a shooting star, or just confiding your woes to someone who will listen. Just speak your wish, close your eyes, and pray it comes true.
🍎 Poisoned Apple: A curse has been placed on someone, could be any kind of curse. Lighthearted or life-threatening, but a curse all the same. Also applies to any kind of potion, being given an afflicted item, could even be a random spell, not just a curse.
🔔 Happily Ever After: What is a tale without an ending? All the better when it's perfect for one (hopefully more) of the parties involved. Please give me wedding/marital bliss reqs I would cry and absolutely do them
🌟 Free space!: You know the drill, it's free space time! As long as it's even tangentially related to folk or fairy tales, it's fair game. Go crazy go stupid I trust yall
~✨🌟🍄Characters🍄🌟✨~
All characters (except those mentioned above) are fair game! Canon or one of my aus, send them my way! I'll write for Shining Wonderland, Self Aware AU, Reverse AU, if I've mentioned them in a post before, you can request them.
Have fun!!!! 🌟
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hollanderfangirl · 4 years
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Let me go |Harry Holland|
Pairing: Harry Holland x Therapist! Reader
A/N: so I'm not a therapist and I've never been to therapy, well if you don't consider the sessions with my psychology teacher. All of what I've written comes from what I've learnt in psychology class, reading books and listening to other people's experiences.
Warnings: talk about death, panic attack and it's just really sad
Word count: 3.3k, this is my longest fic yet :)
(Sorry for the shitty moodboard I just had to post this fic or I would have lost my mind)
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Harry Holland walked through the halls of the clinic, not really sure why he was here. Well he knew why he had come to see a therapist but he wondered how he put himself in this situation. He had been locking himself inside a glass cave built out of hopelessness for months, his friends and family were greatly concerned about him but he refused to take any help. He had always been stubborn, he never asked for anybody's help. He hated the look of pity on people's faces. He hated people showing him sympathy. He was more than this. He didn't need anybody. He can pull himself together, he just needed time.
But it wasn't helping. Burying your feelings in has never helped anybody. Putting on a smile everyday in front of people and crying himself to sleep, Harry found it more and more difficult. His mum had sensed it and told him to go and see a doctor. He had resisted it at first. 
"Please do it for me, Harry. I cannot see you like this, at least for my satisfaction," Nikki had said. "Just go for a trial session and if you like it then you can continue," but of course he wasn't going to continue. 
Now as he stood in front of the receptionist, he was reconsidering his decision. 
"Yes, do you have an appointment, sir?" 
"Huh?" he seemed lost. "Yeah..yeah" 
"Just wait here, I'll inform Dr Y/l/n" 
"Your know what, cancel the appointment. I- I don't need help" 
"Oh but this is just a trial, Mr Holland" 
"Yeah but I don't-" the receptionist was already at the door, muttering something to the woman inside. 
You step outside to see a curly headed man, he looked pleasant but his eyes looked sad. Those were the eyes of a person who had seen immense grief, someone who had been miserable for a long long time. 
"I'm sorry but I don't need therapy… I didn't realise this before, I -I shouldn't have come here" 
"Oh Mr Holland, this is just a trial right? Let's just have some coffee. This isn't therapy yet" you smile at him. 
"No I really-" 
"Okay then, give me half an hour. If you still feel the same way, then you can leave. Half an hour is all I want from you, Mr Holland" 
"Alright" 
You lead him into your chamber, closing the door behind you. He sits down on a couch across from you, your desk separating you both. The first step of therapy- resistance. People always resist therapy at first, they feel like they don't need the help or maybe seeking help makes them weak. They don't feel like opening up to a complete stranger. How can they? How can they open up their most vulnerable state to a person who they barely know? But slowly and steadily, a rapport is made. A therapist has to be very careful and empathetic. They have to be trusting. Someone who people can turn to. Someone who they can relate to. Someone who understands them. Someone who would just listen. 
"So, your mother sent you here. Right, Mr Holland?" 
"Just- just call me Harry" 
"Okay then Harry, tell me" 
"What do you want me to tell you?" 
"Everything. Start from the beginning" 
"Well I- do you… do you really think I would-" he hesitates. "Who do you think you are? Why do you think I should pay you to listen to my goddamn life story here?" 
"You're not here to tell me your life story," you say politely. "I'm here to help you and I can do that only if you would let me" 
"Well guess what? You cannot help me, I knew I was wasting my time," he gets up and starts to walk away. 
"I asked for half an hour of your time, Harry" 
"Well I don't fucking care" 
"Harry, please listen to me. All I ask is half an hour" 
Little did he know, this half an hour was going to change his life. 
Something about your tone made him stay. He sat back down on the couch, turning away from you. 
"Okay, so if you're not going to talk, I will," you sigh. "So, you have suffered a great loss, someone you loved dearly?" 
"Yes," he still didn't look you in the eye. 
"Who was it?" 
"My…my friend. Girlfriend" 
"And when did this happen?" 
"A year ago" 
"How have you been holding up?" 
He thought of giving another vague answer. How the fuck do you think I'm holding up? I'm fucking dying every single day. 
"Uh- it's been a little better, I guess. It's not as bad as it used to be" 
"Well that's a start. And do you still think about her?" 
Every goddamn minute, lady. What do you want from me? "Yeah sometimes" 
"And how have you been sleeping?" 
I can't sleep. I haven't slept properly for months. If I sleep I see her coming back to me. "Alright I guess" 
This wasn't going anywhere. You thought of recommending him another doctor but something about him charmed you. He was a man who should have been living a great life but his grief was tearing him apart. You had to help him. You felt a strong connection to him, you felt determined. No, I have to help him. I just have to.
"Harry, do you feel like you're responsible for your girlfriend's death?" it was a straightforward question, you had been trying to get something out of him but he wasn't ready to. 
He looked at you dead in the eye, yet could not get any words out. You could sense the anger building up inside him but it wasn't projected at you, he was angry with himself. 
