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koushisatori · 3 years

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if you can't believe in others, at least believe in us

kyoutani x gn!reader

genre: as ordered: a bit of angst w a touch of comfort

warnings: one (1) big jealous idiot, miscommunication

word count: 5.4k

note: this is smth an anon asked me to do (but like...nearly a year ago, I'm not sure if anon is still there or if they remember and my dumbass deleted the ask so I just beta-ed through whatever I had but I know they called me out on enjoying jealous characters so here we go) I'm sorry, mysterious anon, I'm stupid </3 Anyway, that's that. I don't remember if reader was supposed to be female or not so I made it gn!reader (but if I forgot to change something, pls tell me so I can fix any errors c: It's also my first attempt I apologize in advance)

In the beginning, you weren't sure why your boyfriend is ignoring you

You can't remember doing something that would annoy him, nor do you remember an instant of anger in his eyes that would give you a hint about his reasoning to stay away from you

He explained early on that sometimes he just needs a day of distance because Kentarou could feel the anger simmering right under the surface, enough that something small could tick him off already, and he would hate if you were on the receiving end of this unexplained fury

Both of you also made sure to promise each other to clearly communicate, the relationship between the two of you would not last long if you're not properly telling each other what might be bothering or hurting...just in general cross a boundary

Communication probably was one of the most important aspects of your relationship

cue to the actual situation: your boyfriend avoiding you

So, Monday evening you think maybe it's this overwhelming sensation of unexplained anger and that something at morning practice ticked him off completely

But then Tuesday comes and goes, and your boyfriend had avoided you all day long, did not even bother to read your messages,

on Wednesday, you try to talk to him, but all he does is glaring at you with a look that leaves you speechless and kind of heartbroken,

Thursday is the day you're replaying everything you did on Monday, trying to find something that he could have misunderstood, yet no matter how hard you think about it…your brain won't come up with a reason that explained why Kentarou was so upset with you!

So you decide to make him talk to you on Friday

Enough is enough, right? For gods' sake, he is your boyfriend! You miss him and his strong arms that give hugs so warm that you melt right into them

You don't get a second alone with him until school ends

you practically sprint out of the school building over to the gym, knowing that he had a free hour, which means that he is probably the first person there - your only chance

There he is, sitting with his back to you, aggressively chewing on a bun filled with chicken - his usual that reminded him of his favorite dish - glaring holes into the ground

After taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you carefully aks: ''Kentaro…Ken…?'', slowly stretching out your hand, wanting to rest it on his shoulder to maybe help to soothe him a bit

he flinches instead and his heated, agitated gaze meets your eyes, making you recoil in return

''…will you talk to me, I miss you…'' you say softly, realizing how it hurt being ignored by him

''Ah, suddenly you miss me…'' he spits, narrowing his eyes ''…didn't fucking seem like it the last time I saw you…''

''Kentaro, baby, I have no idea what you mean,'' you plead, keeping your voice low to hide the desperation lacing it, confusion written all over your features

all Kyoutani does is growl, hopping down from where he's sitting while shouldering his gym bag

''...shouldn't have been so flirty with Shittykawa like that then-'' he grumbles - ''Ken, I didn't-'' you insist, but he continues ''twirling your hair, batting your pretty eyelashes at him, fuck you Y/N, if you want him, then feel free to take a fucking leave" Kyoutani cusses, not even listening to you

You shake your head, ''Kentaro, no, you totally misunderstood the situation,'' you follow up, panic seeping into your voice now that you knew what he referred to, ''I love yo-''

''Tsk'', he moves to leave

you try to take his hand but, instead of turning around, Kyoutani just rips it away from you, tucking it into the pocket of his jacket

from behind you, you hear Yahaba and Oikawa approaching (talking about Volleyball and Captains duties)

once they guessed what must have happened, they offered you their help (they both swear that Kyoutani will never ever find a ''cute s/o as you are, y/n-chan, I'm worried for my little angry pomeranian kohai'' )

Usually, you would try to talk to him, but after enduring a week of radio silence and now this treatment, you were tired of upholding something that seemed like a lost cause

you just wave both setters off and leave the school grounds, a frown plastered onto your lips and tears swimming in your eyes

Kentarou had not listened to you, did not even really look at you, and the few seconds he did, his eyes were filled with rage instead of the warmth he had usually reserved for you (and only for you)

If your boyfriend thinks avoiding you for a week and blaming you for something ridiculous without hearing you out is how you handle a relationship…maybe you would have to consider not pursuing it any longer

Which is easier said than done

The whole night you wait for a message, anything, and then all Saturday morning

you still had hope left

You get one from Yahaba, who tells you that Oikawa tried to clear up the situation as well after the reason for your fight dawned on him (Kyoutanis piss poor mood and behavior towards him a strong indicator) but Kentaro, again, just ran off

The future team captain even called you after your lackluster answer, listening to you getting the frustration and sadness out of your system

It didn't matter, right? Your boyfriend decided to unofficially call it quits by implying that your feelings for him were not genuine instead of using his mouth to talk to you and disregarding everyone involved

as if he wanted to ignore the truth as a convenient excuse to get out of your relationship

that's the conclusion your brain came up with

You softly sniffle in the privacy of your room, clutching a pillow to your chest (which has seen more tears in the last two days than in the past three years), deciding that it would be a good idea to go into the city to treat yourself

knowing that your mother has a hair-dresser appointment somewhen today, you go and announce that you would join her to finally buy the latest season of your favorite series

once there, you additionally get microwave popcorn, chocolate, and ice cream, as well as a pretty shirt you saw on a mannequin while window shopping

you feel a lot better after spending some money and ignoring the lingering sadness of your presumable break up with Kyoutani (who you love ok, it is not that easy)

In between your stops, you meet Iwaizumi and Oikawa munching on fatty burgers (celebrating your cheat days like a holiday and indulging in whatever your heart desires, is what makes it easier to stick with healthier habits the rest of the time was the questionable explanation coming from the brown-haired setter, pointing at you with a soggy potato fry)

after a moment, the setters eyes turn sad, a frown replacing the smile on his lips

he wraps his fingers around your wrist to stop you from going just yet, apologizing for being the cause of your fight and for being unable to talk some sense into him

(you assure him that it is not his fault, knowing that your friend will probably brood over it otherwise, which wouldn't be fair)

Iwaizumi adds that Kyoutani will come around and that his cooldown time is just longer than those of other people (and if not, he will give him one of his famous volleyballs to the head and use his status as only truly respected senpai to talk some sense into him) but you again decline their suggestions

after saying goodbye (and seeing Iwaizumi give his best friend an assuring gentle pat on his shoulder, the secret softy in the usual harsh ace shining through)

If Kentaro was willing...able to throw away your relationship this easily, he can't possibly really love you, and you'd accept this even if it's hard and painful

Now remembered of what you had attempted to forget about, you feel your eyes sting with unshed tears (you thought there was no possibility of you having more tears to spill, yet the impossible seemed to be the case) you look down at your phone to text your mom and frown

Kentaro 🥰: we need to talk. Kentaro 🥰: meet me there [location]

For a second, you hesitate, biting your lower lip harshly…you really want to go and talk to him but…

The tears still sting in your eyes and blurring your view reminded you of what you had gone through the whole time, and that it was his turn to finally come to you

break up or makeup, the ball was in his court now

so while walking to where your mother would be waiting for you, you begin to type

You: No.

You: I waited for you all week, even though you ignored me, and now you expect me to run the moment you choose to stop being a childish idiot?

You: if you decide to speak to me then comqjdkn

Kentarou wouldn't say he feels particularly bad. Not at all! If someone was to ask him, he would probably answer fucking peachy, what the fuck are you asking for or growl angrily. No one would bat an eye and further question him, nor guess that maybe he wasn't as great as he pretended because he missed his gorgeous better half, but…it was his fault, wasn't it?

Of course, he originally thought he had a valid reason to be upset. And if he had just spoken to you about it, everything would be solved now. Instead of being a decent boyfriend, though, his pride overtook his thinking processes once he realized that his behavior wasn't even the slightest bit justified. Not that he knew this when he saw you speaking with Shittykawa right before school. All he could see was his gorgeous s/o shyly fiddling with her fingers, conversing with a leaned forward, very involved Oikawa Tooru. He would have fetched you away from the brown-haired setter. He had no qualms about showing his possessiveness. God, Kentarou wouldn't have hesitated to growl at the tall, brown-haired boy if not for the question he heard coming from the Captain.

''Y/N-chan, how is it that you, an adorable, charming individuum, is with a brute like Mad Dog-chan? I really-'' Well, that's where he decided to leave you with the setter. He didn't need to hear your answer. Didn't want to witness an excuse or maybe the truth. If both of you were so fucking smitten with each other to flirt this blatantly, why don't you just go and cheer for him, hold his hand, and kiss his cheek goodbye? It was his choice to distance himself.

Kyoutani couldn't help the feeling of betrayal and hurt washing over him. Maybe you just used him as a stepping stone to get closer with Oikawa, and Kyoutani has been too blind to see it. He never doubted you or your relationship before, but it's not a secret how eruptive Kyoutani could be. It has always been beyond his imagination how someone so cute and sweet like you could love a person like him. Your friends thought so. The teachers. The whole school! Everyone questioned your poor judgment. And when you came running up to him, you're cheery voice calling out for him, everyone present looked at you like you grew a second head. It's the reason why seeing you with Trashykawa ticked him off so bad. It catered to his biggest insecurities and fears. He knew that all those skeptics would be delighted to see you, everyone's darling, with the schools' star setter. They all would agree that the pretty, handsome young man is a better fit than the always hostile-looking troublemaker.

While Kyoutani didn't take Oikawa seriously in most cases, he undoubtedly was one of the most devoted people Kentarou had ever met. If Oikawa wanted to get a new serve right, he wouldn't stop trying and repeating it until his legs gave in, and Iwaizumi dragged him out of the gym. When he wanted to find more advanced players to practice with, so he could, in return, give this new knowledge to his team, there was no way he would not manage to make it happen. Even if his ideas, wishes, and plans cost him blood, sweat, and tears (like getting Kyoutani to actually train), Oikawa never backed down. Kentarou had heard that Oikawa's last girlfriend dumped him because of his passion for Volleyball. Yet Kyoutani couldn't help but think that, in you, the ambitious setter would have found someone that would be able to handle it. You usually came over to watch the team when you knew that Kyoutani was there to play. You sat on the stands with your homework in your lap and a Seijoh-coloured pencil wiggling between your fingers, not bothered by the noises coming from the court. You play with your earlobe while you frown at whatever problem you came across. You patiently wait for practice to finish. Kentarou was sure that you'd be someone Oikawa would actually try for. You weren't one of his squealing fangirls, hanging from his arm on every opportunity, but his friend. You didn't pester him to take selfies with you while pushing cute bentos into his hands. When you bring food to practice, then it's for the whole team to share. If he wanted you, Oikawa would probably have to win you over and make sure that you'd stay. Courting and all that jazz. In all seriousness, Shittykawa would be a fucking idiot if not.

The dyed-blond wing spiker had been so sure that he was rightfully mad that he didn't stop to think twice before he reacted this coldly towards you. But, and this made it even worse, Kentarou knew that he was wrong the moment you asked what happened after an entire week of enduring his silent treatment. The second he heard your shaky voice and saw the tears welling up in your eyes, his brain rebooted, and suddenly he wasn't so sure of his own reasoning. You two were together for about half a year. Kyoutani - by now - was confident in his ability to identify most of your expressions. All he could decipher in your eyes was pain, paired with a need to understand, but…if he was in the wrong…it would mean that he had hurt you the whole week, which in conclusion implied that Kentarou had been the world's shittiest boyfriend. Fuck, he thought, I don't deserve y/n.

His situation didn't get any better the moment Oikawa entered the gym. The person Kyoutani thought he had a real reason to despise now tried to mend the rift between the two of you.

''Mad Dog-chan, I think you misunderstood something there. Well, no, you decided to not listen-'' The taller male says, hands gesturing wildly. While his voice still had that annoyingly cheery tone, it had something commanding hidden underneath. And oh, how Kentarou hated when someone demanded something of him, even if it was for his own good. ''Don't want to hear it.'' the blond mutters, already aggravated. The brown-haired setter resolutely puts himself in the way again. ''Oh, but you have to! That morning, Y/N-chan literally declared her love for yo-'' - ''I don't fucking care.'' Kentarou barks, not looking Oikawa in the eyes.

After another fruitless attempt to get properly into the gym, he growls and turns to leave. Already on his way to grab his stuff and take a leave, he hears Oikawa yelling. ''You answered and justified why I asked Y/N-chan to begin with!" And then louder, even though he could make out Iwaizumi trying to wrestle his childhood friend back into the gym, "APOLOGIZE, YOU IDIOT! YOU BETTER GROVEL FOR Y/N'S FORGIVENESS! THEY DESERVE BETTER THAN THIS SHOW YOU'RE PUTTING ON, AND YOU KNOW IT!"

This happened on Friday evening, and the guilt was gnawing away on him ever since. On his way home, Kyoutani had automatically taken the detour to your house. Kentarou enjoyed bringing you home (and more often than not, you pulled him inside with you, making him cuddle you!). It makes him feel like a good boyfriend, and he knew that you arrived there safely. He would never tell anybody and deny it if you ever decided to share this, but Kentarou relished in the feeling of your hand holding his all the way while going on about your day. He admired that you'd pet every cat and every dog you meet on the trip home together with him. You were perfect for him…why again did he act like this?

What caused Kyoutani's attempt to apologize - in his usual overly blunt and partly aggressive kind of way - was Yahaba, though. Both boys denied being remotely something beyond 'not really enemies'. But his future team captain was definitely one of the very few people that could and would tell him to his face that he fucked up without real repercussions. He would presumably even help Kyoutani to get it together.

After Yahaba had called you and listened to your heartbreaking rant, the setter realized that you, his friend, and his 'not really enemy' needed to talk ut out. Totally immersed in your tirade, you accidentally let slip that you couldn't endure Kyoutani's treatment any longer. That being pushed over by your boyfriend with brash and hurtful words after handling the cold shoulder was too much. That you expected Kyoutani to break up with you on Monday either way. In-person, if he had mercy on you or continue his treatment as a silent method of doing so. While you told Yahaba about your planned ''get over it-self-care'' weekend (involving tons of ice cream, movies with crying guarantee, lots of blankets, and no smartphone), the setter had already put on his jacket, shooting a message to Kyoutani.

From Yahaba: get your stupid fucking ass outside to meet me, or I'll bench you the complete season next year

Even though the wing spiker was sure that Yahaba's words were nothing but empty words, Kentarou allowed himself to accept this threat as an excuse to put his pride aside. Because, even though Yahaba annoyed him to no end - not as bad as Oikawa but still - Kentarou was also aware that you and he were friends. If someone could help him gaining your forgiveness, Kyoutani had to accept and admit that it was Yahaba. Meeting his light brown-haired teammate was kind of awkward. Kyoutani was unsure what he had to expect, though he should have seen the rough treatment coming. Yet, getting told that you, the person Kentarou was undeniably in love with, felt so neglected and hurt that you deemed this relationship to be as good as over allowed the guilt monster in his chest to grow. Shitty Oikawa was probably right ordering him to grovel and beg on his knees for you to even hear him out.

Your answer to his message was partly unlike you. Well, the last sentence. You usually were pretty forward with him to avoid miscommunication and uncalled-for moping around. And while you sometimes send keyboard smashes to express the chaos you felt, they were always in a separate message and not so…random. The text definitely meant something like ''then come to me'' but somehow, Kyoutani had an uneasy feeling about the whole thing.

Besides, he couldn't just wait till Monday and hope that you'd accept his apology! You may send him away today already, but he still had a teeny-tiny bit of hope. If he let the thoughts of him leaving you or the other way around fester in your mind for two whole days, though,…you'd probably realize that leaving him wasn't that bad of a decision. You'd come to the conclusion that all your admirers could treat you better than Kyoutani did. And he was too selfish to let you leave. Even though all he did the whole week was being self-centered and stuck up, he would be damned to begin being a saint now and let you go. That you at least were willing to talk to him was…a relief, to say the least. Kentarou hoped that this translated to you being willing to put up with him a little longer if he apologized correctly. That you're not opposed to giving him another chance to make things right.

At your house, he was greeted with darkness. Not even a single light illuminating any of the rooms he could see from his spot on your front lawn. And the ones he saw were your and your mom's most-used rooms. Your room window, your mothers' workroom, and the living room area with an adjacent kitchen. All of those rather significant rooms and the lack of light in them seemed to be a dead giveaway for Kyoutani that no one was home. Kyoutani guessed that you were probably out with your mom, glancing over to the empty spot in front of the garage.

Oh god, your mother had been the only supportive person of your relationship. Maybe it's in your family to see the best in everyone, even in shitty people like him. But if you told her about his behavior, she'd most likely not welcome him with a smile ever again, no matter if you forgave him.

