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anabdaniels · 3 months

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Piece by piece- Chapter 2

Chapter summary: Getting out on a date to know each other better, Ana and Jack realize they may work well together.

Word counting: 5.4k

Warnings: Alcohol, cursing, very questionable pick-up lines, brief mention of unpleasant male behaviors (not related to our cowboy, of course), slight self-body shaming.

A/N: Our girl is described as having curled bleached hair (I'm sorry, bleached hair has become my personality after I bleached mine after years of craving for it.), but you can just replace it for any other color/type of hair.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Playlist

Once the daylight hit her face, Ana had no choice but to wake up. Took her a moment to realize where she was and the memories of the last night were still a little blurred. She sat on the bed, running her hands over her face and hair, grateful for not having the monstrous headache she was expecting. After a few moments, everything became clearer, and if she could choose, Ana would rather have the worst headache of her life instead of her crystal-clear memories of the whole terrible scene in the bathroom.

“Fucking great, Ana. How will you ever face this man again?” letting out a frustrated sigh, she got out of bed.

A few minutes later, she went downstairs and followed to the kitchen when she heard voices coming from there. If she still believed that, Ana would’ve thanked the heavens for the fact that Jack wasn’t with the others.

“Seems we won’t need to go to check if our dear friend is still alive.” Tequila joked when Ana passed through the door.

“I wouldn’t say that I’m totally alive.” Ana answered while sitting on one of the stools on the kitchen island.

“Don’t be so dramatic. Based on what I’ve heard from last night, you’ve been in worst situations.” Lisa stated in a playful tone.

“As someone who witnessed everything, I can confirm that was not even close to being the most disastrous thing that happened in one of our reunions.” Ginger affirmed with a tender smile and handed a mug of coffee to Ana.

“You’re the only one here that I believe.” Ana held the mug between her hands and thanked Ginger for it.

Jack stayed in bed for a couple of minutes after waking up, thinking about the last events; had been a while since the last time he was on that kind of date. Since that last terrible breakup, he tried to convince himself that a life of commitment was not for him anymore, even if he knew it was a lie. Wearing the womanizer disguise made things easier; Jack could appreciate the company of a beautiful woman for a few hours and follow his life the next morning, without concern about the complicated sentimental field, he just didn’t expect things to change so fast because now he found himself wondering what would be the best place in Louisville to take Ana for a real date.

Finally, he decided to get up, going downstairs a couple of minutes later. Safe to say it was a pleasant surprise to hear Ana’s voice coming from the kitchen, then he walked over there and entered the room. She was too focused on the chat to notice him approaching and felt her heart skip a beat when his hands gently leaned on her shoulders.

“Looks like you’re recovered from the night, Ana.” She turned her head to look at him, feeling her cheeks warming a little bit up.

“Not hundred percent yet, but yes, I’m recovered.” Ana affirmed with a slight smile.

“Still progress.” Jack said with a smirk, pressing her shoulders for a second before releasing them and walking around to get some coffee. Ana turned her attention to the opposite side when she listened to a ringtone.

“Shit.” Lisa whispered while typing on her phone “I have to go. I promised to take my little sister for ice cream and she’s already flooding me with messages. As much as I’m enjoying watching the two sweethearts interacting,” she said alternating her gaze between Ana and Jack “the last thing I want is a pissed off nine-year-old.” Lisa took the last sip of her coffee and stood up, looking at Ana “Since I’m the one who kidnaped you, I can drive you home.”

“I have no condition to go anywhere before finishing this coffee.” Ana admitted, “Tell little Barbara that I didn’t forget about her cake.”

“As if she would let you forget.” Lisa raised her eyebrows and gave her friend a quick hug, then looked at Jack “And you better behave yourself with my friend.”

“If there’s a thing you don’t need to be concerned about, is this.” He sounded jokingly as always, but it was the truth.

“The best for your health.” She answered trying to sound serious and turned to look at Ginger and Tequila “And you two, we need to combine the visit you promised to my mother, ‘cause she’s about to drive me insane asking about you.”

“Just drop a date and I’ll be there.” Tequila said without flinching “I never waste the opportunity to have a coffee with a lady.”

“I forgot to mention that hitting on my mother isn’t an available option.” Lisa retorted with narrowed eyes.

“Did you get surprised after he and my aunt spent a whole afternoon flirting?” This time Ginger was the one remembering a questionable event.

“I’ve never been so happy that my mother doesn’t live around here.” Ana stated after taking a sip of her coffee.

“Don’t be so relieved.” Jack said right after “My mother is happily married living in Bardstown and it didn’t stop him from trying.”

“Y’all so dramatic. I was just sympathetically entertaining the ladies.” Tequila said with a crooked smile “And you’re too emotional for someone that used to have a lot of problems with furious husbands, Whiskey.” Jack narrowed his eyes, staring at his friend like he was about to kill him; definitely, the best thing he could’ve said in front of the woman his fella was interested in. Once again shocking Jack by how her sense of humor could be so terrible as his friends’, Ana burst into laughter before being honest with him.

“It suits you.” Not even Ginger could keep a straight face and laugh with the others, the perplexing expression on Jack’s face didn’t help much.

“Excuse me?” Jack landed his gaze on Ana while waited for an explanation, unable to close his mouth.

“I’ve said what I’ve said. Interpret as you wish.” This coming from anyone else would probably have pissed him off, but she had that strange talent to say something that could start a war with such a beautiful smile that Jack couldn’t help but get more fascinated.

“I know is the third time I say this in the last two hours, but now I really need to go home.” Ana said after they concluded another section of commentaries about some event involving someone they knew.

“Ana, what’s so interesting in your goddamn house for you to want to spend so much time in it?” Ginger complained openly, had been a while since the last time Ana joined them just to chat bullshit with none of them worrying about anything else.

“I promise I’ll not disappear for so long again, but I have a mountain of paperwork to take care of.”

“Considering that you managed the feat of going home after Lisa and Tequila, I had to admit that you’re redeeming yourself for the absence.” Ginger concluded, leaning her head slightly to the side.

“Good to know that I’m not doing that bad.” Ana smiled and turned her attention to her phone, letting out a sigh when a last warning of low battery flashed on the screen before the device turned down “That’s great. Now I’ll have to call my Uber with the power of my mind.”

“Or you could just take a ride home with a cowboy.” Jack said leaning at the door frame, a smug smirk on his lips. Ana looked at him with a slight smile.

“I’ll spare you from insisting because I’m accepting the suggestion.”

They talked for a couple of minutes more before Ana and Jack decided to leave, not surprisingly the three of them stood at the front door talking for a little longer. When they got in the car, Ana started to ponder if it had been a good idea; being alone with him after the incident of the last night wasn’t the scenario she expected, but then she decided to proceed like one would do with a band-aid: straight to the point without hesitation.

“Jack, I want to apologize for last night.” She started to talk without looking at him, for the first time her voice didn’t sound confident and firm “For everything that I remember doing and saying to you and for anything that I may not remember that I did.” Safe to say it caught Jack off guard, not the apology itself, but how she sounded slightly guilty.

“Don’t worry about that, darlin’.” He said sincerely with a warm voice, alternating his attention between her and the street “Those things happen all the time, it’s okay. And, at all, I found your declaration pretty romantic.” Jack smiled broadly when she laughed.

“I think it’s relevant to remark that I was telling the truth and that your shoulder is an amazing pillow.” She pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh.

“Considering that you still talking to me and that you collapsed fast, I’ll believe in both things.” He affirmed in a solemn tone, even though he still smiling “But actually, you caused me a problem.”

“What problem?” She frowned, staring at him with full attention.

“It’s a very specifical problem. You see, it makes me upset every time I unlock my phone and remember that your number is not on it.” Took Ana a few seconds to process what she just heard and was impossible to hold the hearty laugh.

“You’re not making things easy for me, because I love questionable pick-up lines.” She said with a wide smile “Give me this phone, Daniels.”

“Don’t blame me if I go too far with that.” He didn’t hesitate to grab his phone and hand it to her.

“If you knew the atrocities that I found reasonable to be used in flirting situations, you wouldn’t tell me this.” Ana answered while typing her number on his phone.

“Can’t be that bad, give me an example.” Jack turned his look at her once he stopped at the traffic light. She stopped typing and bit her lip, thinking for a moment.

“You see, being a history teacher demands me to use a lot of books which is very good, ‘cause I have my library card always handy. And it ended up truly useful because I’m certainly checking you out.” It was supposed to be just a joke, but if he were to judge by her glance at him, he wouldn’t be so sure that she wasn’t serious.

“You’ll steal my heart speaking like this.” Jack had a smirk on his face.

“Maybe that’s my goal.” She said while turning her attention back to save her contact on his phone, handing it back to him right after.

“You won’t need much effort.” He admitted before looking back to the street, making her smile sideways.

No more than fifteen minutes later they arrived at her address; once more he didn’t miss the chance to open the car door for her with that almost silly smile on his face. Since he had to park a few meters away from the front door, he wouldn’t waste the opportunity to enjoy her company for a little longer while they walked towards her house.

“Safe and sound at home.” He said while she unlocked the door.

“And away from alcohol for a while.” She answered frowning slightly and smiled right after “Well, thank you for the ride, for the nursing services, and for allowing me to use you as a pillow.” Ana smiled a little more when he chuckled.

“I’m at your disposal anytime if you need any of the three things.” Jack affirmed with a nod of his head.

“I appreciate this information really much.”

“Good to know that.” He held the brim of his hat to straighten it before proceeding to his next move “I’ll take this opportunity to ask if you’re free tomorrow night.” Jack could see the slight surprise on her face and hoped this was a good thing.

“I am.” Ana didn’t think much before saying it.

“So, would you be up for dinner?” His voice came out calm and confident, would be impossible to know he had butterflies in his stomach.

“Yes. As long it isn’t sushi, I’d be delighted.” She sounded playful and had a discreet smile on her lips, ignoring the little racing of her heart with all her strength.

“Perfect.” Jack was smiling openly “No raw fish and I’ll pick you up at 8 pm.” Jack grabbed his Stetson by the crown and took it out of his head, then held one of her hands “Have a good afternoon, darlin’.” Without looking away from her eyes, Jack kissed the back of her hand.

“Thank you.” Ana smiled a bit more while observing him let go of her hand “I see you tomorrow, then.”

“I’ll be counting the seconds.” He said putting his hat back on and smiling at her one last time before descending the three steps at the front door and following the sidewalk to his car, unable to avoid his thoughts.

The last time Jack went on a real date with someone was more than two years ago when he met Sylvia, the girlfriend who made him give up on a life of commitment. But now, less than 24 hours after meeting Ana he was reconsidering deeply this decision. Of course, he still didn’t know enough about her, but he couldn’t ignore that they had chemistry, not the sexual kind, even that they had shared some desirous glances, it wasn’t just that. She genuinely liked a lot of things that he liked too; he didn’t need to take care about his dubious jokes because she was into the same type of jokes; despite the little flirting games, she was pretty much sincere about important stuff, like let him know that she had no intent of waste time in something casual. Most people might think it would be an exaggeration to discuss these things even before engaging in anything serious, but Jack appreciated that. In his middle twenties maybe, he wouldn’t care about these details at the very beginning of a romantic involvement, but now, being forty years old, he liked to know in which waters he was diving. Jack shook his head as he started the car, looking at her house one last time before he started to drive, hoping things went as well as he was expecting.

With her back resting on the door, Ana was still assimilating everything. The last thing she expected of that night was to end up having a date. She started to flirt with Jack mostly as a joke, with no intent to take it seriously, but he had too many characteristics she appreciated in a man to not catch her attention. Despite having hit on her openly, he really could keep a conversation without acting like a predator and he seemed truly interested in what she had to say. As if all this wasn’t enough, his passion for animals, especially dogs and horses just made him even more attractive to her. And for sure she couldn’t ignore the respectful gentleman he was; only her behavioral language was more than enough for him to get her boundaries and strictly respect them. The straight rational part of her mind insisted that not trying to kiss her after less than five minutes of conversation was the bare minimum, but, at the same time, she remembered that one of the principal reasons why she had been out of the romantic field for three years was exactly because any time a guy approached her, the whole situation was mediocre: no more than two minutes off tasteless talk till they started to look at her in the wrong way or tried to do something they certainly didn’t had the liberty to. Ana had no idea what course the dinner would follow, but even if they ended up not being romantically compatible, at least she would have a pleasant time with a handsome man; there was not much that could go wrong.

It was already 7:55 pm and Ana was doubtful about her outfit for the fourth time in the last ten minutes. Not that she thought that could have anything wrong with the emerald gabardine dress or with her matching emerald necklace and earrings, the problem for sure wasn’t them, but her. Growing up with the feeling of being the DUFF in her social circle had its consequences. She considered changing, fearing to be overdressed for dinner, but at the same time, that annoying voice in the back of her mind insisted on saying that she wasn’t skinny enough to dress more simply than that. Given the time and the fact that, despite the doubts, she liked the result of the whole picture, Ana decided not to change anything and stepped away from the mirror to put on her heels. One last check to make sure all the necessary was in her purse before she led downstairs and sat on the couch, ready to wait at least twenty more minutes, but she didn’t even have the time to get comfortable at the upholstery before listening to the doorbell.

Stood in front of the door, Jack aligned his blazer one last time while waiting. He felt his heart beating faster as heard her steps getting louder and couldn’t help a wide smile at the moment that Ana opened the door; when he thought she couldn’t look more stunning, there she was, easily the most beautiful creature he ever had the privilege to look at.

“Good evening, Jack.” She greeted softly with a smile, still processing how this man looked so gorgeous. He was not wearing his Stetson this time and his hair was millimetrically aligned, a good match with his well-fitted black blazer.

“It’s a wonderful evening having the most stunning lady of this city by my side.” Jack held her hand while speaking and planted a kiss on its dorsum “Shall we?”

“Of course.” Ana closed and locked the door behind her, walking side by side with him to the car, frowning for a second when he opened the door of an Audi “I seem to have unlocked your urban cowboy version.” She tilted her head slightly, looking at him.

“Kind of.” Jack affirmed with a smirk, holding out a hand to her “I would never risk letting the wind ruin your beautiful blonde curls in an open car.”

“Very insightful of you.” Ana smiled, holding his hand and getting into the car. After turning around and getting into the car, Jack raised one eyebrow and smiled at the scene of her focused on the onboard computer. “Don’t mind me, I’m just connecting my phone to the radio to provide you with an amazing soundtrack.” Ana joked looking at him.

“I’m deeply curious to know what you listen to.” He admitted, starting the car.

“Well, my playlist can go from Beyoncé to Mozart faster than a blink.” Once her phone was connected, she pressed the play button without checking which song it was and felt instant regret at the moment she heard the first note of the melody, followed by the chorus: “And the girls say; Save a horse, ride a cowboy”. Jack couldn’t hold back his laughter and looked at her just to find Ana staring at her phone with a perplexed smile and red cheeks. “I swear I have an explanation for this.” She said, finally looking at him.

“Go ahead with it, darlin’. I have a feeling it will be interesting.” He answered before looking back to the street, still smiling.

“Ok, maybe I don’t have a real explanation, I just like this song.” At that point, she knew that trying to make up a story wouldn’t help much.

“Honestly, it doesn’t surprise me.” Jack was serious, despite his goofy smile “I just wonder if all our dates will be chaotic like this.” He glanced at her, resting his hand on his thigh.

“I can easily be more chaotic than this.” She hesitated for a moment before grabbing his free hand and intertwining their fingers “So I suppose you’ll have to get used.”

“Certainly not a thing I’ll complain ‘bout.” He stated, caressing the back of her hand with his thumb “I just can’t assure you that I’ll not be shocked by your playlist occasionally.” Jack sounded the more serious he could, despite the involuntary smile.

“I promise it gets more cultured.” Even with his eyes focused on the avenue, Jack had no doubt she was smiling.

“I’m afraid of the answer, but now I need to know what’s your favorite song.”

“Luckily for you, is a half-cultured one.” Ana said while scrolling through her playlist to find her favorite; once the song started to play, took no more than a few seconds for Jack to recognize it.

“Considering all the possibilities, ‘Death of a Bachelor’ was the last song I expected to be your favorite.” She couldn’t help but smile broadly at his statement.

“And I didn’t expect you to know this song.” Of course, Ana didn’t think he listened only to Willie Nelson 24/7, but her expectations for their music tastes to be aligned weren’t the highest.

“You’re not the only one that listens to a lot of everything.” He shrugged and pulled her hand closer to his face, kissing her wrist.

“But let me guess, your favorite is something between ‘Rhinestone Cowboy’ and ‘Islands in the Stream’.”

“Is ‘50 Ways to Leave Your Lover’, so your guess was pretty accurate.” Jack admitted with a smile.

“‘Just slip out the back, Jack’” Ana quoted a line from the song “Surely more sentimental than I was expecting, but a very enjoyable surprise.”

Amidst some more discussions about popular culture, they arrived at the restaurant. Once settled at the table, after the waiter left, they resumed their briefly interrupted conversation, which was not a difficult thing since they were two talkers.

“I know it doesn’t suit me, but I have a serious question to ask you.” Ana declared after one more sip of wine.

“Fine, now I’m scared.” He joked “Go on, darlin’. I’m all yours to interrogate.”

“Very well.” She pressed her lips together for a second before going ahead “Do intend to have kids?” Ana knew that, depending on what his answer was, any chance of this turning into something more would be dead and buried, but better now than after she became more involved.

“Not really.” Jack chose honesty, fully aware that there’s a possibility of ruining everything.

“We’re talking about ‘not for now’ or ‘not at all’?” Ana took a sip of her wine, trying to contain her anxiety about his answer.

“Well, I had a vasectomy when I was 23, so ‘not at all’.” Ana didn’t even notice that she let out a sigh of relief, smiling openly.

“I don’t wanna sound indelicate, but those were undoubtedly the best words that came out of your mouth in this whole evening.” Her declaration caught Jack off guard and he couldn’t hide his excitement with her positive reaction.

“So, this won’t be a problem?” Even though he already assumed the answer, he couldn’t help but ask.

“You’re talking to the person who gave herself a sterilization surgery as a 25th birthday present.” She raised her eyebrows slightly.

“This being the case, I have a serious question too.” Jack leaned back in his chair, keeping his attention on her “Supposing we got married, how much persuasion I’d need to convince you to move to the countryside?”

“I grew up in the country and always wanted to go back, so you’d need no effort.” Jack couldn’t say if he was more fascinated by how she always sounded certain of what she wanted or how she seemed truly unbothered by the mention of something like marriage when they were still in the process to know each other.

“I hope you know that every word you say just makes you more fascinating to me.” His radiant smile only proved he was telling the truth “But I’m curious ‘bout this part of your past. Yesterday you mentioned you’re Brazilian; how did you end up in Louisville?”

“Well, I was born in Brazil and lived there ‘till I was nine years old when my family moved to Maine. Once I finished high school, I moved to New York to go to college, and right after I graduated, thanks to one of my professors I got the opportunity to get my master’s in London and I stayed there for twelve years. Then, three years ago I decided to move back to the United States. Through some acquittances, I got the job at the school and that’s how I ended up here.” She was calm while speaking and didn’t notice the soft smile growing on her face since Jack looked more interested with every word she said.

“Be aware that I’ll want to know the specific details about several parts of this.” Jack had a soft smile on his face “But what intrigues me more is that a woman with your qualifications, charisma, and eloquence could be working at the best universities in this country. Why the high school?” Judging by her excited expression and the breath she took before answering, Jack was aware that Ana was about to talk excitedly about the whole thing, and he couldn’t be more delighted.

“I worked at the UCL for a few years in fact, and it was frustrating.” She leaned her forearms at the board of the table, considering for a second what would be the best way to explain it “Adults are too comfortable in just listening to the information and absorb it unquestioningly, conversely the kids are always questioning the reason for everything; they go into heavy argumentations to defend their points and sometimes they end up noticing their contradictions in the middle of the process. It’s almost a magical thing to see them understanding why some things are the way they are and have the most variated reactions about it; there’s not a single world conflict they didn’t come up with a solution and most of them make sense. You don’t have much of this when teaching adults, but is exactly this chaotic atmosphere of the young ones that gives me satisfaction to be teaching; seeing that my work is effectively making some difference in their perceptions is undoubtedly the most amazing reward I can get from all of this.” Just when she finished her explanation, Ana realized she had been talking for a while and got excited enough to start with her vicious habit of moving her hands while speaking without even noticing. “I’m sorry, I got a little carried away.” She excused herself with a slightly embarrassed smile.

“Don’t you dare apologize for making me reflect on the condescension with which I’ve accepted information throughout my whole life using such a beautiful speech.” Jack’s eyes were slightly narrowed, accompanied by a crooked grin was more than enough to convince her about how real was his satisfaction in listening to her.

“Your ears will be the victims of my non-stop talking, then whatever you say goes.” Ana leaned in her chair, still smiling “But, since I’ve talked enough for a night and we’re talking about work, I have some questions too.”

“I can’t promise to talk so passionately as you about this subject, but I can guarantee honest answers.” Jack tried to sound solemn, but his smile betrayed him.

“And I appreciate this, ‘cause my curiosity is killing me.” He could see a little crease between Ana’s eyebrows while she formulated her next sentence “I know what I’m gonna say may sound a little stereotyped and I’m already apologizing for this, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t find the sense in someone who enjoy the things you do working at the corporate business. If I had to guess what you do for life, I’d say veterinary or something of this nature.”

As if he wasn’t already enchanted enough for her, now she was admitting being intrigued about his job because it didn’t match his tastes and not because “He didn’t look like someone that would work in a big corporation.” like everyone always told him. And yet she feared she might’ve been rude in her remark. If Jack’s expectations were high before, now they were almost in the sky.

“Academically speaking, I’m a zootechnician, so you’re not wrong at all.” He answered with a wide smile “You see, I got a job at Statesman when I was nineteen and I found out that work at an office is not that bad. I always had the intention to retire to the countryside someday and the corporate job ended up being a good profit source for me to buy the ranch I always wanted and adjust it to the animals I intended to have. Even with some inconveniences, such as having to stay in New York longer than I’d like to, I learned to enjoy what I do and my schedule it’s flexible enough for me to spend almost all my weekends at the ranch.” This time Ana was the one listening with attention and amusement, appreciating his line of thought.

“I like your way of thinking, always considering the long-term situation, and I have to say that your concern about ensuring the ranch was fit for the animals got me by the heart.” Ana admitted with a discreet smile “And all this talk about country life is making me crave for a horse ride; it’s been so many years since the last time.”

“I can’t believe that someone that got so excited while listening ‘bout the life of all of my horses doesn’t ride often.” The expression on his face made it clear that he was genuinely surprised.

“The last time I rode a horse I still lived in Brazil.” Ana raised her eyebrows dramatically, leaving Jack more perplexed.

“We need to solve this, darlin’.” Jack leaned his crossed arms on the table “I’m going to the ranch this weekend and, if you would like to and feel comfortable ‘bout it, you can come with me. There’s a lot of other animals you can pet, the house has all the amenities you have in the city and, of course, you’d have a suite just for you.”

Throughout a good part of her life, Ana had received some good proposals for work or trips, but this one, for sure was among the best; not just because the idea of spending a weekend surrounded by animals sounded amazing, but because of his concern to clarify that it was not the kind of invitation with hidden second intentions.

“Sincerely, I’d love to spend a whole weekend disturbing your poor horses, but I have a serious question.” Despite being soft, her tone was neutral enough to not let him have any clue where this was leading “There’s any calf that I could pet? ‘Cause it has also been a long time since I was close to one.” Ana dismantled her straight face when he smiled broadly and nodded.

“There’s a couple of them and they’re used to being around people since they were born, so you’ll probably be running away from them at the end of the day.”

“That being the case, you can start to prepare your spirit to spend the whole weekend with me.” She said with a smile, tilting slightly her head.

“I’ll have to prepare myself to deal with the days after the weekend, ‘cause I’m aware that will be hard to be away from you.” Once her response to his remark was a sideways smile and a look that would make Jack tremble if he wasn’t so self-confident, he was sure that it would be an interesting weekend.

Two hours later, they were once again stood at her front door, arranging the main details of their trip to his ranch, already making plans. As was becoming usual, Jack didn’t waste the chance to plant a kiss on the back of her hand, as always sending a wave of heat over her skin and Ana wouldn’t be able to say if it was the warm touch of his lips or the gentle scratch of his mustache that gave her that amazing chills. One last glance exchanged and Jack went his way back to his car, as Ana closed the door of her house, the two wondering if things were really going so well between them.