"I….. " he took a few deep breaths, clenching his hands into fists. "Yes" 
"Why is that so?" 
"Fucking hell! Are you for real? She died, okay? And I wasn't there… I wasn't there.. " he was tearing up. "I should have been the one to die! Not her! Not anybody! Everyone just leaves me in the end!" he was full on shouting, letting out everything he had been holding inside himself for a whole year. He had tears in his eyes.
You handed him a box of tissues and he was gasping for breath. When he had calmed down, you both sat in silence for a few minutes. 
"You know, Harry, my friend died the day we had a fight. She was my best friend. I knew her ever since we were three. It was a silly argument. We should not have fought about it. But we did and I told her I wished she would just go away… and then she did" it was painful for you to remember this, but time does heal everything. 
"I'm sorry," his voice was low. "And I'm sorry for all those things I said" 
"No it's alright, that's what you're here for. And besides, it's nothing compared to your loss, Harry" 
"No. It- it's not a competition. Suffering is not a competition. It must've been really hard for you, Dr y/l/n," this was the first time he had addressed you. 
"Call me y/n," you smile at him. "And yeah that's very true. We often blame ourselves, you know, it's very common. We cannot be angry at them so we get angry with ourselves. Even though we know deep in our hearts that there was nothing we could have done" 
There was a long silence. 
"She went out for a drive, that bastard drunk driver," he spoke up. "And I was just resting. She asked me so many times to join her but I wanted to sleep" 
You nod at him and he continued. "That's…the reason I'm not able to sleep. Every night I close my eyes, I think I'll wake up to that phone call" 
"Well yes I don't blame you, our brains sometimes don't process things that come as a shock. And then it just keeps on haunting us forever. Do you believe in life after death, Harry?" 
"Well I don't know what to believe" 
"Have you- felt her? After she was gone?" 
"You'll think I'm crazy" 
"I'm a therapist, it'll take you much more than that to convince me you're crazy" 
"I sometimes talk to her. Like what would she think about this particular situation. Or just that I miss her so much. I don't get any responses but I just try to think like her?" 
"Yeah, that's quite normal actually. People think they need to 'get over' someone's death. But that's not true. You can never really get over something like death" 
"And what does getting over even mean? Like you just forget them? Moving on with your life just means that you think they were never a part of it" 
"Well you're both right and wrong. Yes we must remember our loved ones who are not with us anymore but at the same time, we have to let them go" 
"How? It's too painful" 
"I know. But do you believe in the concept of souls, Harry?" 
"Yeah I mean," he shrugs. 
"The soul is considered to be immortal. And groups of souls tend to travel together. Even if you don't know it, some way, somehow, they're always with us" 
He says nothing but his eyes looked softer now. 
"And just think about it, think of her seeing you like this. Do you think she could have handled you being so miserable?" 
"She would have been heartbroken" 
"Exactly. So do it for her, for yourself. For both of you to feel peace again" 
"Yeah" 
You look at your watch. Half an hour was up. 
"So, Harry. Your half an hour is up. Is there anything else?" 
"Yes, um we can talk about it in our next session?" 
You smile at him. "Of course" 
                          ----------------
After that one half an hour session, Harry was a changed man. He was still mourning, he was still miserable but he had hope. For the first time in a long time, he thought he could actually go on with his life, he could finally feel peace.
The week went by smoothly. Harry tried to make himself busy, by surrounding himself with people and always working. He was still getting nightmares but he was determined to sleep. He was sleeping light, afraid of what deep sleep might show him.
Meanwhile your life was exactly the same, you went on with your day treating people, talking, helping them. You loved your job, you loved the sense of satisfaction you got after patients they told you they were finally better. Every person was a challenge, and you knew there was a gem hidden inside every one of them. All of them had immense potential but life hadn't been kind to them. You felt disturbed and it broke your heart to see people hurting. And you would do anything to make it better for them. To help them.
You couldn’t keep Harry out of your mind. You were thinking about him all day long, awaiting your next session with him. What if he cancels? What can I do if he does? Why am I thinking about him? He had this air around him, a magnetic pull, which was pulling your closer and closer towards him. And why is he so damn attractive? No I should not think about him that way. It was the first and foremost rule of your profession. Never get emotionally attached with your clients. It was a professional relationship and must remain that way.
When he came into your office the following week, you could sense the change in him. You felt proud that a single session made such a difference. There was no arrogance in him, he didn’t seem angry anymore. He was calm and better.
“So, Harry. How was your week?”
“It was good, I’ve been shooting my new short film and it’s coming out to be okay so far”
“Alright and how have you been sleeping?”
“Not that good to be honest. I still get dreams, uh bad dreams”
“What do you see in these dreams?”
“I see the accident scene….again and again, it’s the same dream. Sometimes I see her, she talks to me and all that”
“Hmm and have you talked to your family? Your friends?”
“Yeah I talked to my mum…and my brother”
“What did they say?”
“They said they are here for me and will always love me”
“Yes and I don’t doubt that, Harry. You have a lot of people in your life who love and support you. Embrace that”
The session went by smoothly, he opened up to you about his life, everything about the girl he loved so much. About his family, his career. You found yourself staring at him, taking glances at his hands which he constantly moved while he talked. You noticed he was shaking his leg the whole time. Stop staring, y/n.
Wow she’s so beautiful. And thoughtful. And funny and understanding. What am I doing? She’s my therapist….but…why couldn’t I have met her before? Why didn’t I meet her when I was normal? Would things have been different? But then again, I would have never met her if I was normal.
Things seemed to get better, as the weeks progressed, Harry was becoming more and more like his old self again. But there was a feeling of regret, he thought this was wrong as if he were forgetting her. But you were there to guide him, to tell him that this is what life is. It never stops. No matter what happens, you will heal. Someday, sometime. And each day we progress towards it.
And then it happened. The call came at 1 am in the morning. You were sleeping and you were tired, you had been working all day and just needed some rest. You wouldn't have picked the call up but something told you it was important. That you should pick it up.