There weren't many things Kyoutani could do in this situation, but it wasn't as late as nature let it on, and after a few seconds, he had decided to sit down at the front door and wait for you, hoping that it wouldn't take too long for you to come home. As if fate wanted to tell him something, the wing spiker had put on the jacket with the half-full power bank. He had worn it to the shelter when he visited it this week while distracting himself from your absence in his daily life. You had gifted him the piece of clothing, which is probably why he unconsciously had decided to wear it to everything he did after school in the first place.

Kentarou passed the time by snarling at people eyeing him for a moment too long to not be judgmental, petting the neighbors' cat wandering over to him, and watching videos. Every time he thought ''Y/N would like this'', his heart stuttered guilty.

To Kentarou, it felt like an eternity until your mother's car finally drove up the entry. To avoid your mother's potentially deadly stare, he nervously checked his mobile, realizing that he had waited for a little more than 3 hours. Yet, the wait had done nothing to soothe his nerves. They instantly spiked up again while his heart threatened to jump out of his throat.

She will hate me. Your mother would hate me, she'll hate me, she'll ha-

''Ah, Ken-chan! Good evening.'' Your mother greets him with a tired, yet still gentle smile. Oh. The blond blanches. He'd never admit it, but he enjoyed the treatment he received from your mother more than he should. Being spoken to without suspicion and receiving a warm smile every time without fail was a welcome change to his daily life. Your mother didn't listen to people trying to bad-mouth him. To her, he simply was the boy that - normally - treats her child the way a mother wished for. Even if he pulled a face as long as a fiddle.

''I didn't know you were coming, Ken-chan, or I would have messaged you…but now that you're here, maybe you can assist us out and help Y/N inside? It would help a lot.'' His gaze immediately flitted over to you on the passenger seat. With your arms crossed in front of your chest and that stubborn but endearingly cute pout on your lips, he nearly missed the tiredness your body emitted. Kentarou wanted to rush over to your side immediately but was stopped by your mother again. ''I don't know what you two are fighting about…but please talk to each other. I don't want my baby to be this sad. Especially now, and…'' she rests a hand on his shoulder, her eyes kind and comforting ''…I also don't want to miss you here, alright?'' He stiffly nodded and watched your mother carrying in plastic bags filled with various medicine packages and food.

After coming back to his senses, Kyoutani finally stumbled over to your side, practically ripping open the car door. This new perspective revealed a plaster cast wrapping your whole left leg and a removable wrist brace on your right hand. ''Bab- Y/N…what the fuck…happened?'' His honey-brown eyes continued to wander over your injuries, and with every second, he found more. Scratches and scrapes, bandaids and bandages peeking out from underneath your clothes. ''I'm so sorry,'' he whispered, hanging his head low.

All your intentions to fight his helping hand and limp over to the door by yourself disintegrated into nothing. You never witnessed such a devastated, beaten expression on his face before. Instead, you settle for ''Will you help me?''. A question asked quietly to your fingers picking at a loose band-aid edge on your arm and pressing it back onto the irritated skin.

After you loosened your seatbelt, he waits for you to carefully place your arms around his neck. It is followed by Kyoutani lifting you out of the car so gently as if he was afraid you might break. This whole situation in itself already contradicting his brash appearance and usual behavior. It would give whiplash to all the people pretending to know him. But he was always caring in his own way when it came to you. It's why you loved him after all. Because you usually knew that he loved you, too.

For a few moments, the atmosphere between the two of you felt awkwardly tense, both of you unsure how to interact with each other. The mostly blonde wing spiker breathed out a sigh of relief when you fully leaned into his chest once he stood upright, resting your head against his shoulder. A bit of maneuvering through the front door eventually lead to Kyoutani passing through the hallway and taking you to your room, where he was gently lowering you down on the bed.

It was a now or never kind of situation. For the both of you. While Kentarou was trying to find out where to begin his apology, he took a few steps back in case you wanted space until everything was cleared up.

You unconsciously helped him making a decision by impulsively grasping onto his shirt the moment he started to withdraw, stopping him in his retreating movement. Kentarou saw your lower lips wobbling, teary eyes looking up at him pleadingly.

''Please stay,'' you say weakly, which is enough for him to throw the whole thinking process away and simply sit down next to you, intertwining both your hands. ''I'm staying. I'm not leaving. Not now nor this relationship if you still want...an ''us''. The wing spiker took a deep, shuttering breath. '' I'm sorry, Y/N…'' he finally manages to say, honey eyes locked onto your linked your hands. ''I have been fucking stupid all week. 've been a fucking terrible boyfriend, the worst to ever exist.''

As if to encourage him...to show your boyfriend that his apology was not for nothing, you shuffled around until the last bit of distance between the two of you was closed. You hum, acknowledging his words while leaning your head on his shoulder.

''I didn't think you're cheating or something, …'' Kyoutani immediately assures you. There was no way he would allow you to think that he would accuse you of something like this. ''I had no reason to be jealous, but I was insecure. Let it get the best of me. Despite our promise to communicate, I was sulking. 't was easier. I'll do whatever the fuck you want for you to not give up yet…'' he says, taking his time with every sentence.

With a sigh, you squeeze his hand. ''It will probably take a lot of cuddling and attention from you...'' you say thoughtfully ''...but I forgive you…if you promise to not do this again…'' you murmur, tilting your head upward to press a chaste kiss to his jaw. ''Otherwise, I'll accept Iwaizumi-san's offer to get your thinking process restarted.'' For a moment, your voice had its usual joking edge. But you knew talking out everything was necessary. ''But, in all honesty, 'Tarou....please, never do this again. I am honest. I will not endure this a second time. When you tell me that you need a day or two for yourself then that is totally fine. If you feel yourself giving into whatever insecurity, talk to me about it. I am sure there will be an explanation or a solution but don't leave me in the dark. Don't treat me like that. I love you. Only you and no one else. But the time love can withstand straight-up ignorance by your partner is limited.''

Slowly, your boyfriend nodded, squeezing your hand to tell you that he understood. You would probably cling to him for a while but were sure that he would survive the extra closeness. Not even half a second later, his head leans onto yours cautiously.

''…and try being nicer to Oikawa-san, Tarou, he hasn't done anything to you.'' You add humorously before small giggles started to erupt from your lips. ''Also...Baby…'' you start, being interrupted by choked-up hiccups and giggles. By using your nickname for him, you take away another persistent fear of his. What he does not miss, however, is how you wince in pain before you continue, ''…who helped you put this into words? I mean…I loved it, but…,'' You leave unsaid that words usually are not his strong fort.

Biting back a smile, he frowns, huffs, and puffs…, but the way you are looking up at him, eyes shining with relief and adoration, allows him to admit defeat. He sighs ''…it's how Yahaba said I should say it…'' It usually would be an odd enough statement to make you throw yourself all over him with laugher. As a slight replacement, you squeeze his hand a bit, still shaking with suppressed laughter. ''I promise…that I will talk to you. Can't promise the Shittykawa part.'' Another soft chuckle leaves your lips before you look up at him again. ''I hope you try nonetheless. You should not let Iwaizumi-san hear you calling Oikawa-san that, though, I don't think this would turn out well for you…so...maybe stop this at least.'' Kentarou rolls his eyes at you, but in the end, he nods.

You wait for another second to clearly distinguish the two topics before you continue. ''…Thank you…for coming and finally speaking with me instead of break-'' A hand on your lips muffles your words.

''Don't say these words. I'd never break up with you,'' Kentarou grumbles, a light, uncharacteristic light pink settling on his cheeks. You stick your tongue out, which leads to him taking his hand off of your face with a surprised noise, rather dumbfounded that you had licked his hand. It gives you the chance to lean up and finally press your lips against his. ''I'm not leaving you either,'' you murmur, feeling his lips twitch upwards slightly. You decide to leave the teasing for another day.

Moving back into your previous position was enough of a hassle to hiss in pain. It brought back Kyoutani's awareness of the second problem at hand. ''What did happen to you?'' Kyoutani asks in an attempt to tamper down the excited, happy beating of his heart.

''Oh, this...uh, when I answered your text, I got driven over by a dude on a bicycle,'' you casually drop. It was kind of entertaining to watch his expressions change at an unequaled pace while processing your words. In the end, it settled into something akin to passive-aggressive worry. The way he was immediately fretting over you while cursing and cussing out the bicycle dude was his own way of caring. As you watch him retrieving the food your mother bought, while mumbling about how you're a dumbass for not paying attention to your surroundings, how he'd come over every day until you could go to school again to bring and teach you the stuff you would miss and how he would fucking murder the bicycle idiot if he ever finds out who dared to drive you over, you can't help the smile forming on your lips.

Once again, you are proven that loving him - while occasionally troublesome and demanding - was everything but wrong.

#haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #kyoutani x reader #kyoutani x y/n #kyoutani x you #seijoh x reader #aoba josai x reader #mad dog x reader #eeeeh i hope I didn't forget anything #tw jealousy #cw jealousy #????#y/n lowly humming the you kinda smell like a baka sound and he just </3 #deserved though

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ratonnhhaketon · 3 years

Text

Still Breathing

Read on Ao3 | Next Chapter

Summary: Six months after the defeat of Thanos, the world is still in chaos. The threat of the Flag Smashers combined with the new headstrong Captain America means it's time for Valencia Zicari to help save the world one more time. But, in doing so, she also has to pick up the pieces of a broken relationship.

Warnings: Major TFATWS spoilers, Swearing, Angst, Fluff, Slow-Burn, John Walker (just in general)

A/N: HHH, new fic time! TFATWS has been consuming my brain these past few weeks and it was only a matter of time before I made another oc and wrote for Bucky. I’ve had this in the works since the first episode but I’m super excited to finally be ready to start posting! This fic will be relatively short but I do also plan on doing a prequel fic eventually to further flush out my marvel oc, Valencia Zicari. I apologize that this starts off kinda slow, with just two phone calls at the beginning, but it will pick up a lot in the upcoming chapters. In the meantime if you have any questions or comments about the fic or Val’s story, don’t hesitate to send them my way! Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1 - Your Number On Speed Dial

Bucky’s eyes shot open, his throat closing and lungs gasping for air. He felt the sweat covering his body, the thin blanket tangled between his legs. The cool metal of his dog tags swung against his chest as he sat up, chest heaving as he sucked in breaths and tried to regain his breathing. He looked around his surroundings, slowly calming down as he noticed he was in his apartment.

Another goddamn nightmare.

Realizing he was alone, Bucky instinctively reached up onto the chair next to him for his cellphone. He flipped open the phone, eyes squinting to adjust to the light of the small screen in front of him. He noticed the time, 3:08 am. While he knew that she would more than likely still be up and wouldn’t mind talking, he felt guilty for instinctively reaching out for her this late. Still, he let his hand press accept and after only two rings he heard her familiar voice pick up.

“Hi Buck,” she said with a smile, exhaustion evident in her voice.

“Hi,” he replied with a hoarse voice, sleep still clinging to his vocal chords. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“I could ask you the same question,” she said with a small laugh. “But, yeah. Probably. I’ve been working my ass off trying to get in contact with Fury and nothing is working.”

“Not even through the SHIELD lines?”

She sighed, a hand coming up to rub at her temples. “I’ve tried, but he’s ‘on vacation’ and is only taking messages if they’re life or death.”

“I mean, shouldn’t he be able to make an exception for you? Given, y’know..”

“Unfortunately I lost the ‘you’re my adoptive daughter’ privilege when I decided to grow up and join the Avengers.” Bucky chuckled in response, his nightmare finally starting to fade from the back of his mind. “I’m just.. worried about Wanda. The whole situation still isn’t sitting right with me, especially since any information has been classified and no one at all can access it.”

“Val,” Bucky said quietly, his metal hand coming up to rub against the chain hanging around his neck. “When was the last time you took a break?”

He heard an audible sigh over the phone and a pause before she spoke up. “Not since half of the world disappeared.”

“Well, how about this. Thursday, you finally put all of that aside for a few hours and we can grab lunch. I’ll buy.”

She thought it over for a moment, Bucky’s breath hitching in his throat in the few seconds it took before she spoke up. “Yeah, that sounds nice. We can go to that sushi place you used to take me to.”

“Sounds perfect, doll. I’ll see you then. Now go get some rest.”

“You too, old man.”

~~~~~

Valencia stood in the common room of the compound, a scowl present on her face as she watched the tv. John Walker’s Good Morning America interview was playing at a low volume. She hadn’t even met the man yet and already hated him. Partly because of how he talked about Steve without knowing the first thing about him, and partly because every journalist in the state of New York had been contacting her in an attempt to interview her about the new Captain America. Pulling her eyes away from the screen, she noticed her phone vibrating to announce an incoming call. She answered, a smile tugging at her lips for the first time in the past day. “Hey Bucky.”

“Hi,” he said shortly. She could feel the anger in his voice. “Have you seen the news?”

“Absolutely,” she replied, her scowl returning to her face. “Everyone has been bothering me about it for the past day. I had to tell Pepper that if one more reporter asked to take a statement from me I’d throw someone out of a window.”

“Jeez. Little harsh, don’t ya think?”

“Probably,” she said with a small laugh.

“Hey, have you talked to Sam recently?”

“Yeah, I was just talking to him earlier before you called. He was telling me about having to go to Munich today, something about the Flag Smashers? I don’t know, he didn’t really give me a lot of information.”

“No, that's great. Thanks, doll. See you Thursday.”

“Alright, Buck. See you then.”

~~~~~

Any normal person would be astonished by the amount of trouble one person could get into in the span of 18 hours. But, in terms of being an Avenger, it’s just a normal Wednesday. Especially when it’s Sam and Bucky’s fault. But, Valencia still found a way to be freaking out when Pepper rushed into her room, shoving a phone into her face to announce that Bucky had a warrant out for his arrest. And had subsequently ended up in a Baltimore jail.

In under an hour she had flown down to the city and found the facility Bucky was being held in. She pulled open the door to the jail, eyes quickly scanning the crowd of people before landing on Bucky’s literal partner in crime.

She made a beeline straight for the dark haired man. “You want to explain to me what’s going on here, Sam Wilson?” Eyes narrowed, lips pulled into a tight line.

Upon seeing her he pushed himself out of his chair. “Val! How ya’ been? You been doing okay?”

“Oh cut the shit, Sam. You better have a good explanation for why I found out that Bucky not only had a warrant out for his arrest, but then ended up in a Baltimore jail leaving me to haul ass down here to figure out what in the hell is happening.”

“First, I need you to calm down. Promise me you won’t freak out?”

She glared at him. “Are you-”

“Val,” he said in a stern tone.

She let out a huff before nodding. “Alright, fine. I’m calm.”

“He helped me with that mission in Munich I told you about and then wanted to introduce me to someone in Baltimore. And he may have missed his therapy appointment in the process.”

“He missed-!” Val immediately yelled out, voice louder than anticipated, which drew the attention of the people around them. Sam put an arm around her shoulder and led the two of them over towards an unoccupied side of the room. “Sam, are you serious? He’s been doing so well! He put in so much effort to make sure he made the appointments and you let him go with you?”

“First of all, I told him repeatedly that I didn’t want him coming, but you know how stubborn he is.”

She let out a defeated sigh and dropped her hands to her sides. “So what do we do now?”

“Well lucky for you they’re actually releasing him.”

Before Val could reply she was cut off by the sound of heels clicking before a familiar voice spoke near them. “Sam. I’ve heard a lot about you.” She reached out to shake his hand. “I’m Dr. Raynor. I’m James’s therapist. It’s good to see you again, Valencia.”

Val gave her a smile. “Good to see you too, doc.”

“So nice to meet you. You two already know each other?”

“I took Bucky to the first few of his appointments to make sure that he would, y’know, actually go. But that was before..” she waved a hand in the air, “everything.”

Sam nodded. “Well thank you, Dr. Raynor, for getting him out.”

“Oh, that wasn’t me.”

From across the room a booming voice spoke up, instantly grabbing their attention. “Christina!” The three of them all turned in unison and were met with none other than the new Captain America himself, taking pictures with a bunch of fans. “It’s great to see you again.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You know him?” Sam spoke up with a frustrated sigh.

“Yeah, we did some field ops back in the day.”

“I heard you were working with Bucky, so I thought I’d step in.” Val watched as he approached the group, her arms instinctively crossing over her chest. “Miss Zicari, it’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve been trying to reach out for a formal introduction for several days now.”

“It’s Agent, actually. And unlike you I’ve had a lot of other pressing matters that required my attention.”

“Right. Well, anyway. Bucky’s not gonna be following a strict schedule any longer.”

“What?”

“We haven’t finished our work. Who authorized this?”

“Um,” John used both hands to gesture up towards himself. “He’s too valuable of an asset to have tied up.”

Val’s attention went from John to the sound of a metal door closing behind her. Her head turned towards the sound and she was met with none other than a familiar set of blue eyes side-eyeing the blonde man in front of her. She felt the corner of her mouth turn up in a half-smile as his head turned and saw hers. Almost instantly the token frown he wore at all times faded and turned into his own partial smile. She walked over to him, her arms finding their way around his neck subconsciously. “Hey, Buck,” she breathed as his arms wove around her middle, pulling their bodies flush together.