Tagging: @missladym1981 (In case you want to be tagged, lemme know)

#agent whiskey #agent whiskey fic #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #jack daniels #jack whiskey daniels #Kingsman: the golden circle #pedrostories

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roweclementine · 2 months

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Getting ready to end my Spotify subscription when it expires at the end of the month but I’m keeping the account up so here’s all of my playlists that I’ve made since I joined back in summer 2020

Downloads (the Big One)

2023:

March 2023 (v proud of the cover for this one; can’t believe I’ve been doing these for a whole year)

April 2023

May 2023

June 2023

Fourth Of July 2023 (Rowe’s Version)

august 2023

September 2023

October 2023

November 2023

December 2023

March-December 2023

2024:

January 2024 (platonic breakup season woooo)

February 2024

March 2024

The monthly playlist idea was stolen from @trenchcrows. Each playlist has as many songs as there were days in that month (except when they don’t because some of them used to have Lovejoy/Wilbur songs in them). They were my favorite/most listened to/most looped songs from each month. It was a fun project and I think that it’s cool that I can look back and figure out exactly when I got into certain songs or when certain things were happening to me. November-January was certainly A Time.

Queer Playlists:

Aspec (aro and/or ace songs)

🏳️‍⚧️ (trans/nb songs)

🏳️‍🌈 (gay gay homosexual gay)

Podcast Adjacent Playlists:

Favorite SFBO Episodes

Favorite Podcasts

Songs from Let’s Learn Everything!

Playlists For Specific Artists/Albums:

GLOOM DIVISION (new idkhow album go stream it)

We’re Not Panicking! At The Disco Anymore (by Fall Out Boy)

Everything by Jon Walker (all of the songs/bands mentioned in Everything)

Jon Walker favorites

Waterparks songs named after colors

Waterparks Songs Named After Pixar Quotes

Sparrow Sleeps

Infinity on High but it's my favorite parts (by fall out boy)

Local Dreamers (the Wait I Need to Listen to Twenty One Pilots More So They Show Up on My Wrapped playlist)

American Beauty/American Psycho, but with 9% more Demi Lovato

Razzmatazz, but with 9% more Tessa Violet

Playlists For Specific Situations:

Songs to listen to at the end of the year

Beachy

Therapy :( (Rowe is not having a good time)

Therapy :) (Rowe is not having a good time but she’s trying to be optimistic now)

✨ Seasonal Depression ✨ (Rowe is not having a good time part 3, now with more Christmas)

Christmas Songs That I Actually Like (We’re going to ignore the fact that Every Snowflake is Different isn’t technically a Christmas song ok?)

Relationships:

Breakup songs

Show Me The Door (break up songs; a playlist dedicated to my mother)

/ (love songs)

Hopeless Romantic Bittersweet Yearning (more love songs)

& (songs about friendship)

Spotify Wrapped:

Rowe’s 2020 Wrapped

Rowe’s 2021 Wrapped

Rowe’s 2022 Wrapped

Rowe’s 2023 Wrapped

Rowe’s Wrapped 2019-2023 (I had Spotify in 2019 but was using a different account at the time)

Minecraft:

Fallen Kingdom Saga

Minecraft Songs

The Minecraft Archives:

TMcA

tmca!Tommy

(The Minecraft archives was a mcyt (dsmp/Hermitcraft season 8) tma au that I was working on which I am no longer writing because of Current Events)(I also had a TMcA!Wilbur playlist but I deleted it back in February along with all of my other Lovejoy playlists because fuck Wilbur)

The Rest Of Them:

Saturday Saturday Saturday Saturday (sometimes you just wanna listen to songs with Saturday in the title; here’s a playlist for that)

Favorite Covers

Walmart Radio but it’s the songs I actually like

# (songs with numbers in the title)

Duets & features

Inside you there are two wolves (aka Fall Out Boy are liars)

Eurovision Favs

and finally,

Some Songs That Aren’t Lovejoy:

When did this happen why are there so many of them this post took like an hour to make

#Spotify #playlists #music

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bestiepetedavidson · 3 years

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Can I request hcs what Pete would do when you're standing in the middle of the night at his door, after a break up with your now ex boyfriend? Thankss ❣

yes! this game me inspo and i’m going to try to do a written-out story if that’s ok! :)

a/n: y’all this is the first story ish thing i’ve ever written so i apologize if it’s really bad/cringey! i feel like it’s extremely choppy but idrk how to fix it. constructive critism/suggestions/etc is ALWAYS appreciated! thank u! <3

song to listen to: i’m thinking adore you by bestie harry? idk it just fits hehe

tw: angst? i think? idk this is my first time writing this much lol. some strong language. ending with fluff :)

it was almost 3 am on a saturday night, pouring rain and thundering, and you were left crying on your now ex’s doorstep. you ran into your car, soaking wet. your boyfriend/girlfriend of 3 years, the person you were gonna marry- had just dumped you. they cheated on you with your best friend.

you had no one to talk to and nowhere to go. you’re pretty introverted, and the only people you really had were your ex-best friend, your ex, and your friend pete. and pete’s friends too, technically. they were mainly his friends but you would all hang out together, none of which you felt comfortable enough to go to.

you called pete- no answer. he probably still hasn’t left 30 Rock. but anyways, he had a lot on his plate. you continued to bawl as tears rolled down your cheeks and your mascara smudged underneath your eyes. you broke down and you couldn’t stop. he/she broke your heart into a million pieces in the matter of seconds. the past 3 years of your life had gone to waste.

you decided to just drive. you didn’t have anywhere to go because you were staying with him/her. you just drove around aimlessly for 20 minutes, still crying the whole time. then, you got a phone call. “pete”, your phone read. thank god. quickly, you pulled into a random grocery store’s parking lot. you picked the phone up and your bluetooth connected to your car.

“y/n” pete said. he sounded tired.

“yeah?” you responded, still crying.

“what happened? is everything okay?”

you tried to explain what had just happened, but you were too much of a crying mess for him to make out anything you were saying.

pete, confused, told you “y/n, i’m sorry, i can’t understand what you’re saying”. he took a deep breath, and continued. “do you want to come over? i just got home from work. we can talk it out”. his voice sounded worried

you agreed and hung up, and set your google maps to his apartment address. you started to blast a random spotify breakup playlist and drove.

a little later, at around 3:40, you finally made it. still soaking wet from the rain, you took the elevator up to his floor. you had somewhat calmed down, but you looked like you’ve been through a trainwreck. you knocked on pete’s door and he opened it to see you in your current state. the moment you saw him you just broke down, and he pulled you into a hug without saying anything.

so there you two were. just standing in the middle of the building’s hallway, hugging. in the middle of the night. he didn’t care that you were getting him and his clothes wet, and he didn’t care that he couldn’t go to sleep. he was simply focused on you and what was going on. he softly rubbed your back, and every time you would start shake uncontrollably again, he’d just hug you harder.

eventually, he suggested going back in. “y/n, let’s go inside and sit. you can tell me what’s going on and i’ll do my best to help.”

he held the door for you to go in, and you walked in and sat on his couch. he sat right next to you and there was a moment of silence before he decided to speak up. “hey.. y/n look at me. please.”

his words only made you cry more. he place his hand on your chin and slowly lifted it, giving you a slight “please tell me what’s going on” smile.

you took his hand off of your face and held on to his thumb. you were luckily able to get a hold of yourself and explained to him what had just happened, crying in between sentences. he didn’t take his eyes off of you for a second. he stayed there and listened to absolutely everything you had to stay, his thumb still in your hand. by the time you were done, any trace of makeup that was still on your eyes was a done deal, and it was all smeared on your cheeks. he took a deep breath and gave his opinions.

“wow.. y/ex/n is a fucking scumbag. no like seriously, what the actual fuck. who would do that? and especially to someone like you.. y/n you deserve so much better than that piece of shit. fuck him/her.”

you cried, and responded with “no, he/she’s right. i wasn’t worth it and y/bsf/n is so much better fit for him/her. she’s so much prettier and smarter and just better”

pete took a second. “y/n that is so fucking wrong. you can’t say that about yourself. you are beautiful and smart and amazing in every single way. anybody would be lucky as fuck to date you.”

you simply shrugged, he knew that he couldn’t technically change your mind and that you weren’t in a state to really believe that, so you just let it be. he took both of his hands and cupped your face.

“you are perfect.” he tried to wipe your cheeks with his thumbs but it only made things worse, spreading it all across your face. you looked across the room at that large mirror he had hanging on the wall and went “ah”, making fun of the way he made it look.

“hey, at least we have matching raccoon eyes now” pete said, smiling. to that you giggled, and he responded with “gahhh, there’s that smile i love”, as he hugged you again.

still sniffling but now with a smile on your face, you whispered “thank you” in his ear.

“anytime. and listen, you don’t get to talk about my best friend like that.” he responded

sending him another smile, you went to his bathroom to wash your face.

best friend, he said. nothing more.

while you still loved your ex boyfriend/girlfriend, you always secretly had a crush on pete. it was ever anything you would’ve acted on though. first of all, because of your friendship. you wouldn’t want to ruin the way things were. second, because you were dating someone. you loved them and you wouldn’t just cheat... but apparently they would. and did. third, you had just had your heart broken. you were in no state of mind to just go and admit your crush. but god, was it tempting. and it’s not like if you were to, you would want to start dating him. he most likely wouldn’t like you back, and even if he did, you wouldn’t want to date. you learned that you needed to take things slow, and pete knew that about himself too.

you walked back out, and you noticed that pete was in the kitchen, making tea. he knows that you love it. he saw you glaring and smiled, going “what? you love it.” you started to giggle because pete is absolutely not a tea person, but the gesture is just so cute. “shut up,” pete jokingly went, “we’re watching spongebob to help calm you and you’re sleeping here tonight”

“oh petey! how you’re just the sweetest!” you mocked him, smiling at each other.

you went to his closet to get a bunch of blankets, and soon enough, y’all were sitting & cuddling on his couch, watching spongebob on his couch, drinking tea, and cuddled up in a multitude of blankets. you were still worn out from sobbing and very tired, but. it was the perfect comfort spot. he always knew what to do. he was your comfort person.

he started smoking a blunt, (that’s pete for you) and he offered if you wanted a hit, but you declined. smirking, he decided to put it out. after an episode, it was already 4 am. you knew he was tired and so were you, so you suggested going to sleep, but pete insisted that y’all finish the episode. neither of you were really paying attention but it was kind of just playing in the background.

pete starts talking about random stuff going on, life stuff, making little jokes, the SNL show that he just did, etc etc. he’s sitting back on the couch and you’re on his side, head on his chest. you’ve cuddled platonically before so it’s nothing new. you’re both watching the screen and going in and out of conversation. at some point, you lift your head up off his chest, and you just stare at him while he’s continuing his story. he doesn’t really notice you getting up, and continues to talk about a recent standup he did.

watching his face, his jaw moving, talking, the way he speaks and the way his voice sounds, something changes in you and you feel the urgent need to kiss him. he notices that you’re looking at him. he turns his head and looks down at you. the second he notices that you’re staring at him, his words slowly fade out and he just looks into your eyes, forgetting what he as saying before. you’re still in his arms, but your head is up and you’re just staring at each other. there’s about 5 inches between your faces, and your heart starts racing. his does too.

“pete” you quietly whisper.

he softly presses his lips into yours and you kiss him back. his hand runs through your hair. his lips are perfect and it’s like you two were made for each other. the kiss lasts for like 10 seconds, and he slowly pulls away. you’re both at a loss for words, and you’re still staring into each other’s eyes. pete, breathless, quickly glances that the digital clock underneath his tv.

“wow,” pete says. “i’ve been waiting for as long as i can remember for this to happen and it happens at 4:20,” slowly creeping up a smile.

“i kno-” you start to respond, when you fully realize what he just said. you cackle out and can’t stop laughing, neither can he.

you pull him back into you as you’re both still giggling and you softly make out for a little longer. eventually you fall asleep in his arms, right on his couch. with spongebob still playing in the background :)

i hope u enjoyed my very first mess of a story <3 requests are open!

🤍🤍🤍

#pete davidson #pete davidson x reader #pete davidson imagine #pete davidson x you

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formulaonedirection · 2 years

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can i ask /you/ for mando song recs? i’m curious what’s on your playlist!

i come bearing a few songs that i’ve been vibing with lately: synesthesia by andrew mcmahon, violet by bad suns, and into the wilderness by early hours

Omg what a strange feeling to be recced an Andrew song because I'm actually THEE biggest lifelong Andrew McMahon fan. Like since Something Corporate to Jack's Mannequin to the current Andrew McMahon in the Wildnerness era lmao. The other two are also fantastic recs and are going in my Liked Songs!! Excellent vibes!

ANYWAY main content aka Mrain Damage tracks under the cut 🤪

I feel like every song can be a Mando song because they are my biggest blorbos and all songs are written about Them but let me rec 3 that I haven't mentioned before.

Ease by Troye Sivan

Thee Mando theme song for me right now. Your touch my comfort and my lullaby!!!! Just about Max being Lando's Home and Place of Comfort. (For the sadder version of songs from this album pls see here)

Dips by Daisy The Great

This is the Mando lazy yacht hooking up theme song. Like the vibe is just slow sweaty sticky sappy boat sex slash making love. Pls picture them like this while you listen to it

Walk by Griff

This song is big big neurotic caretaker Lando being in love with His Max energy. Very #MaxIsLandosBaby energy

Grow As We Go by Ben Platt

Sorry but does it ever make you feel insane that they've LITERALLY grown up together and seen each other through so many phases and they still seek each other out and they still spend all this fucking time together (45 days and counting!)?? Like it's not just the shared history they have that binds them, it's that they're actively choosing to form these adult identities together side by side :(( growing as they go (together) :((( (TOGETHER)

I have an entirely separate Man1do (Mando Songs by One Direction) playlist but it has been sufficiently covered here and then there's an entire lengthy Mandaylor (Mando Songs Written by Taylor) playlist which I will eventually bully @des-iderate into publicly discussing but the current Biggest Mandaylor song in light of the protracted breakup honeymoon finally ending is:

Come Back...Be Here by Taylor Swift

No explanation needed, the lyrics speak for themselves I THINK

Anyway these are just general Mando chunes and not from the Mando Divorce playlist which is like A Whole Other Genre that I don't have the energy to go into right now but that vibe is......devastating.

Special shout out to all previously mentioned songs on this blog (A World Alone, Anyone Else But You, Stay Stay Stay, Pancakes For Dinner, Tim Wish You Were Born A Girl, Do I Wanna Know) and in conclusion literally all songs can be made about MY blorbos and #MILB

#sorry this is so insanely long i am: deeply unwell #what do I even tag this #deep deep #mrain rot #ro tag #music

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lazydnfwriter · 2 years

Text

The Stages of Dating (Or; the five times Dream thought he was dating George and the one time he actually was) by lazydnfwriter

Summary: Dream finally tells George how he feels and invites him to Florida where they can officially start their relationship. There’s only one problem; George doesn’t realise they’re dating. Will George reciprocate the feelings once he finds out? Or will Dream have his heart broken, losing his best friend forever?

Chapter: 6/6, 1.6k words (full fic posted on ao3, links to other chapters posted here on tumblr: 1 / 2 / 3&4 / 5 / 6)

Chapter 6: The Bliss Stage

As much as Dream wishes he could, you can’t really take back a confession of love. Once it’s out there, it’s out there. There’s nothing anyone can do to make it go back into the misguided hole it came leaping out from no matter how hard you try. And he really has tried.

It’s been a week now since George fled back to the UK and Dream isn’t coping so well. He initially tried to pretend it’d never happened and messaged George a few times but when George landed back in the UK he sent back a simple; ‘I need a bit of time to think.’ Dream hasn’t heard from him since.

It was all downhill from there. Dream closed off completely; not leaving the house, barely leaving his room, sleeping through the days, barely eating, and staying up all night playing over the events of that evening again and again in his mind.

Fed up with his friend beating himself up, as well as being sick of the smell of his un-showered housemate, Sapnap finally decides to intervene. Entering Dream’s room, he walks straight to the windows and pulls back the curtains.

“Dude, this has got to stop. Get up, I’ve made breakfast. If you’re not showered and downstairs in less than fifteen minutes I’m going to drag you down there myself.”

Dream makes a general sound of agreement from the bed but stays where he is, hiding from the sunshine under his covers.

“I mean it, Dream!” Sapnap says, yanking the blankets down to the end of the bed and then leaving the room with a slam of the door.

Dream opens his eyes blearily and lets out a huff, getting up and going along with Sapnap’s orders.

After a quick shower and rummage around his room for a fresh change of clothes, Dream meets Sapnap downstairs and is surprised to see that he actually has made them breakfast. Sitting down at the table he realizes how hungry he is and tucks in to the meal.

Sapnap laughs and pats Dream on the shoulder, “Good to have you back, man.”

Once they’ve both finished and cleared the table Sapnap stops Dream when he tries to sneak back upstairs, “Look, Dream, we need to talk about what happened.”

Dream moves around him and sits on the couch, lowering his head in defeat, “Yeah… yeah, I know.”

Sapnap joins him and uncertain of how to start, sits there for a moment. Trying to figure out what could possibly make this better when they both know that the worst has happened.

“Dream, George does love you.” Sapnap begins, ��We both do. He might just not love you the way you love him but that’s ok. He just needs time to figure stuff out, but we’ll both always be there for you. You need to try and move forward from this and figure out how to still be his friend because I know he won’t want to lose you because of this.”

Dream lifts his head and lets it fall back to rest on the couch and sighs, “You’re right. I’m sorry, I’ve been wallowing a bit. Haven’t I? There’s this song ‘Feel’ by Papercity that I found on a breakup playlist and I’ve been listening to it on repeat, I don’t think that’s been helping much either. The lyrics hit a bit too close to home.”

Letting out a dry laugh Dream sits up and forces himself to address the topic, “I’ll get my shit together, and if I start spiraling again you have permission to call me out. Spray me with water like a bad pet or something, deal?”

Dream holds out his hand and Sapnap shakes on it, “Sounds like I win either way, deal.”

Dream sticks to his promise and over the next week tries to get back to his old self. He cleans his room, tries to get back to a semi-normal sleep schedule (as if there was one to begin with), and even starts talking to George again. It’s small steps and they’re both not back to where they were before but Dream tries to stay hopeful that they can be friends again.

On one of his better days, which means Dream has showered and eaten at least one meal, there’s a knock at the door.

“Sapnap! Did you order some food? There’s someone at the door!” Dream yells from his bedroom to wherever Sapnap is in the house.

A reply is yelled back to him, “Not me! Did you order something online?”

Another knock at the door.

Getting up from his computer desk Dream replies, “I don’t think so! Sapnap, this is dumb. I’ll just get the door.”

Walking downstairs and opening the door Dream finds George standing there. No luggage, just George.

“Hello, Dream.”

Dream shakes his head, confused. Am I asleep?

“Hello, George.”

No, I don’t think I am asleep.

Standing there in the doorway there’s a moment of silence where neither of them are quite sure what to say next, eventually Dream says, “When did you fly in?”

“Just now, I’ve come straight from the airport. Actually, I have a flight back in a few hours. This was kind of a last-minute decision…”

Dream takes a second to really look at George; his hair is rumpled, it doesn’t look like he managed to sleep on the flight, he’s chewing at his lip and fidgeting from foot to foot.

“George, is everything ok? Why are you here?” Dream says, quickly followed by, “Not that I’m not happy to see you, of course! You just… look a little stressed.”

“Yeah, I kind of want a do-over if that’s ok? Are you hungry? I haven’t eaten today.”

Confused, Dream grabs his jacket from where it’s hanging next to the door and yells up in the direction of Sapnap’s room, “Sapnap! I’m going to grab some food. I’ll be back in a bit!” Not waiting for a reply, they start making their way down the street.

After a brief walk in silence with the occasional glance at each other they enter the first café that crosses their path and take a seat towards the back in a semi-private booth, bringing with them some sandwiches they’ve purchased from the cabinet.

Both sort of picking at their food Dream chooses to be the one to break the silence again, “So… good flight?”

George laughs at the poor attempt to break the tension which sets Dream off and they both dissolve in to laughter at the absurdity of the situation. It’s a few minutes before they manage to stop dissolving in to giggles, George laughing again every time Dream lets out a wheeze.

“God, I needed that.” George says, “I don’t know why I’m so nervous! You’re just Dream, this is so stupid.”

Dream; feeling a blow coming, pushes his sandwich away deciding he’s no longer hungry.

“Dream...” George starts, nervously. Unable to meet Dream’s eyes he continues, “I’ve come here to tell you- …The reason I’m here is- …Well, …” Finally looking up he finishes, “We can’t go back to being friends.”

Dream goes numb, and can feel himself starting to fall inwards again. “You came here to tell me we can’t be friends? Ok.” Getting up he finishes, “I can’t do this again, George.”

Quickly exiting the café Dream starts walking, not really focusing on where he’s going, just knowing he has to keep moving or he’ll break down crying in the middle of the street. Faintly he can hear, coming from somewhere behind him, George calling his name as he runs to catch up with him. Continuing to walk in a daze Dream suddenly feels hands grab him. Stopping Dream and turning him around, there’s George.

“Hey. I wasn’t finished, idiot.” George pauses and then grabs Dream, pulling him down in to a kiss. At first Dream is too shocked to respond but when George runs his hands through his hair Dream is brought out of his daze. Pulling George in by the waist, Dream lets himself return the kiss and tilts his head down to get a better angle. George tugs at his hair causing Dream to let a moan slip in to the kiss.

George pulls back a bit at this, laughing “Woah, ok. This is maybe getting a little too heated for a public situation.”

Dream continues to hold on to him, letting his head rest on George’s he whispers, “What was that?”

Both flushed and out of breath George looks up at Dream from under his eyelashes and says quietly, “I was so confused when I left that night but I couldn’t stop hearing you say those five words and I wasn’t sure why I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Eventually I realized I liked hearing you say that and, um…”

Looking directly up at Dream now George finishes, “Dream, I think I’m in love with you too... I think I have been for a while, but I didn’t understand what I was feeling until you forced me to sort of confront those feelings.”

Dream looks at George smiling shyly up at him and pulls him in for another kiss. This one soft and slow, it feels like the world has stopped around him and they’re floating off the ground. Away from their past, away from their uncertainty, and towards the future that Dream never let himself think about until now.

Dream pulls back, excitedly saying “Does this mean we’re back on for you moving in with us?”

George laughs, “Of course, idiot. This whole long-distance thing has really sucked.”

“Aw, did you miss me?” Dream teases.

George playfully shoves Dream away and they start walking, down the street “No. I missed Patches of course, poor thing having to live with you two feral humans.”

Dream laughs and shoves him back, “Oh, you’re moving in because you missed Patches? I’m sure, I’m sure…”

Dream smiles, taking George’s hand in his as they’re walking. George looks over and smiles wide back. Gripping tight they make their way home with the feeling that they’re finally right where they’re supposed to be.

#dreamnotfound #dnf #dnf fanfic #mcyt fanfic #georgenotfound #dreamwastaken #sapnap #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic

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phoebe-delia · 3 years

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Phoebes did you notice that most of the song prompts are odd numbers? I just think it's kind of neat! But for some lovely chaos in the stats, let us please have song no. 10? Also your doing this is a wonderful gift to the world and I adore you so so so so much

@rockingrobin69, Robin, my darling, hello. First of all, I'd noticed that the first ten or so were mostly odd numbers, but after you pointed it out, I realized how many odd-numbered ones I'd done! How funny. Also, before I get to tell you what song you've selected, I want to say that you and your writing are the true gifts and the feeling is very much mutual, my love. I cannot thank you enough for your constant love, support, and friendship. I absolutely adore you. <3

Another funny thing, Robin, is that you've managed to now select two out of my top three all-time favorite songs by Taylor Swift. (song prompt 3 was, ironically, my 3rd favorite TS song: "it's time to go.") But here, you've requested song 10, which is my number 1 favorite Taylor song of all time: "All Too Well."

The trouble is, I've already written one fic to this before. But no matter! I will persevere. This is technically a sequel to the original fic, but you don't have to have read it to understand this one! It is highly likely when the 10-minute version of All Too Well comes out that I will write a fic to that, but since it's not out yet, here's this. CW: post-breakup, potion/substance addiction, bad coping mechanisms, potions overdose; but there's a hopeful/happy ending!

Paralytici Memorias means "paralyzed memories" in Latin, if Google Translate is to be believed. And finally, an enormous, gigantic thank you to my big sis @avenueofesc for making this coherent and much better.

It wasn't a substitute by any means. It would never replace what it was made to mimic. In some ways, it was hopelessly inadequate.

But it was all he had: just the potion and his memories. If Draco's mind insisted on torturing him by reliving the best moments of his life in sepia-toned images, at least this way he could delay the crushing reality a little while longer.

Paralytici Memorias was his greatest triumph and biggest mistake. At first, he blamed it on completing his due diligence; every good potioneer should know and test the effects of their potion.

But then one test turned into two. Before he knew it, Draco spent the better part of his days coming in and out of deep periods of sleep, reaching for the vial every time his eyes opened to the sight of his empty flat, his engagement band on the coffee table next to him.