“Hello?” you yawn.
You just hear muffled breathing for a few seconds.
“Hello? Who is it?”
“It…it’s me…Harry”
“Harry, what’s wrong?” you thought what could have happened at this time of the night.
“I just- can you-” he sounded like he was choking.
“Harry what’s wrong, you’re scaring me”
“I… can’t… breathe,” you hear him sobbing. ”I had… that… dream, I feel like I’m…going to…die”
“Harry, listen to me. You will be okay. Yeah? Just take deep breaths and sit tight. I’m coming to you”
You search through his file to look for his address. When you find it, you rush through the front door and drive to his house. You were on the phone with him the whole drive.
“Just keep breathing, Harry. Deep breaths, okay?”
To your surprise, the front door was unlocked. It looked like he had gone out into the street in the middle of the night. You search through rooms to find him, and you see him curled into a ball at the corner of a king size bed. You touch his shoulder and he flinches.
“Hey, hey it’s just me. It’s alright”
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know who else to call,” he was crying, with the tears streaming down his cheeks, his eyes looked small and they looked red from the lack of sleep and of tears.
“It’s alright, Harry. Just come here, it’ll be alright,” you pull him towards yourself him and he buries his face into your chest and you held him, stroking his hair and telling him it will be alright.
“That’s it. Let it out, Harry. It’s okay to cry”
You both stayed like that for another 15 minutes. He couldn’t stop crying and you knew he needed that. He had been holding everything in for so long and it just came out like an explosion tonight. You wiped his tears and made him meditate for a few minutes.
He fell asleep and you stayed up all night, looking at him. He looked so innocent while he slept, and cute too, you thought hiding a blush, even though nobody was there to look at you.
That night, Harry finally felt at peace. He was finally able to sleep. He had no nightmares, just a peaceful dream. He saw his girlfriend, running away from him in a white dress with her hair flowing in the wind.
Please don’t leave me, darling. I love you.
I know you do Harry, but you must let me go. I will always be with you. I will always love you. It is time you start caring about yourself, you must let me go. It is time.
No! don’t leave me!
And he woke up. Something about this dream told him that she was right. It was time. He was finally ready to let her go. For both of their sakes.
He went down to find you sleeping on the couch. He was hesitant at his thoughts but deep down he knew he was falling for you. Am I just using her to cope with my loss? Or do I really love her?
You opened your eyes, looking at Harry sitting on the ground, pushing a strand of hair away from your face.
“Good morning, how did you sleep?”
“Better. Really really better. I- I don’t know how to thank you, y/n and I’m so sorry”
“Hey it’s alright, and I’m glad I could help,” you smile. “I should go now, I have to get to work”
“Let me make breakfast and let me drive you to your house”
“Oh no it’s okay I can-”
“I owe this much to you, y/n. Let me”
“Okay”
                              -----------------
It wasn’t until another week when Harry had his next session. You had been thinking about him all the time, you were confused, it wasn’t supposed to go this way. But he….who am I kidding I’m in love with him.
When he walked through the door on a Thursday morning next week, he looked healthy and happier than ever. You felt a sense of happiness yourself, therapy is always beneficial to both the patient and the therapist. Every person is a deep universe, their thoughts, experiences, pain, joy, everything. Empathising with clients is a great learning experience, it becomes a part your personality. It becomes a part of you.
“Hey y/n”
“Hi Harry”
“So my week as been as it’s always and I’ve been feeling a lot better ever since that day…and that dream” he had told you about the dream he had the night you watched him sleep. He seemed to completely change after that, he let go of the intense emotions he had been carrying around.
“That’s very good and you’ve made a lot of progress since our first meeting”
“Yeah…I have”
The session went on as usual, he talked about everything that happened, he started fighting with his brothers again, which he hadn’t done in a long time and even though they were pissed off at him, they were happy to have him back.
“Um Harry,” you say at the end of the session. “I think-” you try to choose your words correctly. “I think it’s about time you start seeing another therapist, yeah?”
You see his face drop. “wh-why? I’m doing so much better, is..is it because of that night? I’m so sorry y/n”
“No it’s not that. You and I both know what’s happening between us, it’s wrong for a therapist to get emotionally attached with her patient. I’m sorry, Harry”
“So you’re saying that you’re becoming emotionally attached with me?”
“I..I’m-“
“It’s alright. I understand y/n”
“Yes, thank you. This has been great”
“So… now that you’re not my therapist, can I meet you for coffee this evening?”
“Harry-“
“Half an hour, Dr y/l/n. Just give me half an hour of your time, if you still feel the same way, I’ll never bother you again”
“Uh-" you hesitate. You knew you should have said no. You were going to say no. Yet the words which came out of your mouth were “Okay then, it’s a date”
--------------
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dreamiesdotcom · 3 years
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rule #6 | l.dh
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Summary: With Donghyuck, growing to love feels like a black hole, but not the depressing kind. Rather, it's something hard to get away from — like a force, a very strong force that allows no escape, and it's incredibly luminous as if going supernova.
Word Count: 3.5k
a/n: hi, this is moon from somewhere august, scheduling this post before i chicken out again :D by the time it's posted, it's already Christmas so,,, merry christmas y'all who celebrate!!!! Lots of love!!!
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Just like most things involving Donghyuck, falling in love with him isn't such a good idea.
That was way too sped up, though. The best way to start this story, of course, is from the very beginning— the day human migraine number one (a.k.a Jaemin) decided to bring in evil genius Huang Renjun to the circle. That would've been fine. It just so happened that beside him sat the devil incarnate, Lee Donghyuck, and that, well, is totally all four directions far away from what's acceptable.