“Hey to you too,” he said with a small laugh. “Pepper finally let you leave the compound?”

She pulled away to look at him. “Less her letting me leave and more so her immediately getting me a flight and shoving me out the door when she found out you got arrested.”

“Alright lovebirds, break it up.” Dr. Raynor said from behind them. Val’s arms dropped to her side and before she had the chance to correct her, the woman spoke up again. “James, condition of your release, session now.” Bucky let out an audible groan, rolling his eyes slightly, to which Val couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle. “You too, Sam.”

“That’s okay, I’ll be out here with Val.”

“That wasn’t a request.”

She pulled her phone from the pocket of her leather jacket and noticed an incoming call. “Just go, I’ll be outside. I gotta take this anyway.” Val walked outside of the jailhouse, sliding a thumb across the screen to answer the call in the process. She partially paid attention to what Pepper was telling her as the new Captain America walked past her, obviously checking her out with a side-eye as she leaned against the chipped bricks. Her eyes narrowed at him as he turned to steal another glance her way before turning her eyes away and down the opposite side of the road.

“Yeah, he’s okay… no, I don’t know the specifics of how it works out with the pardon... I’ll keep you updated, but it doesn’t look like I’ll be back any time soon. I kinda feel like I’ll be joining the idiots on whatever they plan on doing next… Alright, I will. Keep me updated on the whole Westview situation and tell Morgan to stop stealing the snacks from my room. Oh, haha. Take care, Pepper.”

As she hung up the phone she saw the door next to her swing open with a visibly angry Sam walking out of it. Bucky trudged out a few seconds later, looking angry but more upset than the man in front of him. As the door started to close behind him he saw Val and walked over to her.

“Do you think Steve was wrong about me?” She could tell he was fighting back tears by the way his voice cracked at the end.

Her hands cupped his face. “Bucky, no, absolutely not. Why would you say that?”

He looked away, not able to look her in the eye. After all the nights they spent together, her talking him down from a nightmare, reassuring him and chasing the negative thoughts away, he couldn’t admit that part of him still felt that same way. “It.. doesn’t matter.”

“If it’s making you this upset, then yes it does.”

He let out a huff as her thumb began to lightly rub against the stubble on his cheek. “Sam shouldn’t have given up the shield.”

“I know, Buck, I know. But there’s nothing we can do now, so let’s just try to figure out what’s happening with..” she lifted a hand from his face and used it to make vague gestures around them. “Everything right now.”

The loud siren from a police cruiser halted their conversation, the sound making Val physically jump. She looked towards the source of the sound and scowled. This asshole again. “Gentlemen,” John’s eyes scanned Val’s figure quickly before adding, “and lady. Good to see you again.” Begrudgingly, she followed Sam and Bucky’s lead and walked towards the blonde haired man and his sidekick. “Look, if we divide ourselves we don’t stand a chance, you guys know that.”

Sam crossed his arms over his chest. “So what do you got?”

“Should she be hearing this?” John gestured to Val.

She scoffed. “I’m on board now, so out with it.”

“Alright. Well the leader’s name is Karli Morgenthau. We’ve been targeting civilians that have been helping Karli move from place to place. They geotagged a location, then scrambled the signal. But our satellites have found their symbol popping up in various displaced communities all across Central and Eastern Europe. We think that she's taking the medicine she just stole to one of these camps.”

“Well there’s been hundreds of those put up across the planet since The Blip,” Valencia interjected. “So I guess you’ll have to look real hard.”

“Good thing I have 20/20 vision, huh?” John shot back, annoyance prevalent in his voice.

“Where is she now, Walker? Do you know?” Bucky spoke up, patience quickly being stretched thin.

“No, we don’t know, Bucky,” Walker’s voice rose dramatically. “It’s only a matter of time before we find out.”

Bucky cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowing at the man in front of him. “Things are really tense for you, aren’t they Walker?” Val rested a gentle hand against Bucky’s chest, holding him back as a reminder not to do anything irrational- although she definitely wanted him to.

Sam approached the super soldier, putting a hand in the air to further make him back off. “Take it easy. Look, Walker’s right. It is imperative that we find them and stop them. But you guys have rules of engagement and all kinds of authorizations you have to get. We're free agents. We're more.. flexible. So it wouldn't make sense for us to work with you.”

The trio started to walk off before Walker stood up from the cruiser and spoke. “A word of advice, then.” The three of them turned to look at him once again. “Stay the hell out of my way.”

Knowing that it wasn’t worth it to get a final word in, Sam put a hand on either of their shoulders and pushed them to keep walking away. Once they were a reasonable distance down the street, Val turned to Bucky and noticed he was deep in thought. “What’s on your mind, Buck?” she asked with a hand coming up to rest on his shoulder.

“Well, I know what we have to do. When Isaiah said “my people”...” he trailed off, still staring ahead.

“Oh, don’t take that to heart. That’s not what he meant-” Sam tried to correct him before Bucky cut him off.

“No, he meant HYDRA.” He paused for a moment, feet coming to a stop as he looked between the pair next to him. “HYDRA used to be my people.”

“Bucky,” Val spoke up cautiously.”

Sam scoffed. “Not a chance.”

“Walker doesn’t have any leads.”

“I know where you’re going with this, no.”

“He knows all of HYDRA’s secrets. Don’t you remember Siberia.”

“Oh, you cannot be serious,” Val said as she dragged a tired hand over her face.

“So you’re just gonna sit in a room with this guy?”

Bucky hesitated for a moment, obviously not thinking about his idea that much ahead of time. “Y-yes.”

Val sighed, shaking her head slightly. “Out of all your ideas, this has got to be the dumbest.” She looked at Sam, who shrugged his shoulders and nodded. “Fine. Let’s go see Zemo.”

72 notes · View notes

fukurodaze · 3 years

Text

five stars: prologue - a clear sky

when he meets you in his first year, you fit his definition of annoying - a model student, the façade of perfection. yet, he finds you occupying his mind too often, too soon.

wc: 1.2k warnings: swearing

m.list | next

he’s going to skip.

suna rintarou glances at the clock across the room, foot tapping on the wooden floor of the third year classrooms repeatedly as if in a hurry. except he is in a hurry.

although scouted from the aichi prefecture for his volleyball skills, suna is by no means exempt from his failures in the wondrous subject of physics. but how could anyone blame him - he’s had to get used to the mildly different kansai-ben and make the starting lineup at the volleyball interhighs, not to mention live alone at fifteen.

sometimes he’s thankful for this school, as he’s gotten to play for the summer and spring interhighs even as a first year, but there are also times when the over-glorified “student support program”, also known to suna as the additional hour of bullshit every wednesday from a random third year with a superiority complex, gets up in his schedule.

he is not thankful for this. but he is definitely thankful that whichever senpai he’s been assigned to this semester spares him an extra five minutes to contemplate his purpose in this room.

suna has his arm half-looped around the strap of his backpack, blazer folding at the crease where it stays. slowly, he brings it higher, and eventually slides it onto his shoulder.

“ah, fuck it.”

the boy stands up and brisk walks out the door like it’s life-or-death, his back lowering even more than it usually slouched. his eyes are trained on the door left slightly ajar, and his ears make sure that the only sound comes from the light step of his school shoes against the hardwood floor.

the clock reads 3:15 pm. suna slides the door open.

“hi,” there’s a pause, “class 1-2, suna rintarou?”

shit.

it’s almost like you’ve appeared out of nowhere. you have a calm smile plastered on your face, and by the slow ring of your voice, he can already feel his eyes rolling.

“yes,” suna backs up into the classroom, letting you in. he takes a seat on the frontmost desk in the classroom, watching as you grab a chair to sit across him.

you sit down and rest your elbows on the desk. you have a stack of papers with you, but you set them aside on another table, and he’s convinced this semester to be the one that finally breaks his grade from a 40 to a 37. out of one hundred.

“sorry i’m late,” you shuffle through your bag, “apparently life doesn’t get easier in high school.”

it takes every muscle in suna’s body to not shoot you an eye roll.

you mutter a delighted gasp as you find your phone hidden somewhere inside your bag, and turn back to your assigned ‘student’ to exchange phone numbers in case he ever needed any additional help.

“okay, based on your past papers,” you lean into the desk, a reliable smile on your face, “i guess we can start with the basics? gravity, velocity, all that.”

suna hates how you’re making this session seem like a daycare. “sure.”

“then, suna-san, tell me about volleyball.”

“what?”

three weeks in, and physics might be a lot easier than he’d thought. he’s gotten accustomed to all the vocabulary and formulas, and he thinks he might actually be able to survive this last semester of his first year and keep his chances of going to the may volleyball camp in osaka.

“suna! left!”

the unmistakeable voice of his coach rings loud as a wake up call, reminding him that it’s five pm on a thursday and he’s in the back row of a six-versus-six round with the team.

the ball falls to the floor, and he shouts a short sorry as the opposite side rotates with miya atsumu on the serve. suna’s known him for some time now, and even before he moved to hyogo. he’s heard a lot of him - best setter at the intermiddle nationals, unstoppable with his twin, and a pain in the ass attitude.

to be honest, suna doesn’t think he’s half bad as everyone tells him, although he’d love to throw in a snicker or a funny jab from time to time, for both his and atsumu’s benefit.

atsumu takes a few steps back. the whistle blows, and he throws the ball high up into the air, reaching up and snapping his wrist as he hits the ball. it’s a top spin, and it goes far, up to the back row. suna spots it coming his way, and with a quick step, he sounds, “got it!”. his knees are bent and his arms come together. the ball lands harshly on his wrists, and the words ‘chance ball’ are heard from the other players.

suna’s wrists sting only slightly after having practiced his receives with atsumu’s crazy serves for almost a year now. still, even after familiarising himself with his classmate’s spikes, he thinks that there’s always some bit of luck that goes into receiving them - and strength, because he’s only getting better. it doesn’t help that his jump floaters are three quarters their way to being as nasty as his top spins, either.

he remembers your words; “right! with a top spin serve, the air velocity is faster on the top of the ball rather than on the bottom of the ball, which pushes the ball into a downward motion. we can calculate velocity using the equation v=d/t. so, v for velocity, which equals distance divided by time. for example...”

suna shakes his head as he rotates back into the front row. he almost scoffs out loud, as if scolding himself, in what kind of earth is he living in that has him thinking of physics during volleyball, and why do tutoring sessions with you always seem to go so fast, and how come your voice always sounds so bright, and-

the ball hits the palm of his hand in a clean one-man shutout. the players on his side of the court give him high fives. he tells himself he’ll think about you later.

that night, as suna closes his notebook after another inevitably short-lived round of reviewing for finals, he finds himself zoning out as numbers on worksheets are replaced with other thoughts. suna thinks about volleyball, which now makes him think of physics, which makes him think of you. and seeing as he thinks about volleyball about seventy percent of the time, he ends up thinking about you seventy percent of the time, too.

maybe only fifty percent of the time. but that’s still half of his time having you in the back of his mind while he answers equations, coordinates blocks, and eats with his friends.

he doesn’t know much about you, but he’s found out that you’re one year his senpai, a member of the cheerleading team, a class representative for the student council, and, after a few stares at old bulletin boards, he knows that you’re ranked within the top ten of your grade.

(not that you had told him yourself, since all you talk about with him is physics, but it’s natural to get curious of one’s tutor, right? definitely. of course. always.)

suna wonders if it’s better to fail physics and keep having to spend an hour with you every week or to improve significantly and hear your direct praise.

“this is so stupid,” suna tells himself as he slides under his covers just before midnight.

someone in the house has a little bit of a crush.

(suna lives alone.)

send an ask to be added to the taglist!

#haikyuu x reader #suna x reader #hq x reader #suna fluff #suna rintarou #haikyuu suna #suna x you #suna x y/n #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fluff #suna scenarios #haikyuu scenarios

101 notes · View notes

world-of-aus · 4 years

Text

Behind the Screen - (Part 7)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count:

Warnings: 18+

Author’s Note: Is anyone else confused on there days, because i literally thought today was Monday and i thought i was on schedule only to realize it was actually wednesday! So sorry for the delay, i’m debating moving around the day updates for Behind the Screen to Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday & Family Matter’s will be Monday, Wednesday and i’m also aiming for Fridays, im thinking if i make this change it may help me feel caught up! With finishin up our year, and being a fulltime mom updates are a little hard, but im trying! As always tag-list are still open for both BTS & FM, so if you’d like to be added just send me a message or ask. Thank you all so much for reading and enjoying the work i put out!

Part 6 / SERIES MASTERLIST

“How bad is it?” Bucky groaned head resting in your battered hands.

“I’m pretty sure it’s broken, I don’t think I can set this,” you sighed gnawing on your bottom lip in worry as you assessed his injured nose, “Buck I really think we should get you to med bay, why didn’t you go there first before coming here, I'm not a medical professional.” You muttered applying more pressure to the soaked cotton hanging from his nostrils.

“take my nose between your fingers will you,” he grunted nasally.

Bucky was having trouble breathing, through his more than likely broken bloodied nose, the hot air from his mouth fanning over the palms of your hands where they rested on his cheek, “buck seriously this is broken, let me get you down to m-”

His fingers looped into the tops of your leggings, pulling you into the slot between his tense thighs, “stop with the med bay, I'm not going and you're not taking me,” he wheezed, “set it for me, you do it to Steve all the time,” he murmured.

You stared at the bloodied man before you in bewilderment, “Buck that was once and it was his shoulder, we’re talking about your nose here,” you voiced exasperatedly, “what if I break it more than you’ve already managed to do!”

“Sweetheart,” he grunted, the word going straight through you, “will you just straighten it up, I can’t fucking breathe.”

You knew you shouldn’t, but you also knew how stubborn Bucky could be when he was this badly messed up after a mission, and man was his brooding showing through, and where there was brooding his stubbornness was sure to be as well. There was just simply no arguing, you would be here longer than needed if you didn’t just do what he was asking.

“count of three?” you questioned.

He nodded his head, his fingers holding onto your waist as he pulled you in a little closer, “alright,” you took a breath, “one, two, th-” your thumbs pressed into the sides of his noise, fingers pushing on his nose, a crack sounding below your fingers as you pushed it back into place.

“Son of a bitch!” he growled, “what the fuck doll, I said three!” he grunted his fingers pressing harder into your skin sure to leave a mark. His head fell to your shoulder, his breathing labored, “Buck had I counted to three you probably would have moved away at the last second.”

“I wouldn’t have, should have just done it myself,” he muttered.

You couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped past your lips, “m’sorry buck, but if you had gone to med bay like Steve had advised when you guys landed instead of catching me in the hallway maybe they would have been gentler with you,”

Bucky lifted his head up from your shoulder then, “maybe I wanted you to be the one to tend to me, have you not read those types of fics of mine?” he questioned a teasing tone to his voice.

Laughter fell from your lips, “I'm regretting ever letting you find out, I mean how long has it been now and you still tease me about it?”

A low chuckle fell from Bucky’s lips as his eyes looked over your face, you felt so exposed in that moment, “Wouldn’t say I'm teasing you in that way doll, but I am teasing you in another way,” he replied his voice dropping to a whisper.

You cocked your head, eyebrow raised, “Buck” you warn, “don’t you star-”

His hands are cupping your face then, thumb running over your lips silencing you. He’s staring at you in a way that has your heart stalling in your chest, your knees going weak. He’s leaning forward then, bringing you in closer, his breath ghosting over your parted lips.

His name falls from your lips in a silent whisper, his lips close the distance between the two of you. The kiss is slow, un-rushed like the two of you had time. His tongue runs along your bottom lip, coaxing you to let him in. Your fingers are curling, looking for something to bury themselves in, you push further into his open legs your hands sliding up his chest where they weave their way into his long locks. You’re pushed against his warm broad chest, lips magnetically drawn to his as your tongues continue to dance, delicate moans spilling from your lips into his.

The need for air becomes too much in the wake of your heated kiss as you draw your head back, a gasp falling from your lips as you suck in a lung full of air. Bucky nuzzles your neck then, placing delicate kisses along your awaiting skin. His hands have found their way to your hips, fingers gliding along the hem of your shirt slipping under to feel the soft skin that lays there. Your hands still weaved in his hair, are pulling his head back to you, your lips connecting with his again. The kiss is not like the first, this one is fiery, demanding, your senses having been clouded over with want, a need building up within.

He speaks your name into your lips, you heart fluttering wildly in your chest from the sound, never had your name sounded so wonderful falling from someone’s lips as they did his. Your leaning in again when three sharp knocks to your door have you both jumping apart from one another,

“y/n,” Steve's voice calls out, your head falls against the wall, a silent groan falling from your lips.

“is Bucky still with you, he’s needed for a debriefing,” his muffled voice adds through your closed door.