He wondered what Astoria would say if she could see him now. If their current level of communication as soon-to-be-weds was any indication, their marriage contract was more of a business venture than a romantic one.

After all, as long as he had a pulse, sperm for insemination, and a sound enough mind to sign over half his vaults, he'd have done his duty as her future husband as far as she was concerned.

"You'll forget about me, I promise."

His own words—written on the parchment he'd sent off with his owl before he could stop himself—were burned into his memory. He still remembered the searing pain in his chest as he promised the love of his life that what they'd had could be forgotten. In breaking Harry's heart, and in shattering his own, his only consolation was knowing that Harry would be happy eventually; that Harry would move on and find someone with the freedom to love him the way he deserved, someone who could offer the intangible riches in which Draco had always been impoverished.

As he reached for the vial that afternoon, it was to remind himself of the priceless love he sold for the price of his heart.

The potion’s effect was hazier than a Pensieve, but this way he could see the memories from his own point of view; could relive it in his own skin. Still, his mind couldn't do justice to Harry's eyes, the bright sound of his laughter, the warmth of his skin.

They were in Harry's car, the name of which Draco had never bothered to learn, too terrified and fascinated by the contraption. He yelped when Harry took a hand off the wheel to grab Draco's shaking one in a reassuring squeeze.

"Hands on the wheel, Potter!"

"I've got it under control, love. You watched me put the protection spells on the car myself, and it would be perfectly safe even without them. I promise I won't let anything happen to you," Harry said without an ounce of condescension.

Draco exhaled shakily, "If you say so."

"I do. Now, why don't you tell me a little more about where we're going?"

"Have you forgotten already? Honestly, Potter, your memory is abysmal."

"I haven't forgotten. I just like hearing you talk."

Draco valiantly didn't blush. And while he described the beauty of the Cotswolds, he found himself mesmerized at the red and orange leaved trees that lined the road as they drove out of the city and into the peaceful countryside, with its steady beeping noise.

Wait…that wasn't right. Why was it beeping?

"Potter, there's something wrong with the car."

"Draco?"

He squeezed his eyes shut tight before he opened them, blinking as the unfamiliar room came into focus. He could feel his pulse pounding in his head as his mind raced in a heady mix of confusion and anxiety. What happened? Why wasn't he in his flat?

"You're in St. Mungos."

Draco's head nearly snapped as he turned to look at a pale-faced Harry sitting in the chair next to his bed. Near Harry stood an unfamiliar woman scribbling on a clipboard. She reached over onto a side table and handed Draco a paper cup. The water was cool, a relief for his parched, sandpaper throat.

"Mr. Malfoy, how do you feel?" She asked after he handed the cup back to her.

Draco closed his eyes to stop the room from spinning. "My head is killing me and I'm dizzy, but I'm okay. What happened?"

"Your fiancée found you unconscious in your flat. We completed a blood test and couldn't match the substance to anything we know—"

"I invented it," Draco grumbled. "Where is Astoria? Harry, what are you doing here?"

The healer pressed her lips together. "I'll leave you to gather yourself for a few minutes, but I'll be back soon to ask you more about that potion, and next steps from there, alright?"

Draco nodded. "Thank you, Healer...?"

She smiled. "I'm Healer Rostova. Press that pager if you need something, but otherwise, I'll be back in a little while." With that, she left the room, the door clicking softly behind her.

Draco turned to Harry, who regarded him with wide, worried eyes. "What happened? Why are you here?"

Harry bit his lip. "Astoria found you unconscious on your couch. She brought you here and then she, well...She called me."

"She—what?"

"She called me. She said you were in the hospital, and I didn't really think much beyond Apparating here."

"Why did she call you?"

"She said you were...talking in your sleep."

Draco blushed. "Oh."

"Yeah," Harry let out a humorless, breathy chuckle. "She figured it out, I think. She said to tell you that she's having her parents terminate the contract."

Draco closed his eyes, letting his head thud against the headboard and then instantly regretting it, gritting his teeth against the sharp pain. "Great. I bet Mother's furious."

"She'll come around."

"You don't know that. You don't know her."

"No, I don't, but hopefully she'll want you to do what makes you happy."

Draco clenched his jaw and looked away. "Happiness is easier to manage when it's artificial. I ran away from the only thing that ever brought me close to real happiness. I can't handle it."

"Then let's manage it together."

Draco closed his eyes, kept his head turned.

"Draco, look at me."

Slowly, Draco forced himself to look at Harry, opening his eyes to let the other man see the tears beginning to well.

Harry's expression was as pained, yet kind. "Do you have any idea how agonizing it has been to miss you?"

Draco's chest seized, sharp with regret. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I thought it was what's best for both of us, I—"

"Shhh," Harry leaned forward, rubbing a soothing hand over Draco's. "We'll make it okay. We'll figure this out together, alright?"

Draco kept his eyes open, let himself enjoy happiness in full color. "Okay. Together."

Send me an ask about Harry Potter, broadway/musicals, The West Wing, and/or Taylor Swift! Or just about life in general :).

Also, I have a playlist of my 99 most listened-to songs of the year so far. Pick a number 1--99 and send me an ask and I'll write you a fic based on it!

#drarry #draco malfoy #harry potter #drarry fic #drarry fanfic #drarry fanfiction #draco and harry #harry and draco #draco x harry #harry x draco #cw: addiction #cw: post breakup #angst with a happy ending #hpdm #drarry squad

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andromedasstarship · 3 years

Text

in the stars - chapter 2

photo credits - @ssahotchnerr

pairing - aaron hotchner x reader

warnings - canon-typical criminal minds violence, show rating 16+ for reference. depictions of violence, stalking, murder, angst, age gap couple, language

summary - You and Aaron reunite, but it’s not exactly anything to celebrate over. The case moves forward, but you really wish it hadn’t like this.

a/n - no one is allowed to call me out on my lack of LA/california geographical knowledge. ive also started including readers mental thought train which is italicized (flashbacks will also be in italics, but ill always properly mark a flashback). if you arent tagged but asked, just send another ask/reply! i mustve missed it on accident.

blog rules

masterlist // read it on ao3 here

chapter 1 // chapter 3

-----

Chapter 2

Aaron Hotchner was standing in front of you. Impeccable, not even a slight crease in his shoes and suit pressed to perfection. He still smelled faintly like cedar, a thought you quickly tried to send away; it was too late though, already remembering how pitiful it was post breakup, when you would smell the shirts he left at your house, a desperate attempt to remember that he existed in your life. You’d spent hours, days even, thinking about how you’d react if you were ever to see Aaron in person again. At the top of the list was screaming at him, really giving him a piece of your mind for leaving the way he did. Or, maybe you’d be cool and composed, the epitome of maturity and ‘I’m Totally Over You’. You’d even considered completely ignoring him, not even giving him a second glance. Instead you were frozen to the spot, staring up at the man who broke your heart.

Pulling your eyes away from him, they darted towards the gap between his body and outside, internally debating if you’d be able to somehow sneak around him. As if he could read your mind, not like you had been particularly subtle, he moved to close the gap before you had the chance to fully formulate an escape.

“Y/N,” he tried again, voice a bit firmer this time around. It’d be better if he couldn’t speak. But then again he had such a beautiful voice-. No, you mentally clamped down on that thought before it could lead you down another rabbit hole. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you, uh, what?” You asked, hyper aware of how mousy you must’ve sounded.

“That someone was murdering women that looked like you. You should’ve called my team sooner, it was irresponsible to put yourself at further risk of-”

“Are you trying to imply that this is somehow my fault, Agent Hotchner?” The words felt bitter on your tongue. It wasn’t like you, to suddenly be so quick to anger. Years in the spotlight had taught you to hold your tongue, but Aaron’s words managed to cut right through.

“That’s not what I’m saying, you know that-,” he tried to interject, but you weren’t going to back down so easy.

“I know what Agent? Please, tell me the acceptable response to this situation,” you spat out at him, finding a brief enjoyment in the way his face scrunched up ever so slightly. “The police were working on the case, I’ve dealt with weirdos before.” Aaron opened his mouth again as if to speak, but you weren’t finished, “You really think I believed you’d answer if I called?”

His face fell at that and you felt some form of internal victory swell in your chest. Y/N 1 point, Aaron Hotchner 0. The victory was short lived though, as you came to the realization that the two of you were still in a very public setting.

“I’m not going to fight with you Agent, I suggest you get back to your team.” With that you shoved your way past him, stomping the entire way to your car. It was a shame, the way the anger and sadness was consuming you, maybe if it hadn’t, this time you would’ve noticed the clicking coming from the tree line.

----

Hotch wished you had been angry; it would’ve been easier to handle you if you had been screaming in his face or throwing low-blow comments his way. He could deal with anger. It’d be easier if he could pretend that you were being completely out of line and could warrant being ignored for the rest of the case.

That wasn’t you though, and he knew this. He didn’t have to be a profiler to see and hear the way you struggled to hold yourself together. He didn’t need to be a profiler to feel how disappointed you were with him. Hotch didn’t know how to deal with this or you. Even though it had been months, had he truly fallen so far from your graces; was your opinion so lowly of him now?

Hotch wasn’t sure which was worse to stomach, the fact that you had such little faith in him or the deep rooted feeling in his gut that told him you were right- had you called him unannounced two months ago, he wouldn’t have picked up the phone.

----

You sat in your car for twenty minutes, at least. It was pitiful, the way you were crying in your car, to a sad playlist, over a guy who hurt your feelings; it felt like high school all over again. In the moment, you had felt good, the way you watched Aaron’s face twist and fall at your words giving you some sick form of satisfaction.

It’s not like you had lied to him or anything. You hadn’t even stretched the truth for ultimate impact. The whole overly formal ‘Agent’ thing was definitely on purpose though. No, you had meant every word you said to Aaron, especially about not believing he’d answer if you called. What would you have even said if you called and he did pick up? Hi Aaron, remember me? Good, anyway hope you’re doing well but I think I have a murderous stalker, can you help? Actually, that’s probably exactly how the conversation would’ve gone, but that’s beside the point.

The point was that even if you could trust the Unit Chief of the BAU to do his job, you weren’t sure you could trust Aaron Hotchner anymore.

----

When you finally did muster up the courage to return to the conference room, you really wished you hadn’t. You should’ve just turned your car on and left. Was it possible to ghost the FBI? You’d heard enough stories from Aaron about how their tech wizard had found people with just a single loose thread, there was definitely no way you were going to make some spy like disappearance.

Aaron wasn’t in the room, something you were grateful for in the moment. But what you weren’t grateful for was how the team had managed to set up multiple bulletin boards in your absence; filled with your photo, crime scene photos, the dead women and your personal least favorite, the dead women’s bodies.

Of course, you knew what was going on, you were a big girl, well old enough to understand and process the gravity of the situation. But you’d only seen photos of the women alive, with personality and humanity; something about that made them look less like you and more like them. Looking at them now- dead, eyes closed, faces tilted away from the camera- these women didn’t just look like you, they were you.

You hadn’t even realized you were drifting closer to one of the boards until you felt a hand pull at the crook of your elbow. Turning your head ever so slightly you saw JJ, giving you one of her nice looks again.

“Y/N, you don’t need to see these,” JJ started, already pulling you in the opposite direction. You were about to agree, head already halfway to a full nod when you noticed something from the corner of your eye.

“Wait!” You exclaimed, pulling your arm back and getting right in front of a photo of victim #2. You very gently pulled the photo of the wall and held it closely in front of your face. Were you allowed to move it? Oh well. You felt the rest of the team’s eyes burning holes through your back so you turned to face them. “I, um, I’m pretty sure the sweater she’s wearing is mine.” You said, voice coming out as a whisper.

The team certainly seemed to liven up at that statement. Even though they hadn’t even been in LA for a full 24 hours yet, it was obvious from the start that LAPD hadn’t been lacking on the case, rather the unsub was just that good. They reported no evidence from any dump sites,- and now those sites had been contaminated far too much to double check- there had been no witnesses for any of the abductions, and the unsub hadn’t attempted any contact with Y/N; all in all, they had nothing.

“Y/N, are you sure?” Emily asked, she was quickly pulling photos of the other three women down, bringing them over to the roundtable. “Are the women in these photos wearing anything else you recognize?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m sure. There’s a little hole right there, on the side, the threads were pretty loose and I got stuck on a doorknob once, ripped it right open. I couldn’t find it when I went to fix it, just assumed I threw it away and forgot.” You said quietly, moving your way to the table. Your brain wasn’t working properly, hadn’t quite yet come to the conclusion that the rest of the agents already reached. He had gotten into your house. “Oh my god.” You whispered, voice shaking. “He was in my house, wasn’t he?”

The agents all looked down at you with sympathetic gazes before Emily finally spoke up again. “We can’t be sure just yet, but I need you to look at these photos and tell me if you recognize anything else okay? Can you do that for me?”

You nodded, making your way over to the table and taking a seat. You were well aware one of the agents just called for Hotch, but you couldn’t be bothered with that right now.

----

“Hotch,” Derek said, his voice urgent as he rounded the corner, interrupting whatever conversation Hotch was having with a random officer, “Y/N recognized the sweater victim #2 was wearing at the dumpsite as hers. Emily’s showing her the rest of the photos and it’s looking like the unsub left something of hers on each one.”

That certainly got Hotch’s attention. He didn’t need Derek to fill in the blank, the unsub had been in your house. His fists tightened at his side and he couldn’t help the way his face twisted in anger. In this state, Derek knew better than to question this unusually personal reaction, instead just angling his body back towards the conference room. He didn’t even have a chance to open his mouth before Hotch brushed past him, making his way back to you.

----

Starting with a photo of victim #1, you very slowly pulled it closer in front of you. Oh my god, her neck. Obviously, you’ve seen bruises before, been on a whole bunch of film sets that used makeup to create some pretty gory pieces, but nothing like this. The unsub didn’t just stangle these women, it was like he wanted to completely crush their throats.

One of the agents behind you was questioning your ability to stomach this, so you quickly forced yourself to focus. It was the least you could do for these poor women, just give them your undivided attention for ten minutes, and then you could deal with everything else later.

Your finger traced over the bracelet victim #1 was wearing. “This is mine. There’s a singular heart engraved on the back of the third diamond’s plating. I bought it for myself after I got cast in my first big role, cried for weeks when I ‘lost’ it.”

“And what about this one?” Emily asked, gently pulling victim #1’s photo away from you and replacing it with #4. You didn’t miss the way she turned the photos you’d already looked at upside down, as if to further shield you from them. Nor did you miss that she was technically skipping victim #3.

It didn’t take you long to notice what was yours on victim #4. “It’s the dress, it’s really comfy, I used to wear it a lot, like a lot a lot. I brought it with me so often on trips I just assumed it got left in a hotel room somewhere.”

Emily nodded, taking back that photo and turning it over as well. You could see her hesitation in showing you victim #3, but she slid it across the table to you as well. Her fingertips ghosting on the edge of the photo, ready to pull it back as soon as you gave an answer.

Victim #3 was tough. She looked the most like you, both when she was alive and certainly the way she looked now.

You took a sharp intake of breath as you looked down at her the first thing that caught your eye was the necklace. Most certainly yours and most certainly the one that Aaron had given you for your three year anniversary. You realized it was lost a few months after the breakup and nearly tore your house apart looking for it; you didn’t have many things from your relationship with Aaron to prove he was once part of your life, making the few things you did have all the more important. “The necklace, there’s an A engraved on the back and I’m pretty sure those shoes are mine too.” Emily swept the photo back and out of view as soon as the last words left your lips.

“JJ, get those items out of evidence immediately so we can be absolutely sure,” Hotch ordered. Aaron. You hadn’t even realized he had walked into the room, you turned to look at him, eyes wide with sadness and fear. The tears that were beginning to form tugged viciously on his heart. “Miss L/N, my team and I are going to escort you back to your home and we’re going to need to canvas it for signs of entry and identify if anything else is missing. Is that okay?” He asked, his voice soft with something most of the members couldn’t place.

You simply nodded at that, glad that you wouldn’t have to be alone, “Do you need my address, or will you just follow my car?” There was definitely humor in that, Aaron already knew exactly where you lived and the code to get through the gates.

“Your address is already in our files, but for your safety we’ll be following close behind.” He assured you. The rest of the team was jumping into action, grabbing their personal belongings along with copious amounts of gloves and bags you assumed would be for potential evidence.

As you all exited the building and entered your respective vehicles, it was Reid who realized where he’d heard that softness in Hotch’s voice before. It was the same tone he used to use with Hayley, back when things were good.

----

Your house wasn’t far and it was a drive you knew well; grateful for the ability to somewhat distract yourself on the road. The gatesman to your development gave you a real odd look when you told him the two black SUV’s filled with FBI agents were with you, but you couldn’t care less about which neighbor he might spread that info too. Did you see? L/N brought in the FBI, wonder what she’s caught up in. At least all the neighbors and workers had signed airtight NDAs, no one was allowed to talk to any outsiders about the personal happenings of their fellow residents.

Your house was towards the top of the hill, with a great overlook to the ocean. You had only been 20 when you bought the house and you viewed it as the ultimate achievement of all your hard work and determination. You couldn't shake the bad taste in your mouth as you pulled up the driveway. The house felt tainted now, something you were never sure you’d be able to shake.

----

Once again, not exactly how you imagined the entire team entering your house for the first time. Your house was extensive, as were the grounds; the team quickly realized they would probably be here for the rest of the day and well into the night.

You were standing awkwardly in the middle of your foyer, unsure of how to exactly approach this situation. “So, there’s about 10 rooms in the house, not including the kitchen and general living spaces, as well with the basement which is technically one big room. I made maps once as a joke, I think I have some in the office, if you wanted those? Or we could do one big house tour and you can break off that way,” you were so rambling, but them being in your house and why they were in your house was setting in, “or you can just go off however you want-”

“Miss L/N,” JJ said, there was that nice look again, “why don’t you show me around the house so I can get a base level understanding of everything there is. The rest of my team will go start a basic canvas of the inside and the grounds as well.” Thank you JJ.

You nodded at this, glad that someone else was taking control of the situation. Before you could lead JJ towards the kitchen, your phone started to ring, startling you. When did you get this skittish?

“My friend is calling,” you said, holding up your phone, “I gotta take this, I was supposed to meet him for coffee a few minutes ago.” You excused yourself, quickly making your way to an empty room away from the rest of the team. Your friend was annoyed at your more than last minute cancellation, but luckily he didn’t pry too hard and accepted your flimsy “I’m not feeling too well’ excuse on the first go.

“I know, I’m sorry, but I promise I’ll make it up to you as soon as I feel better. Yeah, I love you too. I gotta go, bye.” As you hung up, you could feel a gaze burning into the back of your head. Turning around, you found Aaron staring down at you from the doorway. How long had he been there?

“You should have told us about your boyfriend sooner. Trying to protect him from questioning will only-”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you exclaimed, a bit too hurriedly, “I, uh, I’m not seeing anyone at all actually, haven’t in a while.” Smooth.

Aaron was smart enough to read through the lines and understand what you had left unsaid. His gaze didn’t give up, but you could’ve swore you saw relief somewhere in his eyes. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to say something, or if he was supposed to say something, or should you walk out, or-

“Neither have I.” Hotch’s voice broke through your thoughts, but just as quickly as he said it, he turned on his heel and left you alone in the room.

----

a/n - if anyone is wondering ive 100% cried multiple times at how kind and supportive everyone has been with me about this story. we’re only 2 chapters in but im already sad for it to end. yes i 100% have a bunch of other wip ideas for hotch. anywaaaaaaay, replies/asks/comments/reblogs/likes always appreciated! thank you so much for reading

Taglist: @mac99martin @iwaizumiee @kylorendrip @hqtchner @lieswithoutfairytales @ssahoodrathotchner @midsummernightdream @weasleylovers @evans-dejong @itsmytimetoodream @yoshigguk @28cnn @cuddlyklaus @hotch-meeeeeuppppp

no permission is given to republish or upload my fics anywhere else. if you see this story not on my tumblr or ao3 it is stolen work. i do not own criminal minds or any of the characters involved

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotchner x reader #hotch #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #'stori writes #in the stars

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imagine-lcorp · 3 years

Text

Between Two Lungs (One Shot)

A/N: Hello dears, so here it is the infamous fic I’ve been writing. I really hope this fullfils my dream of crushing your hearts once again and that you have a fun time agonizing over this final choice. Because yes, I’ve made this a multiending fic...As always, remember to tell me what you think, is it something you want me to keep doing for other fics? Also, how did you feel after this? pls let me know. Also i made this PLAYLIST if you want to add some feeling to this while reading... Enjoy!

Lena Luthor x R/Hanahaki AU//Word Count: 3,464

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

It is possible to die of a broken heart.

You look it up somewhere in the internet. It's similar to a heart attack, caused by a very strong and emotionally stressful event. The death of a loved one, a breakup, a betrayal. It's treatable and rarely fatal. Following the recommendations of your doctor, you can make a full recovery within weeks. Still, it is possible to die of it.

You don't have a broken heart. You wish you had one. Because love, the one only you feel, is growing inside of you and it is much worse than that.

Thankfully, compared to others your condition it's not as painful as it could be.

You have heard about people with roses inside them, how their thorns puncture their pharynges with every breath they take. Others don't get flowers. They get apple or cherry trees with their fruits pouring juice inside their lungs and out of their mouths. Some others have pines and spruces, with cones constricting their organs and rib-cages until they bones break.

So you look at the small white petal that lays in your hand and think that, in your case, it is something almost magnanimous.

Plumerias have no thorns and, even though some can be a bit thick, their branches are soft enough to bend around your heart and lungs without much trouble. Their petals, small and delicate, rise easily up your throat without lacerating it in a coughing fit.

Maybe, you want to think in a very optimist way, if you can keep that love from growing further, you won't have to suffer through it.

Maybe.

So you prescribe for your own heart solitude and abstinence.

The first one is the easiest.

You tell your friends you are sick and need some time to recover. Most of them get worried as they don't know yet what illness has fallen upon you in these troublesome times.

"You know, If you wanted, I could get you a full medical examination." Alex offers with a raised eyebrow, giving you the look of the always concerned big sister.

"Thanks, but it's alright." You assure them with a smile. "I was thinking about spending some time at home anyway."

After a lot of questions you manage to dodge in the end, they decide there's no reason to doubt your intentions. So they leave you to your own devices.

Homemade remedies, or herbicides depending on who you ask, seem to help as you spend your days at home. Drinking some salt water with lemon in the morning, or a couple of vinegar tablespoons in a cup of tea before going to bed. They don't taste that bad once you get used to the flavor and these help you ease the new bitterness that you taste in the back of your throat.

The second is a bit harder.

You have to stop yourself from dreaming her, thinking her, missing her.

She has texted you a few times already, wanting to know how you're doing and offering her help if you don't feel like you're doing okay on your own. You handle it as best as you can. You text back, consistently enough and with measured time and words, so you don't raise any red flags. When you don't seem to answer she calls, but just thinking about hearing her voice makes your chest hurt a little.

You never answer. She doesn't try to call again. You spit your first handful of flowers after that.

It's all fine, you lie to yourself, at least until the pain reaches your insides and white petals come out of you mouth dappled in red.

"You need to tell her." Kara says softly as she pats your back after another coughing fit.

You cover your mouth with your hand, making sure there are no signs of blood or petals as you tight it into a fist. "Tell who what?"

"Tell Lena about the flowers." She sighs when she fells you freeze under her touch. "Sorry. Alex told me if I could get a clear shot at your lungs maybe we could figure out how to help. I didn't expect it to be... well, flowers."

It shouldn't come as a surprise to you but you are still amazed at how easy it is to forget Kara has x-ray vision when she's not wearing her suit. With or without it, she's still the same caring and protective person you have always known. It also explains why she has been so adamant about having lunch together, at least once a week, after your failed attempt at convincing her you were doing well after a month alone. You couldn't expect less from your best friend, you remind yourself as you catch your breath.

"How do you know it's her?" The taste is bitter as you swallow the rest of blood and petals in your mouth.

"It's plumerias, isn't it?" She rubs your back again as you regain you posture. "They are her favorites."

There are a couple of red tainted petals in your palm when you open your hand. "Yeah, they are."

Kara looks at you and you see something in her you don't think you have ever seen before in the Girl of Steel. But you recognize it, because you feel the same way. Hopeless. Helpless. Powerless.

"(Y/N)." She says like she's already grieving. "It's spreading fast."

The easiest way to get ride of the disease is by removing its seed from your heart, the doctor says. No more than an hour in the operating room and your respiratory system would be as good as new. Common symptoms after the surgery can include aches between your shoulder blades, ribs, back of the neck or chest, weakness and hoarseness in your voice, and, in general, some memory loss and the inability to experiment intense or deep affection towards another person. Most of these stop shortly after you recover, except for the last one.