Rule number one to surviving this life thing: Never trust cute boys with sunshine smiles and mischief in their eyes, a.k.a Donghyuck, or Haechan, whatever name he decided to go by. That's why when he reaches his hands out over the table to your direction, you quickly dismiss his attempt — "Hi! I haven't met you yet, did you skip first period? You're Y/N, ri—"
"Please never speak to me." was your reply then, and human migraine number two (a.k.a Chenle) laughs. Jaemin nags for the rest of the break, talking about manners and getting along. The fools nod alongside him. You grumble, moody for no reason and feeling particularly mean, but you warmly smile at Mark when he arrives at your table. Somewhere along the lines, you met stares with the new boy, and you give him an indifferent look.
Donghyuck took the nonchalance as a challenge.
###
The following weeks have been infuriating.
Rule #2: At all times, seek Lee Jeno's company. Unreliable as he seems when it comes to patience, the boy is quite reasonable sometimes.
Your windows align with the sweet-faced boy, your roofs almost touching — if you tried hard enough, you two could sit together, side by side, just like this. Cold wind blows, but it doesn't make you shiver. Jeno's warm, and maybe that's why you love cuddling with him so much. Maybe.
Just maybe, that could be the reason.
"I can't hear what you're saying," he slowly says, laughter seeping through his lips. You whine at that, moving away so he could see you and you could speak clearly. His hand remains holding your chin up, endearing in a soft way, but it doesn't wash away your frown. "What were you saying?"
You groan, "I said, he's so annoying! The audacity, Lee Jeno, he had the audacity to call me ba—"
Jeno watches you with tender eyes. Your heart softens, and you forget whatever next words you had to say. Maybe things will be okay? He's here, after all. Just right next door.
At least, something is going right.
###
This new boy, it seems, is appealing to many. During his first week, people have constantly trying to 'show him around', and that excuse doesn't die down until one month. From then on, people just keep following him around with "Good morning, Haechan!", "Goodbye, Haechan!" and "How was the weekends for you, Haechan-ssi?"
To be honest, it's something you had to grow used to even way before the showed up. Having Na Jaemin and Mark Lee from the Basketball team in your circle just really has a way of putting the spotlight on your lunch table. Not to mention, Renjun, Jeno, and Jisung, who despite being quiet, just has a certain charm to them — Jaemin's words, not yours. And oh, don't even get started on Chenle. That boy is a social butterfly.
The difference is that he keeps entertaining them, unlike the others who awkwardly laughs or just greets back — safe to say that sometimes, the 'goodness' of his heart gets in the way of your education and daily life. Times just like this.
Jisung's name shines brightly at the top of the list. You cling to the boy excitedly, pinching his cheeks and slightly bouncing on your heels, "You made it on the dance team, Sungie! Oh my God, oh my Go—"
"Y/N..." he drawls out, both hands resting on your shoulder as if to calm you down, but the excitement in his eyes betrays his intentions. On the other side, Renjun waves at you with the others. It makes you chuckle, and you motion for them come — that is, of course, until someone pushes you, almost sending you to the ground if not for Jisung catching you midfall.
The girl furrows her brows, "Move, you're blocking the way."
Your palms itch at that moment, and you couldn't believe just what you heard — the nerve!
"Where's your manners?" rings Donghyuck's voice from where he's slowly making way towards you with the others, a grimace on each of their faces. Attitude seeps from his gaze, the kind that would've made someone quiver. "Don't go around pushing people."
"Wh—"
"Stop." you clench your hands to fists, thanking Jisung before straightening up. Through gritted teeth, you calmly look at the girl with a scowl on her face. "Look, I'm sorry, but can you politely ask me to move next time? That's be appreciated, thank you."
After bidding the others a small smile, you turn around to make your way to the library. What? For peace? For space? Just to be as far away from the boy following you right now as possible? You don't even know at this point. You feel like your celebration is ruined and all you want is distance from the person you dislike the most — to be honest, you don't know anything about him aside from the fact that he's Lee Donghyuck and that he's annoying, and that you automatically hate him. You don't plan on knowing more. That's why before entering the library, you turn around to face him with a solemn look.
"Thank you." he halts in shock. His smile widens, but you look at him with the same seriousness in your face. "But don't do it again. I don't need saving, Lee Donghyuck."
Later that night, you grit your teeth as you write down another rule: Say your gratitude but don't get used to the way he saves you. You're not a damsel. Just hand the goddamn sword or you'll be fine with your fists — maybe your eyes for daggers, too.
####
Rule #3: Never go to him for comfort.
22nd of April, 10:35 p.m. You close your eyes and wait. The clock hits eleven and you open the door for the others, greeting everyone with a cheerful smile. "Where's Jaemin?"
Mark shrugs, "Said he has an essay. He'll be late for a bit, but he'll make it before 12."
23rd of April, 12:00 a.m, your heartbeat races. Everything's all set, everyone's in the living room. You take out your phone with a giggle, typing out 'Happy Birthday, dummy!!!' with the biggest grin on your face. Jisung judges you slightly, but he quickly forgets it when a taunting yell from Renjun comes. You sit in the kitchen, staring at the delicately decorated cake, and you wait.
One hour turns to two, then three. Your smile fades slightly, and you check your phone for replies. When nothing comes, you click over his contact shakily.
To: Star <3
Happy Birthday, dummy!!!
Hey, Jen? You're one door away from me and yet you're an hour late.
Birthday boy, you're not ditching us on your own celebration, aren't ya?
When are you coming over ;-;
From: Star <3
I'm sorry!!!
Sorry but I'll be late!
Jaeminnie really needs my help with something.
We'll be there! I'm sorry, Y/N
Your smile disappears. Sullenly making your way to the living room, you count your steps to keep your ground. You look at the others in front of you with a smile, "Go start the movie, I'll wait for Jeno and Jaemin outside. Deal?"
"Sure." Chenle chirps, his grin never fading. Must be because of cheating his way through besting Jisung, Donghyuck, Mark, and Renjun at Monopoly for the past three hours, probably ruining their friendship. Oblivious to the world, Renjun grumbles something about Jeno never being punctual, that he'd pray that trait onto him as a birthday gift. You glance at them before heading back outside, sitting down outside your door, head in between your knees.