From where your leaning against the wall, your eyes look over to Bucky his face unreadable, and you wonder if Steve has managed to do it yet again. A gentle sigh leaves your lips as you push off from the wall, “Just finished Steve,” you lied not daring to look in Bucky’s direction, “I’ll send him right out to you,”

No words are spoken as you move around Bucky’s unmoving form from where he sits on your bathroom vanity. You can feel his eyes on you as you pick up the bloodied cotton and wrappers thrown around him. You want to say something, but your words are failing you, all that you can think to speak is “Steve’s waiting Buck, you should go before he comes looking for you again,” you murmured continuing to clean the already clean counter. The sigh that leaves Bucky’s lips has you looking up at him, your breath catches in your throat at the storm on Bucky’s face. Not wanting to stick around to be caught in it, you did the only thing you could think to do in that moment, you walked away to busy yourself and your racing thoughts.

Bucky wants to reach out to you the second he sees your face falter, he wants to stop you, make you stay, tell Steve to fuck off, but he knows you, he knows what you’re doing inside that head of yours. So he lets you go, let’s you walk away from him, even though he wants nothing more than to pull you back into his arms. Walking out your door to go to the debriefing with Steve was the last thing that he wanted to do.

He shouldn’t be thinking about you while Steve babbles away of the disarray of today’s mission, but he can’t get you out of his mind. Bucky’s mind is solely on you, on how you look, feel, everything about you, and he’ll be damned if he gets an earful from Steve on not being focused, which it does.

Bucky can’t get out of the meeting room quick enough, waiting for everyone else to leave the room before he does so as to not throw them off when they see him run off in the other direction. He’s quick to walk the halls, feet pounding down the slick tile like a man on a mission.

He stops in front of the door, his mind and heart racing wondering if he should just turn around, tuck tail, and go back to his room. He doesn’t want to though, he wants to put himself out there, he wants to put himself in arms reach for you, he wants to do these things with you, he wants you. He doesn’t allow himself to over think as he turns the doorknob, pushing your door open.

Bucky freezes door open midway as he spots you standing in the middle of the room a single white towel wrapped around your wet skinned form. Your eyes are wide, finger clutching the towel tightly, his name is falling from your lips but he doesn’t quiet register it in the haze of his mind. He’s moving forward then, the door swinging closed behind him, as his feet carry him to you.

“Bucky,” you whisper in question stumbling back slightly from the intensity of his gaze. He’s watching you, the rise and fall of your chest, you shouldn’t have this effect on him, but you do. He draws closer to you, his hand rising up to push your damp hair from your face, his fingers curling behind your head, keeping you there. The smell of your body wash lingers on your skin, the scent of coffee and coconut tickling his nose. He’s pushed against you now, his body turning yours as he backs you up into your bed. The back of your legs hit the bed first, your form stumbling, Bucky's hands are gripping the towel as it falls from your body, your back hitting your sheets.

Your cheeks are burning as you look up at him like a deer caught in head lights, your hands scrambling for your sheets to cover your naked form, but Bucky’s voice stops you.

“buck what are you-” he silences you with a finger to his lips. His stare alone causes a shiver to roll up your spine, his gaze predatory.

“buck” you try again.

There’s too many things going on through his mind, he needs to calm himself before he does something he might regret, “fuck” he whispers his eyes trailing your naked form, you’re so beautiful he thinks as he eyes rake over your curves.

“Buck,” you repeat, your eyes looking at him with concern, he can see your restraint in leaning up to check on him, the caution. He's swooping down then, his body fitting over yours, pushing you deeper into the mattress below you. He's caught you off guard, an audible gasping falling from your lips, his head is ducking down, tongue trailing your clavicle, drawing a low moan from you. He braces himself with his left hand, his thighs slotting with yours as his right hand finds its way to your face, thumb tracing along the plump of your lower lip.

“Bucky,” you sigh, his name falling from your lips in a breathy drawn out plea.

“You’re so beautiful sweetheart,” he murmurs into your skin, his nose running along the underside of your chin, leaving a trail of open wet mouthed kisses, till his lips are finding yours. He lets himself relish in the sounds he pulls from you, the way you feel under him, saving it for later when he’s away from you, something that he can think back to. When he pulls his lips from yours, he can feel the rise and fall of your chest, your plump lips parted slightly, your warm breath fanning across his face.

He really can’t bring himself to look away from you, he had always thought you were beautiful, but having him underneath you like he did now, it was almost to much, almost.

“You know,” he murmurs “when I first went through the tag on my own after I had left your room that first night, I didn’t know what to think, but the more I read through some of these stories the writers wrote, I began to imagine myself doing these things, and do you want to know who I imagined myself doing them with?” he questions. Your nodding then, your breath hitching as you feel his right hand descend down the curves of your body, “you” he whispers, words ghosting over your lips, “I’ve imagined you in every possible scenario that was drawn out for me,” he murmurs nipping at your chin.

Your writhing; back arching as you feel his hand drift to where you need him, “I’ve pictured you on your knees for me, on your back legs spread, arched, as your hands drift down this beautiful body, finger dipping into your warm heat,” the statement is accompanied with his fingers dipping into the slick of you warmth, your mouth falling open in a gasp. “I have pictured you every time, and you never disappoint,” he grunts index finger circling your entrance before he’s dipping in your back arches head thrown back at the pleasure that surges through you.

Your making those noises Bucky loves to hear spill from your lips, the sweetest sounds bubbling from your throat. He’s adding a second finger, curling them in a beckoning motion, grinning against your skin, when he feels how your body reacts. He pushes in deeper, fingers curling quicker, “fuck” you breath out, and Bucky's grinning again knowing he’s found that sweet spot within you.

He loves to see you like this, loves to see how your body reacts to his. His lips are making their way up your face to find your lips, only for you to be seeking out his as well, the action causing you to jostle his nose slightly a low hiss falling from his lips. “Buck your nose,” you gasp breathily, “you really should have gone to med bay.” Bucky can’t help but chuckle, “you really want me to go to the med bay?” he questions his fingers curling again, causing your head to fall back into the sheets.

“you know what would be better than med bay,” he murmurs kissing along your skin, “to see you come apart underneath me,” he whispers, teeth nipping at your skin, “you think you can do that for me angel, you think you could cum for me,” he questions huskily thumb swirling around your clit.

Your mouth falls open in a breathy moan, back arching as he builds you up, fingers thrusting faster, deeper, thumb swirling quicker, harder working you up to that immense pleasure only he can bring you. He feels the moment you fall over the edge, your pussy clenching around his fingers, a loud moan falling from your lips. He continues to thrust his fingers into you, only for you to reach down and take a hold of his hand halting his movements. He glances up at you through his lashes, a grin pulling at his lips as he pulls his finger from your wet slick.

You're watching through hooded eyes as he brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean. A shiver rolls through your body at the action, you don’t get the chance to utter the fuck that wants to escape your mouth with Bucky’s lips crashing onto yours. Bucky licks into your mouth, tongue tangling with yours, letting you taste yourself, a low moan falling from your lips.

“Bucky,” you moan tearing your spit slick lips from his, “please,” you plead.

And Bucky swears he’s never heard sweeter words than those that spill from your mouth, “what do you want sweetheart, tell me what you want,” he replies in a low whisper, his fingers trailing over your lips. He watches in awe as your tongue peeks out, licking the digit, your lips closing over it as you suck it into your mouth.

“Fuck look at you,” a moan falls from your lips, “the things I want to do to you,” he grunts, “I want to fuck you, fuck you so hard you won’t be able to leave this bed, be buried so deep inside of you that you’ll never forget what it feels like, would you like that, do you want me to fuck you?”

“Yes please,” you moan, “please fuck me Bucky,” you beg.

Bucky growls low in his throat, his lips capturing yours in another heated kiss of teeth and tongue. You have no idea what you do to him, how riled up you get him. Your innocent to the reactions he has because of you, though he thinks you know with how hard he is in his tactical gear, his cock straining against the confines of his pants.

Needing to feel your skin against his he slides off of you, a whine leaving your lips as your fingers reach out for him. You watch him peel his shirt off tossing it to the side, his hands going for his jeans next, but your hands are stopping him, pushing his hands away as you work the button and zipper off. Your hands are hooking into the waistband of his jeans and boxers pulling them down swiftly, a low moan falls from your lips as his cock springs free from the right confines of his pants.

He’s kicking them off the rest of the way, his body covering yours once more. Your perfect he thinks, so fucking perfect, and you’re with him like this, in a way he never could have imagined having you. His hand is sliding down the side of your body where it hooks underneath your leg pulling till it’s wrapped around his waist his hips falling into place between your legs.

Bucky’s mind is hazy with pleasure, as he feels every inch of you against his, like you were for him. “Fuck sweetheart,” he murmurs with a roll of his hips, “you’re so fucking wet, did I get you this wet?” He questions his cock nudging your clit.

A moan falls from your lips, “use your words sweetheart, did I make you this wet?” He grunts thrusting his lips shallowly

“God yes,” you whine needing to feel more, “please Buck,”

“Please what, tell me what you want,” he whispers lips ghosting just over yours.

“Please fuck me, please I need to feel you,” you begged back arching, your chest pressing into his.

Bucky wastes no time as he lines himself up with your slick entrance, his hips thrusting forward, teeth gritting as your heat welcomes him. He stops when he’s fully sheathed, breath coming out labored, as you flutter around him, clenching. “Fuck sweetheart,” he grits, “feel so good around me,” he murmurs.

He pulls back to only the tip, before surging forward, the thrust jostling you beneath him, earning him a throaty groan of pleasure from you, “Fuck, yes,” you hiss, “please don’t stop,” you moan.

Bucky grins into your neck, nipping at your sweat slick skin, his thrusts are slow, hard, and deep, a buildup that has you writhing and whining just for him. Your fingers are winding through Buckys hair, tugging the harder his thrusts get. Your pulling his hair bringing his face to yours, your lips meeting his in a breathy kiss.

“Fuck right there, right fucking there,” you moan into his mouth when he changes the angle on you hitting that pleasurable spot within you.

Bucky’s left-hand catches under your right thigh, lifting till it sits high up on his hip, it changes the angle further, a broken gasp falls from your lips as it drives him in deeper, “fuck it feels so good,” you groan, you feel so good,” you sob clenching around him.

Bucky wants to reiterate your exact words but with the way your warm wet heat is clenching around his aching cock, he can only manage a low moan of your name. Your it for him he thinks, the way you take him, the pleasure you bring him and he knows he can bring you; he doesn’t think he could ever go tired of this.

“Shit,” he breathes his hips slowing slightly, he wants to drag you out a little longer, wants to rebuild that pleasure. He moves again fucking up into the wet heat of your cunt, drawing low moans from you, your breath hitching as your pleasure builds up. Bucky feels spurred on as he continues to fuck into you, bringing you back to that sweet edge, he can tell your close by the way your pussy clenches around him, and he knows the thing to send you right over.

His left hand is leaving your thigh to slide in between your bodies, delving in the warmth of your heat, index finger seeking out that sweet little bundle of nerves.

“Come on baby,” he murmurs finger picking up speed around your aching clit, “i know you want to cum for me, are you going to cum for me?” he questions finger swiping a little quicker. Its enough to send your over the edge, as your body tenses, thighs shaking, low moans of pleasure ripping from your mouth.

Fuck Bucky thinks, if that isn’t the most beautiful sound he has ever heard.

His name is falling from your lips in a low chant, the pleasure is too much, you need him to cum, you want to feel him cum. And he does, he cums with his lips pressed to yours a low groan of pleasure falling from his lips and into yours as he loses the rhythm, his body thrumming with pleasure.

Your both laying there bodies lax, Bucky’s head nestled into your neck, your fingers absentmindedly running up and down his back drawing the occasional shiver from him. Its quiet, but its comfortable, you’re the first to speak up, “Bucky where did this come from you,” you murmured quietly.

He peeked his head up looking up at you, “you complaining,” he teased earning a laugh and a swat to the arm from you.

“No i’m not complaining but,” you paused mulling over your words, “it was just unexpected, I thought you might have been thrown off with Steve again,” your murmured looking away from him.

Bucky didn’t like that you did that, that you felt you needed to hide from him, “i told you I wanted to do these things with you, and I meant it,” he spoke taking your chin in his hand so your eyes would meet his again.

“so, is this part of the new agreement?” you questioned not really knowing what this new agreement had entailed since you and Bucky had never actually sat and talked about it.

“You could say that, there’s things I want to try and like I said, I only want to try them with you, if you don’t want to do this you can always tell me to just go and I won’t hold an of this against you,” though those were the words that had fallen from his lips, his mind was saying something entirely different. Bucky could only hope you would agree to this new agreement, because while he felt he couldn’t have you the way he really wanted if he could have you like this, well this would be enough.

Part 8

Behind The Screen Tag-List: @ladifreakingda @georgialeighc13 @racewife2004 @multy-fandom-lover @otvlanga @sailorstupidsblog @n1ghtsh4d3-67 @wantingtobekorra @gazzan-a @clarinette07 @amanda-the-fangirl @im-sure-its-fine @sagechanoafterdark @heyywestman @runaway-escape @ilovesupersoldiers @unlistedpond @rayofdawnworld @badassbaker @spookyanairwin @fandom-basurero @krabby-tentacles @sassy-pelican @lizlepuffs @jaywolf840 @xoasalxo

#behind the screen #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel au #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction

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jadeile-writes · 4 years

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Fanfic Progress Update 68

Hello, everyone! It’s Saturday, so let’s do this again. Stay tuned to the end of this post for a spoiler-y glimpse into the next chapter of Adventure gone Mini AND now also the next Radiohusk drabble I’ll post sometime next week!

Current WIPs:

Adventure gone Mini

Fandom: Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild / The Minish Cap

Summary: Sidon is given his very own Sheikah Slate, the first replica Purah has managed to make, and sets out to travel with Link with the intention of registering warp points for convenient travel in the future. However, when a malfunction shrinks them down to the size of bugs, and they meet little people called the Minish, they have to change their plans from “fun adventuring” to “getting out of this mess”. Not that those two have to exclude one another. Link/Sidon.

Progress: Chapter 39 is the current latest chapter and was posted on 27th of May. Chapter 40 is done and will be posted on 17th of June.

I post a new chapter every three weeks on Wednesdays. These updates always include a sneak-peek for the next chapter, slowly getting longer over the three weeks waiting period.

—–

That month of the year

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Summary: Every year, for a single month, the Radio Demon gets… emotional. His antlers are in velvet and he’s pumped full of hormones that make him behave quite unlike himself: suddenly, everywhere he looks, instead of seeing fellow demons all he sees are helpless little fawns that nobody is taking a proper care of! Solution? Adopt them.

Husk, Niffty, Camille, Honey, and the rest of the older Fawns put up with their Mom/Dad’s nonsense every year, but this time there’s a new, rotten apple in their midst and they have to protect Alastor from this crook. Without Alastor knowing about it. As Husk likes to put it: “This is fucking bullshit. …I mean fudgy nonsense.”

(Crack taken seriously. Gen)

Progress: The first two chapters are finished. The third chapter is more than halfway done. I want to have a few chapters written before posting anything, because this is hella slow to write. No progress.

This fic is co-authored by Maximillian!

—–

Hah! Our afterlife is the most hilarious bushwa, dearest

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Summary: This is not a stand-alone story! This is a oneshot/drabble collection in the universe of “Shit, the Radio Demon is a part of my afterlife”. Read the main story before bothering with this one.

I decided to give my readers a chance to throw Radiohusk prompts at me, and had the Afterlife-verse as an option to set the stories in. Everyone liked that, so this fic is now a thing. Enjoy the extra mischief from these two dorks!

Progress: Chapter 18 is the current latest chapter and was posted on 5th of June. Chapter 19 has a couple of paragraphs done, and the scheduled posting date is 19th of June. A sneak-peek will be posted on Thursday.

I have 18 prompts left.

This fic receives a new chapter every Friday.

—–

Secret drabbles and ficlets!

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Summary: I’ve occasionally written completely random Radiohusk fics and shared them with a bunch of friends without posting them on AO3 or here. I’d like to rectify that and start posting them here at random for everyone to read. I won’t be posting them on AO3 because I don’t want to, so keeping an eye on this blog is even more rewarding than before for a while.

Progress: I have two separate drabbles at the moment as well as one that isn’t Radiohusk, and a few nearly finished ones that I’ll probably get done sooner or later. I’ll post the finished ones once a week until I run out, on whatever day I feel like doing it. Basically, keep your eyes open ;)

Here’s a bonus secret: I have a couple of things I won’t be posting here - one that is unfinished and not likely to be finished at all (and which I would post on AO3 if I did finish it) and one that is slightly risque (by my very very ace standards, lol) that I don’t want reblogged around. I’ll eventually post them on the Radiohusk Discord server, if you want to see them.

—–

Other WIPs I’m not currently working on but intend to get back to someday:

PoE Drabbles (Pillars of Eternity)

DC Drabbles (Justice League)

Diaphanous Relations (Forgotten Realms, R.A. Salvatore’s books)

Experiment in Romance (Hazbin Hotel)

—–

That’s it for the WIPs! Here are the promised sneak-peeks into Adventure gone Mini and the random Hazbin drabble (Note: the text may end up slightly different in the fic itself due to more editing happening before publishing). Enjoy!