More experimental methods have been developed with the help of biotherapy. Experts in Japan are said to have reduced the spread of the flowers with other plants like kudzu or barberry, while someone in Europe has been using thrips to eat the plant and control its growth. It's like using maggots to eat your wounds, the doctor explains more enthusiastic than you feel.

You could, of course, try the simplest of things and confess your love.

It only takes to be loved in return for you to heal before any permanent damage is done. The seed that grows in your heart will almost instantly wither, the cough will purge the last of the flowers out of your lungs, and your recovery will last only a couple of weeks. You will breathe again.

But, if your love goes unrequited, you'll reach your fatal end in a matter of days. Doctors will give you a double dose of morphine or induce a coma trying to ease your pain. Flowers, fruits and cones bloom, branches and thorns grow. You convulse and gasp until your last breath when the biggest flowers come out of your mouth. All until your thorax is transformed, beautifully and violently, into a garden of flesh and blood.

Anyone who has seen it happen will tell you, how shocking it is to witness such a thing.

Whatever the case, this only serves to confirm what you already know. You can't be optimistic anymore.

You're dying and you will die, soon with flowers in your lungs or after many years with a loveless heart. Because this life and death of yours, you think, cannot be, shall not be, decided by a coin in the air.

And yet.

"It's flowers...in my lungs." You can almost tell which direction the flower stalks take inside your chest as the words form in your mouth.

"Oh." Lena says as she starts to fidget with her hands.

The anger, that had been growing inside her after weeks of vague replies and evasions, vanishes in her eyes the moment she understands what you're going through.

"Have you...talked to the other person?"

"No, not really. Not yet." You try not to lose your composure as you feel the flowers threatening to rise up your throat.

"Will you?" She asks.

You take a deep breath, feeling the gravity pull your already heavy heart down. "It's plumerias."

"Plumerias?" You can see the moment it dawns on Lena, and the look she gives you makes you wish again you could die of a broken heart instead.

"Miss Luthor, I'm sorry but the board meeting will start shortly."

Jess opens the door a second later and it gives you time to look at the other side and place your hand in your chest. As if that could possibly stop your heart and lungs from collapsing.

"Thank you, Jess. I'll be there." Lena dismisses her with a nod and looks again at you.

She doesn't say anything else and you feel a coughing fit building in your lungs. Stronger than you have ever felt it.

"(Y/N)!" She leaves her chair, running towards you.

You cover your mouth as your chest feels like a boxer is using it as a punching bag. I doesn't feel like it will end quick and when it finally does the only thing that remains is pain.

You thank the chair that holds you in place as you catch your breath.

"I'm fine. It's fine." You don't want her to see it, but she manages to catch a glimpse of the bloody petals that cover your palm once you recover.

"No, it's not, (Y/N). You're dying and I-"

"It's not your fault." You cut her off, shaking your head and taking a little napkin from you pocket to clean yourself as best as you can.

The death, the break, the betrayal. You feel it all as worry and pity finally merge in her eyes. There's also guilt when she looks at you. It is there along with everything else she doesn't feel for you. So you don't want an apology, especially not from her, especially not like this.

"You're my friend and I just- I wanted you to know. I got my surgery already programmed."

"Surgery?" You watch her draw back a bit in surprise.

"I'll be fine." You lie again.

"(Y/N), I-"

"Miss Luthor, the board-"

"I know!" Lena snaps and, when she realizes the magnitude of her reaction, she retracts, taking a deep breath for herself before answering. "Sorry, yes. Do you think you could hold it for a minute?"

"You should go." You say with a small voice before any of them can say more. "The meeting, sounds important."

"(Y/N)..." The way she pronounces your name makes you want to be over with this already. You just can't stand it anymore.

"We'll talk later." You say. "We got time."

She wants to argue, you know, but you won't, can't, do it. Still, you pull a little smile for her.

"We'll talk later." She replies with a nod.

There will be time for another conversation. There will be time. There will be time. There will be time. You repeat it like a mantra to help you carry yourself out of her office.

Everything else after that passes like a blur.

You know you reach the front door of the building, with the voice of the receptionist behind your back offering to call for help. You stumble on the sidewalk trying to hold onto light poles and signposts to keep yourself from falling. You clutch your hand in your chest as the pain reaches its peak. Flowers come pouring out of your mouth and you gasp for air as you finally fall.

You're delirious by the time you land on the hospital bed.

Many faces come and go then, doctors, nurses, friends, ghosts, both the living and the death. The only constants are your dying gasps and the painful beating of your heart until the morphine does its work. It helps you see, with certain clarity the only face that can make a difference.

"You listen to me, alright? I'm sorry I didn't say anything earlier." You open your heavy lids at the sound of her voice, and you see those emerald eyes for what could be the last time. "I love you, (Y/N), please, I love you."

You hear her words, or you don't, or it is simply to late to care anymore. The coin is in the air and there's no more time.

***

☞ You let yourself drift into darkness as the plumerias are pulled to a better light. The garden is gone and what is left behind is only an empty carcass. You cannot stand the emptiness and your heart does what it should have done from the beginning. It breaks and breaks and breaks...

***

☞ Your mind tries to grasp her words but you find your heart too weak to keep a hold of them. So you let them pass through like a shadow. No need for them anymore as the anesthesia and the scalpel give you a break from all this suffering. There will be no flowers and it is, truly, not as bad as it could be...

***

☞ Her words suddenly hit you in their full meaning and your mind does its best to keep and save them into your heart. Even through branches and petals, it has the effect of an echo chamber, repeating those words like a healing prayer. I love you. I love you. I love you...

#Between Two Lungs #One shot #lena luthor #lena luthor x reader #lena luthor imagine #lena luthor imagines #lena luthor x you #lena x reader #lena x you

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thoughts-on-bangtan · 3 years

Note

What do you think of JM’s updated Spotify? I don’t normally read into things, but his song choices makes me sad. “At my worst” “I can’t be myself (excuse me while I cry) & “When was it over?” With the lyrics “was it that fight we didn’t have when I came in? Was it the first time you saw me drunk? Second time I said I’m sorry?” It sounds like a replay of Vmins dumpling incident and it worries me. JM looked off in the recent live, almost sad and pouty lately. Do you think I’m over analyzing it?

Admin 1: The short answer to this would be: yes, you are over analyzing things.

The longer one would be that, for example, Pink Sweat$'s At My Worst isn't a sad song, it's actually the exact opposite. It's a very cute and romantic song. Just look at the first verse:

Can I call you baby? Can you be my friend? Can you be my lover up��until the very end? Let me show you love, oh, no pretend Stick by my side even when the world is caving in, yeah

I'd actually argue this kinda sounds like a mixture between Sweet Night and Friends when it comes to the sentiment of those words. I’ve seen some people even claim that this will replace Ed Sheeran’s romantic songs that have so far been used at every wedding ever because of how sweet it is.

Then we have Justin Bieber’s I can’t be myself which I believe you probably only looked at the title and jumped to conclusions because, again, this isn’t a sad song either. The lyrics are more about how Justin (or whoever) cannot be himself when you (I’d guess he likely means his wife) isn’t by his side, thus wanting to say that he is happiest and most himself when they are together. It’s sweet and lovely, not sad.

I could travel any place But without you, it's just runnin' around (Girl, I'm just runnin' around) They could open Heaven's gates But without you, I'm just stuck in the clouds (Yeah, yeah)

Lastly, from the songs you specifically highlighted, is Sasha Sloan’s when was it over? which yes, I’ll admit this one is a sad song about not being able to let go even though you know there is nothing left. The song though has a very calm sound, something you’d listen to in the evening, and something I could see both him and Tae like listening to, not because Jimin relates to the lyrics but because it’s simply a pretty song.

On my current playlist I have Stromae’s Formidable, a song about a heartbroken man getting wasted after a breakup. I’ve neither gotten my heart broken nor am I sad and yet I still love this song because it’s just a really good song. Sometimes that’s the only reason we need to listen to a song. Nothing more to it.

All that to say that I don’t believe there is any correlation whatsoever to be made here, especially since Tae and Jimin look more than happy in recent months (did you notice Jimin happily smiling at Tae during their most recent performance of Butter for Colbert at the beginning of their subunit dance?) and there is nothing that could indicate to us that something went wrong between them, or that Jimin could be sad or something bad going on with him. I mean, look at JKs playlist and the fact that he has Billie Eilish’s Your Power on it, applying your thought process, does that mean that JK is trying to tell us he went through something similar to Billie? That he is sad? Or do you think he simply recommended that song because he likes Billie’s music? The last one seems the most likely, doesn’t it?

So, to sum it all up, there is absolutely no need to worry, seriously.

Admin 2: In the evenings, when it's very quiet and my big city has fallen asleep, I really enjoy listening to Sweet Night. I also like to go back to 4 O'Clock from time to time (although I know I will cry). Does that mean I missed my chance in life to be with my beloved? No and no again! I've never been in a situation like this, I wasn't unhappy or "fragily" in love, no one abandoned me or cheated on me. I listen to these songs because I love them. They match the mood of the evening and calm me down despite the sad lyrics and let me fall asleep peacefully.

I am a person who listens to a lot of songs from the past; Songs that remind me of situations, remind me of years of studying, enable me to relive certain situations.

Dear Anon, thank you very much for your question (confession), but I admit that I see it as "looking for some kind of backdoor" so to speak, a way to create a loophole and deny everything after all.

I don't know who you are, I don't know if you really are a Vminnie, but I think you are clinging to any possibility of a situation to undermine the reality or existence of Vmin. That's how I see it, if I offend you, I apologize. The more we get new materials about Tae and Jimin every day, like them being cute in the McDonald's behind the scenes, the more such "sad thoughts" we get sent to us through asks every day.

Firstly, I'm not sure if Jimin (and Taehyung) is fluent enough in English to capture the accuracy of the lyrics and understand its message. Of course, you can translate it, but for that to happen first the song has to catch your attention, and usually it's the melody and the overall feeling of a song that does it, and not the lyrics. And that is the point!

I think Jimin picked these tracks because he simply likes them. Perhaps he first paid attention to the melodies and the mood and only then understood the lyrics sometime later.

A lot of people (including me) hear some kind of song instead of another because they are intrigued by the melody or the association with a particular situation. The mood that fits the moment, the weather, the time of day or many other things which lead us to choose this song and not another.

Maybe Jimin and Taehyung were driving at night and listening to the song on the radio, maybe they were in a romantic mood back then, just having dinner together or taking a half bath together. Ha ha, I know I am deceiving and romanticizing what I am saying to reflect the vast possibilities and reasons why you listen to music like this and no other. Jimin putting together this list of songs for his spotify playlist doesn't mean he listens to it all the time, every day, but that he has the songs he likes on his list and chose the ones he wants to hear right now, or that he thought ARMY could like.

Of course, I'm sure he listens to very different songs during exercising than the one lying in bed before falling asleep. Maybe he's listening to this list, just like we hear the songs from BTS? We know individual words after repeating them several times, and we generally know (as we decide to read translations) what is going on in a particular song, but we don't understand all the words accurately. Not all of us are in the same situation as described in a particular song, but still we listen to it because we like it, because BTS sings it, because we are waiting for a solo from Suga etc. etc. etc.

For some time now we have been seeing (I see) Vmin happy, even very happy, as if "after the night the day came and after the storm came peace" (by the way, these are the words of one of my favorite songs), I have the impression that Vmin have finished fighting all their fights and they are just happy now, finally. Taehyung looks like a million dollars, he's literally glowing and far more lively than he was a year ago.

To him, Jimin is like smooch like butter and someone he likes the most. Taehyung is a handsome and hot chingu for Jimin who he also likes him the most as well. Tell me dear Anon, where is there room for fear and doubt in the love they share? Why and on what basis do you suspect that Vmin has broken up, or is having problems, or that either of them is unhappy? Besides, if one of them has an off day or is simply tired after a packet schedule and thus doesn't look as animated, why is that immediately read as "Jimin and Tae aren't together anymore" or "they are drifting apart" when chances are far more likely that it has nothing to do with their bond? Based on the playlist, or based on Vlive, or maybe based on both of these events, what is the correlation?

I've seen the Vlive. To tell the truth, I didn't see a sad and pouty Jimin there. Instead, I saw Taehyung smiling and content, and Jimin smiled and admired Tae's new hairstyle. I watched the latest BTS interviews. Vmin stared at each other, Jimin stared at Tae with a big smile that only grew in size and the two communicated with their eyes.

Jimin caressed Taehyung's back/butt in the Butter MV making Episode and said there’s butter here (though it wasn’t translated in the subs).

In the McD ad they were together and standing next to each other, even with Jimin resting his head on Tae's shoulder and then Jimin eating Tae's chicken nugget from his hand.

Honestly, I don't know what else Vmin would have to do to keep people from doubting their bond and happiness. They have shown us so much, I think they have reached the limit of what can be said without saying it bluntly.

Most importantly, this is a very interesting situation as we have never had as much "dubious news/content" (not meant negatively at all) as we have now after Taehyung's interview with his ‘confession’/clarification about Sweet Night. To me it smells a bit like someone wants to cause fear or plant the seed of doubt, or be like a trojan horse with the underlying idea of course being that "well...we must be wrong" even though there’s no reason for us to believe/think that.

#Jimin #Taehyung #vmin #song analysis #answered ask

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fukurodaze · 4 years

Text

fear of losing

pairing: exboyfriend!oikawa tooru x fem!reader genre/s: angst, pining, some kinda fluff word count: 2k warnings: mentions of inferiority complex (both reader and oikawa), mild swearing, reader passing out from over exhaustion synopsis: you never realised that hurting oikawa tooru meant hurting yourself.

lowercase intended.

oh, god. you hate him. so much.

so much that you refuse to loop your arms around oikawa tooru’s neck when he carries you, bridal style, across the hallways of aoba johsai high school. you’re only half conscious, but you use every bit of consciousness to stay limp in oikawa’s arms, as if making it harder for him to carry you; as if he would give up on carrying you and leave it up to someone else. as if.

it’s as if you hate that he still cares about you. and it makes you feel so utterly shit because you’ve spent so much time shutting him out, yet he welcomes you in his arms, his heartbeat fast in your ears.

he still cares, huh?

it’s all a blur until you wake up to the smell of antiseptic solution and a hard mattress underneath you. the white light is bright in your eyes, which doesn’t help with the painful ache in your temples. your throat is dry, your limbs weak. you turn to your side, body crawled up in a little ball. you feel small. somewhere in the room, you hear dialogue between the nurse and a familiar male voice nearing you, and you debate with yourself whether or not to keep your eyes closed or sit up.

“oh. she’s awake.” too late.

the nurse calls your name and you have no choice but to get up and rub your temples. it still aches.

“she passed out during fifth per-”

“during maths. fifth period.” you throw a glare at oikawa, and he takes a step back. when the nurse asks you whether or not you’ve been eating or sleeping properly, you only attempt to answer.

“it’s exams next week.” the nurse only raises a brow, and you’re told that answer’s not good enough.

“i like to revise. and it’s not like i’m going to pull all-nighters during exams. i’m not that stu-”

“you shouldn’t be pulling all nighters, l/n. not at your age, at least.”

you stop yourself from scoffing at her words, and your eyes roll ever so slightly in annoyance when the nurse goes to get some vitamins from the drawer. oikawa sees it, and makes a mental note to rephrase the nurse’s words to you once you’ve swallowed the vitamins.

your eyes flicker over to oikawa, eyebrows furrowing at how he isn’t leaving. rather, he’s sitting on the chair opposite of the bed, and as you set down the glass of water, your mouth dries up again, this time not because you hadn’t drank anything for twelve hours, but because you’ve seemingly forgotten how to talk to oikawa tooru.

when the room is quiet and the nurse goes back to clicking on her desk, oikawa stirs. “when was the last time you slept?”

“i’ve done this before, i’m fine.”

“you’re not answering my question.”

there’s a cracking silence that strikes the room. “i told you, i’m-”

“no. how long?”

“i still eat regularly, so it’s-”

“one day? two days?” his voice is soft, but firm, too firm, that you can’t take it.

“since monday.” you mumble, but you know he can hear. it’s thursday afternoon. you tuck your hair behind your ears, eyes downcast, not ready to meet his disappointment.

oikawa stands up halfway before he sits himself down again. his laugh is dry when you hear it. “you finally broke.”

your voice quiets down, but you force it out. “how are you any different?”

oikawa stirs in his seat once more, as if he’d been well aware of how he overworks himself, too.

“how are you any different when you need a fucking knee brace when you play? how are you any different when you can’t seem to catch a motherfucking break, but you still act like you’re above it all?”

“this isn’t about me!” oikawa grips the sides of his chair, holding himself back. he wants to storm off, because he knows what you’re about to bring up, but he stays back.

“no. it is. you don’t have the right to talk to me like a little child because we are the same. and i know that because you and me, we both know that we,” and you voice starts cracking, “that we- we are never going to be-”

“stop it.”

“we will never be... there.” you curve your words a little, not wanting to feel the pain yourself.

push him out, push him out, you tell yourself. it doesn’t matter if you hurt yourself, as long as he’s gone, you think. you don’t want- no, you don’t need him to care for you. all he’s going to do is treat you like some spike for his ego, as if saying, look here! this person can’t hurt me!

you look back at oikawa, and his head is turned away. his arms are folded as he slouches on the chair, his uniform rolled up to his elbows. you hear no response.

“that’s enough,” he speaks, and you feel the tears prickling in the corners of your eyes. they’re hot against your skin, and as they threaten to come out, your neck feels itself warm up with the rest of your body. you’re frustrated. so, so frustrated that it makes your blood boil. so, so frustrated that you can’t even look at oikawa because he’s your reminder that there are people who can get into class 6 without trying as hard as you did.

now that the tears are falling, your hands fly to your face, embarrassed that you’d dare to cry. it’s a sign of weakness, isn’t it? you believed that tears were better released on stuffed pillows and thick duvets, not in front of people who would, eventually, see you melt down, peeling away layer by layer.

and you can’t stop crying. your breathing is fast and you don’t think you’ll be able to come back for seventh period, so you fold your knees into your chest, as if curling yourself up into a ball meant disappearing from the world, even if it was momentary.

but you find that you can’t disappear even when you’re so tired you feel like you could stop breathing, because there’s a dip in the mattress and you find yourself leaning into oikawa’s side, craving anything more than the feeling of hot tears down your cheeks. his right arm wraps around your side, rubbing up and down the top of your arm. your mind travels back to the end of your first year, where you had first seen oikawa tooru in all his inglorious glory, laying limply against the gym wall, volleyballs scattered left and right. it was a time when you had barged into the gym, asking if you could stay there for a little while since all the teachers had locked up the other classrooms. you remember he looked surprised - offended, almost - but you paid him no attention as he practiced hundreds of rounds and you revised tens of times.

it was also the first night he walked you home, even if your houses weren’t near each other. one night after another, oikawa was the boy you shared big small talk with on sidewalks and asphalt platforms. it was him, almost every day. oikawa became well acquainted with your taste in music, and he’d take it up on himself to hum to each song on your playlist as he walked you home, one of your earbuds in his right ear with the other in your left ear. you, on the other hand, made friends with most of the volleyball club and the cheering squad due to your frequent attendance at his volleyball games. you had even learned how to do an underhand volleyball serve, and you remember oikawa’s stifled laugh as you knocked the ball into the ceiling and onto your head. he was sweet.

and it seemed like you two worked out - really well. one day, your late nights at the gym turned into an early afternoon after class, where he came up to your desk and asked if you wanted to “go together”. you found that it had been a date after he kissed you at your doorstep, and you took his hand when you found out you wanted to kiss him again.

but screw him, right?

yeah, screw him and his group of fangirls. screw him and his soft smile. screw him and his know-it-all-i’m-so-much-better-than-you petty personality. you’ve convinced yourself you hated him because stress and a fear of losing built up in both of you to the point that you two had thrown at each other words as poisonous as mercury. that was the catalyst of the end of it all. and you feel even worse now because you are crying on oikawa’s shoulder two weeks after your “breakup”; two weeks after you told him things made to hurt him.

oikawa stays in silence, running a hand through your hair as you grab onto his school button up for dear life. he’s hardly seen you cry before, but in this moment you feel like oikawa is the only person that you’d let yourself be so weak to. you hate it, but you start to think about oikawa for once.

the brunette’s feet swing back and forth, and soon, yours are too, following the nonexistent rhythm of his legs hanging off the elevated mattress.

you feel your sharp grip on his shirt loosen into softer edges, your arms coming to hug the entirety of his torso instead. you know you’re going to walk around with swollen eyes for the rest of today and maybe even tomorrow, but you couldn’t care less now that the tears have finally ran themselves thin. you breathe steady.

oikawa doesn’t stop the hand in your hair or the swinging of his feet, but he turns more to face you, meeting your glossy gaze. it’s when you look into his deep eyes that you find kindness and care, something you’ve overlooked far too many times.

you don’t want to hear his voice, or see his face, or ever interact with him ever again. but right now you can’t help but tear down your own walls just to end up in his arms because the truth is that you miss him, so, so, so much.

the pads of your fingertips shake around his middle and your cheeks start to rise when oikawa takes his other hand in yours in a slow movement, and, surprisingly, your fingers intertwine with his. it’s a wave of relief oikawa doesn’t know how to describe, feeling like nothing and everything at the same time.

your head presses against the wet patch on his shoulder, and you take a deep breath.

“can i walk home with you?”

oikawa’s hand in your hair freezes for a moment before it travels down to your waist, keeping you close to him.

“rice balls on me?” his voice is low, almost like a whisper.

your eyelids are heavy enough to give up on staying awake, drawing themselves like magnets. but you manage a nod and a positive hum as you unknowingly drift off on his wet shoulder. you think you’re calmer now, your mind going blank, finally, temporarily, as you let aside your pride for today. frankly, you’re still embarrassed and scared and nervous, but there’s always something unmistakeable about oikawa’s care.

it makes you feel like maybe, just maybe, you don’t have to stay up all those nights or score full marks on everything - the same way oikawa felt his aching muscles soothe when you’d drag him out of the gym late at night. it makes you feel content, and oikawa can see it; a slow smile planted on your face as you finally fall asleep.

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wannaliveattheholidayinn · 3 years

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Ok, But Seriously, I Have Thoughts

I have... really mixed feelings about this episode, so I'm gonna talk about those feelings. And if my feelings about zep as a show and this season come out during that... so be it. (Seriously, this got long. I'd apologize, but I'm not sorry). Also spoilers for the new ep below the cut, but y'all should've been able to guess that

- I... Zimon seriously deserves just so much better. We saw them as a couple together for three episodes, and they honestly weren't explored enough. Zimon... and this is a very personal opinion, but they really do strike me as a couple who never fully leave the honeymoon phase... like ever. Like, of course, they'll fight and disagree on a lot of things, but they also can have adult children, and just kind of act like newlyweds even if they've been married for over twenty years. And again, I know that's a very personal opinion, but I mean... we all knew c/arkeman was gonna be endgame, and it just feels like zimon was never given an actual chance.

- However, I do very much appreciate that their breakup was not messy, there's still clearly a ton of respect for the other on both of their sides, and that Simon is okay.

- "We didn't belong together." No, you fucking did.

- I am not going to stop writing Zimon fanfic either. In fact, this might spur me to write more and work harder on writing Zimon fanfic.

- Rose. Fucking. Deserves. Better. I'm not even gonna elaborate on this one. We all know it.

- Despite the fact that I fucking hate c/arkeman and that it was very, very rushed... I'm giving acting and singing props to Jane. I Melt With You is a song that's extremely personal to me. It helped get me through a point in my life where... I was constantly feeling at war with others, myself, and even felt unsafe in my own home (something I still feel today, no matter how irrational I know it is). I just generally feel a strong connection to every version of the song bc of that, whether it's the original or the Bowling for Soup cover (that was in Sky High!), and... Jane just has a way of making me feel safe when she sings. So, I really, really loved her cover.

- Um... yeah, I'm gonna be real, I don't like the idea of Max having powers. I don't know, I just think it kinda changes the whole original concept of the show, and I'm not a big fan of that...

- Simon! Simon working on changing SPRQ Point!!!!

- I do not really like how they handled Simon's racial bias/systemic racism in coding storyline *after* episode six (aka it only really being mentioned in passing, not being further explored, etc.), but,,, credits due where it's due I guess? I like how they handled him going to Danny Michael Davis, and how DMD listened.

- Sidenote, I kinda find it weird we as a fandom don't refer to him as Danny... it's Danny Michael Davis, DMD, or fucking Willy Wonka jokes. Makes sense I guess.

- Um... the writing was just... so lazy. Yeah. It's... really sad, I think that the show would've benefitted from even one less ep. But on the other hand... lazy writing is lazy writing.