A tear. Maybe two. Is this how heartbreak feels like? The kind of crying where you can't even make a sound because people could hear, but then even your teardrops seem to be so loud.
The door opens and you put your head up, hurriedly wiping them away. You put on your best smile until Donghyuck occupies the space beside you. He hands you a handkerchief.
"Don't," he whispers when you obviously hold down a sob, and he leans you on his chest. You cry freely there — you don't know why you let him of all people, but all you know was that you couldn't think straight; desperation blooms on your chest like fresh flowers die over time, and he doesn't judge. He just holds you — no cheesy pet name, no flirty looks, no catch. Just someone to be with.
At 4 a.m with Lee Donghyuck, the starless sky and the moon all alone looks a little less lonely. In front of you, the sun begins to rise.
##
Rule #4: Aaaaand if you don't follow the preceding rule, then, you're fucked. This is your mess. Good luck, you're alone on this one.
After Jeno's birthday (and after he made up to you, he spent a month doing that.) something just begins to change. A pleasant shift, according to Mark.
From that day, something in you says that maybe, just maybe, he's not so bad and you were just unfair to him. This realization must be something brought by time; slowly, you got used to Renjun and Hyuck being a part of your circle. These tutoring sessions must be a factor as well, judging how to two get to spend time alone in the same table as you can't possibly study with the others around you.
Donghyuck would do anything to evade mathematics, though. At least that's what it looks like right now, as he doodles around the margins instead of solving the problems, and then opens a topic, "Nana and Jisung looks cute together. Should've known they wouldn't be serious with each other, him and Jeno."
You roll your eyes, but not the way you did back then. It's way softer, much more affectionate. "It's been a year, let them be."
"So what? It's only been a year." he seems really determined to waste time. He even makes a show of briefly making eye contact before pouting at the paper, "You and Jeno still pretend to be just friends, but the whole school's just waiting for you two to kiss."
You chuckle, "We don't."
"You do."
"Used to." you correct. You look over to the other table, Jaemin and Jeno throwing a banter while Jisung begs them to stop before Renjun smacks them all with a book. You gaze down the notes you're studying before shrugging, "Things change."
"Example?" he tentatively asks, absentmindedly tracing the letters and numbers scattered around his notebook. You rest your chin on your palm.
"Well, now, I might like you." because honestly, you do. He's a great company, although sometimes overwhelming and annoying. Especially that most of the time when he's with Jaemin, they brew the worst ideas together and it's pretty much storm from there.
It would be a lie to say that it's not one of the things that makes you feel warm, slowly growing fond. Your voice softens as he tilts up to meet your gaze, and you flash him a saccharine smile. "Soon, it might not be because you're my friend."
Things like this make you feel like you've missed everything with Jeno, all the things you both could've had; it's like you should've been like this. It's like you should've been holding hands, or walking down the streets, or sitting on a rooftop and asking for a kiss. The kind that would send a rush of energy on your veins, shaking you back to life, losing you to the dream that is the way his lips move against you. But best friends don't do that, so you don't.
Hyuck is not Jeno, though. He's not your best friend.
With Donghyuck, growing to love feels like a black hole, but not the depressing kind. Rather, it's something hard to get away from — like a force, a very strong force that allows no escape, and it's incredibly luminous as if going supernova.
###
Rule #5: Well, seems like you can't back out now. Love him. Love him so much that the sunshine in his eyes never fades.
"Why are we celebrating Mark's last day in town?" Donghyuck sits down in the living room, looking around at the place — balloons, snacks, a cake, everyone in your friend group. He sets down his gift, "Are we that glad that he's leaving?"
Mark huffs, "You'd fucking cry once you miss me and I'm cities away, Lee Donghyuck."
"I won't miss you because I'm coming over to your dorm every day and I'm dragging everyone with me." Donghyuck smiles and even when Mark shoves him a little at that, everyone knows that he's happy the younger said that. He flashes his sly smile, "You, however... ah, what do we do? Mark might miss me so much he fails three subjects."
Everyone cackles at that, and Mark only raises his arms at surrender, saying something about not joking like that because he's honestly 'terrified to start hell', wanting to just stay here and finish school with all of you, ranting about how troublesome it is to transfer. You lean back on your loveseat, lightly kicking Hyuck's feet. "What?"
"You talk like this but you'd sulk tomorrow, wouldn't you?" You taunt, snickering. "This is false advertising."
Donghyuck gapes as the others fall over laughing. "Oi, are you trying to help me fill out all the ten reasons I hate you?"
"You have only ten for me?" you add, and for some reason, that makes the others laugh harder. "I have a hundred for you, Hyuckie."
"I could write you thousands—"
Jeno scrunches his face, hands moving to cover Donghyuck's mouth. "Just please go kiss each other."
Donghyuck tears away from his hold, rolls his eyes, and waves goodbye. He tugs you away from Jaemin and then leads you upstairs, but not before one last banter with Jeno, who, in his all confused expression, tilts his head in question, "Ya, where are you going?"
"I'm not kissing Y/N in front of you fools."
And true to his word, that's what he does.
Donghyuck smiles like the world is kind, like unending unconditional love, without boundaries nor fears. He kisses like that, too, passionate and deep. He does it like it's the end of the world, as if it's the only thing he wants to do. He does it like he's thanking every single thing that led him up to this moment. He kissed you under those stars in his balcony, a hand warm on your waist with the other softly caressing your jaw, and it seemed like it lasted forever.
Because that's the truth. The last time never feels like the last time. There had to be more to this than what the skies have laid down.
Inside your dreamy little mind, Donghyuck was eternal and the love you shared was forever. That's what happened. You thought you had forever.
You thought you had forever, but you didn't.
###
Rule #6: But that won't make him stay if he's bound to leave. Accept that and love him, still. Love him through the rain.
"Lee Jeno tripped!" yells Chenle's loud voice, gaining the attention of everybody in the room, "And fell in love with Y/N, totally whipped that they can't even shop separately!"