Mini

Link and Sidon were man-handled through a hallway between two mushrooms into another part of the building. Whereas the first room had been vast and grand looking – and thus perfect to play tag in – the next place had a more… sacred temple kind of atmosphere. There were ornate pillars all around the place, mystical yet peaceful looking paintings hanging from the walls, and an altar against one wall. There was also a small fountain in the middle of the room.

Before the fountain stood an adult Minish dressed in the same robes as the children were. They turned around to look when the rather noisy group entered the room.

"Oh, visitors?" they asked, rather unnecessarily in Link's opinion.

"Yes! We seized them at the door!" said the kid who had spoken before – or at least Link assumed them to be the same kid; not like he could tell them apart other than by size at best. "We don't know what they want!"

—–

Random drabble

Husk breathed heavily as he carried the limp form of Alastor around the corner and out of the combat zone. His chest hurt from his broken ribs being strained by the pressure of a body being held tight against them, but he didn't care. He just didn't fucking care. "Hold on just a little longer", he pleaded, and almost collapsed onto the ground when he finally reached the relative safety of the empty alley. He sunk down to his knees and gingerly laid the bloodied, broken form of Alastor onto the dirty ground to inspect his injuries so he could try to fix him up… ...Only to discover that Alastor was no longer breathing. No. Shit! No!

—–

That’s it this time. See you next Saturday!

AO3 FFnet Purple Crayon Ko-fi Radiohusk Discord

#Fanfic progress update

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nicolewrites · 5 years

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someone to carry me home

Stranger Things 3. What a ride. So here's to hijacked motivation and my eternal sadness at how my favourite ST couple were treated this season.

Rating: T Genre: Friendship and Romance Characters: [Max Mayfield and Lucas Sinclair], Dustin, Eleven, Mike, Will Words: 7,342

"Max Mayfield likes a very specific list of things: rockstars, skateboards, old fashioned arcades, California, and sarcasm. Notably, people do not rank high on her list of positive things. Neither does Indiana and yet here she is." Lucas and Max and a memorable first year.

AO3 | FFN

Max Mayfield likes a very specific list of things: rockstars, skateboards, old fashioned arcades, California, and sarcasm. Notably, people do not rank high on her list of positive things. Neither does Indiana and yet here she is.

Purdue is a good school. Purdue is, really, a great school, and she should be pleased to be here, but as she drags her suitcase behind her into the elevator, all she can think of is the acceptance letter to UCLA that she had pinned above her desk. Max sighs and jams the button for the ninth floor.

UCLA would have been great, but Max couldn’t stay in California. She had had to leave the city, leave the state, and get as far away as possible to somewhere that her mother and her stepfather and Billy would never even consider visiting. So she picked Purdue and now she is here in Indiana for god knows why.

Thankfully her room isn’t too far from the elevator, and she manages to lug all her stuff in after only two trips. There is a little cloud with her name scribbled in it on her door and she quickly rips it down. She glances up and down the hallway, but no one seems to be out of their room, so she slips into her room and closes the door.

She doesn’t have a roommate–thank god–and her dorm room is small and pretty old, but it’s better than the pictures she had seen. She drops her suitcase to the ground with a heavy thud and dumps her backpack on the bare mattress of the bed. She sits on the mattress and exhales slowly.

It took entirely too long for her eighteenth birthday to come so that her mother was comfortable with letting her leave, but she was out. She was away from her stepdad and away from Billy and she, if it could be helped, was never going back. She had moved to Indiana for school so she figured she would throw herself into school for four years, get a job, and move out of Indiana, even further away from California.

There is a loud thud from the room to her right which is followed by a loud, feminine giggle. Max flops back on her bed and sighs. She’s pretty sure the people who room on that side of her are boys, so that means at least one of them probably has a girlfriend. The walls in dorms are notoriously thin and now she can look forward to sex noises on top of everything else.

This is why Max doesn’t like people.

It’s a week and a half into classes before Max finally meets one of her neighbours. Surprisingly, the room has been pretty quiet, other than the occasional chatter, but she has heard a girl’s voice here and there. She’s just stepping into the elevator to head back to her room after a particularly exhausting chemistry lecture when a guy darts forward and holds the elevator door open so he can slip inside. He smiles at her and reaches to press a button, but freezes when he sees that she’s already pushed the one for the ninth floor.

“You’re on nine, too?” he asks.

She glances at him and takes in his appearance. He’s dark-skinned with sharp eyes and a whip-crack smile and Max almost lets herself think that he’s cute before she nods to answer his question.

He shuffles his feet and his smile wavers with his nerves for a second. “Cool, what room are you?”

“982,” she answers because she might as well humour him, if at least for the elevator ride.

His brow rises. “I’m in 984, so we must be right next to each other.”

Max immediately quashes any thoughts of his good looks because if this is her neighbour, it’s definitely his girlfriend that she’s heard through the wall. “Yeah,” she replies idly. She glances at the elevator display as the number six shifts into a seven. Still two floors to go.

“I don’t think I ever saw your nameplate,” he continues and Max exhales because she really just wants this stupid cute neighbour to shut up. “What’s your name?”

“Max,” she replies shortly. She doesn’t bother asking for his name, because then she has a name to match a face, which is something she really doesn’t want.

Of course, because he’s that type of guy, he gives one anyways. “I’m Lucas. Engineering student,” he says. He holds out a hand and Max knows that it would be the ultimate asshole move not to shake it, so she does.

“Chemistry,” she offers in return.

Lucas grins. “Wicked, chem’s a tough one.”

Max shrugs. “As long as I’m not writing essays.”

“Ha, yeah you’re talking to an engineer there, so I agree.”

His wit makes her crack a smile right as the elevator dings and the doors open onto their floor. Max steps out and Lucas follows her, keeping pace as they walk towards their rooms. Max stops in front of her room and digs in her pocket for her room key. Lucas hovers, a little awkwardly, just to her right in front of his own door.

“My roommate, some friends from high school and I are going out for dinner tonight, if you were interested in joining us at all.”

Max bites her lip. “I would, but I’ve got a lab in two days that I really need to prepare for. Thanks anyways though.”

Lucas shrugs and slides a hand into one of his pockets. “I didn’t think there was any harm in asking.”

Max turns the key in her lock and opens her door. She steals one last look at the cute neighbour. “No, not really.” He gives her a lop-sided smile as she slips inside her room.

She drops her bag to the floor and sighs deeply. She’s here for school, not to get distracted by cute boys, even if they live next door. Besides, he’s attractive enough that the girlfriend next door must be his so it doesn’t matter anyway.

Because, of course, it turns out that Max and her cute neighbour run the same schedule on Tuesdays and Thursdays. They both get back from class or dinner or the library at 7:30 sharp and take the elevator to the ninth floor together.

Max tries really hard not to care, but Lucas is cute and funny and genuinely interesting to talk to. Plus, when she calls him ‘Stalker’ his smile gets a little lopsided and her heart does flips when he calls her ‘Mad Max’, so frankly, they fall into an easy routine of teasing and what might be–though Max isn’t hopeful–flirting.

Whoever arrives in the lobby of the residence building pushes the elevator button first, but they always get on together. Lucas asks her about class and labs and she asks him about Indiana and if there is anything interesting out in the middle of nowhere both at school and where he’s from.

Max doesn’t make many other friends, a few from her classes, but it’s nice to be able to say that she and Lucas are definitely beyond acquaintances now. Plus, he’s still cute, so she can’t really complain. She’s a little confused as to why she and Lucas appear to be meeting up so often when she still hasn’t met his roommate or the girlfriend.

It’s mid-October and the first Midwestern winter chills are blowing in on the day that she meets the girlfriend. Max jerks her jean jacket tightly around her as she scurries into the building lobby, huffing out cold air. It’s a Wednesday, which means no Lucas, so she heads right for the elevators.

There’s another girl waiting for the elevators, her hands behind her back as she rocks onto her toes. Max avoids eye contact as she normally does with all people, but she can’t help but notice that the girl doesn’t look familiar at all, something unusual considering Max recognizes most people who live in the building now. Not to mention that with curly, shoulder-length brown hair and a delicate face, the girl is really, really pretty.

The elevators ding and Max slips inside first, quickly punching the button for her floor. The girl follows, and hesitates, exactly like Lucas had done back in September.

A needle of doubt pricks in Max’s stomach and the selfish part of her brain chants, Don’t be his girlfriend, don’t be his girlfriend.

The girl snaps suddenly, pointing at Max. “Oh! You’re Max! Lucas mentioned you!”

Max raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I’m Max.”

The girl smiled. “Jane Hopper, but everyone just calls me El.” She stuck a hand out and Max awkwardly shook it.

Any hopes she had been harbouring of the pretty girl not being Lucas’s girlfriend shrivel and die. Max forces a smile and adjusts her backpack. She glances at the elevator monitor: four floors left.

“You’re the girlfriend then?”

El laughs. “Wow, I’m already getting that name. I guess I am.”

Max smirks a little. “I’m glad the walls are thicker than the residence reviews said they would be.”

Her quip finally triggers a response in the girl as her cheeks flare red instantly as she giggles nervously. Max waves her off.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she adds as an afterthought.

El smiles. For a blissful moment, there is silence before it is broken again. “Hey, I know Lucas has tried to invite you out with our friends before, but we’re going out tonight again and it would be super cool if you joined us.”

Max blinks in surprise. Lucas inviting her out was one thing because they were neighbours and sort of friends, but his girlfriend doing the same? Max casts her a look, suddenly feeling shy. She isn’t used to having female friends so the eagerness in El’s voice is new.

El smiles brightly again and Max finds herself nodding before she can really think. “Ok, sure,” she replied.

“Cool! Why don’t you drop your stuff and get whatever you need from your room and then just knock on the boys' door when you’re ready?”

The doors slide open on the ninth floor and Max’s time to backpedal evaporates. “Sounds good,” she forces out.

El smiles and the two girls walk side by side to the neighbouring rooms. El pauses to glance at Max’s door before turning and knocking on Lucas’s. “See you shortly!”

Max quickly slips inside her room so she doesn’t have to see Lucas greet his girlfriend. She tosses her school bag onto her dresser and falls face-first onto her bed, groaning. At the very least this event would force her to meet more people, she thinks despondently. She pushes herself up and glances at her mirror.

She’s wearing a vintage t-shirt emblazoned with The Eagles logo paired with ripped black jeans and her trusty jean jacket. It’s a look she is proud of and she sees no reason to change. She grabs her purse and keys, runs her fingers through her curly red hair and slides out the door.

It takes her two full seconds of standing in the hallway to gather the courage to knock, but she finally does, rapping her knuckles against the wood three times.

The door swings open almost immediately and Max comes face to face with a grinning Lucas. He’s wearing a plain blue t-shirt and grey jeans, but he makes it look effortlessly attractive and Max quashes down the internal girliness which was scoping him out.

“Max, hey! El said you were going to join us tonight!” Lucas’s smile is easy-going and familiar and Max relaxes just a little. “Come on in,” he says, opening the door wider.

She steps in and takes in the room. It’s bigger than her room, with two desks, two closets, and two beds. Both sides are covered with various geek memorabilia. As she steps in, her gaze is drawn to El and the boy next to her that she presumes to be Lucas’s roommate.

El and the roommate are sitting on the bed that she presumes to be not-Lucas’s and the guy has an arm slung around El’s shoulders as they chat easily. El’s eyes are bright and happy as she looks up at him. It only takes a second for everything to click in Max’s mind.

El isn’t Lucas’s girlfriend. She is Lucas’s roommate’s girlfriend. The petty, jealous part of her instantly disappears and Max is relieved to suddenly be able to breathe again.

“Max, this is El, as you know, and my roommate, Mike, her boyfriend,” Lucas introduces as he walks up behind her suddenly.

Mike grins at her. He was cute too, but certainly not her type. He’s all lank with a messy mop of dark hair and a light spattering of freckles. “Nice to finally meet you, neighbour. I’ve heard all about you from Lucas, but it’s funny we’ve never met.”

Max laughs, her chest suddenly lighter. “Nice to meet you too, Mike.”

There’s a short, almost awkward pause, before there’s another knock at the door. Lucas spins and heads to open it. Max glances back and sees him embrace whoever is at the door. Lucas steps aside and a guy with the wildest, curliest hair Max has ever seen steps in, grinning broadly.

“You must be Max! It’s a pleasure to meet you,” the new guy says. He steps forward and sticks out a hand.

Max shakes it and takes in his appearance. He’s wearing jeans and a rumpled Back to the Future shirt with a green and yellow baseball cap. “Max Mayfield, the, apparently,” she pauses, giving Lucas a sly look, “infamous neighbour.”

Lucas just gives her a smile that makes her stomach flip. The new guy sizes her up.

“I’m Dustin, and I’m definitely the coolest out of any of these guys, so don’t worry about a thing around me.”

Lucas, Mike, and El all laugh at this statement and Max feels a genuine smile lift her lips too. “Good to know,” she replies teasingly. Friends, her brain thinks giddily, I think these people want to actually be my friends.

As it turns out, Dustin is the craziest and everyone in the party loves to argue. After Dustin’s arrival, the group had set out for a retro diner nearby where they met up with Will and Joe. Will was apparently a part of the original friend group from small-town Indiana, while Joe, Will’s boyfriend, is a new addition that attends the high-scale Arts Institution that Will studies at in Lafayette.

They had crammed together into one of those oddly circular booths with El and Mike and Will and Joe smushing together. Max slides in next to El and Lucas follows her in, while Dustin sits on Joe’s other side. The group is incredibly welcoming, telling funny stories and light-hearted jokes while catching up on school and social lives and stories from home.

They eat greasy burgers and fries and Max laughs so hard her stomach hurts. Joe’s arm tucks around Will and Mike’s does the same around El. Dustin doesn’t bat an eye at any of it and neither does Lucas, so Max just assumes that the behaviour is absolutely normal for the group. At some point through the meal, Lucas’s arm drapes along the top of the booth behind Max and she almost desperately wishes for it to drop down against her shoulder.

Still, she feels optimistic about things and ribs Lucas in time with the other friends and joins him in teasing Dustin or Mike about one thing or another. Joe and Will are the first to head out since they have to head across town back to their campus and El and Mike leave next, heading, apparently to El’s dorm. Dustin shrugs bids Max and Lucas goodbye, heading back to his own place.

Lucas and her walk back together, a companionable silence settling between them.

“Your friends are cool,” Max admits as they finally reach the entrance to their building.

Lucas grins. “I’ll add you to our group chat. I think everyone really likes you and you should definitely hang out with us again. Plus, I think El will love not being the only girl around.”

Max smiles faintly as she reaches out to punch the elevator button. Her hand gets there a split second before Lucas’s and his finger jabs onto hers and she recoils sharply. Lucas blinks in surprise and they make awkward eye contact before they both burst out laughing.

“Wow, that was stupid,” he chuckles.

Max grins. “Yes, it was, Stalker.”

The elevator doors open and they step in together. Lucas pushes the button for nine and the doors slide shut. There’s an awkward pause before he looks at her.

“Hey, do you want to come over and watch a movie? I have a whole collection of stupid retro films I think you’d like.”

Max finds herself smiling stupidly. “Only if we get to watch in my room. I’m almost 100 percent certain my bed will be more comfortable.”

Lucas laughs and Max’s stomach flips again. “Whatever helps you sleep better.”

She jabs her elbow against his ribs, smirking. “Literally.”

He snorts. “That one was bad, Mad Max.”

She shrugs. “You set me up for it.”

The one thing Max had not expected from befriending the Party, as they called themselves, was the sheer amount of nerdiness that came with them. Sure, she is studying Chemistry, but nothing prepared her for Engineer-Lucas, Biochemist-Dustin, Physicist-Mike, and Art Major-Will in full on geek mode. Sure, seeing Lucas and Mike’s room might have warned her, but when someone knocks on her door at 7pm on a random Friday night, she isn’t expecting El and Joe to ask her to save them.

Apparently, Friday nights are exclusively reserved for the Party’s D&D sessions. Max has no issues with the game itself, just the fact that it routinely means shouting from next door as she tries to study. It does mean, however, that she gets to hang out with El and Joe a lot and make fun of their boyfriends and friends.

The one night she had dared sit in on a session out of morbid curiosity had been hilarious and actually almost interesting enough to sit in on a second, but the instant she had been asked by Lucas what she had thought, El had shaken her head frantically, telling Max that it was a terrible idea.

So Friday’s become El-Max-Joe nights while the party plays D&D next door, and Saturday nights become Lucas-Max nights as they watch stupid 80s and 90s movies or really terrible horror movies. Dustin joins them occasionally, but it’s mostly just Lucas and Max. Max loves Saturdays, but some part of her wedged deep inside refuses to let her ask Lucas if he thinks that their movie nights are kind of like date nights.

The party makes plans to go home for Thanksgiving and Max ignores the calls from her mother insisting that she come home and she prepares to stay at school and be lonely. She isn’t expecting Lucas to stare at her like she’s lost her head when she says she isn’t going home. She also definitely isn’t expecting him to invite her back to small-town Hawkins to celebrate with his family. Not sure what else to do, she accepts, and the grin he gives her makes it worth it.