- I think it would've been better - honestly - if Zoey's feelings of loss hadn't been connected to Max in a romantic way, but in a platonic/familial way. We didn't see a ton of their friendship, and yeah,, I hate Max, but there are a few moments there where you can see a legitimate friendship that's really sweet. I also think if they had maybe explored Zoey's fear of losing Simon as well as Max and centered the finale more on Zoey telling Simon about her power, it would've just been a lot better.

- But... honestly, after I just aired out all my issues with this episode (and the season too kinda),,, I honestly liked it. I hate that Zimon broke up and I just generally hate cl*arkeman but... this ep had some really great moments. Zoey and Mitch were beautiful to see again. Mctobin, Davidemily, and Mo x Perry were all absolutely my favorite parts of the episode. Hell, I'll even admit I... well I don't wanna say laughed considering I was so close to crying, but I let out a weird, breathy noise resembling a laugh when Zoey just blurted out she and Simon had broken up.

I don't want to say it was a bad episode, because I did honestly, enjoy ~parts~ of it... but... it wasn't even that cl/arkeman happened, I knew it would, but how it did... it just honestly (my g.od i need to stop writing that word) seemed like they were trying to kill off or like... fucking quash *any* hope Zimon shippers may have had,,, and the writing was just so fucking lazy, I just...

I started the show after dance one night because my teacher showed us the Help! number bc he was an extra in it. And I had already been intrigued by the few ads I had seen for it. So, my mom and I watched it, and we loved it. So we kept watching. And it was good! It was really good! Sure it could be cheesy, but... that didn't matter. I latched on...

I don't know if, ZEP is gonna get renewed, and if it is, I don't know if I'll watch it if/when it does. I latch on to shows really fucking hard when I do latch on. It's why I keep rewatching The Good Place and why I'll never forgive Freeform/Disney/Marvel for canceling Cloak and Dagger. The way I latch onto things is probably a bit unhealthy. And the fact of the matter is, despite everything, my overwhelming feelings about ZEP are positive. And I latched on. I'd honestly do it all over again.

I have a lot of feelings about this fandom and this show, both positive and negative. Still, I love it. Unconditionally. Ultimately, I don't care if Zoey ends up with Max or Simon (though, seriously, she and Simon are made for each other). It's a good fucking show, ships shouldn't be everything that matters.

I began lurking in this fandom when I was fifteen. I began posting fanfic for it when I was sixteen. I'm almost seventeen now. I was planning to get Tumblr when I was seventeen. I also knew I wouldn't forgive myself if I hadn't made my presence here known if it didn't get renewed.

I want to thank @simon-haynes because, uh, holy fuck, I adore you. Running a blog for fandom is something I couldn't even fathom, especially when a large portion of the fandom doesn't like your ship. I legitimately can't believe you followed me.

Thank you to @jennakang. You are, honestly, one of the best writers I've ever read from. You were so incredibly supportive of my writing on ao3, despite the fact you didn't know who I was, and that really meant the world to me. Thank you so much for your contributions to the fandom. Also, uh, fun fact, I was the anon who, after you expressed the want to write the quarantined Zimon fic, sent in that ask that was like "please do!" and also "hope I'm not being pushy about this". I don't know if you remember that at all, but your response meant the world to me.

And uh, lastly @myheartissetinmotion. Um, wow. I know we barely know each other, but I can honestly say, you have been my anchor for this whole show. I love both your Tori content on TikTok as well as just zep content you do on there, and how you wrote her into zep on ao3. I personally like to think of you as the pioneer of Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist Tok. You were pretty unbiased when it came to ships on there, and that made me feel safe in a place where there were virtually no zimon shippers. Your content was funny, and I always found myself laughing or screaming "accurate" at it. I know, I'm the nuisance who every few months DMs you about something zep related, but I hope you know, you made me feel both seen and somewhat appreciated in this fandom. I cannot thank you enough, Isabella 💗

I know Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist may not be ending. But this still oddly feels like the end of an era. I'm not leaving the fandom, I plan to keep posting fanfic for it and everything. I just want everyone who may be reading this to know I love this fandom and I would not take any moment here back.

Also, this is me formally asking for a link to a Discord group chat since I know it exists but I'm too scared to actually ask any of you for it directly.

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whatareyousearchingfordean · 3 years

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The One With The Merry Little Christmas

Summary: The chill at this year’s Lawrence City Fire Department’s Christmas party has nothing to do with the snow falling outside and everything to do with the Dean and Y/n.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3.5K+

Warnings: Language, implied smut, angst (with a happy ending, no pun intended)

Author’s Note: Ah, can you smell Christmas in the air already? Cause I can! Anyway, this fic was written for @smol-and-grumpy ‘s SuperFriends Title Challenge, The One With The Friends With Benefits, and @janicho88 100 Followers Supernatural Christmas Celebration with, of course, Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas. These both kind of morphed into the same idea so I decided to combine them. I hope you guys enjoy xoxo and a very Merry Christmas -Alex

Check out Alexandra’s Library for more by yours truly!

Have yourself a merry little Christmas

Let your heart be light

From now on

Our troubles will be out of sight

Across the small town, snow covered the streets of Lawrence, Kansas, the massive, fluffy flakes continuing to fall as the street lights came on that evening. The town was quiet, the blanket of snow muffling the ambient sound in the winter evening. Just south of downtown sat the city’s one modest fire station. The golden brick building was glittering with red and white twinkle lights, the glow lighting up the street for a few feet in either direction. Music could be heard bumping on the sidewalk from inside the building, its inhabitants sure to be enjoying their company Christmas party.

Inside, the common room was filled to the brim with the entirety of the company and their loved ones. The kids were chasing each other around the bases of the fire poles. A few of the older ones knew enough to jump full force on the metal to pull open the chute at the top, entertaining the younger ones each time the plastic split open, their giggles chiming in with the festive holiday music the Captain had found in his playlists earlier that day.

Food and drink littered the expanse of the countertops. Anything one could have been craving was set out for the group to enjoy. Dean was pouring himself a soda since this was his year to be on shift during the party and he had to behave. The fireman had grumbled about it when he stopped by his best friend’s apartment to drop off the ingredients for her taco dip. The taco dip she had only agreed to make for him if he purchased the product. After all, the woman had already made a few dozen sugar cookies for the festivities as her own contribution this year. She politely reminded him then that he could get as pissed as he wanted next year. Not that her words much appeased the Winchester.

The first responder turned to his buddy and coworker, who was filling another bowl with his famous chili, and held up the red plastic cup with a mock look of disgust, “What is the point of Coke if it doesn’t come with any Jack?”

“A suga’ rush?” The Cajun drawled in his signature accent. Dean snorted, bringing the cup to his lips when the object was snatched from his hand before the two could meet.

“Hey--” he spun on his heel, coming to face to face with his best friend. Her eyes were narrowed as she looked over the rim of the cup at him. “Come on, you don’t want that, there’s no rum.”

“Sure,” the woman wet her lower lip before taking a sip of the soda that Dean had poured for himself.

“Satisfied?” He quirked an eyebrow at her, holding out his hand for his drink back.

“For now,” she admonished. “But I’m watching you, Winchester.”

“That’s hurtful, Y/n/n.” Dean placed his hand over his heart, giving his friend the puppy dog look that he had learned from his little brother. A peak of a smile tugged on the corners of her lips as she looked at him before it faltered once again. Finally, she relented and gave the drink back to its rightful owner.

“I’d say more like rightfully cautious,” the other firefighter chimed in on their conversation, earning an elated grin from the woman standing across from him. Y/n clapped her hands together like a child, her tongue peeking between her teeth as she bounced on her toes. Placing his arm over Dean’s shoulder, Benny added, “Right, Dean-o?”

“You two are incorrigible,” Dean lamented, shrugging his friend’s arm away from him. The pair laughed at Dean’s irritation as Y/n scooted her way in between Dean and the drink table.

Dean internally cringed as Benny chose then to walk away, leaving the two friends alone for the first time that evening. The thing was, the air between the two friends was actually colder than the snow that blanketed the town outside the fire station. He knew that Y/n was putting on a show for everyone in the station since she couldn’t get out of going to the party last minute, which he also knows she would have preferred. The woman was as much a part of their work-family as she was her own family. That was what happened when best friends were joined at the hip for over fifteen years. There was no way she was getting out of going without raising suspicion, and Y/n was too private of a person to deal with answering questions that her absence would have surely raised.

As much as people like to think they know the real woman, she only has ever fully opened up to two people in her life, her mother and Dean. No one else has ever stuck around long enough to try and break down that wall that she had put up around herself. If Dean wasn’t just as stubborn as her he might have stopped trying a long time ago, but he was determined to get to know the real woman no matter how hard she seemed to try to stop him.

In the grand scheme of things, he supposes that’s is why it was so easy for them to fall into their friends with benefits relationship. One post-breakup, alcohol-fueled night in bed together two years ago had begun the whole thing. It didn’t take them long after they woke the next morning to realize the cliche arrangement could be just what both of them needed. Even still, Dean could count on his hands how many times in total they had spent in the other’s bed.

The most recent of which just happened to be last night. Dean had stopped by with dinner for his friend and the ingredients for the dip he had conned her into making. A few glasses of wine later, as it usually did go, and the two of them enjoyed their time together. But it wasn’t the sex that was the problem, it was the conversation after.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas

Make the yuletide gay

From now on

Our troubles will be miles away

Dean ran a hand through his sweaty hair as Y/n climbed from the bed in search of her strewn articles of clothing. She picked up the various garments, throwing them in her hamper as she passed by it and into her ensuite bathroom.

“Why are you so quiet?” Dean’s voice carried across the room and over the sound of the shower starting. He pulled himself out of the bed and slipped on his boxer briefs as he followed after her.

The woman bit her tongue as she tested the temperature of the water. It was only a matter of time before Dean caught on to her charade. Some days she hates how well he knows her. It’s not that she wants to keep secrets from her best friend but it can be downright creepy when he basically reads her mind. “I’ve been thinking.”

“About?” he questioned, stepping into the bathroom as she climbed into the shower.

“How to tell you something,”

“Alright, you’re kind of scaring me, Y/n/n,”

Allowing the hot water to cascade down her face and body, Y/n took a deep breath before choosing to answer him, “It’s Sean.”

“As in douchebag Sean?”

“Dean, do you have to call him that?” she sighed, having already expected this reaction from him.

“Yes, because he is one. You know what, douchebag is the nicest thing I could be calling him right now,” Dean countered, leaning against the bathroom vanity, his arms crossing over his freckled chest at the mention of that prick’s name.

“He wants to get coffee,” her voice was low, knowing her admission was about to rile up the man on the other side of the curtain. She wasn’t even sure he had heard at first, that was until he whipped the curtain open.

“What?!”

“Jesus!” Instinctively, her hands flew to protect her modesty as her heart tried to escape from her chest. “Dean, what the hell?”

“I could say the same thing to you! Do you not remember what that jackhole put you through over the last year, because I do. He doesn’t deserve a second of your time.”

“You think I don’t know that? It’s just coffee, he didn’t ask me to move in with him?” Y/n spit back, her stance relaxing along with her heart.

“But you and I both know that all it takes is one look at those blue eyes and you’ll be putty in his hands. You can’t go.” The way the last three words came out of his mouth, the definitive tone behind, it them was enough to get her blood boiling underneath her skin.

“Oh, I can’t? Is that an order, Lieutenant?” The title rolled off her tongue, her eyes hardening as she stared at Dean. “Last time I checked you don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“You know that’s not what this is. Y/n/n, I only want what’s best for you. I don’t want to see him screw up your life again. I was there to pick up the pieces last time and I don’t want to do it again.”

“Well I can guarantee you won’t ever have to do it again,” her voice was low, her words steady even though her eyes were filled with unshed tears.

“You know that’s --”

“Get out!” she commanded suddenly, stopping him before he could say anything else. Her eyes scrunched closed, willing herself to not look at her closest friend, the one person she was supposed to be able to count on as he let her down.

“Y/n,”

“I said get out!”

Here we are as in olden days

Happy golden days of yore

Faithful friends who are dear to us

Gather near to us, once more

That was the last time the two of them said anything to each other until she walked into the fire station a little over two hours ago. He had to give it to her, she was putting on a good show, even messing around with him like usual. But he could see the truth in her eyes when she looked at him. Y/n was pissed, but most of all, she was hurt.

Dean turned around, leaning against the counter to face her. The woman didn’t acknowledge his presence, instead choose to continue with preparing herself a drink, one with a bit more whiskey than needed, but he wasn’t going to comment on that. “I’m glad you are here,” he tried instead.

“Well, I haven’t seen Sam and Jessica and the kids in a while, I wasn’t going to miss out on that because you are an ass,” she noted, still choosing to not look at him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“No, you never do, do you?” She swallowed thickly, turning on Dean, the flicker of a flame telling the experienced first responder it was best not to stoke the fire. The two of them stared at each other for what felt like minutes to them, when in reality, it was merely a few seconds, the bubble they were in being popped by Dean’s niece running and crashing herself into his legs.

“Uncle Dean!” She cheered, reaching up with her short arms as he bent down to pick her up. He situated the little girl on his hip as she squealed in delight. “Can I have another cookie?” Her tone dropped, the small child looking up at her only uncle from underneath her insanely long lashes.

“How many is that now?” He asked her, the glint of a smirk on his face.

“Uh… two,” she held up two fingers, her argument completely unconvincing.

“Uhhuh, I bet,” Dean grumbled, but he knew in his heart he couldn’t say no to that face. “Okay, one more cookie, but you can’t tell on me to you Daddy. He thinks sugar is for suckers.”

“Promise.” The little girl held up her pinky to her uncle, one of the first things he ever taught the kid because he knew he was a sucker from day one and he was not trying to get into trouble with his little brother over it. Even if it never worked to his advantage.

Dean held up his pinky and wrapped it around hers. He shrugged to Y/n before taking his niece over to the sweets table. In reality, Dean knew the conversation needed to be over, it wasn’t the time or place, but if there was one thing he hated more than anything it was fighting with Y/n. It felt like a piece of him was missing when he couldn’t talk to her or see her, and if he was being honest with himself that kind of scared him. When he became so codependent on her he couldn’t be sure. It just felt like she had always been there, and always should be, right by his side.

Clara tried to steal a second cookie as Dean helped her pick out the first, but he knew he would be in it if he let her get away with that one, so he made sure it got put back. When he turned around to set the five-year-old down, he noticed Y/n was gone. He scanned the whole room and couldn’t find her anywhere in the mix of people.

As suspected, the little girl rushed right to her Daddy, who scowled at his brother. Dean offered a shrug and a smirk as he made his way over to Sam. “Don’t you start with me too.”

“Oh, it’s not me you have to answer to, it’s Jess because she’s the one that has to put her down tonight.”

“Eh, she’ll forgive me, I’m her favorite brother-in-law,” Dean waved off his brother.

“You’re her only brother-in-law.”

“Whatever. Did you see where Y/n went?”

Sam crossed his arms, his brows rising on his forehead, ��Looked like she was headed outside.” Dean pursed his lips, two small dimples forming at the corners. “Did you two fight?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“No, but you are all brooding and pensive right now,” Sam moved his hand in a flourish in front of Dean as he spoke.

“Really?”

“Yeah, what’s going on with you two?” The taller brother pushed for Dean to talk, and he pondered his pros and cons of answering.

“Sean wants to have coffee with her?” Dean said, nonchalant.

“And?”

“And the guy is a dick, she deserves better.”

“Better? Like you?” Sam tried to hide the amusement from his features as Dean whipped his head from where he was staring at the door to his little brother.

“What?” Dean’s voice rose an octave at his brother’s question.

“Oh come on, I know you guys have been sleeping together for a while now.”

“Sam, it’s not what you think,” Dean sighed before running his tongue over his bottom lip. “It’s only happened a handful of times.”

“And?” Sam shook his head, trying to convey his meaning to his brother. “Listen, you guys have known each other for longer than I’ve known Jessica. You spend all your free time together. You are basically a couple which I would say without the sex but we all know you are doing that too, so basically a couple. Why can’t you just man up and tell her how you feel?”

“Cause I don’t know how I feel? It’s never felt like a relationship with her. It’s just always been easy.”

“That’s how it should be, Dean. The two of you are perfect for each other. I think you owe it yourselves to at least try.” Sam urged.

“And what if it all blows up?”

“What if it all works out?” Sam countered. “Every relationship is either going to end in forever or end in a breakup, but that doesn’t mean that you just don’t try. Take the leap, Dean.”

“I hate you, you know that,” Dean grimaced, knowing that his brother was right. While he had never thought of Y/n like that before they slept together the first time, he couldn’t ignore the chemistry they had together. She was his other half, he already admits to that, and he would be lying if he said it wasn’t amazing sex. Sam was right, how would admitting anything be different than how they already lived their lives together?

“Yeah, well, I’ll say I told you so at your wedding,” Sam clapped his older brother’s shoulder before running off after his toddler. Dean glared after his brother, he hated when he was right, mostly because Sam loved to say ‘I told you so’.

Through the years

We all will be together

If the fates allow

Hang a shining star

Upon the highest bough

The firefighter stalked off towards his locker to grab his jacket before following out the doors that lead to the side of the firehouse. If Y/n went out, that’s where she would be, sulking in the shadows. Cold air swirled in to replace the heat from inside as he opened the door, the rush of it sending a chill through his body. He zipped up the coat as he went down the few stairs, finding her sitting there on the stoop.

“Dean, I don’t want to talk about it,” She sighed when she looked up to see it was him that had followed her.

“Then just listen?” He quirked one brow at her, waiting for her invitation before taking a seat next to her. “I know that you are hurting and I wanted to start by saying I’m sorry. It was never my intent to hurt you.”

“I know that.”

“I just… I can’t stand seeing you so down. Sean hurt you badly and I didn’t want you to allow him to do it again. You deserve so much more than that.” Dean pulled his arms in closer to his body as the chill of the night set into his bones and the snow continued to fall around them.

“It was just coffee Dean, not a marriage proposal.”

“Yeah, and I hate that even more,” Y/n looked up then, confusion written all over her features. “Y/n you know that you are the most important thing in my life, next to my brother. Hell, most times you outrank him. When we fight, or you go out of town, it’s like there is a piece of myself missing, I have this hole in my chest that only you can fill. I guess I never really understood what that meant in the grand scheme of things.”

“Dean,”

“You know I love you right?” He cut her off.

“Of course I do. I love you too,” The word rolled off the tip of her tongue like honey. Like it was the most simple thing in the world. Because she did love him, and she had for as long as she’d known the eldest Winchester.

“But Y/n/n, I think I’m in love with you,” Dean held her gaze, his amber green eyes searching hers for the words she had yet to utter. The girl across from him could feel her chest filling with emotion, the confession by her favorite firefighter igniting something long dormant inside her.

“You do?” Tears were threatening to overflow her eyelids, the feeling inside her needing to escape somewhere. She wasn’t in control anymore, her voice cracking with her words.

“I do,” he nodded, affirming his words to himself as well as her. “And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I just thought that maybe we could give us a chance.”

“Us?” Dean nodded, at a loss for what she was thinking for the first time in a long time. “I like the sound of that, us.” Y/n repeated the words with a snort, a coy smile upturning one side of her mouth. Dean’s breath hung in the air as he waited for her to continue.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes, Winchester.” The woman shook her head as he sighed, his body visibly relaxing next to her. Dean took his hand out of his jacket pocket, cupping her cold cheek in its warmth. A bright smile lit up her face as he ran his thumb over her reddened nose and down over her bottom lip. “Just kiss me already.”

“Is that an order?” He threw her words back at her, earning a fist to the chest. Her nose scrunched up as she playfully scowled at him. Dean felt her fingers wrap around the lapels of his jacket before she was pulling him to her, their lips meeting in the middle. Both of them were hesitant, this being their first kiss that wasn’t alcohol-fueled or rushed. Dean opened his mouth to her just as the alarm inside the firehouse sounded sending the two of them apart as if they had been electrocuted.

“I’ve gotta go,” Dean silently cursed the universe’s timing.

“Go save lives,” she patted down his jacket against his chest as her fingers unraveled themselves from the material. Dean pecked her chilled nose before getting up and running to the door, pausing as he pulled it open to turn back to her.

“Wait for me?”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

And have yourself a merry little Christmas now

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missmonsters2 · 4 years

Text

Courting Your Plus One

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader/OFC

Prompt: Can you pretend to be my partner for my friend’s wedding? I told them I’d have a plus one.

Note: Thank you for sending in bby 💘 We are here for a good time. @ludwigvonbaethoven

Warnings: Y’all know you love this trope.

Genre: Fluff & humor

Count: 5253

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Sometimes you imagine life (your life, specifically) being one big giant clusterfuck of a disaster.

Because you're not sure how else to explain how you got invited to your friend and your ex's wedding.

Because, yes, they're fucking marrying each other.

It honestly felt like you were being punched in the gut.

You would say your friendship with your friend is very complicated. It's based more on competition and envy than anything.

And not to brag, but you've pretty much have outdone for your friend in every aspect of life effortlessly.

Except you lost the girl.

Or more accurately, she left you.

Because you made it very clear to both of them that the people you date are not a prize to be won, and you don't chase people.

That being said, maybe if you went to therapy while in your childhood, you would grow up to be a well-adjusted adult who didn't believe that in a breakup, there's always a winner and a loser.

And by God, you refuse to be the loser in this breakup.

"Yes, I'm really bringing a plus one," you tell your friend. After skillfully avoiding any questions that would require you to disclose any details of this 'plus one,' you needed to actually find a plus one.

But this was more than just a plus one.

You needed to find someone who was hotter and better than your ex in every way.

"I'm not sure whether I should be flattered or insulted."

"Neither, Nat. Please just do me this favor, so I'm not humiliated twice by the two of them," you beg.

"Hasn't it been 4 months now? I doubt they will antagonize you since they've seemed to move on and all," Natasha looks at you with a brow raised. Natasha isn't a stranger to these two, but she's not really sure she's up to go along with this insane idea.

And despite the biting words, you show Natasha a text you received just hours after opening the wedding invitation.

Hey, with the history and all, we totally understand if you don't want to come to celebrate our wedding.

"Wow," Natasha whistles.

"Yes," you agree, putting your phone away.

"They really said that," Natasha comments while nodding her head and pursing her lips.

"They did, so please pretend to my girlfriend and attend this wedding with me. I don't want to rub it in their face, but I refuse to be alone."

"I just want to point out you actually have nothing to rub in their face."

"Nat."

She sighs.

"Fine," she grumbles, "I'll go, mostly for the free meal and drinks I'm going to get out of this, but you owe me big time for this."

You sigh in relief, the stress partially leaving you. You're thankful to have a friend like Natasha. You were friends throughout university and even were roommates for a while. Granted, you didn't get to see each other often now with the fact she travels a lot for work, but it seems like she's finally settling in the city for a while.

"So, what day is it?" Natasha asks while sipping her coffee, swinging her legs.

"So...it's out of town, and it's two days and one night," you smile sheepishly.

"For fuck sakes."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The wedding comes faster than you're ready for, and you've got the jitters as you adjust your one-piece jumpsuit.

Natasha picks you up, looking glorious in her dress, and for a second, your nerves calm as you take a deep breath.

"You look beautiful," you compliment to Natasha who merely smirks.

"Nervous?" Natasha asks as she pulls out of your driveway and heads to the airport with no rush.

"I don't know if I would call it nervous as more of I really hope there are no incidents," you huff,

"Hopefully, this will all go smoothly, and we just eat and drink ourselves into oblivion."

"What about dancing?" Natasha asks.

"For the sake of your feet, we

better not," you half-joke.

Natasha lets out a burst of laughter, and you lick your lips at the sound.

"So? What's the plan?" Natasha looks over to you briefly before turning her eyes back on the road.

"Plan?" You hum.

Natasha looks back with a raise of her brow at you.

"What? You just want to wing it when people inevitably ask us how we met and started dating?"

"Honestly, this is already stressful enough, I would prefer to not lie more than we have to. I've seen enough movies to know that's how you get fucked later. Everyone knows we've been friends forever. Let's just say we developed feelings, and then I asked you out."

"What if I want to be the one who asked you out?" Natasha frowns.

"Then you can be the one who asked me out...?"

"No, it's okay. I would rather you ask me out."

"Natasha, I'll fucking strangle you," you huff.

"Not my kink," Natasha then looks at you and smirks, "...Well."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You're trying to not seem twitchy when your plane arrives in Hawaii, and you head straight to the venue.

Other guests have started to pour in, but you don't see the couple of the hour.

Natasha slides her hand into yours easily, and you're having a fleeting thought about how your hands fit together well. Her hand is soft, a little cold, but you don't mind because your hands are too warm.

"Relax," she whispers, and you nod.

You're thankful that they decided to have the ceremony and the reception right after, both at the same venue. You can't imagine trying to stretch this entire day out.