"Hell, Chenle, where's your mute button?" Renjun hissed, "We gotta buy presents too. Who decided to do this so late, though? It's the 24th! You guys should've done it weeks ago!"
"Let's go?" Jeno asks, blatantly ignoring Renjun as he waits for you to take his hands. You smirk, waving the folded paper to the others after entwining fingers with him.
"Bye, losers! See y'all later~" you wink. Before being dragged out the Cafe, you point at your friends' direction "Whoever had my name better give me a decent gift, or Christmas is cancelled!"
"Baby, stop that," he asks, squeezing your hands to make you calm down. Your laugh even louder. He smiles, "Who did you get?"
"Hey, Lee, you don't get special treatment just because I'm dating you. It's a secret." you roll your eyes, a skip in your step even though the weather is cold. Jeno steals a peck on your cheeks, and your eyes widen. "Lee Jeno!"
Before you could even catch him, he's already running away from you, and you're almost falling over laughing as you try to catch up to him. He meets you at the end, in front of a busy mall, and catches you with a hug. You laugh on his chest, warm against his hold.
If memories come washing over you, no one has to know. Jeno looks lovely against white. He feels like art on a Christmas day, so beautiful and warm and special. That's all that matters.
"We agreed that we wouldn't try..." Donghyuck whispers, arms around you, "if things will get too harsh on the other, didn't we?"
"Yeah... if I was to leave, Hyuck, I don't want you waiting on me." you responded, half-asleep and sincere, "But I'm only saying it because I'm not leaving."
Donghyuck laughed, "Well, just making sure that if that happens, we'll meet again, yeah?"
"Hyuck, shut up. Nobody's leaving." you groaned, stirring at the joyful yelling downstairs. "Looks like it's 12 already. Merry Christmas, baby."
"Mhm, Merry Christmas. I love you." He smiles, leaves a slow, gentle kiss on your lips. "I love you. I'll love you even more this year."
Does moving away without a word count as loving someone more than you did the past year?
"You're spacing out." Jeno smiles, "Am I that handsome?"
"You always are. Stunning." you quickly reply, a little guilty. You enter the busy room and part ways so that you could shop for your gifts, but not before deciding on a meeting point and leaving a sweet, loving kiss. "Come back, yeah?"
"Of course." he nods before parting ways. Your heart remains at peace — as planned, at the end of the day, Jeno would come back to you at the entrance. He won't leave like the other did. He won't do that to you...
Two hours before Christmas, you sit down on your own for a bit, occasionally distracted by the noise. At their loudness, you can make out Mark trying to calm everybody down, Jaemin threatening murder to keep Jisung and Mark away from the kitchen, Jeno convincing Chenle to get a dog. As you write down their yearly letters, you can't get rid of the smile on your face.
Why they decided to spend this holiday at yours, you don't really understand. Can't say you're against it, though. It's perfect; the tree all of you built together, the presents, the games you'll spend the night playing. The friendship.
Only that someone's missing. As if to lessen the pain, you write his name down on the paper — except it's not a new one, but rather, the page you've been foolishly writing your rules on; the rules that never stood a chance to save you. You trace your hands over the words, but you quickly shake nostalgia away as you turn the page over.
Hello, Donghyuck-ah!
You know the drill. For some time, you received some of my letters, didn't you? After all, we spent some years together... as enemies, as friends, as lovers. You probably memorized how it goes: I'll dwell on the year, I'll tell you how I chose your gift, I'll try to say how much I adore you, and then I'll thank you for being here.
Unfortunately this time, I can't tell you how our year went... I didn't spend it with you. I wasn't able to get you a gift, too, because I don't know if your preferences changed. And I can't thank you for being here. I can't because you're not.
Though I could still tell you that I love you, now it's kind of different. It's less of something that desperately needs you, and more of the kind that longs for you. Jeno and I got together at last. It's complicated how we happened, but we gave it a try and... just. That. You won't read this, but I still want you to know... even if this will never reach you.
Remember that we said that we'll meet again? Well, where are you? Are you happy? How's life been, miles away from home, from your friends, Hyuck-ah?
Merry Christmas. I hope you're happy.
I hope you are, of course, I do. I want you to be happy, I do. I can't wish for anything more — I want you to be happy... just that I hope you're sad sometimes, too, just like me... because of me. I want your heart to break sometimes too. I want you to cry sometimes too. In those empty spaces, I want you to remember me.
And I know you won't do any of that, but in my twisted imagination, you do. And you are.
You're the happiest you could be, but not that much — not happy enough that you'd forget me.
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midnxghtsunwrites · 3 years
Text
SMOKESTACKS | 16, NO MORE SURPRISES
previous post
warning: ⚠ domestic abuse ahead ⚠
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FOR THE SIXTH TIME IN TWO hours, Nadine's phone blares its annoying ringtone. She could only assume that those calls are coming from the same people she's been avoiding for the past week. Nadine has managed to take the week off of work to avoid seeing Gemma and/or Jax.
Now, she's sat in a bar on a Friday night, sipping on a gin and tonic and bobbing her head to the music playing over the speakers.
She glances at her screen to see the familiar name pop up.
Jackson Teller.
She was in her feelings when she changed his name in her phone and she doesn't see herself changing it back in the near future. Honestly, she doesn't know what to do. It seems impossible to avoid these people considering everywhere she turns, someone associated with the club is in her face.
Of course, her friendship with Lyla was the only constant and based on the fact that the porn star brings up Jax in every one of their conversations, he knows it too. Does she want to just wait it out until they're tired of trying to reach out to her or does she try to make another getaway?
She just got here and she loves her job and her kids and she already can't imagine leaving them.
Guess she'll have to suck it up.
"I really can't tell if you're drunk or just vibing," The voice belongs to a black woman who'd been sitting beside Nadine for the better part of thirty minutes. She has an eyebrow raised and a glass of scotch raised to her lips, "Or both."
Nadine shakes her head in amusement, "Definitely both." Sticking a hand out, she introduces herself, "Nadine."