The drive back to Hawkins is three hours and her, Dustin, and Lucas all take turns DJing and singing along terribly to loud music. The three of them carpool in Lucas’s car and he drives the whole way since Lucas mentions something about Dustin being a terrible driver. Max just laughs and calls shotgun, delegating Dustin to the backseat.

Hawkins is a criminally small town, but from the stories she has heard from the Party, it looks exactly like she expects. Lucas points out the Sheriff’s office where El’s dad works and the general store where Will’s mom works and the tiny post office where Mike’s sister and Will’s brother both work part-time.

They drop Dustin off first, and all the nervousness that Max had been suppressing returns full-force as she realizes she is about to spend an entire weekend with Lucas and his family. Lucas doesn’t pick up on it until he pulls up outside a quaint two-story house and he looks over at her.

“Jesus, Max, you’re white as a sheet. Are you okay?” His hand finds hers where it sits limply on the console.

The touch is reassuring and gentle and Max exhales slowly. “Yeah, I guess I’m just grateful to be here. You really didn’t have to do this.”

Lucas shakes his head. “Hey, my family is legendary for Thanksgiving celebrations. I want you to be here, and I know my family will love you.”

His confidence bolsters her own and she nods finally. “Okay, yeah, let’s do this.”

Lucas’s mom is incredibly nice. His dad’s a little rougher, but still warm and welcoming and Max understands where Lucas’s kindness has come from. His family home is cozy and generous and a little loud, but it feels like a home. Lucas and his sister Erica bicker relentlessly, but the smiles that play on the faces of both parents let Max realize that this is exceedingly normal.

Compared to the brother-sister relationship she knows, and the relationship she has seen between her mother and step-father, everything that she sees at the Sinclair’s is a huge breath of fresh air. Their adoration and love for each other shine through even in the barbed insults that get traded by the siblings. Still, Max loves Erica and her sass and Lucas’s parents for being so incredibly kind to her.

They set her up in the guest bedroom and she sinks onto the mattress slowly, exhaling. It’s almost overwhelming, the amount of love that is in this house. And it hurts to know that this is the kind of thing she missed out on back in California. She doesn’t realize how long she just sits there numbly until Lucas is knocking on the doorframe.

He looks a bit concerned at her expression and he wanders in and sits next to her. “Earth to Max? Are you okay?”

Max shakes herself. “Yeah, yeah I’m great, actually. It’s just nice to be in a place where Thanksgiving is a happy thing.” She bites her tongue after she speaks and expects a prying question in response, but as always, Lucas tactfully avoids making her uncomfortable.

“My mom likes you already. Be careful, or you might find yourself invited back for Christmas and Easter.” He says it like it’s something terrible and Max laughs weakly. Spending the holidays with people who are pleasant and don’t throw fists and scalding words at every opportunity has been her dream since her mother married Neil.

Max leans her head against Lucas’s shoulder. He tenses for a moment before he relaxes, resting his head atop hers. “Thanks, Lucas,” she mumbles softly.

Thanksgiving is a respite, a light in her darkness, and she feeds off of the feeling of family that it left her long past November and into December as Lucas drops her off at the airport to fly home to California for Christmas. They’re wearing matching grey sweaters with ‘Purdue’ on them in gold and Max gives him a last smile before she slips out of his car.

She’s grabbing her suitcase from his trunk when he walks up beside her. He places it on the ground and pulls her into a sudden hug. She squeezes him back and has to force back tears as he pulls away. She’s going to miss him and the whole party over the break, but it’s only just two weeks. A part of her wants to just jump back into the car and go to his place with him where his mother’s smile and cooking and his father’s jokes and stories and Erica’s stubborn sass will have her laughing till her sides hurt, but she has to go home eventually.

Christmas sucks. Dinner is burnt and dry and tense and by the time Max gets on a flight back to school in the beginning of January, her Purdue sweater is hiding several bruises and a healing cigarette burn on her shoulders and arms. She was decidedly not coming home for summer, and not everyone in the house had been pleased with that news.

Mike and El pick her up from the airport because Lucas isn’t back from Hawkins yet, but Max is still incredibly glad to see the couple. They chat on and on about their break and how much fun they had and how they got the whole group together except her and how obviously she was missed. Max smiles and sinks into the seat, relishing the fact that she was back in Indiana and that Billy and Neil were in California and it would be a long while before she would see them again.

In early March, the whole party finds themselves at a house party halfway between Will and Joe’s art school, and El’s dorm on the east end of campus. The party is loud. Some popular rap song is blaring through the house, physically shaking it, but Max is buzzed enough that she’s still having a good time. She and El had just finished destroying Mike and Dustin in a game of pong and now she was standing with Lucas and Dustin to one side of the room after Mike and El had disappeared to dance.

Dustin drains the last of his drink and looks in both Lucas and Max’s cups. They’re both nearly done too so Dustin taps the bottoms of them to encourage them to finish. Max tips hers back, swallowing the last of the cheap beer and passes it to Dustin with a sly grin. Lucas follows her lead.

“I shall return fair maiden and sir,” Dustin says jokingly as he takes all three cups and vanishes to the back of the house, leaving Max and Lucas alone.

Lucas opens his mouth to say something, but as he does, the rap song abruptly changes to an AC/DC song that Max doesn’t completely hate and she grins.

“Wanna dance, Stalker?”

Lucas gives her a lopsided smile. “Sure thing, Mad Max.”

She grabs his hand and tugs him to the edge of the dance floor. Her hands land on his shoulders as she shimmies to the pounding beat, singing along with the rest of the party. Lucas’s hands find her waist and they move together. He doesn’t sing, but Max notices his eyes don’t leave her face at all and he looks happy. The dance makes her deliriously happy: she’s drunk and dancing with her friend/neighbour/definitely crush and it’s a good night.

Everything is going great right up until the moment she feels a pair of firm hands fall deliberately onto her ass. Max wheels around, hands flying up to shove the guy molesting her, but they meet a solid chest and the guy doesn’t budge.

“What the hell?” she demands angrily. “Keep your hands to yourself, asshole.”

The guy smirks and looks her up and down, eyes lingering on the deep scoop of her shirt. “Hey, an ass like this should be dancing with a guy who actually knows how to please a girl,” he drawls casually. His hands mimic an hourglass shape in front of him and Max is barely able to restrain from punching him right then and there.

She can feel Lucas go rigid with fury behind her and his voice is like glass when he speaks. “Back off, Troy.”

Troy, the douche, smirks and eyes Lucas. “What, Sinclair, scared she’s gonna slip out with a real man?”

Max scoffs loudly. “Unlikely.”

Troy’s smug look flickers. “Come on, babe, let me give you a real ride.” He reaches for her as if to grab her hips, and Lucas steps up quickly, snagging Troy’s hand at the wrist.

“Touch her again,” he says coldly. Troy’s eyebrow lifts. “What are you gonna do about it, Sinclair?” His other hand drifts forward and Max steps back instinctively.

Just as she steps back, Lucas steps around her and decks Troy clean in the face. The douche recoils sharply, swearing. Lucas is rigid in front of her and Troy manages to get a clean swing back at him, catching the side of his face. Lucas jerks away from the punch and Troy goes for his stomach. His defensive body positioning saves him from the brunt of the blow, but Max can still hear the sick thus it makes against his stomach. She winces and Lucas crumples back from the hit. She reaches to steady him, and his hands grip onto her arms tightly as he swears darkly.

Max fixes Troy with a wicked glare and is glad to see that Lucas’s shot got his nose which is bleeding and looks a little crooked. Just as it looks like the douche is about to go after Lucas again, his arm is caught by Dustin on the backswing. Max has never been so glad to see the rest of their friends in her entire life. Dustin and Mike are at the front, twin images of anger and El, Will, and Joe stand just behind them.

“What going on?” Mike asks, his voice sharp as he glares at Troy. “Don’t you have high schoolers to prey on or something?”

Dustin’s drops Troy’s arm and the bully jerks away, quickly noticing he’s outnumbered. He gives Max and Lucas one last dark look. “Crazy bitch isn’t even worth my time,” Troy growls before he disappears into the crowd.

Max tenses at the insult, but she can feel Lucas’s body go rigid with offence and she squeezes his arms to ground him. “He’s a dick, Lucas, it’s fine.”

Lucas stands up straight, glaring after where he disappeared to. “It’s not fine. Troy’s been harassing us since we were kids and he probably wouldn’t have even gone after you if he hadn’t seen us together.”

El shakes her head. “It’s not your fault Lucas, we all know what Troy is like.” Lucas scowls and turns his head slightly away from Max.

Will frowns suddenly. “Jesus, Lucas, how hard did he hit you?”

Max’s head snaps in Will’s direction and she sees that he and the rest of the party are admiring the split skin and developing mark on the top part of Lucas’s cheekbone. She frowns. “Anyone know where we can get some ice for that?”

Joe clears his throat. “Will and I were actually gonna head back to my suite and I know we have some in our freezer. You guys are welcome to crash there if you’d like.” Max nods. She doesn’t much feel like crossing campus in the dark at night since Joe’s apartment-style suite is much closer.

“You’re okay with this many people?”

“Mike and I can go to my dorm. It’s close by,” El says quickly.

“And I already promised Suzie I’d walk her home, so I’ll crash there,” Dustin adds.

Will shrugs. “We can figure out a makeshift mattress for one of you and the other can take the couch.”

Lucas eyes Max. “You good with that?”

Max shrugs, giving him a small smirk. “No problems here, Stalker. We do need to get some ice on that though.”

With plans set and the party winding down, Max follows Joe and Will out of the house, Lucas on her heels. The couple leads the way, Joe’s arm dropped over Will’s shoulders as they chat quietly, leaving Max with Lucas who has barely spoken to her since decking Troy.

The walk back to Joe’s is only a few minutes. Joe’s actual roommate, he informs them, barely lived in the suite, hence why there would be no issues. Will almost immediately disappears to Joe’s bedroom, looking like he was going to collapse. Joe points out the freezer and then follows his boyfriend, also looking drained.

Max and Lucas are left standing in the kitchen alone. The light down the hall clicks off, confirming that there was going to be no funny business from the boys because they were tired. Max then immediately turns to the freezer, looking for an ice pack.

Contrary to Joe’s statement, there is actually no ice the freezer; however, there is a bag of frozen peas which she passes to Lucas. Lucas accepts it and moves to sit on the couch in the suite. He stares blankly at the coffee table as he holds the peas to his face and Max frowns.

“Thank you, Lucas, for sticking up for me. You really didn’t need to punch him though,” she says after a long, awkward moment.

Lucas’s warm eyes flick to her. He shrugs, keeping the frozen veggie’s attaches to his cheekbone. “I kind of did. I’ve wanted to punch Troy since like third grade and the guy is a total asshole to girls.”

Max chuckles darkly and walks out of the kitchen. “No argument from me there.”

Lucas lets out a deep sigh. “I hate guys like that. Those who take advantage of girls or look down on people because they’re girls or they’re gay or–“ he cuts himself off suddenly, his gaze dark.

Max licks her lips. “Black?” she offers quietly. Lucas nods.

He sighs again. “Hey, it’s better than it used to be.”

She drops onto the couch next to him. “And thank god for that.” She pauses. “I’m sorry people still treat you like that.”

“As long as you never do, then you have nothing to apologize for.” Billy’s face and her stepfather’s face flare across her memory and the rage they’d displayed when they’d met Angela, Max’s only person of colour friend in California. She swallows and looks at Lucas again. She gets an eye full of frozen veggies covering dark skin and a curious look in return.

“Let me see it,” she says, reaching up to pull the peas away. As she does she sees the raised edges of where the skin split and the slightly puffy, shiny skin where he was hit. His dark complexion is helpful in hiding the bruising, but the purple shading is already filling in, so the shiner is going to be good and obvious anyway.

Max laughs wryly. “God, if you were at least white like the rest of us losers I could help you cover that, but I don’t think ivory shade foundation is going to be much of a help. Not even my neutralizes will help you.”

Lucas blinks slowly at her, confusion muddling his expression. “Max, why do you know so much about covering bruises?”

She tenses. “Skateboarding,” she replies instinctively, but the look on Lucas’s face tells her that he doesn’t buy it for a minute.

“Does this,” he pauses, his tone even and cautious, “have anything to do with why you didn’t go home for Thanksgiving and why you don’t talk about Christmas break?”

Max doesn’t reply, dropping her gaze to the floor. She doesn’t want his pity and shame floods through her hotly. She doesn’t want him to look at her like some wounded animal. Lucas sighs when she doesn’t reply and she feels his arm drape over her shoulders as he pulls her into a sideways hug.

“Jesus Christ, Max, I don’t even know what to say.”

“Just don’t say anything then,” she says shortly. She leans into him, letting her head rest against his collarbone. “Don’t say anything.”

He adjusts his arms around her, but says nothing.

Max wakes up warm in the morning and her left arm is completely numb. She jerks it, trying to get feeling back before she blinks harshly and realizes her nose is pressed into the red-checked pattern of the shirt Lucas had been wearing the night prior. She realizes they’re awkwardly positioned on the too-small couch, wrapped together with their legs entangled and that’s why she can’t feel her arm.

She elbows him. “Lucas,” she hisses. “Wake up, Stalker.”

He stirs beneath her and blinks half-asleep eyes at her when he comes to. “Hey Mad Max, what’s up?”

She squirms against him and slides her arm free, but the action nearly sends her toppling off the couch, and Lucas squeezes her against his chest to steady her. She blushes at the close proximity and intentionally draws away. She slides off the couch and stretches her arms above her head. She hears him yawn and sit up behind her.

It’s not like they haven’t fallen asleep together on Saturdays during their movie nights, but they’ve never woken up quite as entangled as that before. It felt personal and incredibly domestic, and as much as she tries to deny it, it felt comforting and nice.

She reaches out to check her phone and her heart sinks when she sees that Billy has sent her several texts.

Remember what I said over the break.

No unsavoury types or I swear they’ll never know what hit them.

Billy’s threats are so thinly veiled they might as well as punched her in the face. He’s stalked her on Facebook before and he’s clearly seen the pictures of Lucas and her grinning and laughing at the arcade. Panic seizes Max’s chest and she almost forgets how to breathe. For a moment, it doesn’t matter that Billy is across the entire country because all she can see is Troy the douche decking Lucas in the face for having the audacity to defend Max.

She must look like she’s been tased or something because Lucas coughs lightly. “Max, are you alright?”

“Fine,” she says shortly. Her voice is flat and unconvincing, but her heart is racing and fear holds her tightly. “I’ve got somewhere to be though, so I have to run. Thank Will and Joe for me, okay?” She doesn’t turn to face him–she can’t–as she heads for the door and jerks on her shoes and coat.

“Hey! Max, wait!” Lucas calls after her, stumbling tiredly off the couch.

She doesn’t pause, just turns and bolts out the door.

Max is only back in her room for fifteen minutes before someone’s knocking on it. She hopes it’s El or Dustin or Mike or even the stupid floor RA, but the knocking persists when she ignores it and her stomach sinks.

“Max!” Lucas calls. “Come on, open the door!”

He keeps up the incessant knocking for five whole minutes before Max loses her patience. She swings the door open suddenly and Lucas has to physically stop himself before he smacks her in the face trying to knock. He seems taken aback that she actually opened the door.

He’s still wearing the same rumpled clothes from the night before and the gleaming bruise on his face is painfully obvious in the cheap lighting of the hallway. Concern is written all over his expression and Max has to stop herself from slamming the door in his face.

“Hey, can we talk about what the hell that was at Joe’s?” he asks once he seems certain that she’s not going to slam the door.

Max exhales slowly. “I had a call to make,” she lies through her teeth.

Lucas frowns. “I didn’t push you last night Max, so don’t lie to me.”

She exhales slowly, closing her eyes. “I don’t think we can be friends anymore,” she says shortly.

Lucas blows his breath out through his nose, looking confused and a little annoyed. “What the hell, Max? We’ve been friends for seven months and you just want to cut me off?” She must hesitate long enough that Lucas knows something is really wrong because he doesn’t let her reply. “This is obviously not coming from you, so if I did something last night or this morning that was out of line, tell me because I don’t have a clue! I thought everything was going great and last night I might have actually freaking kissed you before the whole Troy thing happened, but apparently, I read that situation all wrong too!” He sounds more frustrated than angry and when she looks at him, the emotions are written all over his face.

She loves Lucas. She loves how he wears his heart on his sleeve. She loves his quirky jokes and biting sarcasm that matches her own. She loves his dedication to his friends and his no-shit-taken personality. He’s funny and clever and a whole lot better than someone as fucked up as she is deserves.

“No,” she says weakly. “You don’t get to say that,” she insists.

Lucas glares at her, but there’s no malice behind it. “And why not? Because it’s true? Why are you so afraid to admit that we’ve had something for long enough that everyone seems to know it except us?”