You grab champagne glasses and pass one to Natasha, who hums in thanks.

A couple people come up to say hi to you and fawn over how beautiful Natasha is and how you met. It's going well so far. Thankfully, no one has actually asked about how you're feeling about this entire wedding, or how brave (or stupid) you are to come.

At least to your face.

You already know people are whispering behind your back.

You take your seat with Natasha, and the second you hear the songs playing, you have to resist the urge to roll your eyes so fucking far back into your head because it's literally the same playlist you shared with your ex when you were dating her.

This has to be some new level of pettiness, right?

Natasha seems to recognize the songs right away. After all, she had been the one to listen to it first to give her opinion before you sent it to your ex. She looks over at you and places her hand on top.

The touch grabs you out of your thoughts as you turn to look at her for a moment. You're reminded to take a deep breath as you turn your hand over to lace your fingers together.

You wish you were a little drunker when the bride comes out, and they say their vows, but your motto is that it could always be worse.

You hear Natasha clear her throat, and you look at her curiously.

She's grinning at you mischievously, and then your phone buzzes.

Nat: Let's play a game. Every time she looks at you, you owe me a dance. Every time he looks at you, I'll buy you coffee when we're back.

You: Why? Because you don't want to be able to walk anymore?

Nat rolls her eyes at you, unable to hide the small smile on her lips.

Nat: Surely you can't be worse than when we were in university.

You: Debatable, but I'll play along. It's your toes.

Putting your phone away, Natasha smirks at you as you turn your head up to face the front.

It's easier to drown out the officiant and the couple's vows when you're trying to focus and keep count of how many times the couple looks at you.

By the time they kiss, Natasha's got you beat by 7 looks.

And in total, you owe her 62 dances.

"Alright, if we just continue to dance for about 3 hours straight, I'll have paid my debt," you say, causing Natasha to laugh.

It's probably improbable you'll be able to give Natasha 62 dances, even if it's over the course of two days, but you're just happy you got through the ceremony.

You move into the resort, snacking on hors-d'œuvre and wine while you chat with Natasha.

"I have to give it to them, the food is good. And, it's an open bar, nothing can beat that," Natasha says as she's already on her third glass of wine.

"Your standards for a wedding is incredibly low," you shake your head at her, even if you do agree the food is not bad.

"Are you offering to show me better? What? Do you need a fake wife now?" Natasha teases you.

"Oh, would you be a dear and marry me then?" You blink innocently at her before grabbing her hand, "C'mon, I think the officiant might still be here."

You tug her hand a little, but Natasha tugs back to keep you in place.

"Alright, funny face, that's enough. If you think you can marry me after three glasses of wine...you are absolutely right, let's go," Natasha tugs you this time, and you let out a burst of laughter before tugging her hand back.

And then you see from the corner of your eye the newlyweds coming up to you, and you wait with bated breath.

"Wow, it's so good to see you, you look good," the bride comes in to swoop you into a hug, and you're almost taken aback at the familiar smell of honey and peaches.

"Hey, Vanessa," you breathe out, forcing a smile, "Congratulations, you look beautiful."

Vanessa laughs, clinging onto you a little too long when the groom sweeps him.

"Derek," you greet, "congratulations."

You don't say anything more because the second you look at them together, you're reminded that he went after her while you were still dating and that she did leave you for him.

He smiles at you, a little smug, as he shakes your hand and pulls you in to slap you on your back for a greeting.

"Thanks!" He enthusiastically says, "So, you brought Natasha. Why didn't you just say so over the phone?"

Derek goes into hug Natasha, who gives him a light smile and a weak hug in return.

"Thought it'd be a nice surprise," you reply, wrapping your arm around Natasha's waist as she settles into your side.

"Natasha, huh," Vanessa eyes the redhead in your arm. "How long?"

Okay, so maybe Natasha was a sore spot when you were dating Vanessa. She always complained about how you spent too much time with Natasha, even when she wasn't living in the city.

You're too lost in that Natasha has to be the one to answer.

"Well, it's pretty new, actually. As you know, we spend a lot of time together, and I don't know. The timing seemed just right that she confessed to me, it was really romantic," Natasha says, turning to look at you with a soft smile you're not sure you've ever seen on her.

You also noticed the biting mark about how you spend a lot of time together because Vanessa smiles contritely at the comment.

"That's great," Vanessa says offhandedly while she grabs her husband's hand. "Well, we gotta keep making rounds, but we'll catch up with you later."

With a little wave, the couple flitters off, and you feel like you can let out a sigh of relief.

"I always forget how wonderful of an actress you are," you turn to Natasha, your hand still on her waist as you smile thankfully at her.

"Yeah, imagine all the practice I got scaring off your one night stands in university," Natasha retorts back at you, and you look to the side, pretending you didn't hear that as Natasha laughs and slaps you playfully.

"C'mon, let's find the other food and refill your glass," You smile as you pull her along.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You leave your fake girlfriend for not even two minutes to find her the stupid hors-d'œuvre that had bacon wrapped around something.

You come back to find some dude hovering over your girlfriend like he's a fucking vulture.

It reminds you of back in university when you'd be studying in the library with Natasha, just enjoying the quiet time together with the occasional banter.

And then some stupid jock, or someone from the student council, or whoever Natasha was dating at the time would come and interrupt.

You stalk up to the two, catching the end sentence about how the guy has a yacht he would love to take Natasha on.

"Hey," you interrupt, a fake smile on your face, "Sorry it took so long, I basically had to fight another woman for these, so you should probably eat them all now before she finds us."

Natasha laughs, giving you a smile as she beings to eat the appetizers.

"Who's this?" You ask, looking over at the guy.

Natasha looks over at the gentleman, blinking as she had definitely forgotten his name.

"Lentle?" She said, her tone rising at the end at the apparent guess.

"Leonard," he introduces himself with an unoffended smile.

"Well, Lentle, thanks for keeping my girlfriend company," you smile with a nod, and the guy gets the clear sign and books it out of there.

You turn to Natasha.

"I leave you for not even two minutes, and you've got yacht offers," you tease her.

"I know, so lame, right?" Natasha licks her lips. "Yacht offers were only cool in university."

"And what? You've traded in yacht offers for dances that will end in your toes being broken? I think you've got it backwards, sweetheart."

Natasha laughs as she finishes the last bacon appetizer.

"Oh, you don't know how priceless your dancing is."

"Just for that, I'm taking three dances off my debt," you stick your tongue out at her while Natasha rolls her eyes playfully.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

This was only asking for trouble.

Natasha knew that.

She's not entirely unused to it. Living in a dorm with you while in university gave her plenty of opportunities where she had to pretend to be your scandalized girlfriend to scare off your one night stands.

But you were never there when those girls came knocking at the door.

She never had to hold your hand, gaze lovingly at you, potentially have to kiss you.

Natasha had been very careful throughout the entire time she had known you. She never made sure to cross any lines that she couldn't come back from.

Especially when you've had too many drinks and had a bad habit of kissing whoever might be too close to you back in the day.

It was necessary for Natasha to survive.

Because she was in love with you.

And she still is.

But you had never indicated to her that you were interested in her in any other way than a friend. And so, she settled into a good place where she could be just your friend.

But this was threatening all of that. Natasha knew she should've said no when you came to her with this odd request, but you had looked so desperate and beat up that Natasha couldn't say no.

When you were dating Vanessa, that was probably the worst time in Natasha's life. You were so obviously enamored with Vanessa, even if you did not admit it.

Natasha had to deal with all the same intricacies of you dating her. Like helping you with the first date, listen to the playlist you made her and had to listen to you talk about Vanessa.

Nevermind when Vanessa left you for Derek.

That might've tested Natasha's limit to the edge.

Now, she was standing with you at the bar, grabbing drinks as you held her hand, swinging it back and forth with a smile.

The dinner reception would be soon as the catering team started setting the tables and bringing food out.

"Does swinging our hands back and forth count as a dance?" You ask, and Natasha rolls her eyes over to you.

"Don't think you can escape a single dance," Natasha tells you, and you sigh dramatically.

Natasha can see Vanessa occasionally looking your way, and Natasha has to tell herself that being in your personal bubble, and brushing your hair behind your ear is justified now.

She can do those things.

Even if it's fake.

The reception is more boring than Natasha would like. Just people sharing toasts about how wonderful Derek is, and how in love they are. Natasha puts a lot of effort into distracting you.

And when the dinner comes to an end, the dancing begins.

The couple shares their first dance together, and also dance with their parents.

The sun is setting, and when the floor opens up, Natasha is immediately dragging you onto the dance floor.

Your hand easily settles on the dip of her back as you pull her close, your other hand delicately encasing hers as you gaze in Natasha's eyes.

"This is a pretty good start," Natasha quirks her lips, "I remember the first time I tried to teach you how to dance, you look down the entire time at our feet."

"Yes, you're welcome for not crippling your toes at that time," You smile back.

The slow music starts, and you begin to lead Natasha into a simple slow foxtrot.

"Hey, no broken toes," Natasha teases you, and you roll your eyes.

"Don't jinx it now," You try not to look down out of habit. Sure, over the years, you've gotten better at dancing, but it still wasn't your favorite activity. You still turn it down if given a chance.

After an hour into dancing, taking the occasional break in between, you need a break.

"Nat," You huff, "I don't think I'll be able to complete 62 dances with you. Can we convert dances into something else? How about drinks? I can get you drinks."

Natasha starts chuckling, "We'll see. I feel like you still have some dance left in you. C'mon, this is such a classic dance song."

Guests around you are wasted as they sway around on the dance floor. Derek has his tie around his head as he's goofing around with his buddies.

The dance is different this time. Natasha pulls you close, flush against her, and you're not sure if it's all the drinks you've had, but it feels different.

Her hands settle around your neck, her leg slightly in between your own.

And then she grinds to the beat of the music.

The feeling makes your breath hitch initially, and you see Natasha smirk subtly. Your hands automatically fly to her hips as you match her rhythm.

Natasha's face is close. Close enough that you can feel her breath on your lips.

You swallow.

Somewhere in your mind, you're trying to remind yourself that Natasha is a friend.

She's always been.

But tonight, you feel like she might cross a line that you didn't know existed between you two.

As quick as a fleeting thought to Kiss Natasha comes, she spins in your arms, back pressed against your front as she continues to sway and grind.

Your hand slide over her stomach, and you're not sure what's happening.

The song slowly comes to an end, going into a slow dance song, and you have a fleeting thought the DJ sucks.

Natasha turns back around, looking at you, and she's leaning in, and your heart is thudding, and you think the air is leaving your lungs, and--

"Hey."

The voice interrupts the two of you, and it's like whatever magic was happening, the spell broke.

You look over to see Vanessa standing between you too with a hand on your shoulder.

"Mind if I steal you for a dance?"

"She's kind of busy dancing with me right now," Natasha smiles, but you've seen that type of cold smile before.

"Well," Vanessa's eyes turn to Natasha, "I'm the bride, and it's my day, I think you can survive a dance without her."

Natasha looks like she wants to say something else, but you put your hand on her arm and give her a smile to show her it's okay.

Natasha wants to roll her fucking eyes at how smug Vanessa looks, but walks off to the bar.

She really needs a drink.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You pull Vanessa into an appropriate amount of distance between the two of you as you lead her into a dance.

"You're quite open to dancing tonight," Vanessa comments, knowing in the past you seldom danced with her.

You shrug, "I've already had about 18 dances with Natasha. Plus, it is your wedding day."

"I'm surprised you actually came," Vanessa twirls in your arm, coming back just an inch closer than before.

"Why wouldn't I?" You challenge.

The dance is cut short with Vanessa stilling, sighing as she pulls you out of the venue and down to the beach, standing in the warm sand.

"Why do you always do that?" Vanessa says, crossing her arms.

"Do what?" You reply.

"You know exactly why I'm surprised you came. Did I really mean nothing to you? Why would you even come here? And especially with Natasha," Vanessa is frowning, and her brows furrow the exact way you remember them when she's upset.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself.

"I'm not doing this with you, Vanessa," you tell her slowly, "it's your wedding day."

You turn to leave, but Vanessa pulls you back, colliding her lips against yours.

The feel of her lips is entirely too familiar.

Too raw.

You put your hands on her shoulder, pushing her back.

"What the hell, Ness!" You yell at her as your brows burrow in anger.

"You didn't come back for me!" Vanessa yells back at you. You look around, glad that you're far from the venue, so no one can hear you.

You turn your head back to your ex.

"You left me, remember?" You hiss quietly.

"You weren't paying attention to me," Vanessa quiets herself as well, grabbing on your dress jacket.

"I thought that if I went to Derek, you were going to fight for me, but you didn't," She admits.

You sigh, "Vanessa, I told you right from the beginning that I don't chase people. If you felt that I wasn't giving you enough attention, you should've just told me. You leaving me for Derek is not going to make me fight for you. Of all the things I will compete with Derek for, women are not one of them."

"But you do chase people," Vanessa retorts bitterly, "you're always chasing Natasha."

Your brows scrunch together.

"What?"

Vanessa rolls her eyes as if she thinks you're just playing dumb.

"Every time Natasha needed something, you dropped everything to go help her. Do you even remember my birthday? You left midway because Natasha called and said she was stuck on the highway."

"You said you were okay with it. If you weren't, you should've said so!" You argue with her.

"I shouldn't have to tell you that I obviously wouldn't be okay with that! For christ's sake, you hate dancing and you just danced 18 times with Natasha!"

You pinch the bridge of your nose, a minor headache from having this conversation.

"Regardless," you finally say, "whatever has happened, it's in the past now. You're married now. You said, 'I do,' to him. What do you want from me now?"

Vanessa takes a step forward, grabbing onto the edge of your sleeves again.

"I--I just want to know that I matter to you, that you still love me," Vanessa says softly, and she's leaning up on her tippy toes, getting closer to your face.

You're frozen.

Not sure why the hell this is happening to you.

But before you can push her away again, Vanessa is pushed back by someone else.

Natasha is standing there, furious as her eyes are set ablaze.

"I'll appreciate it if you keep your hands and lips off my girlfriend," Natasha grits out.

Vanessa rolls her eyes at Natasha, before looking at you, "I know you're not really dating her. If you wanted to make me jealous by bringing Natasha, then fine. I'm jealous, but you don't need to keep up the charade."

"Er--I'm not--We really are--why would you think that?" You start to stutter before asking.

"Natasha may have always been in love with you, but if you liked Natasha, you would've left me for her long ago. You're telling me throughout all the years of your friendship, you never thought about dating her earlier? I don't buy it," Vanessa squints.

"What does it matter to you? You're married," Natasha deadpans.

"And I can get a divorce if I want to," Vanessa fires back.

Something seems to stem inside Natasha. A hot, burning, possessive feeling boils in her because she has a taste of having you hers, even if it's pretending.

And something just possesses Natasha as she pulls you close, wrapping her arm around your neck as she meets your lips with fervor.

The taste of Natasha hits you different.

She tastes like vodka and pineapples, and you find yourself quickly returning her kiss. Your hands grab her waist, pulling flush against you, and your mind wanders to her grinding on you earlier.

Has Natasha always felt this soft? Were her lips suppose to slide against yours so perfectly?

And then everything Vanessa said just hits you. You don’t chase people, but you’ll chase after Natasha.

You always have.

You hate dancing, but you’ve never turned down a dance with Natasha.

You’re jealous, you’ve been jealous. It takes a lot to just barely temper the desire to possess.

Natasha was the first person you thought of for everything.

God, have you been an idiot?

You distantly hear a huff in the background and footsteps stomping off.

You aren't sure how long you're kissing until Natasha pulls back.

She stares at you, and something just snaps.

"I can't do this," Natasha says, turning around and walking further onto the beach.

Natasha briskly walks along the shore, cursing herself. The kiss was amazing.

Everything and more than Natasha dreamed it would be.

But deep down, she knew that you didn't feel that way about her.

And now she had this blessing and curse to remember this kiss for the rest of her life.

"Hey!" A sudden arm grabs onto Natasha's wrist, and she turns around to see you panting as you chased after her.

"You know," you pant, "I'm beginning to think Vanessa was right."

Natasha immediately shirks at you as you stand up straight, sliding your hand down until you grasp her fingers.

"I don't chase people, but I chase always after you," you pull Natasha closer, and she looks alarmed.

"What are you say--"

"Is it true? Have you always been in love with me?" You cut her off.

Natasha is silent, face impassive as she always does when she feels vulnerable.

But you always knew the answer when she did that.

"Why didn't you say anything?" You ask softly only for Natasha to scoff.

"Why would I? We're great friends, I'm aware of that. You've never indicated to me that you felt anything more for me," Natasha looks out onto the ocean.

You're not really what to say at first because it's true. Throughout your years of friendship, it never really crossed your mind that Natasha could be more to you.

But not for the reason she thinks.

"You know," you start, drawing her attention back to you, "When I first met you, you were like, the most gorgeous girl I've ever seen in my life, the statement still standing true to today."

Natasha feels her cheeks warm at the soft way you're saying it.

"Then I got to you know, and you were funny, charming, very sarcastic, ambitious, and god, all these amazing things," you sigh, unable to really convey how Natasha is.

"You dated all these guys--and girls--in university. You dated the student president, the student from abroad who literally sounded like James Bond, and even the girl who was in theatre major who is now like a famous broadway actress now or something," you recall all of Natasha's suitors in university.

You laugh, "And don't even get me started on the people after university. I still get Facebook messages from that CEO who tried to give you his company."

Natasha is listening to ramble, but honestly, she doesn't remember any of these people.

Because in university, she was busy taking the scenic route to her class so she could bump into you more. Natasha was occupied with taking non-related classes for her general studies requirements with you. And she was really too busy watching go from fling to fling, wishing that for once, you would just look at her.

"What does that have anything to do with you?" Natasha asks.

"Nothing," you reply, shrugging your shoulders, "Which is exactly the point. While I was busy with one night stands, you were long term dating other people. How can you expect me to even think that you might've been interested in me? How could I let myself want to be more to you?"

And Natasha was extremely aware of it. There were so many moments, too many to even count, where Natasha would be internally screaming for you to look at her, see the truth that she was in love with you, all while refusing to make it known that she was even an option for you.

But Natasha doesn't know where to go from here.

She's still in the same place she started with you.

Natasha feels you tugging on her hand, pulling her closer while you cup her jaw.

"So, I'm going to ask you again. Have you always been in love with me?" You hover over her face, breath on her lips.

"You know what? Nevermind, I'll find the answer myself," You say before you swoop in capture Natasha's lips.

The second kiss is entirely different from the first, and Natasha is completely helpless for the first time with you. Your lips are velvety soft, delicate like a feather.

And it's hard to Natasha to process the fact that you're kissing her, she's convinced that your lips have changed her very existence and she'll never be the same.

And when you pull back, you rest your forehead against Natasha's.

"Is it okay for me to say that I've been really blind and that we've got it all backward, but the timing is actually right, and I'd like to take my fake girlfriend on a date tomorrow morning so she can become my real girlfriend?"

And Natasha just chokes on a laugh because she's pretty sure she stepped on a rock, and it hurts, but it's the only thing that tells her she's not dreaming as you pull her into a hug.

“You’re such an idiot,” Natasha mumbles.

"Just one thing," you say, playing against the back of Natasha's neck.

"What?" Natasha pauses.

"Can we convert dances to kisses?"

And Natasha laughs, wrapping her arms around you as her head rests against your shoulder.

"I'm open to the idea," she smiles. "So, what about the wedding brunch tomorrow?"

"Oh, fuck the brunch."

#mm: my fics #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x ofc #natasha romanov x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanov imagine #black widow x reader #black widow imagine #avengers reader insert #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #avengers au #marvel reader insert #Modern Avengers AU

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peeterparkr · 4 years

Text

perfidy;tom holland|9

chapter 9: the polaroid

enemies to lovers au/enemies with benefits

chapter summary: tim, tom and the broken ankle

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: swearing, alcohol mention, angst, smut (skip the * if you don’t want to read it), car sex, marriage mention

word count: 7.7k

here’s a playlist

social media before you read (IMPORTANT FOR THE CHAPTER) : tweets, Instagram and a text

previous chapter next chapter series masterlist

wanna be tagged?

Hi, to make up for not posting yesterday, have a longer chapter.Tell me what you think. Stay safe.

When seeing a story there’s always a before and after the story. If it doesn’t matter, then it shouldn’t be said.

Problem is, it mattered to y/n, and Tom. Who were each dealing with a problem that technically shouldn’t matter to them but it did. It really did. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be talking about it.

Tim had been kind enough to drive her to her building, but she had kept on talking, cueing Tim to follow after her, and when she hadn’t used the lift, Tim knew something was up. Because when y/n took the stairs, it meant she really didn’t want to go home yet. It’s something he had caught during their relationship. Sure, Tim may have not known her since children like the Hollands, but Tim had been the one to actually observe her. He had learned because he wanted to, not because he had lived with it.

And he knew y/n didn’t do it on purpose, she probably didn’t even know she did it. But Tim followed after her knowing she probably really had to talk about it.

Tim had regretted the breakup the moment it had happened because he had been the one to give up. But he thought he needed a breakup, because it was getting repetitive, not because he had stopped loving her. Especially not because of the reason for the breakup. They hadn’t really addressed it yet. Not again. He knew they had been on different stages of their relationship, but he never really thought how far off of each other they were. The worst part about their breakup was how aware he was that they still loved each other.

He watched her as she was making her way up.

“It’s wrong, right? This is wrong. You see it too, right?” She asked him.

Timmy chuckled, “what is? The fact you’re not using the stairs?”

“I… No, the fact that,” y/n stopped midway. “I… The fact that Harry and Emma are engaged.”

“Why is it wrong?” Tim bit his lip. “They love each other.”

“But… is it love really?” Y/N crossed her arms looking up. “No, no, I know it’s love it’s just…”

“What do you mean, y/n?” Tim dug his hands into his pockets as he leaned against the wall knowing y/n would probably sit any moment now.

“I don’t know … I know love and it,” she sighed as she finally slid her way down to sit on the stair.

Tim smiled watching her but then sat beside her. “They do love each other.”

“Well, yes they do,” she sighed, “I’m just…”

Tim watched her.

“Harry asked me about it, and I told him not to do it and he did anyway?” She frowned.

Tim chuckled softly, “you’re angry Harry didn’t listen to you for the first time.”

Y/n shook her head. “Not really… but I am his best friend! And I’m sure Sam said no too, I talked about it with Sam, his twin brother and best friend told him to wait. And he didn’t.”

“Why does he need to wait?”

“He’s young… he’s 22 and…wait at least until you turn 24, man, I dunno.”

Timmy laughed. “But what does age have to do with that?”

“But think about it, Tim. It’s soon in their relationship.”

“Maybe, but who’s to judge timing when it comes to love?”

She sighed, “we wouldn’t know much about timing but…”

Tim scrunched his nose. “You’re right I wouldn’t.”

She closed her eyes. “Tim it’s .. not that.”

He gave her a sad smile, “What is it really?”

She stayed quiet and leaned against the wall. Timmy watched her, and pushed a strand of her hair back.

“I love Emma, alright? I seriously… she’s one of the best friends that could’ve come into my life,” y/n started.

“But?” Timmy rested his head on his hand.

She chuckled watching him. “But I know Harry.”

“You know Harry,” Timothee agreed.

“I’ve known him his whole life literally and—“

“So then you know he is in love with her,” Tim added.

Y/N bit her lip. “I know many things about Harry.”

Tim nodded. “Then?”

“I think he’s not being fair,” she said. “He is… it’s just, they’re too young…”

“Too young?” Timothee watched her. “I think you’re just scared of marriage, y/n.”

Y/N froze. “I’m not…”she suddenly turned colder. “but they’re not ready.”

“How do you know that?” He asked.

She raised her hands. “It’s obvious!”

“Well when I asked you, you said no because you weren’t ready and- if she said yes then it means she was ready.”

“Tim.”

“You said it, didn’t you? you said ‘I’m not ready and that’s why I’m saying no’.”

“But I knew I wasn’t ready,” she gulped.

Tim coughed. “And will you ever be?”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “Timmy.”

“I, well, y/n, you know I’m willing to wait a lifetime for you, but…”

She stood up. “This wasn’t about us.”

Timothee sighed. “Well, we hadn’t talked about it.”

“I—-well…”

Timothee stood up. “I’m sorry y/n, but breaking up when knowing we both love each other isn’t easy, I mean we basically broke up because I loved you so much I proposed.”

She glanced away. “That wasn’t the reason why we broke up.”

“No, I know,” Tim dug his hands in his pockets. “it was leading towards it for a while, didn’t it?”

“No, I… Tim, I don’t want...look, I… I meant about Harry…” she sat back down.

“I think you’re just scared that Harry shouldn’t have done it for the same reason as to why you said no,” Timmy pointed out.

“It’s a completely different situation,” she frowned.