"Amelia." The woman shakes the teacher's hand, "Why haven't I seen you around before?"
"That is a great question," Nadine jokes as she sips her drink. She's barely tipsy, which is far from where she wants to be. The conversation continues to flow as the woman is drowned out by Nadine's phone blaring obnoxiously for the third time in ten minutes, the teacher ignoring every call.
Noting this, Amelia tilts her head in interest, "Boyfriend?"
The teacher scrunches her face at the thought, "Nope."
"Girlfriend?"
"I wish."
"Almost boyfriend?"
At Amelia's teasing tone, Nadine rolls her eyes in amusement, "Definitely not."
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NADINE WAS DOWN THREE GLASSES of whiskey before she felt the effects of the alcohol on her senses. She giggles, fruitlessly as she tries to drink from her glass only to miss completely and basically pour it down her shirt.
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Amelia bursts out into laughter, drunk to her ass. The women had been drowning themselves in tequila shots — for reasons they choose not to admit. Apparently, Amelia has lived in Charming her whole life — she's an OR nurse at St. Thomas's Hospital and extremely talented when it comes to her job.
Nadine didn't get much more than that.
"Oh, crap," Nadine snorts as the woody aroma from the alcohol wafts to her nostrils.
Amelia points in amusement, her eyes squinted as a loud laugh escapes her, "You smell like a bar!"
The teacher nods and leans back on her stool, almost falling on her back, "That's 'cause we're in a bar, silly!"
Staggering forward, Nadine peers through the mirrored wall behind the shelves of alcohol — the clear space allows her to look at the rest of the bar patrons behind her. She takes note of the large spot on her grey shirt and groans, exaggeratedly as she throws her head back.
Luckily, drunk Nadine still has some sort of logical reasoning, "I'll be right back — I gotta clean this up before it stains."
Amelia just tilts the rim of her glass of scotch towards the teacher and sends her a dopey smile, "Have fuuun." She sings, joyfully.
"I willll," Nadine mimics as she throws cash for the drinks on the bar counter.
Fortunately, the dark spot hadn't dried in the time it took Nadine to go through the line of women standing outside of the bathroom. A lack of stalls seemed to be the verdict for the long queue. Standing there in the bathroom, she hovers over the sink, wiping a damp paper towel over her tank top.
The stain is almost out — the woody smell being replaced by stale tap water. She should've just kept the stain there if that's the case.
Suddenly, it's like time stops. Chills run down her back and the hairs on the back of her necks rise. Goosebumps line her arms as she furrows her eyebrows. There's a sinking feeling in her gut — so deep that Nadine is knocked out of her drunken stupor and forced to grab on to the ceramic sink.
Almost as if she could predict it, there's a knock on the door. Nadine blinks profusely and calls to the person, "Someone's in here." That doesn't make the person on the other side back off — no, instead, the doorknob that was once locked is twisted and pushed open.
So much for locking the door. She ponders.
The figure that enters is tall — and so familiar. It's too dark for her to see a face but for a moment, Nadine assumes that Jax found her. She didn't put it past him considering he has so many connections that probably tipped him off and she doesn't put it past him to break down any barriers between them.
This leads her to her beginning sentence, "You don't have to check up on me, Jax. I just need time to myself."
As the figure steps closer, Nadine's breath hitches in her throat. Fuck. Tears fill her eyes as she looks upon the man that's caused her so much turmoil for two years. The man she fucking ran away from. Ezra Moore in all his mysterious obscurity stands just feet away from her.
She tries not to let her gaze shift to the pepper spray in her bag.
The man smirks, sadistically as he steps further into the room, almost steps away from his target, "This place should really get some better locks."
As his patronizing tone, Nadine jumps towards her bag on the sink, only to be shoved backward by her assailant. Her back lands against the filthy tiled wall and he holds her there, a grimey hand wrapped around her neck.
There were times when she loved to peer into those chocolate brown eyes — they used to give her a certain comfort. Now, they're the epitome of terrifying.
"What? You thought you could get away from me, you little bitch?" He growls, leaning so close into Nadine that the palm of his hand pushes into her larynx and the stench of cigarettes and nasty beer invades her senses. "No matter how far you go, what name you use, or if you change your phone — I will always fucking find you."
"Please —"
"Shut the fuck up!" He yells into her face, spit flying to land on her cheek (the way my COVID brain just threw up). "You know you can't run from me, Nadine." His voice lowers as he jerks her head to the side and leans towards her ear. His lips wrap around her lobe, bringing tears to her eyes. His grip tightens, taking her breath from her — "You've been a little slut since you left me, haven't you? Fucking Jax Teller? That little biker I've been seeing around here?"
She can't speak. She can't breathe.
Ezra doesn't care.
"Answer me!"
Whipping her head around swiftly, she shakes her head and gapes her mouth, wanting to speak but no words can make it past Ezra's tight grip. Seeing this, he loosens it for a split second so Nadine can muster a small, "No."
That wasn't the answer he was looking for, "Don't fucking lie to me! That's all you've been doing since I met you." He forces her to look at him, frowning for a moment at the sight of tears running down her cheeks, "You're a fucking liar, you know that? And such an actress. Even right now — all these crocodile tears that you've been saving for me. For two years. All that fake love. Did you even love me?"
Nadine watches in pure horror as Ezra's voice breaks and tears begin to fly down his face. This man is insane, she sobs. Thoughts flurry through her mind as his grip loosens significantly. She's so taken aback that even her mind seems to be lagging. She wants to go home where the locks work.
"I did." She whispers, cringing as her voice cracks, "I-I do. I do love you, Ezra." It pains her to speak these lies, but she has to go and the only way to do that is to feed into his crazed actions, "I love you, baby. So much." She lifts a shaky hand to cup his cheeks, willing her tears away at the thought of touching her oppressor. "I'm sorry I left you. I don't know what I was thinking."