Max’s heart breaks. “Because you can’t like me! Because I’m all kinds of fucked up! Because I’ll never be able to bring you over to my house to visit or to meet my family because they’d beat the shit out of both of us because they’re horrible people! Because your family showed me more kindness in one weekend than I can remember in my entire childhood and your friends have made this place more home to me than the state I lived my entire goddamn life. Because I don’t know how to protect you when people attack you for being who you are or how to thank someone for sticking up for me like you did. Because I don’t know how to love you without hurting you because everyone who ever fucking loves me gets hurt!”

The words are sharp and biting and feel unfamiliar on her tongue, but they’re undeniably the truth and the confession is written there, plain for him to see. Lucas is silent, eyes blown wide, and clearly taken aback. Max counts to ten silently in her head and when he doesn’t move, she turns to close the door.

It’s almost all the way closed when his hand shoots out to grab it. He forces it back open and steps into her room. Instead of pity and fear like she had expected, his gaze is warm and affectionate. His hands grip her upper arms and she forces herself to meet his gaze.

“Mad Max, I don’t care about any of that. Your family sounds like a bunch of assholes that I don’t ever need to concern myself with. I’m not afraid to be with you because you think you’re broken because I look at you and I just see this girl who’s witty and smart and beautiful and I think, ‘Damn she’s something else’, because I like you, Max. The Party loves you, my family loved you, and you’re not just some passing thing in my life. I would take a million punches from Troy for you and I would spend a million lifetimes trying to show you how loved you are. Because you are, Max, because I love you.”

Lucas’s confession is honest and open and something in Max’s chest breaks and everything comes to a stop. She rocks forwards and kisses him hard. His hands slide up to cup her face as he kisses her back fiercely. Billy and Neil and Troy and every other stupid, racist, sexist, asshole she’s ever met leave her brain as she wraps her arms around Lucas and kisses him until she can’t breathe because he is real and he loves her.

She pulls back, gasping, but Lucas keeps their bodies in the same space, breathing hard. Max presses her forehead to his. Her heart pounds and she swears that she can hear his beating too.

It’s not perfect and it’s not easy, but she loves him. She loves him more than rockstars, and skateboards, and old fashioned arcades, and California, and sarcasm. She loves their friends and Indiana and every stupid movie he’s ever played for her.

And he loves her. And it’s enough.

84 notes · View notes

catsitta · 4 years

Text

SPOILERS: Updated Handle with Care Timeline

It's been a while, but since we just entered Arc 5, I thought it appropriate to update the timeline for Handle With Care. Spoilers ahead for those who haven't read/read to this point.

Our dates will be based around Chapter One, which will be marked as 00. So all events will happen after or before 00 (i.e, chapter one). +1 day would mean 1 day AFTER 00, and -1 day would mean one day BEFORE 00. Hope this is clear!

Also, to help make things even more clear, I'm also going to include the KNOWN ages of characters thus far:

Red - 19

Sans - 28

Papyrus - 6

Edge - 6

Frisk - 14/15

Chara - 14/15

Undyne - 14/15 (Same age as Chara/Frisk)

Kris - 17/18 (Senior in highschool)

Asriel - 18+ (college age, not yet clarified)

Now onto the timeline!

-28 years [Sans is born]

-(~aprx) 18 - 22 years [Asriel is born]

-(~aprx) 22 years [Sans meets Grillby, whom he later becomes friends with.]

-19 years [Red is born]

-18 years [Sans starts babysitting for Toriel]

-(~aprx) 17 - 18 years [Kris is born]

-(~aprx) 14/15 years [Frisk and Chara are born. Undyne is born.]

-12 years [Sans earnes his first masters degree at 16]

-~6 years [Frisk, Chara and Kris loop time to get a perfect ending, eventually Sans and Webdings figure out something is wrong.]

-6 years [Edge is born. Papyrus is born. Toriel adopts Frisk, Chara and Kris after some time as a foster parent.]

~6 years [Sans and Gaster have a fight, Sans sequesters himself away with Paps. Frisk finds him, promises that the LOADS are over, and they form a tenative truce.]

-3 years [Red and Edge are orphaned when their old man jumps into the powerplant where he works (CORE). Red drops out of school at 16 to work.]

-1 year - Ch. 5 [Red earns his GED at 18. A bullet breaks a window in Red and Edge's apartment. Red starts job hunting.]

- ~10 weeks [JUNE, Sans kisses Grillby and is rejected (Ref. Ch.159)]

00 - Ch. 1 - 4, 6-9 [Weekend, Red has a new job as a mechanic and a new apartment. It's move in day. He meets Sans and Papyrus]

+1 day - Ch. 10 - 15 [Weekday, Edge's first day of school and Red's first day of work. Red meets Frisk.]

+2 days - Ch. 16 - 19 [Weekday, Edge throws a fit, Red and Sans learn about each other's low HP]

+1 week - Ch. 20 - 22 [Weekend, Red goes to the park, Sans is selling hotdogs and invites Red and Edge to a sleepover for Papyrus]

+1 week - Ch. 23 - 33 [Weekend, Sleepover, Edge makes his first bullets, Sans and Red fall asleep on the couch, Red confesses and kisses Sans. No answer is given why Sans turns him down.]

+(~aprx) 9 - 12 days - Ch.34 [Weekday - Red's coworker notices his distracted behavior]

+ ~2 weeks - Ch. 36 - 37 [Weekday, Red is late back from work and sees Sans in a labcoat and glasses. Sans and Red show they are bad at keeping distance and fall asleep on the couch.]

+ ~2 weeks - Ch. 38 - 40 [Weekday, Sans and Red wake up, Red and Sans have an awkward exchange and agree that they are still friends, and the boys get into a fight at school]

+ ~3 weeks - Ch. 41 - 46 [Weekend, Red seeks Sans' help with a despondent Edge, goes into Sans' room and discovers a box of photos and newspaper clippings.]

+ ~3 Weeks - Ch. 47 [Weekend, Red cheers up Edge with some rowdy roughhousing, that also doubles as magic practice.]

+ ~1 Month - Ch. 48 [Weekday, Frisk passes along an invite from her mom for Red and Edge to a picnic with her family and Sans.]

+ ~1 Month - Ch. 49 - 57 [Weekend, Lunch with Toriel and the kids. Red meets Chara and Undyne, and learns more about Sans than before.]

+ ~5 Weeks - Ch. 58 - 71 [Weekday, Sans gets drunk and wakes Red up. More bonding and discoveries. Sans and Red take a day off from work so Sans can sleep. There are confessions. A joking proposal. And Sans kisses Red.]

+ ~6 weeks - Ch. 72 - 73 [Weekend, Sans gives Red a puzzle, inside is a promise ring. Puzzle giving is how monsters initiate courtship.],/p>

+ ~6 weeks - Ch. 74 - 81 [Weekday, Red gives Sans a puzzle in return (Midweek), Sans asks Red on a date. That Friday they go stargazing and Red sees Sans' Soul glow for the first time.]

+ ~8 weeks - Ch. 82 [Weekend, Red and Sans have been offical 2 weeks, and watch the boys spar in the park. Paps uses a big word they aren't sure where he learned it from.]

+ ~8 weeks - Ch. 83 - 85 [Weekday, Red goes to the CORE and asks Sans on a date. Sans seems nervous but accepts.]

+ ~10 weeks - Ch. 85 [Red and Sans have been dating one month.]

+ ~10 weeks - Ch. 86 [Weekday, Sans rolls up to Red's work with his hotdog cart.]

+ ~11 weeks - Ch. 87 - 95 [Weekday, Red has his "very bad day", goes to pick up Edge and sees that Paps has started a fire on the stove. He scolds everyone involved, has a fight with Sans over discipline when he arrives home, ends up having a heart-to-heart with Undyne, and learns that Sans has some unspoken anxities around how he raises Papyrus.]

+ ~12 weeks - Ch. 96 [Sans and Red overcome their fight.]

+ ~12 weeks - Ch. 97 - 105 [Weekday, Red visits Sans at work, meets Gaster, that meeting goes TERRIBLY. They have a disagreement, and Red realizes why Sans is so passive when it comes to Papyrus' discipline. Sans reveals he has more secrets he isn't quite ready to divulge.]

+ ~13 weeks - Ch. 96 - 116 [Thursday (NOV 24), Traditional Fall Dinner at the Dreemurs. Red meets the whole Dreemur Clan. Gaster comes for dinner. It is revealed he has visited Papyrus when Sans wasn't home when Papyrus returns a book to him. Gaster slips up when talking to Red, revealing that only Sans is his son.]

+ ~13-14 weeks - Ch. 117 - 122 [Sunday (NOV 27), Red asks Sans about Paps and it is revealed Paps is Sans' son. He dodges any further questions on how. Red loses his temper and goes home to think things over.]

+ ~14 weeks - Ch. 123 [Monday (NOV 28), Red goes to apologize and Sans is missing.]

+ ~15 weeks - Ch. 123 - 136 [Monday (DEC 5), Red seeks out Gaster and asks him to send a message to Sans. They come to form an 'understanding'. Red realizes there are still many questions to answer. On the way home, Red runs into Frisk, who tells an unbelievable tale of timetravel and leaves Red feeling threatened. Sans comes home at last. The both of them feel emotionally worn. Apologies are made. Edge is angry.]

+ ~15 weeks - Ch. 137 - 138 [Tuesday (DEC 6), Gaster brings Papyrus to Red's apartment now that Sans has come home (Sans and Papyrus had been staying with him the prior week). A quiet day of respite for everyone.]

+ ~15 weeks - Ch. 139 - 142 [Friday (DEC 8), Edge has a meltdown, declaring that he hates Sans for making Red unhappy. There is a heart-to-heart.]

+ ~16 weeks - Ch. 143 - 144 [Weekend (DEC 9-10), Red starts having nightmares.]

+ ~16 weeks - Ch. 145 [Weekday, Sans brings Red coffee at work]

+ ~16 weeks - Ch. 146 - 153 [Weekday, Puzzle Fair! A judge is a fan of Sans, assumes the boys are his and Red's, and Edge wins a trophy.]

+ ~16 weeks - Ch. 154 [Weekday, Sans asks Red on a date]

+ ~17 weeks - Ch. 155 - 161 [Saturday (DEC 17), Sans takes Red to Grillby's for lunch. Red learns they've been friends for most of Sans' life, that Grillby is a widower, and that Sans kissed him back in June (and was rejected).

+ ~17 weeks - Ch. 161 - 165 [Monday (DEC 19), Chara babysits the boys. Red doesn't approve. They have a chat which leaves Red stressed and unsettled.

+ ~17 weeks - Ch. 166 - 167 [Tuesday (DEC 20), Red's dreams worsen. Frisk approaches him. Red brushes her off.]

+ ~17 weeks - Ch. 168 - 175 [Tuesday - Wednesday (DEC 20 - 21), Red has a nightmare bad enough to wake Edge. Edge can't wake Red. Edge gets Sans who wakes up Red. They divulge to each other about their dreams. Sans finally says "I love you." They stay home from work and have a quiet day with the boys. There is a promise made for there to be no more secrets come Gyftmas.

+ ~17 weeks - Ch. 176 - 177 [Thursday - Friday (DEC 22 - 23), A new sleeping routine begins, as does winter vacation for the boys. Red realizes he doesn't have a Gyftmas present for Sans. (Yes, right before Gyftmas Eve!)

DEC 24 - Gyftmas Eve/Red's B-DAY

DEC 25 - GYFTMAS

#handle with care #text post #timeline #spoilers

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fantasyuta · 5 years

Text

thankful

[ jaehyun x reader: fluff! ]

[ wc: 2159 ]

a/n: happy (early) thanksgiving if you live in the united states! i personally don’t really celebrate thanksgiving (oops sorry) but i know a lot of my friends do, and ofc there’s many things i’m grateful for! if you have school/work/etc off, i hope you enjoy your break :D sorry about the quality of this, i really wanted to post it asap so it was a lil rushed

you wrestle the key out the lock of your door and sigh as you kick off your heels and slam the door behind you. you had begun a job at a different branch of your company this week after being promoted, and despite the higher pay and the gratitude you felt towards your boss for the promotion, commute was awful. the new job is much farther than your previous one, and because the time you get off work coincides with rush hour, the freeways, bus routes, and subways are all clogged with people heading home.

today had been particularly exhausting; you had stood for almost an hour on the bus ride home, giving your seat to an elderly woman. the only thing that keeps you going was the fact that next thursday is thanksgiving, which means that your generous company is giving you wednesday through friday off for holiday. plus, it’s finally friday today, and you plan on sleeping in for at least twelve hours over the weekend.

you toss your bag onto the kitchen counter and throw yourself onto the sofa. you still haven’t made plans for thanksgiving yet; your mom called you earlier to see if you could come back home for thanksgiving this year. maybe now would be a good time to look into airfare to find tickets to fly back home.

suddenly, you hear a thud from your bedroom, and you jolt up immediately. did a burglar get into the house? you wonder as you cautiously approach the bedroom. the door is closed, but the light shining through the crack between the door and the floor signify that the lights inside are on. you take a deep breath as your hand reaches for the door knob.

as you slowly open the door to the illuminated bedroom, you notice two things. the first is the trail of red rose petals on the floor leading from the doorway onto the bed, where even more rose petals are scattered. the second is the figure sitting on your bed, rubbing his head and muttering to himself.

your eyes widen and you let out a screech as you recognize the figure standing up from your bed, and you rush at your boyfriend, jaehyun, as he lets out a husky laugh and wraps you in a hug.

you can’t help but start to tear up as you hug jaehyun tightly, pulling you both down to the bed, as it’s been a little over half a year since you’d last seen him in person.

you and jaehyun grew up as childhood friends and neighbors until high school, when he started training to become an idol. jaehyun had always been handsome, but high school was when you finally saw jaehyun as a real boy-becoming-a-man instead of the kid who would build sand castles with you and adorn them with tiny shells at the beach, or the neighbor who would eat strawberry jam sandwiches with you on the steps leading up to your apartment building. and even though the two of you started drifting apart as he prepared for his debut, you found yourself slowly falling in love with the boy.

you can still vividly recall the day you confessed to jaehyun: you’d waited on the steps in front of your apartment building on february 14, both valentine’s day and jaehyun’s birthday, for him to return home from training. you knew jaehyun would be moving out in a matter of weeks to the dorm for trainees, so you saw this as a last ditch effort to confess your true feelings.

you’d waited for what felt like hours, tightly gripping your bouquet of sunflowers (roses had been sold out, bought by others celebrating their love), despite the sun setting and the moon beginning to rise. you sat on the steps wrapped in a thick blanket and fuzzy scarf, and as the night grew deeper, you started to doze off while the bright petals of the sunflowers began to frost over from the cold.

you’d awoken to jaehyun’s head on your shoulder, the boy hiding under your blanket and breath visible in white puffs in the cold air. you’d nudged him awake, and when his eyes blinked open, you’d held out the frozen flowers and stared at your grimy shoes instead of into his eyes, cheeks rosy and lips blue. ‘uh, hey, will you go out with me?’ you whispered awkwardly.

instead of facing the rejection you’d expected, you were surprised to hear him say yes, and when you finally looked up at him, you saw his radiant smile and deep dimples warm you up from head to toe even in the frigid air. ‘that’s the best birthday present i’ve received so far, y/n,’ he said.

of course, it required a lot of effort for both of you to maintain a relationship and keep it under wraps; the only people who really knew about it was the members of his group, called nct, and your and his parents. (your mom had proudly declared that she ‘basically saw your relationship coming; it was so obvious that it was going to happen! thank me later for choosing this apartment!’)

the last six months have been hectic for jaehyun and his group, preparing for comebacks and travelling all over the world to hold concerts and meet fans. but, your boyfriend shrugs, ‘our schedules are finally over, and i was free, so i thought, why not surprise you?’ he rubs his head, wincing. ‘i don’t think it worked out perfectly, though. it was supposed to be more of a romantic surprise, but then i hit my head on the wall.’

your eyes still red and puffy from crying, you laugh at his clumsiness. you’d given him the extra key to your house to be used in emergencies, which you totally forgot about. you press a kiss to his cheek and say, ‘it’s the best surprise i could’ve received.’

jaehyun grins as he reaches for something into his coat pocket. ‘well, if you don’t mind, i have just one more surprise for you,’ he says softly. you gasp as he pulls two plane tickets out of his pocket, and without even inspecting them, you instinctively know they’re the tickets to your hometown. ‘let’s go back home, y/n,’ he says.

you and jaehyun spend the rest of the week in bliss. on saturday, you wake up to smell him cooking breakfast for you while you stay tangled in the sheets. your boyfriend is an early bird, and on top of that, he’s somehow always prepared -- from hiding his suitcases under your bed so you won’t see them to filling up your fridge to cook for you to planning your dates, whether it be at a fancy restaurant or at home eating pizza on the sofa together. and thanks to his meticulous planning, the days leading up to your journey back home feel like heaven. he even helps you pack your suitcases for the trip, handing you a checklist of essentials as he pores through your closet and helps you put outfits together.