“Is it really?” Tim day on a lower step. “Because I know you said no because you’re unsure about your feelings towards someone else.”

She didn’t say anything for a bit. Maybe she didn’t want to admit it to herself.

“No, Tim it wasn’t that.”

“I’m…”he took a deep breath. “I’m okay with it, y/n, as okay as I can be.”

“Tim.”

“Look, I’ve seen the way you look at him,” he shrugged.

She stood up and climbed upstairs nervously. “Tim, no, let’s not have his conversation, please I’m already struggling.”

He closed his eyes. “I know, I see that,” he said as he rushed after her and stopped her.

“See what?”

He scoffed. “The way you look at Tom? Maybe? God, y/n.”

“With pure hatred?” She defended herself as she let out a lsugh. “Tim please I don’t really want to have this—“she kept going upstairs.

“I think you should go for it,” he mentioned.

She stopped and looked back at him. “What?”

“Yes, go for it,” Tim insisted. “isn’t that kind of the reason we broke up?”

“No, Tim, let’s not go there,” she pushed.

“Y/N,” Timothee calmly followed after her. “we were friends before all of this and I know, I think… I think you should try something with him.”

She was confused, Tim tried to map out the emotions she was going through. She licked her lips as she only watched him. Tim only gave her a gentle reassuring smile. But of course she was perplexed, a man who claimed to love her telling her to go with someone else.

“What?” She asked.

“Give it a go.”

“You’re insane.”

He finally stepped on the same level as her. “Y/N, you loved him once, and I know there is still that feeling pounding your head.”

“And what would I even do?”

“Dunno, that I don’t want to know, but let yourself fall for him and then you’ll know it. Give it a go.”

She bit her inner cheeks. “I would never give it a go again because he’s hurt me before, alright? My heart can’t bear that again, and I don’t feel anything—“

“There it is,” Tim chuckled. “So something has happened before.”

She gulped and looked away. “Not really, no.”

“Are you sure?”

“I did have feelings for him,” she admitted.

Tim laughed. “That’s brand new information!”

“Timmy.”

“I am very aware y/n and he has feelings for you,” he pushed.

She rolled her eyes, and kept walking, Tim only followed after her. “That’s the part where I know you’re crazy.”

He watched her with disbelief. “He looks at you the same way I look at you.”

She laughed cynically. “No Tim, he doesn’t...maybe he looks with lust, I dunno he’s a devil.”

“Nono, I’m very observant, y/n,” he reminded her. “and I mean you do this with everyone,” he scoffed. “but you take his breath away.”

“No.”

“And lately he takes your breath away.”

“No, Tim.”

“I honestly,” Tim rubbed his face. “and I hate saying this,” he commented. “you don’t know how much I hate saying this y/n but I really think you should try something... get rid of that feeling you have because I know you, you probably have that little thought roaming in your head,” he pushed her hair back. “Go and try something with Tom, ask him out.”

“Tim.”

“You know you want another heartbreak from Tom,”he sentenced. “and if it takes another heartbreak for you to realize we’re meant to be then…” he shrugged, as his hands landed on her waist.

“Timothee,” she said breathlessly.

“I’ll be here if you want to be in love, I’ll be here when he breaks your heart.”

“Timmy.”

He stepped closer. “You know we’re perfect for each other.”

She looked away. “Sometimes too perfect.”

“But if you love Tom,” he let her go and stepped back.

She frowned. “I don’t…”she confessed. “I should focus on my writing instead.”

He followed once again after her, as she finally reached her apartment.

“Ah yes, tell me what’s the story?”

She looked at the door, and laughed to herself. “I’m writing about falling in love.”

He chuckled. “Such an irony isn’t it.”

You wouldn’t believe it

He leaned against the door not letting her get in. “And how is that going?”

“It’s… going, I am writing about someone falling in love with someone, the truth is I don’t know what makes people fall in love.”

Tim smiled. “Hm, want me to tell you what made me fall in love with you?” He leaned close to her, making her blush.

“Do tell.” She watched him, and she did exactly what he had expected her to do. She looked him in both eyes, her sight traveling from one eye to another..

“The way you look into both my eyes,” he grinned.

She gloomed. “Hm?”

“You do this thing y/n,” but he couldn’t look away from seeing her. “when you look at both of them, your eyes travel, people usually only look at one eye but you always make sure to look at both, to make sure people know you really listen.”

She Cackled nervously. “And that’s what made you fall for me? That I probably can’t focus enough on one eye,” she appealed as she tried to search for her keys.

“Hey, I’m only starting okay? I love the way you’re so… you, you know? The way you don’t care about what everyone says, the way you—“he places his hand on her face. “The way you are brilliant, and so passionate and—ardent and—“

“Those are synonyms.”

“And the way you don’t take bullshit from anyone,” he continued laughing as she finally opened the door, she didn’t walk in, she leaned against the door watching him.

“I give that vibe off yet—“she chuckled. “But you know? Does that make people fall in love?”

Tim only rested his arm right above her and watched her. “Dunno,” he gulped. “Maybe? Or maybe it’s the little details, the props, you know? Flower pots… it’s the moments y/n, a walk under the rain, losing breath after laughing,” he continued, as he could smell her perfume, and he heard her hands mingling with her keys. She was shaking, and Tim knew that her heartbeat was going fast, maybe not as fast as his. He knew she loved him. “Or a coffee in the morning, a kiss…” and he knew she wanted this too, so he didn’t hesitate on leaning over to give her a quick peck to taste the remaining cherry on her lips. He had seen her nibbling on cherries the whole day, supposedly they were for the drinks but Tim knew she loved the sweet taste of the sugary fruits.

She kissed him back, slowly and scared. But then she pushed him away.

“No, Tim, please I can’t do this to you,” she confessed as he watched her.

“Do what?”

“No, no, I—“She looked down. “Tim I am really not—I don’t want to hurt you, alright? I need time… I…”

He watched her.

“This is too complicated,” she squeezed her eyes closed.

Tim sighed as he walked back. “‘It’s alright,” he took a deep breath. “But just so you know, y/n, I am not giving up yet.”

She sighed with a small smile. “Timmy.”

“Tom will never be able to kiss you that way, I’m sure,” he pushed. “I’m sorry, I’ll… I’ll leave now. See you on set.”

“Tim…” she looked up at him. “I’m sorry.”

And he left, not knowing who had had their heart most broken. But he didn’t want to think about it. He used the elevator.

Meanwhile, Tom was also freaking out over the sudden news of the engagement.

“I don’t want to tell Harry he fucked up but he fucked up didn’t he? I love Emma and I know he loves her but this is wrong,” Tom said.

“Yeah… I mean,” Haz didn’t really want to go over this with his best friend as he had already heard him talk and talk and talk about it on the ride.

“Getting married? That’s… crazy,” Tom continued.

“No, getting married is not crazy.” Haz rolled his eyes.

“No I know but,” Tom opened his fridge to get a beer as he threw one at Haz.

“But what?” Haz asked as he opened it.

“The timing…” Tom took a long sip.

“Doesn’t that just come in perfect time for you?” Haz pointed out.

Tom frowned. “What do you mean?”

Harrison laughed. “Look, Tom, I didn’t ask much into it before but you are in love with y/n, and that is a big deal,” he commented.

Tom coughed. “Not really...shit it’s weird you know.”

“I’d say I’m surprised,” Haz admitted. “but now that I’ve been thinking about it all day, you haven’t been subtle about it.”

Tom looked away. “What?”

Haz chuckled and stared at him, incredulous.

Tom waited for an explanation.

“Come on,” Haz pushed. “The way you hate on Tim, they way that even if you claim to hate her—“

“I do hate her,” Tom interrupted.

“Even if you claim to hate her,” Haz emphasized. “You're always there.”

Tom rolled his eyes. “Well but that’s because she’s important to my family.”

“The way that you literally always find a way to be around her just to bother her, and the way you literally know everything about her… Like you literally know everything.”

“Everything she hates.”

“Oh my god, why are you trying to deny this?”

“I’m not denying it… but that doesn’t have to do with anything.”

Harrison frowned. “Doesn’t it, though? You are in love with her, I know it, it’s okay to admit it.”

“Well okay now that you put it that way,” Tom coughed. “Yes I am in love with her,” he continued. “But what do you want me to admit? That she takes my breath away every time I see her but I won’t... and yes she’s probably on my mind 24/7,” Tom sighed as he played with the beer cap. “and she’s literally driving me crazy and I want to kiss her all day long and fuck, she’s so pretty, and god, the way she speaks? And doesn’t care at all, and the way she turns everything pretty?” Tom smiled to himself. “God and she smells amazing doesn’t she? Like... I don’t know shit about flowers but I know she smells like them…” Tom bit his lip. “but ... that doesn’t matter because she won’t know this and if she knew this I’d blame you.”

Harrison just blinked. “What the fuck?”

Tom frowned. “What?”

Haz laughed. “You are literally so in love with her.”

“I’m not.”

Harrison watched him with disbelief and not understanding one bit of Tom's head.

“Okay yes I am, but it’s hard okay?” Tom gulped.”This is literally the first time I ever tell anybody. Dunno.”

Harrison laughed. “Mate... but now it’s so clear,” Haz had to hold his head, “like... her last birthday?”

“What about it?”

“First, that’s why you were killing Timothee with your glance. “

“I hate Tim,” Tom barked. “He is annoying and boring. Because he’s so dreamy, and fuck, he gave her a ride didn’t he? He’s trying to take her back.”

“And he will if you don’t do anything,” Haz pushed.

Tom scoffed. “I can’t.”

“You need to pull another stunt as you did on her birthday?”

“What stunt?”

“Gosh, it makes so much sense now,” Haz asserted. “The gift you gave her?”

Tom smirked, pleased of himself, he had known that he had been the one with the best gift. Not even Timothee with the new Polaroid. And the gift had had y/n texting him for a complete week believing there was something wrong with it, and that I’m any time it would turn out to be a prank. It wasn’t.

“Please,” Tom scoffed arrogantly. “everyone knows she likes The Rolling Stones. She’s so typical.”

“But giving her an original vinyl? Signed?” Haz pushed.

Tom gulped. “I—well, what about it? I’m in love with her, now you know it.”

“Nothing, I’m just calling myself out for being so fucking blind—“Harrison dipped his drink. “How long has this been going on?”

Tom leaned against the counter. “I... well, since forever,” Tom smiled to himself. “Not that... Look, when I’ve dated other girls,” Tom coughed. “I’ve loved them and only them but somehow y/n always finds her way into my heart and that’s annoying like... god”

“I’m just surprised I didn’t notice,” Harrison said.

“I’ve been pretty good at hiding it, even when we’ve kissed I’ve made everyone believe I didn’t like her,” he admitted.

“Even her huh?” Harrison questioned.

Tom sighed. “I couldn’t. Because Harry loved her and if she knew I liked her back when she liked me—Then I would’ve been an asshole to my brother because he’s been the one who was nice to her all this time. And he—He deserves someone like her, and she deserves someone like him.”

“But Harry is engaged now.”

“That’s—I don’t know, I think he’s still in love with y/n,” Tom said. “And I feel like this is a perfect way for Harry to escape rather than actually facing it.”

Haz shook his head. “I think he really loves Emma.”

“I do too, but marriage?” Tom frowned. “Dunno, maybe you’re right.”

Harrison nodded. “God, how was I so stupid? I can’t believe I never saw it.”

“Well, stop it now, okay? I still dislike her and I will keep on disliking her, and I will act like I hate her.”

Harrison frowned. “That’s very stupid.”

“Is it? Look,” Tom took out his phone. “I’ll text her that I hate her and she’ll answer back just that she hates me too.”

Haz frowned. “I don’t get it,” He frowned. “If you now know this, why don’t you just…?”

“It’s complicated.”

Harrison frowned. “Dude she liked you too,” he reminded him. “Why would you do everything you’ve done if you—“

“I may have wanted her to know I liked her,” Tom admitted. “But then I remembered I shouldn’t and—I don’t think she’s ever believed I like her, even when... the fucking yellow flowers.”

“I’ve never understood why it means so much between you both and why you always get tense when they mention it.”

“It’s been a constant prop in our... relationship it’s... nothing,” Tom rubbed his face as his phone vibrated. “She just texted me back.”

Haz watched him. “And?”

Tom coughed, blushing. “She just said… your place in 30?”

Harrison burst out laughing “She wants the d, great, but no, tell her not to come over.”

Tom frowned. “Why not?”

“A, I’m here.”

“You can pretend you’re not.”

Harrison frowned. “That’s gross, I… and okay, but a, I’m here and b) Tom, if you’re in love with her having this whole thing, will only make things worse. You should pursue a relationship instead.”

“Who says I want a relationship? I’m alright like this.”

Harrison rolled his eyes. “You’ll only end up hurting yourself.”

“I can’t want it,” Tom explained. “Besides, I think I’ve hurt her enough for her to not to want one.”

“What do you know?”

“I know her enough, alright? And she probably wants to go back to Timothee Chaglabob.”

“Chalamet-“

“I swear Harrison,” Tom rolled his eyes. “But—I mean if this whole benefits thing works out then I’m good, would I want a relationship where I can kiss her all day and be all adorable and take her everywhere and just make her laugh all day? No. I don’t want any of it, she’s annoying.”

Harrison only watched him, “are you fucking listening to yourself?”

“Yes, I don’t—I am in love with her but I don’t like her.”

Haz couldn’t believe what he was hearing, Tom was probably the most stupid man he’d ever met.

“I genuinely can’t act nice around her,” Tom admitted. “I’m—I can’t.”

“What if you try?” Haz frowned. “Take her somewhere nice, be romantic, see how she responds and then you’ll see how it goes.”

“No.”

“You know what? I don’t even know why I’m arguing with you, you’re so stupid,” Haz said before heading to his bedroom. “Please don’t be too loud.”

Tom only stared at his phone, and texted back: “come here now.”

And Tom knew it took her about 20 minutes to come, so he showered, and he got all dressed up, and then changed into something less nice, a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. He even put on some lotion. He had combed his hair back then ruffled it a bit so it didn’t look bad. But he stared at the house? Did he have to light up some candles? Or was that too romantic and out of place for their new title. He lit some up anyway. Should he play music? He bit his lip but searched for some music.

But this was stupid right? It didn’t have to be this way. It wasn’t romantic. This was not nice.

But before he could even make a decision to turn everything off, y/n had knocked on the door.

And he felt like this was wrong but he couldn’t act like it. And honestly, he’d be an idiot if he denied having any sex.

But y/n was having her own thoughts. She felt guilty. But she technically had Tim’s approval. Didn’t she? But it was wrong and she didn’t know why.

But she had to admit that Tom had left her hot and bothered after kissing her neck in the bathroom. Besides, she could try that thing with Tom. She had to change this whole sexual relationship into an actual relationship. Did she? Or maybe she could only have fun.

Of course, that the moment she’d sent that text everything had probably gone to shit. When driving over to his place she realized how this sounded only like a random booty call when it actually wasn’t. Maybe it was. This was y/n wanting to talk with someone without being judged and someone who probably was on the same page as her.

Because this had her on the edge and as she had typed in some words to her script she actually took into account that she didn’t want to do this.

She needed to change the script. She could lie. She could write about it without living it. But she wrote about it: enemies with benefits. It had a ring to it, it sounded catchy. Hating each other in the day, but pretending to love at night. It wasn’t a sin. Because she technically didn’t have to try anything, maybe she could tell her boss that she really didn’t want to pull such a shitty thing. But writing about sleeping with the enemy… it was sexy.

This was so selfish of her. But Tim had reason on what he’d say, maybe she did want to give one last chance to this. She wouldn’t compel, however. How could she?

She was scared but the moment Tim had told her to give it a go, a thought had swirled in her mind. Could she give it a go?

But she hated him. There was some kind of awakening inside her. But she had to remember what he’d put her through. And how even with this he could turn around and run the other way, far from her. And she won’t be able to hide again.

But sleeping with him couldn’t hurt as long as she wasn’t the one to catch feelings.

When the door was opened she saw Tom, with his hair wet, and smelling so good, his lotion suffocating her and begging her lips to go straight to his neck. The drops on his forehead only there to fill her imagination.

He gave her a grin, but then stared at her sweatpants.

He gave her a second glance and chuckled. “So how is this—“

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know who else to talk to and I really don’t want to tell Harry because well it involves him and I had to talk to someone but I don’t know why I thought of you.”

Tom blinked. “You…what?”

“I just wanted to talk to you.”

Tom chuckled. “Why?”

“I dunno. You know what? Forget it, it’s silly… so,” she squeezed her eyes closed. “Pants off, Holland,” she ordered as she then pushed him against the wall, slamming the door closed and then smashed her lips against his, forcing Tom to close his eyes and place his hands on her waist, his fingers pressing down on her back. She could taste a fainted beer on his lips, and she could smell his shampoo, she could tell he had just showered.

He laughed as he pulled away. “That’s—That’s?”

“I’m sorry I’ve never had a booty call before.”

“I can tell.”

She rolled her eyes and playfully nudged him, letting him go.

“But you wanted to talk?” He chuckled mockingly. “I didn’t know kids these days were calling it that way.”

“Forget it.” She looked around and chuckled to herself. “Candles? And music?”

Tom chuckled. “I—well.”

“You’re a hopeless romantic aren't you?”

“Yeah I was about to turn them off, though,” he admitted. “I kind of forgot I was going to sleep with my worst enemy.”

He blew out the candles and turned off the music.

She chuckled. “This is stupid.”

“Why? Want me to turn them back on?”

“I don’t know, it just—is,” she said. “Besides, I think this is the first time I haven’t had any alcohol on me before doing this.”

“Huh, we’ve been pretty drunk, right?” He bit his lip.“What did you want to talk about?” He wondered as he approached her.

“Nothing.”

“What if we—talk about it while we go for some alcohol?”

“You want to talk?”

“That can be another benefit.” He took her hand back.

She frowned as she watched him, unsure as to why he was acting this particular way. He cupped her cheek, but then frowned.“Weren’t you with Tim?”

She blinked. “What?”

“I saw you leave with him,” he commented.

“I… well, I was but…”

He smirked. “Hm, he can’t satisfy you—and that's why you come to me.”

“What the fuck Tom?” She pinched him on his arm, earning a laugh from him.

“Let’s go for a drive, we need alcohol,” he yelled as he took out his keys.

“You know what? No, fuck off,” she stormed off to her car as Tom followed after her.

“Y/N, no, come on, come on,” he stopped her, taking her from her waist, hugging her from behind placing kisses on her neck. Tom had learned quickly. A kiss on her neck would have her down on her knees. Of course, like everything Tom learned about her, he’d be using it as a weapon.

“Why are you so obsessed with Tim?” She frowned, as he continued to pepper her neck with sloppy wet kisses, making her stomach fill up with butterflies. “Tom.” But he didn’t stop, his hands were now travelling down her stomach, as he sucked on slightly on her neck and then his lips delicately landed on her collarbone. “Thomas,” she closed her eyes.

He snickered against her neck. “You sure you want to leave?”

She closed her eyes as she felt his hot breath against that sweet spot on her neck. She nudged his ribs and then pushed him back.

“Y/N,” he smirked with lust as he pulled her back to him. “Hm, should we go back inside?” He asked as his lips landed on hers, biting on her bottom lip.

She cupped his ass and then deepened the kiss, now he was the one to soothe into her touch, as she slid her tongue in.

She pulled away as he was left dumbfounded, earning a smirk from y/n. “No. Let’s go for that drive.”

He blinked. “Y/N.”

“Cmon let’s go”

“Y/N.”

“Haz is in there, isn’t he?” She questioned.

“He’s asleep.”

She looked away.

“I have beer,” he explained. “We can chug down 8 of them at once and then you’ll forget it’s me who you’re screwing and pretend it’s someone else.”

She scoffed. “Like who?”

“I dunno, Chris Evans.”

She laughed. “I’m not pretending I’m screwing someone else, I just have to… Get to the idea.”

He placed his hands on her waist. “So?”

“No, I’m angry at you,” she pushed him away and then headed to her car.

He let out a cackle, and followed after her, he pecked her cheek before pushing her slightly. “Isn’t that the point, though?”

“No,” she got into her car.

He laughed not letting her close the door. “I love your car is old, just adds in more to the aesthetic.”

“Can you let me close the door?” She begged.

“No,” he chuckled as he sat on her lap.

“Thomas.”

He chuckled. “Hm,” his cold lips landed on her chin. “Y/N.”

She closed her eyes, and Tom slowly closed the door. Y/N opened her eyes with surprise as Tom was now letting his hands inside her t-shirt.

He started to nibble on her ear as she closed her eyes back, her hands roaming through his hair, he licked near the earlobe. Y/n blushed as she then walked her fingers through his chest lining every muscle on his body.

Her fingers shrivelled at the end of his t-shirt as she slowly pulled it off. He smirked as he finally kissed her lips, slowly and coordinated at first but the kiss getting sloppier as her fingers pressed against his bare skin. He tried shifting her as his hands cupped her breasts now, kneading them as he pleased.

She let out a soft moan, as he deepened the kiss, his tongue now sliding in. Tom took her waist in his hands as he then tried to pick her up.

“What are you doing?” She asked between kisses as he tried moving her.

“Sh,” was the only response he gave her. But he reached for something under the seat desperately . He finally reached for something as he pushed the car seat back, giving them slightly more space to move.

He kissed her again, smiling slightly against her lips.

He managed to pull off her shirt, revealing the red lacy bra she had so kindly and carefully chosen.

He took a second to stare at it, catching his breath as he stared at the red bow in the middle of her breasts.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful, y/n,” he gasped as he looked at her face now, with her hair puffed up, and only her eyes covered with slight mascara and a faint pink from the makeup she’d worn at the party. A trace of red lipstick was seen there too.

She grinned at him as she pulled him back down to meet her lips with him, she giggled against the kiss.

“I hate you but I can’t believe how beautiful you are,” he caressed her cheeks with his lips. He dug into his pocket and took out his wallet, searching for the condom.

She didn’t say anything as she slightly bucked her hips against his, her core pooled from every single kiss he had placed on her body, she grinned herself against him to get a sort of friction. Tom managed to move just slightly to path down his way to her chest, leaving a trail of his kisses as it shined with the streetlight.

Her hands went down to his sweatpants that were hiding nothing as his hard length was begging to come out. Her slick hand found its way inside his sweatpants as she palmed above his boxers. He only curved up his hips as she started to graze the tip of his cockhead, as it twitched with the slightest touch.

He curved again but now hitting the claxon, both of them scared by the loud noise, they laughed at each other.

“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath as she tried to hide her giggles. “We have to be careful.”

“No shit,” he laughed as his hands migrated to her thighs, opening her as he managed to pull down her own sweats, revealing the red lacy panties matching with her bra. “All dolled up for me?” He asked cockily as his fingers brushed the little bow on the fabric.

She bit her bottom lip as he found his way down to nuzzle her breasts. She was feeling just slightly guilty that Tim had kissed her just hours before. The little space they had could only give them such movements, but her hand didn’t leave his cock as she traced it up and down, his length swelling up . He moaned just slightly and cursed under his breath as he pushed down his underwear, he couldn’t help it anymore.

“I need you,” she whispered. “Tom, I need you,” she moaned. He wrapped the condom around him.

He nodded fervently as he finally without any warning, pulled down her red panties and pushed into her. He had to take a deep breath as he felt her drenched pussy covering him up. She moaned, enjoying the full blister as he had filled her up.

“So tight,” he moaned as he shifted above her, slowly bucking his hips up and down, her hands landed on his ass, as if trying to push her further into her.

“Oh god,” she gasped, as she danced her own hips around him, with the reduced space they had to barely move but the friction against the seat.

Tom was deep buried in and he slowly started to hip in and out quickly, finding a pace that had y/n moaning his name, but he covered her mouth, and she pushed him further in, trying to avoid another claxon accident as before.

And the windows were fogging up from the heat created between them. Y/N needed to get her grip as Tom kept pushing into her, filling her up until he could feel himself in her stomach roughly. His lips trying to catch hers in between gasps and moans.

“Tom,” was all she could say as her fingers painted down in the blurred window. Her back now moving faster with the help of her sweat.

She was rolling her eyes back with delight as Tom was hitting her right in the spot, she reached down to circle her clit but Tom replaced her hand with his, as he circled it slowly, teasing her at first. But then rubbed it fast enough for her to wash out her orgasm.

But her own hands scratched his back as she was trying to catch her own breath, as she tried to get a grip of the reality that was going in between. The smell of sweat combined with his lotion and her own perfume. The taste of beer combined with her own taste of cherries.

She couldn’t hear anything, only his gasps and her name coming from under his breath. She moaned just slightly as he thrust in and out, a fast rhythm, that was getting sloppier with each thrust.

He was shaking and he finally curved in, he groaned but then finally shivered as he came right into her, her clenching pussy just tightening it.