Her back stiffens when he falls into her, dropping his head into the crook of her neck. He sobs, savoring the feeling as she runs a hand through his scalp. It was something she did years ago to help him out whenever he had a stressful day — she used to love doing it.
Now, she feels like she needs to take a shower in acid to scrub the feeling of him off.
Her neck is sore when he releases her — surely, she has bruises.
Now is her time to get away — with that thought, she swiftly thrusts her knee up in between his legs and pushes him off of her body. He falls to the floor with a pained groan, cupping his groin.
"You bitch!" He screams at her as she shuffles along quickly to make her getaway. She snatches her bag from the sink, grabs her pepper spray and unleashes hell on the man writhing on the floor. He screams bloody murder before Nadine exits the room, closing the door behind her.
Nadine tries to wipe away the messy mascara under her eyes before heading for the exit of the bar, ignoring as Amelia calls after her.
The teacher drove home in fear that her shaky hands would make her swerve into oncoming traffic. That and her blurry vision, eyes filled to the brim with unshed tears. She's spent too much of her life crying over that man — she'll be damned if he gets anymore from her.
Taking extra precautions, she checks behind her every few seconds to make sure she isn't being tailed — even taking the long way home.
When she arrives at her apartment complex, she double checks the locks on her car before making her way up the stairs, her key already in one hand and her pepper spray in the other. When she sees another figure crouched by her door, the woman jumps. She doesn't want any more surprises tonight.
As she steps closer, arm extended with her pepper spray, her eyes catch sight of the familiar dark hair and the lit end of a cigarette. Nadine holds her breath as she realizes that that cigarette belongs to the woman she's been ignoring for the past week.
With a broken voice, Nadine freezes and whispers, "Gemma?"
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musing-and-music · 3 years
Text
Enough is enough (that's the title of the OS, I'm not venting)
Well, one thing is sure, I didn't know how alive the P&P fandom was before posting that OS on ffnet (yeah, especially on ffnet). But now I know, and I'm happy about that, because I've read many good fics on Pride and Prejudice.
So, this little thing was written (as usual) in French first, on the theme "Epuiser", that means "to exhaust". And poor Jane is exhausted in it, and because of her sisters, she'll snap in a way Lydia and Kitty won't forget easily.
Word count: 743
Humor, family, Jane Bennet snaps
Read on AO3 / Read on FFnet / Read in French
Enjoy!
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Jane hesitated. Both dresses that Hillary had taken out were beautiful. Would it be the silken pearl grey one or the light-yellow mousseline one? She liked both, so after thinking about it for long minutes, she decided to ask Lizzie for her objective opinion. Her sister wasn't in her bedroom, so she looked for her in the living room. The usual order in chaos had disappeared, replaced by an indescribable clutter.
Dresses were lying on armchairs, clothes, needle and jewel boxes, gloves had been thrown carelessly on a table or on the floor, shoes were lying in various places. And her youngest sisters were chatting.
"I tell you, this green dress suits you better, Kitty," Lydia argued.
"I'm certain it's just because you want the pink one," Kitty replied. "But the green doesn't match my shoes, so give me the pink one."
She was holding a pretty pair of boots that were perfect for friendly calls, but not for a ball, Jane thought. While her sisters were quarrelling over their dresses, she approached them. "Did you see Lizzie?"
"I didn't, but she must be in the garden reading a book," Lydia said haughtily.
"I think she doesn't even want to take time to prepare for this ball," Kitty added in the same tone.
Jane arched a brow. She couldn't be surprised by such an opinion from them about Lizzie. "I'm sure it's not the case," she replied softly. "She knows how important this ball is. You are the ones asking for it, don't you remember?"
"She'll come, but only because she knows that Mr. Bingley organizes it, and he finds you attractive."
Jane muffled a cry. Nothing proved that Mr. Bingley felt anything for her. Of course, she enjoyed his company, but she wouldn't throw herself in the flames to save him! Or maybe yes… Jane felt her cheeks flush and Lydia saw it. "Of course, he finds you attractive and you find him attractive!"
"Stop supposing without evidence, please Lydia," Jane protested.
But the youngest Bennet daughter didn't hear it like that. She added with a knowing smile that if everything were to work fine, she would be married by the end of next month, because he would propose on the night of the ball. She would be so stunning that even the great Caroline Bingley would appear like a tramp beside her."
Jane bugged. Whatever she was wearing, Caroline Bingley would be the hostess beside her brother, and she couldn't overshadow her.
"You're always modest and perfect, Jane," Kitty jested. "I'm sure you'll make him turn his head."
This time Jane reddened. Her sisters had no right to speak about Charles Bingley in such a way. He was charming and gentle, very considerate, but he certainly didn't have such thoughts about her.
"He's a man," Lydia replied.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that if he wants to have a family with you, it's his best interest to think of you that way."
Jane turned to leave the room, offended. "Keep arguing over rags, I'll find Lizzie myself!" She hadn't made three steps when Lydia's pleased voice rang.
"Is our little Jane a bit too prude when she's over twenty? We're young enough to argue over rags, but if you're still childless next year, people will think of you as a spinster."
Jane snapped. Each word her younger sister had said had been an offence. In four steps she was in front of her and her hand slapped Lydia's cheek. She took the pink dress, and her rage gave her the strength to tear each dentelle, pearls, and other delicate detail, then she ripped the sleeves from the dress before tearing them in long pieces. She turned around and saw a jewel box. In a swift move, she sent it flying over the room, and it landed on Mary's opened piano, in an out-of-tune concerto.
Jane was almost out of breath, but satisfaction flowed in her. She faced Kitty and Lydia, who were looking at her, shocked, the latter putting a hand on her cheek.
"If you speak ill of Lizzie, Mr. Bingley or me, next time you'll know what will happen!"
The door opened and Elizabeth entered. When she saw the mayhem that was in front of her, a horrified look appeared on her face. "What… what's happened?"
"They managed successfully to exhaust my patience," Jane replied with a smile. "Since you're here, you can help me choose my dress!"
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