He moaned her name, throwing his head back as he then plopped himself above her, catching her breath. He finally pulled out but remained kissing her neck.

He kissed her once again, as she caught her breath, little gasps as her fingers swirled around his hair. She stared into his caramel eyes and then cupped his face, pecking his lips just slightly, his hair now combined with droplets of his sweat and the water from his earlier shower. His cheeks red as he continued kissing her.

“Shall we go for that ride now?” He asked, chuckling slightly.

“I don’t know if I can drive,” she admitted as she moved her legs, panting softly.

He smirked cockily. “Hm, I’ll be driving your car then.”

She rolled her eyes as he tried to sit up, once against hitting the claxon letting out a loud noise.

They laughed at each other.

“Well if Haz wasn’t up, then he sure is by now,” he chuckled.

He pulled up his underwear and sweatpants.

“Mmh, drive shirtless,” she pleaded.

He smirked. “Alright.”

The ride was quiet at the beginning. Y/n had put in Tom’s t-shirt. Tom’s hand would land on her thigh every now and then but y/n would flick it off. However, her own hand hadn’t left his leg. He would cough and slightly move trying to remain calm. Y/N only smirked.

“You hungry?” He asked, as his hand landed on Hers, squeezing it slightly.

“Yeah, a bit.”

“I’m craving breakfast,” he commented as he brought her hand to his lips, kissing it lightly.

“At 1am?” She laughed pulling her hand back.

“Why not?”

“Isn’t like a worldwide known rule not to have breakfast with your booty call?” She pointed out.

He laughed. “I love how you keep calling me a booty call.”

“Well aren’t you?” She giggled.

He grinned. “Well, but it’s not the morning so it wouldn’t be cheating the rules, it’s against the rules to have breakfast the next morning.”

“Huh.”

He chuckled. “And I know this place that’s open 24/7.”

“But isn’t it against our other rules? We are enemies, Holland.”

“I’ll make you choke on a waffle, don’t worry,” he pushed. “And besides we can get it to go and have it somewhere else, therefore… Not breaking any rules.”

She sighed. “Fine. Let’s go have breakfast.”

Y/N had to give him his shirt back as they went to the place. But as soon as they were back in the car, y/n was hesitating. She would be driving now.

“It’s late, Tom I should probably go back home,” she reminded him. “I’ll drive you home and—“

“Or we could go to the treehouse,” he commented.

“The treehouse? At 3 in the morning?” She laughed. “I’m not sneaking into your parents’ house.”

“Why not?” He laughed. “It’s not sneaking in, really, I’ve got the keys, and I’m allowed to go there.”

She chuckled. “You really want to take me to your parents’ house to have breakfast?”

Tom scrunched his nose. “Well if you put it that way.”

“That would get you in trouble wouldn’t it?”

“Maybe.”

“Let’s go then,” she smirked as she took a sip of her milkshake.

And they were quiet for the ride, as Tom would only sing along to the songs playing on the radio. Y/n’s old car couldn’t play anything but cassettes, which at the moment Tom didn’t really want to listen to. He knew most cassettes had been a gift by Timmy.

He had been honest, he loved her car. An old, silver vintage car. It belonged to her grandparents and she had been keen on getting it back on.

Tom only watched her as she was licking the tip of her lips and focused on the road. Or so did Tom think.

Because what he didn’t know was that y/n was debating with herself over the current events. The fact that Harry was engaged. The fact that Timmy had kissed her and the fact that she had ended up having car sex with Tom anyway.

But she stayed quiet, and even quieter as they sneaked into the Holland’s household, y/n trying not to chuckle as they made their way to the garden.

They managed to climb to the top, y/n being helped by Tom as they tried to get their breakfast intact as they pushed it up.

Eventually, they were at their old treehouse, where there were too many memories for them to even remember.

Their breakfast hadn’t really survived as the now soggy pancakes and waffles were crumbled up. They didn’t care anyway.

Tom had been brushing her hand for a while now as they peacefully and quietly ate. They were on the floor of the treehouse sitting right in front of each other. The food placed in front of them as they both ate from each other’s plate.

“Are we gonna talk about it, though?” She asked as she pulled back her hand just as Tom had brushed it again. This was too nice for it to be real. She was only expecting Tom to pull any kind of stupid stunt he liked to pull.

Tom cleared his throat, glancing slightly at her. “What?”

“Your brother? going insane?”

Tom laughed, “Ah you think it too?”

“It is insane, he asked me about it like two weeks ago and—“

“You said no, right?” He frowned.

“Yes I said no, I told him that he should wait—“

“Because he should!” Tom agreed.

She looked down at the waffle with strawberries. “This is crazy.”

Tom licked remaining syrup off his fingers. “Haz didn’t agree with me.”

“And Tim didn’t agree with me.”

“Ugh,” Tom groaned. “Timothee Chalkboard.”

She only smiled, rolling her eyes. “Why do you hate him?”

“He’s dumb—“

“He’s not.”

“ and I can’t believe you are so smitten with him.”

“We’ve had this conversation before, Tom,” she rolled her eyes.

He chuckled as he stared down at the food. “God but what do you see in him?”

Y/n cleared her throat. “I am not dating him anymore, I’m not—”

He smirked. “Oh, so you are not into him.”

“That’s not what I said,” she rolled her eyes.

Tom scooted closer, as he poked her with a soggy bite of waffle. “Are you into someone else?”

She groaned cleaning her cheek. “Hm no, not really,” she looked away. “But going back to your brother it’s crazy right?”

“Super crazy like Harry you’re so-”

“Young! Yes, and they’re not—”

“Ready!” Tom finished growling. “I mean they do love each other.”

Y/n nodded. “But it feels off right?”

Tom nodded in agreement as he smiled at her. “Gosh, who are we? Agreeing on something?”

Y/n laughed. “Right?”

“We sleep together and we agree on things?” Tom squeezed his eyes.

“Ha, maybe everyone was right,” she commented.

“Huh, maybe they were,” Tom grinned.

Because truly everyone was right. Even if they were stupid enough to admit it.

“This place brings back so many memories,” Tom admitted as he looked around, it looked dusty and old and really forgotten. Some toys were there, boxes full of crayons. Stories waiting to be told.

“Yeah, like the time you pushed me off and I broke my ankle,” y/n recalled.

Tom laughed. “I’m sorry, I was an asshole.”

“Was?” She questioned. “I’m probably being poisoned right now.”

“Mmh,” he reached for her pancake. “I didn’t, see?”

“You haven’t had any of my milkshake, could be here,” she pointed out as she took a sip.

He grinned. “You figured my evil plan, killing you with milkshake.”

She chuckled. “But so many memories, yes,” she looked around. “I think this is the place where we filmed amazing movies here, you remember?”

“I do,” he laughed. “But please we have more memories rather than only when children.”

“I remember that one time when you were...17 I think and you got drunk and jumped off and landed on me,” she recalled again.

“Shit, that was your... “

“Elbow, yep,” she laughed. “You really have a thing with breaking my bones, huh?”

He smirked. “Yeah, almost broke your legs tonight.”

“Shut up,” she rolled her eyes.

“No, but… Really, I’m sorry I was a real asshole to you all these years,” he apologized.

“Oh, so this is what I needed? We had to have sex for you to finally realize what big of an asshole you were?”

He gulped. “No, I knew it.”

“That makes it worse,” she groaned as she rolled her eyes.

“I know.”

“But,” she chuckled. “All good now, you bought me a pancake so I can’t be mad at you,” she grinned as she took a bite. “That is until you come up with another type of bullshit.”

“So pancakes now, huh? Not yellow flowers got it,” he smiled sadly.

“Yes, pancakes,” she cleared her throat, as she then reached for her backpack, pulling out a Polaroid camera. “Wait, smile.”

Tom watched her but then smiled at her, posing as he took a bite. And y/n snpped the picutre, as Tom leaned over to see it, and then y/n waited for the picture to dry out, she could feel him breathing against her neck, he placed a soft kiss on her shoulder and she knew it when it finally revealed itself, so simple, a picutre of Tom biting on a waffle in the middle of the night. But she knew it, she’d give it a go.

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dclsbaby · 3 years

Text

mykonos-crossed lovers (part ii) 🦋

🎶 playlist for part ii

prologue

part i

part iii

part iv

Summary: When you drunkenly book a girls trip to a tropical Greek island to help mend your broken heart, you would never for a second think it will take you exactly to where he is. Him. A tale of the right person at the wrong time, an overused cliché made into plots of movies you never thought would live through in your reality. Two people, still madly in love with each other, hearts still broken, suppressed by the alcohol and distractions consumed on this trip. Will they let their egos get in the way, protect what’s left of their already broken hearts, or will let their hearts speak?

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: angst angst and more angst

Author’s Note: part 2 is finally out! thank you so much for the continued love on MCL, i can't accurately put into words how much it means to me seeing all the positive responses! i hope i haven't upset you too much on last chapter’s cliffhanger, and if so, i hope this one makes up for it a little bit 🤍 please let me know what you think! xx

Gif:

***

“It’s funny, I’ve flown out to this island to forget you, yet here you are. I can’t ever get away from you can I?” Dom asks, rather rhetorically. Shocked, you turn your head and see your ex standing in front of you, in Mykonos, of all places. You cringed at his honesty, but you can’t say you didn’t escape to the warmer climates for the same reason. “Hi, Dom,” you smile at him. “The boys are here?” you ignore his initial remark. “Yeah, Mase, Davo, and Ben are sat there,” he gestures to a table close by yours. “Luke’s flying out tomorrow”, he says. “So the full team,” you comment. “It seems you’re in for quite a holiday then,” you add.

He walks ahead to stand next to you, his toned arms resting on the white border, dangerously close to yours and he takes in the view you’ve been absorbing. Silence fills the space between you two. A little to quiet for both of your likings, you could’ve sworn you heard your heart beat out of your chest. You decide to break the silence.

“So, how’ve you been?” you asked, voice a little shaky, unsure if you even wanted to know. You looked up at Dom, and caught him sniggering at the question. “Never better,” he raises his eyebrows. “Got my call-up, ball finding the back of the net week in week out, all’s well. You?” he shifts his body to look at you. “Well,” you pause to face him. “I’m on a tropical island with my girls, away from work and grey British skies, so I’m enjoying it,” you replied.

“British Vogue is it?” he asks. You landed the job a couple of months after your breakup. It was the job you needed to make a life out of yourself, to have a career you loved. It was a job you left him for. So, to say that you were good at it was an understatement. If you had to endure the pain of a devastating heartbreak for your career, it had to mean everything to you. And it was. It had been your dream job for as long as you could remember, you have always loved fashion, and this love was complemented when you began dating your ex who has an eccentric fashion sense, always straying away from the mainstream mediocrity, which somehow, he always pulls off. It’s a gift.

“Yeah, how’d you know?”, you were curious. “Mum’s told me about it, she’s proud of you, by the way,” he stops to look at you. “Sounds like a big deal,” he says as he lets out a small smile. It’s the first time he’s ever shown some warmth since the conversation started. You smile back at him and nodded. “It’s been my dream since forever, if you remember,” you look up at him. “And that’s lovely from your mum, do let her know that I miss her,” your heart warms thought of his mum. “Of course you do, you two would gang up on me whenever she’s around,” Dom chuckles. “Only because we both know how obnoxious you could be,” you joke. “Obnoxious enough for you to break my heart I see,” he jokes as he smiles at you sadly. “I d-didn’t mean it like that,” you feel terrible. “I know, I was messing with you,” he lied. A part of him wants you to know that his heart is still broken.

Two people, former lovers, with so much shared memories, once each other’s worlds, reunite in unexpected circumstances.

“I miss you, you know,” Dom says. Your head turns to face him as you try to catch a look of his eyes that are looking down on his fingers. Standing at 6’2, you had to crane your neck to properly look at him. A painfully gorgeous man, his green-hazel eyes still shine so bright despite the evening sky, lips so full waiting to be touched, his curly locks tied up in a bun only to accentuate his perfectly sculpted jaws. He is so beautiful, the pain so visceral, so intense.

***flashback***

“It’s not fair,” your best friend said. “You two would make the most gorgeous babies,” you and Dom chuckled at her comment. “When they’ve got a mother with a face like this I’d imagine it to be difficult to not produce beautiful babies,” Dom says as he cups your face and plants a kiss on your forehead. “You did not just say ‘produce’!” you move away from him, jokingly made a disgusted face and laughed at his choice of words.

Later that night as you two were tucked in bed, you drift off into a daydream which caught Dom’s attention. “What are you thinking of in that little head of yours babe?” he asked. You softly smile at him. “You really think we’d have babies?” you asked as you look at him. “What do you mean?” he asks, shifting his body so it’s resting on his side, with his knuckles supporting his head up. “I mean, is this where we are headed?”, you clarified. Dom runs his fingers through your hair. “I absolutely wouldn’t mind having babies with you,” he pauses as he moves closer to you. “I want no one else more than you, to be the mother of my children, my partner through it all,” he looks at you with loving eyes. “You mean it?” you asked, a little surprised at his honesty. “I’ve never meant anything more in my life,” he says as he pulls your body closer to his.

***

Dreams of starting a family with who you thought was the love of your life quickly shatter as you realise where you were; stood in front of him, both with hearts that need mending.

“Don’t do this,” you quietly say as you stare into his eyes. “What? It’s true,” he shrugs. “I miss you and I thought you should know. You should know how much you’re hurting me by not being with me,” Dom confesses. The alcohol has definitely kicked in, Dom thought to himself. Liquid courage got him pouring out the subconscious thoughts he’d never unlock without a little help. “Dom, please. You don’t mean it, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” you close your eyes for a second. “You’ve had a lot to drink, you should go be with the guys,” you say as you take your arms off the wall. “Come, I’ll take you back,” you say as you lightly push his elbow to lead the way.

“What more do I have to do to show you that I am still in love with you? Fuck’s sake,” he says as he mutters the last two words. He quickly turns around to face you, shocking you in the process as you drop your arm. “I don’t know, Dom, maybe not have tabloids put pictures of you and different girls on its covers I’d assume?” you sarcastically said, referencing to the covers you have seen of him from the week before.

Dom cringed at your comment and shakes his head. “You seriously can’t believe what those tabloids say-they blow things out of proportion!” he says as he flails his arm out of frustration. “And did you expect me not to see other people? What was I supposed to do, sit and mope around, waiting for you to come back to me? Please, do enlighten me!” he encourages. “Tell me how I can get over you because I am desperate to get you out of my fucking head,” he rants angrily, loud enough to get the attention of several guests.

He pauses to catch his breath. Before opening his mouth again to spill his suppressed thoughts.

“You were my heart, my soul, my whole fucking body—my entire life revolved around you!” he yelled, not as loud, but his frustration was emphasised as he stresses every syllable. Every bit of pride he held onto dissipates, showing his true feelings that still held onto you.

Offended, you retaliated. “You act as if I didn’t do the same for you! But I’m not stood here telling you how much I’ve missed you after I’ve fucked about with random guys!” you replied, matching his volume.

“I’ve never fucked anyone since you, so don’t ever fucking accuse me of that,” he says in disgust. “And you have no right to tell me how I should cope, when you left me! You were the one who left!”, he points at you repeatedly. “You left me with nothing,” he says nearly out of breath, and drops his arms to his sides.

“It surely didn’t seem like it when you go through girls like they’re some kind of pitstop!” you angrily responded. “I was fucking hurt! You fucking broke me! I was sad and desperate, give me a fucking break!” he says as he brings his hands to his forehead. “And don’t act so innocent,” he spits out. You give him a confused face, unsure as to what he meant. “I know you’ve been out with him,” he emphasises. “Yeah, our friends talk,” he states the obvious.

You knew who he was talking about. The friend he fell out with, another footballer friend. Things got too competitive, the words exchanged at the end of a match too harsh to redeem with a handshake. The same friend who could’ve sworn he chatted you up first, but you and Dom’s connection was too strong to deny. Of course, it was nothing like he insinuated. His friend, or, former friend, rather, had dipped his toes into the world of fashion, which caught the attention of your seniors. They assigned you to an interview with him, knowing your connections in the sporting industry and knowledge of it, as you dated a footballer after all. “Th-that was nothing,” you shake your head in disbelief, shocked at what you’re being accused of. “Bullshit,” he curses. He still remembers the day he saw you two on the news. Dominic Calvert-Lewin’s Ex Moves On with His England Teammate?, the headline says. Beneath it were pictures of his former friend sitting opposite you, as you two enjoy each other’s company at his favourite breakfast place in London. It is your favourite too. He recalls trying to ignore the jealousy, he tried to stop reading gossip sites that had the tendency to over-exaggerate, but he couldn’t. It made him angry, so angry, he threw his phone across the room and smashed it into a wall, its screen shattering. Sick and nauseous, he ran to the bathroom and dunk his head into a toilet bowl, dispensing the contents of that day’s breakfast. The effect you had on him was still potent and undying.

Your conversation was interrupted when you feel a hand wrap its fingers around the back of your arm, surprising you as you jump a little. “Hi, hun, everything okay?”, asked two of your friends, who spotted you as they were making their way to the bathroom. You nodded and gave them a smile, “I’m okay,” you whispered. They were beyond shocked to have seen Dom, but they knew better than to mention the obvious. “Give us a shout if you need anything,” your other friend says softly. You nodded. Your friends waved at Dom, then walked to where they were headed, which Dom did the same before you two returned to your conversation.

You take a deep breath before speaking. “You know I never meant to hurt you, Dom,” you look at him with sad eyes. “You know why I had to end things with you, I honestly thought you understood,” you say as you try your best to blink the tears away. “No, I never understood, and I still fucking don’t,” he says as his large hand grips the surface of the wall.

“None of this makes any sense to me! I understand that it is important for you to prioritise your career, be in control of your life or whatever it was you said,” he throws a hand up. “But I will never understand why you had to sacrifice me in the process, of all things,” he replies with absolute honesty. “So, what? You expect me to drop every possibility of starting a career instead, and invest all my time and energy in you?” you ask in disbelief. “That’s not fair, Dom!” you argue.

Dom throws his head back out of frustration as you cross your arms. “I would’ve fully supported you every step of the way, given you the space you needed, anything!” he responds. “But instead you left, and took my entire life with you,” he argues back, panting as he tried to catch his breath. “You didn’t have to leave,” he quietly says.

You two look at each other in silence, both feeling the pain the other endured. The pain heavy, overwhelming, a sinking feeling.

“I wasn’t trying to compromise you,” you say softly. “I had felt so detached from myself and made you the centre of my life and I was fucking terrified, Dom,” you try to justify yourself. “Had you left me at any point, I wouldn’t have survived it,” you sigh.

“Had I left you? How could you ever assume that? You think I am strong enough to be apart from you for even just a day? For fuck’s sake,” he curses as he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose out of frustration.

“I never said you would, I said if you did,” you clarify.

“So, you’re saying you left me purely due to a hypothetical scenario? Come fucking on. Don’t you fucking get it?,” he pauses. “You left me because you were afraid you couldn’t live without me, when that was never the case to begin with. If anything, it was the other way around,” he mutters the last sentence, just enough for you to hear.

“What?”, you asked, looking up at him.

“If one of us were to be too attached to the other person, it would be me. I’m not even fucking ashamed to admit that. I’m just pissed you assumed I could ever leave you. And that you broke my heart,” he reveals, a little too much for his liking but he didn’t care. You had to know.

“I-I never knew you were this upset,” you reply, still trying to process what he just said. “Clearly,” Dom says with sarcasm. “All you do is assume,” he comments. “That’s not fair,” you respond. “None of this is,” he quickly says. “I’m sorry I hurt you, I hope you know I would never intentionally do anything to make you feel that way,” you try to assure him. “Yeah okay,” he looks away.

Silence fills the room once again. What used to only be comfortable silence between you two turned into awkward, deafening silence. Silence between two people still in love with one another, both stubborn, both hotheaded, both their egos in the way.

You hated this. You wanted out. Your heart could no longer handle the different coexisting emotions, the sadness, anger, exasperation, confusion, equally intense, equally felt. It was all too much.

“I-I think I’m just going to go, it’s been lovely to see you, I'm sorry again Dom, truly. Have a great-“, “You’re fucking joking,” he cuts you off and shakes his head. You sigh, surprised at this interruption. “What now, Dom?” you asked, a little agitated.

“You’re leaving? After I’ve poured my heart out to you? Fucking pathetic that,” he said angrily. “What else was I supposed to say, Dom! I told you I was sorry, I told you I didn’t mean to hurt you! What more do you want?”, you responded with aggravation.

“YOU! I want you! How could you be so dense? Honestly, fuck this—you broke my fucking heart and I am not going to let you walk away from me again,” he gestures angrily. “This time I’m leaving you, have a great fucking night,” he says as he storms off, taking half of your heart with him.

At that moment, it felt as though every effort you had put into moving on, all your self-care nights, girls night outs, mental health days, music playlists of happy songs, immersing yourself in work, suddenly meant nothing. All your efforts were countered, destroyed after seeing him again for the first time in months. All you could do was stand there and watch him leave you standing alone, under the blue Mykonos sky with the most breathtaking view of the island, whilst heartbroken once again. The perfect irony.

You were left in shock. You could see Dom walking through the crowd where everybody was partying from your peripheral vision. It took him way too quickly for your liking to wrap his arms around a certain blonde-haired girl in a blue dress you recognised from tabloid pictures. You feel a sharp pain in your chest from a sight you never wanted to see. You knew you had no right to feel this way since you were the one who left, but it hurt you nonetheless.

Two things could’ve come out of this scenario. You could a) suck it up, take three straight tequila shots and party the night away with your girls, who are increasingly growing concerned about your whereabouts, or b) you could call it a night and figure your heart out.

After moments of deliberation, you chose the latter option. The intense conversation you had with Dom was too emotionally draining for you to continue on. Seeing your ex on the exact trip you booked with your girls to remedy your heartache, listening to him tell you how much you’ve broken his heart, how he wants you, but proceed to wrap his arms around another girl minutes after, all in one night... you could not bear it all. You quietly made a swift exit and made sure to text your girls’ group chat as you’re walking.

Babes, I’m heading back to the villa. Rough night. Details tomorrow. Will leave some paracetamol on the counter. Be safe and have a blast! Love you. X

You took the furthest route towards the exit door away from the party scene, not giving your friends a chance to even stop you. You wrap your arms around your body, holding yourself together as your heart crumbles. The only affection you could seek from is yourself. The pain of growth slowly paying off, as you manage to at least leave the scene in one piece.

However, despite extra efforts to not get noticed, Dom caught you slipping out of the club.

You stood outside the breezy Mykonos night and waited for your taxi to come. What just happened? You thought to yourself. You were a bit tipsy from the drinks, your tired body making you feel a little delirious. It seemed like it was all a dream, a nightmare perhaps, but it isn’t. That actually happened. You inhale the fresh air, and pace your breathing to calm your nerves. The background music spilling from the narrow gaps of the doors slowly fade as you close your eyes and focus on your peace.

Peaceful silence suddenly interrupted by a loud sound of doors bursting open.

What the fuck was that? you thought to yourself as you turn your head towards the loud noise. Your heart nearly stopped when you saw Dom clumsily stumble through the door. “What are you doing?” you asked, completely taken aback. “I saw you walk out,” he says out of breath. “And I know you like to go on walks to clear your head. I was making sure you weren’t, this isn’t the place where you could do that safely,” he continued. “I know, I’m waiting for a taxi,” you say quietly. Dom nodded. “Okay,” he looks away. “Be safe,” he says as he looks at you one last time. You look at him with a sad smile and nod.

As Dom retreats back into the club, he had to hold his chest, clutching where his heart is to contain the pain of seeing you force a smile at him, it was too intense, he couldn’t bear it. He wanted nothing more than to pull you into his arms and tell you again how in love with you he is, but he knows his heart can’t take another heartache.

So Dom does what he does best, fake a smile, join his friends, and power through the night despite the building anxiety of being away from you. He feels sick to his stomach and would love nothing more than to call it a night. He goes on to reject every girl who threw themselves at him left and right, which Mason took notice of.

“Mate you okay? You don’t seem like yourself,” asks Mason. “(Y/N). She’s here. Well, she was,” Dom says. “Here? In Mykonos?”, Mason asks in disbelief. Dom nods his head. “Shit. What happened?” asked his concerned friend. “Told her she broke my heart. I lost my head. Told her I want her, then walked away,” muttered Dom as he looks down to play with his fingers. “Mate, I mean, do you still want her? Even after everything you went through?” Mason asks carefully, cautious to push any buttons.

Dom takes a deep breath.

“There is nothing in this life I want more than her,” he spills, looking at his friend dead in the eye.

“You know what you have to do, Dom.” Mason says.

#dominic calvert lewin #dominic calvert lewin imagine #dominic calvert lewin imagines #dominic calvert lewin blurb #mclfic

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