on wednesday, the journey back home feels like a blur, from jaehyun loading your suitcases into the taxi to dropping off your baggage at the airport to sipping champagne in the plane, clinking glasses with jaehyun and smiling giddily. you drop off your bags at the nearby hotel you’re staying at and take a nap to sleep off the jetlag.

suddenly, you’re standing in front of the steps of your childhood on thanksgiving. you grasp jaehyun’s large hand in one hand and the handle of your handbag in the other, shivering as the snow falls lightly around you.

balancing two bottles of champagne your boyfriend murmurs, ‘do you remember what happened here, on my birthday?’

you know he’s talking about the night you confessed, and you fondly smile at the memory. it feels like it happened yesterday, and you can still vividly recall the butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach. ‘i was so scared,’ you admit. ‘scared that my best friend was moving away, but more scared that he would reject me.’

jaehyun seems taken aback. ‘how could i ever reject you? you’re basically perfect.’

you blush. ‘i’m far from perfect, but i’ll take that compliment,’ you laugh.

hand in hand, the two of you slowly ascend the stairs, making not to slip on any icy patches, and stroll through the familiar hallways until you reach the apartment you grew up in. across from yours is the one jaehyun was raised in, empty now after his parents moved after his debut.

taking a deep breath, you knock on the door.

almost immediately, the door flies open and you’re greeted with the welcoming embrace of your mom and dad. of course, they don’t leave out your boyfriend, who they haven’t seen since his debut; they always treated him like a second son (a perfect candidate for a son-in-law, they joked). there are tears and tissues passed around, and you can’t help but feel guilty about focusing so much on work and school for the past few years instead of on your parents. your mom waves your apologies off with a ‘as long as you’re well off, you’re healthy, and you’re happy, i’m happy.’

the scent of a thanksgiving meal wafts towards you, and your dad ushers you and jaehyun towards the dining table. the table is overflowing with food, and you, jaehyun, and your parents spend the rest of the evening catching up, joking around, and eating the delicious food your mom prepared. throughout the entire meal, jaehyun’s fingers remain interlocked with yours under the tablecloth.

jaehyun pops open the bottles of champagne and pours everyone a glass before pouring his own. you swish the sweet bubbly wine in your mouth, relishing the taste and silently thanking jaehyun’s impeccable taste. your parents seem to enjoy it too, and they openly compliment on his strong potential as a son-in-law who will ‘treat his in-laws better than his future fiance does,’ much to your mortification.

embarrassed, you pull jaehyun away from the table with the excuse of going to your room. you haven’t been in your room since you moved out for college, and you lead jaehyun by the hand through the hallway, both of you giggling and swaying slightly from the champagne, until you reach the third door on the left.

when you enter your room, it’s like nothing has changed. the blankets you slept in are still the same; your dresser and closet doors are still adorned with the stickers you chose when you were eight. you hear the bed creak under jaehyun’s six foot frame as he lies sprawled on your tiny bed, his long legs hanging over the edge of the bed, and you wander around the room, lost in your own memories.

you pass by the desk in the corner of the room, and you remember all the hours you spent studying for high school and writing college applications in the squeaky swivel chair. you pull open the desk drawers and, among the random papers and binder clips, you notice the bright pink flip phone you used for years. you look back on the brief moments you would spend calling jaehyun in between schedules and studying. he would always pick up as soon as possible, patiently listening to your sobbing rants or celebrating good test scores with you. you remember dialing his number as soon as you heard back from colleges; when you got into your first choice school, he’d cried with you. when he'd debuted, you'd cheered him on; when nct won their first win, you cried with him.

you turn to see him gazing at you, his lips and eyes curled into tiny smiles. you giggle, ‘what are you staring at?’

‘you, y/n. you’re so beautiful, and i’m so lucky, so blessed, to be with you,’ he gushes, words slurred and dimples deep. his eyes are sparkling, full of adoration.

you can’t tell if your face is warm from the alcohol or his declaration, but you feel flushed at his words. ‘i’m so thankful for you, jung jaehyun. you are the greatest thing that has ever happened to me,’ you whisper as you flop onto the bed next to him and lay your head over his chest as he wraps an arm around you.

‘even more than that one admission, when you cried when you opened the acceptance letter?’ he asked dazedly.

‘yes, you’re even more important. a hundred times more amazing,’ you hum, placing a kiss on his forehead. you feel fuzzy from head to toe, and your boyfriend heaves a sigh of satisfaction as you both drift off to sleep.

and that’s how your parents find you when they quietly check up on the two of you. they smile at you and jaehyun intertwined, your mom mouthing ‘young love’ to your dad, and leave the two of you content and deep asleep.

#jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jaehyun scenario #jaehyun imagine #jaehyun fluff #nct #nct 127 #nct u #nct 2018 #nct fanfic #nct scenario #nct imagine #nct au #nct fluff #nct jaehyun

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mintinosan · 5 years

Text

Daegu Boi’s: Chapter 1

pairing: YoongixTaehyung

genre/warnings: highschool AU, fluff, angst, bullying, homophobia, child abuse, cursing, alcohol abuse, verbal abuse

words: 2347

Summary: Kim Taehyung faces many hardships at a young age, from bullying at school to his abusive father at home. That is until Min Yoongi walks into his life, slowly things seem to brighten. Life gets easier little by little while he still has to face his demons. He'll get stronger as time goes on, opening up to his friends is just another step in the right direction.

Taehyung sighed his eyes slowly opening as the sound of the construction site across from the rundown apartment he lived in started up. Machines coming to life making the birds squawk and fly up he looked at the window next to his bed, seeing the sun hadn't even risen properly. He wanted to whine but kept it back. Getting up he stood there for a second admiring the dark blue sky getting lighter and lighter by the minute. He jumped when a bird flew past his window in a hurry, slowly he tiptoed his way over to the scratched up set of draws that was at the end of his mattress, he grabbed out his school uniform which consisted of a grey sweater, white blouse, black tie, black pants, and black shoes. Sneaking over to his old wooden door and peeked his head out staying as quiet as possible, listening out he wanted to cheer when he heard nothing but the construction workers. Creeping towards the bathroom across the hall from him he quickly slipped inside and placed the uniform down on the counter space. Stripping down he stepped into the shower turning it on taking what could be the quickest shower ever, ignoring the freezing cold water hitting his skin he scrubbed his body as fast as he could wincing in pain when the rubbed too hard against a couple of bruises. In record time he was out of the shower the water turned off as he used an old looking towel to dry himself. His rapid drying slowly came to a stop as he looked into the messy mirror sitting on the wall part of it shattered, his gaze fell down to the red marks around his neck then to the bruises running down his torso and his arms. Shaking his head he continued to dry his hair only to slip the school uniform on making sure the blouse covered his marks. Sighing he looked at the clock on the wall seeing it read 5:05, he brushed his teeth not caring too much for his hair he just pushed it down so there weren't too many crazy stray hairs going everywhere. Sneaking back to his room he flinched with his eyes clenched shut when the floorboard under his foot creaked, after standing still frozen for a couple of minutes he sighed in relief and continued back to his room grabbing his simply backpack, his black shoes and some simple socks that somehow didn't have holes in them. Finding himself walking towards the kitchen he peeked around the corner only to see the man who was meant to be his father snoring away on the couch beer bottles surrounding him while some food laid on his beer belly slipping to the side every time he breathed in and out. Taehyung watched the man before him sadness entering his eyes before he walked into the kitchen placing his bag down as he avoided the rubbish and glass bottles. He grabbed out a chipped bowl then some cereal, he wanted to scream when nothing slipped from the cardboard bow but once again he had to hold it all back. "Why today of all days" he whimpered, putting the bowl away and throwing the box in the bin. Picking up his bag and shoes he walked down the hall his whole body freezing when his foot tapped s glass bottle causing it to his other's. There was loud groaning coming from the lounge room and with great speed, Taehyung had his shoes on and was out the door, fast walking down the hall. he turned the corner and had to quickly step back before he could collide with the elderly woman who had just stepped out of her apartment. "You're up very early Taehyung" She smiled kindly bowing her head slightly while Tae bent down looking back up with his own smile "I could say the same for you halmonee," Taehyung said making the woman laugh "With the construction going on, I don't know how people can sleep" she sighed then noticed how Taehyung was dressed "Well you best be on your way" she smiled shooing him away with one last bow and a wave Taehyung walked towards the stairs since the complex had no elevator. He never once saw the sad look enter the elder ladies eyes as she watched him leave. Walking down the street, Taehyung quickly shoved his hands into his pockets as the morning air hit him harshly. He watched as people rush around getting to their work or as people set up their shops fighting off the cold. looking up he watched the pinks and orange make its way through the blue making a beautiful ombre, it had Taehyung smiling until he heard familiar voices and looked in front of him tensing up when he saw a group of boys that went to his school messing around. Instantly Taehyung changed his course turning down an alleyway walking as fast as he could. Once he was on the other side far away from the boy's he finally allowed himself to relax a little, looking around where he was he groaned once he realized it was a dead end. Reluctantly he turned back listening out for the boy's voices, a grin making it's way onto his face when he not only didn't hear them but he didn't see them. Walking out he looked into some stores windows as he walked past, his eyes widened when he saw the same boys in the store, quickly he speeds forward but the boys had seen him and walked out the shop. "Oi Kim Taehyung!" they called walking towards him their footsteps getting faster, instantly Taehyung speed up only to end up in a run when they boys still followed, losing them in a large crowd as he then hid behind a large dumpster< "Fuck! How did we fucking lose him!" he heard the boys yell as they ran off. He waited there for a couple of minutes then slowly stepped out his body never once relaxing as he dashed down the street not wanting to run into them. His breath left his lungs as he panted harshly leaning over his knees, slowly he calmed down. Standing up straight he sighed, feeling his body relax naturally as he stood before the school he attended. Walking onto the grounds he made his way over to the buildings walking around them until he found an open window the janitors always forgot to shut and lock, climbing through easily he stepped into the forgotten classroom which was classified as out of bounds and he walked out into the hallways walking up the stairs until he was in front of his classroom. After the janitors found him multiple times they just kept the door unlocked, allowing him to sneak in whenever. So when he found the door unlocked he wasn't shocked. He walked over to the desk in the front to the very right, sitting down he looked up at the clock sitting in the centre of the room seeing it read 6:30. He pulled out his school books doing some homework he never got to finish at home and he zoned out all his concentration on the books in front of him until he finally finished which was around 7:20 meaning he still had a couple of hours to spare. Bringing his backpack onto the desk he placed all of his books inside of it only to carefully pull out a small old comic book that had worn pages. Treating it with the utmost care he started to read away getting lost in the adventures the main character had, he never noticed the teacher walk-in setting his things up only to walk out minutes later, he did however notice when the school bell went off, instantly his book was back in his bag and he was sitting there leaning against one hand as the students slowly piled into the room. "Taehyung!" the boy's head shot up, looking to his left a smile making it's way on to his face when he saw Jimin walking over to him with his newly dyed blonde hair. "What do you think of my new colour?" he chuckled sitting down getting his things out "It suits you just like the other colours hyung" Taehyung laughed as Jimin nodded his head jokingly everyone went quiet once the teacher walked into the room listening as he talked away "Oh Did you finish the maths project?" Jimin questioned which had Taehyung's eyes widening his mouth opening slightly and all he could get out was a small ahh, Jimin laughed only to freeze when the teacher glared their way. Once the teacher had turned away from them Jimin let out a small giggle "We have until Thursday to hand it up if you want we can meet up maybe tomorrow or Wednesday and work on it together" Jimin suggested smiling gently once he saw the relief come from Taehyung as he relaxed a bit. They continued their small talk, keeping it down so the teacher didn't yell at them. Then the bell went "Have fun in English!" Jimin called waving as he ran off Taehyung could only yell a quick 'have fun' in dance before the shorter disappeared around the corner. Shaking his head with a smile Taehyung went to his English class, once again sitting in the front. Trying to concentrate as best he could during the class but it was hard for Taehyung since he could hear the people around him snickering and whispering about him knowing they were being loud enough for him to hear. The class continued on slowly for Taehyung he just kept his head in his books trying his best to ignore the hateful comments flying his way. He jumped when a scrunched up the piece of paper landed on his desk, hesitantly he unwrapped it and frowned when he saw it only had hateful words sprawled out on it such as Freak, ugly, waste of space, useless, moron and so on. Walking over to the bin he threw it away and went back to his desk tripping over someone's leg when it suddenly outstretched in front of him, luckily he caught himself just in time. The bell rang instantly it felt like a weight was lifted from his shoulders, Taehyung grabbed his stuff waited for the others to leave and once they were gone he stepped out happy to see the rest of his friends. He went to turn the corner but a harsh shove to the shoulder sent him to the ground his bag was taken from his shoulders and thrown to the ground "Watch where you're going" A guy spat kicking his bag then walked off with his group following behind laughing as Taehyung tried to pick up all of the papers which had flown out from his bag but it was hard considering people purposely walked past and kicked the paper's some even kicked his hand. Eventually, he collected everything and rushed down the hall ignoring the sneering people gave him. He stepped into the cafeteria and smiled when he saw Seokjin, and Hoseok chatting away. Once Hoseok saw him he started waving excitedly to him. Taehyung quickly walked over and sat down next to the blonde. "How was your lesson?" Jin questioned after swallowing his food "your later than usual" he pointed out "Sorry hyung, the teacher wanted to talk after class about some things that I needed help with" Taehyung explained, they nodded and continued to talk about random things "where's Jimin hyung?" he asked looking around confused "Not sure must be the day for being late" Jin chuckled while Taehyung blushed slightly but nodded, soon after he jumped when Jimin sat down next to him "Sorry I'm late guys I want you to meet my new friend his name is Jeon Jungkook, Jungkook this is Kim Seokjin, Jung Hoseok, and Kim Taehyung" Jimin said pointing to each one, the boy waved shyly while the group talked to him normally, he sat down on the other side of Jimin and ate some food he had on his tray. "Oh guess what Taehyung Jungkook is in our Maths class I can't believe we didn't notice" Jimin joked looking to the younger excited who chuckled and continued to just enjoy his friends chatter rather than say much himself. "Did you recently move here?" Hoseok asked elbows on the table looking straight at Jungkook “Yeah my parents got a job near here so we moved" he explained grabbing to food as he continued to talk with the group fitting in right away Taehyung felt his stomach grumble and his hand instinctively came up as if trying to make it go quietly, luckily his friends didn't seem to notice, so he just looked down "Just wait until later" he murmured to himself, he jumped when a packet of pineapple and strawberries landed in front of him. He looked up only to see Jungkook smiling at him mouthing a 'you looked hungry' then he turned back into the conversation, leaving Taehyung sitting there slightly shocked. He smiled and ate giving Jungkook a grateful look as his stomach soon stopped complaining once he hesitantly dug in. Soon the bell rang, the five split up. Taehyung went to his Korean class and was shocked to find Jungkook was in the same class. The younger waved and sat next to him "Hey Hyung I didn't realize you had the same subject" he grinned and the two helped each other throughout the class. Taehyung was glad that Jungkook either didn't notice the class talking crap or he just ignored it. Time seemed to go much faster, and before Taehyung knew it he was standing outside the school waving goodbye to Jungkook. Turning to leave the road he took to his house he walked down more alleyways just to avoid the bullies who usually waited around. The thoughts of everything that happened today running through his head making him smile.

#fanfiction #bts #vmin #taegi #vmin fic #taegi fic #min yoongi #kim taehyung #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #jung hoseok #park jimin #jeon jungkook #fanfic #taegi au #bts fic #bts fanfic

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lifemuchgreener · 6 years

Text

Brothers Trust - Chapter 9

STORY SUMMARY: You enter the Brothers Trust contest on a whim, not expecting to win. But what happens when you do?

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Your plans for the summer change suddenly when you don’t get a good grade in one of your classes and have to retake it as a summer class. Everything is going okay until an exposé is published about your relationship with Tom just days before the premiere of Spider-Man: Far From Home.

WARNINGS: Swearing and ANGST.

WORD COUNT: 1744

AUTHOR’S NOTE: 👀👀👀 also: Y/C/N refers to the name of the college or university you go to for the sake of this story.

Prologue: here

Chapter/Day One: here

Chapter/Day Two: here

Chapter/Day Three: here

Chapter/Day Four: here

Chapter Five: here

Chapter Six: here

Chapter Seven: here

Chapter Eight: here

Your second semester of school flies by even faster than the first semester did. Maintaining a long distance relationship with one of the world’s current most popular actors, keeping up with all of your classes, and finding time for anything else is not an easy feat but you manage. At least you think you do.

“Yes!” your roommate exclaims loudly which startles you from packing up things on your desk. “Grades were just uploaded.”

She’s been refreshing her laptop browser for the last hour and a half, eagerly waiting to see what her final grades are. You’re not too worried so you’ve decided to get some packing done but you figure a five minute break to check your grades won’t hurt.

You open up your laptop, log into your student account, and click the link that will take you to your grades.

“Holy fuck,” you say, staring at the one unimpressive letter in front of your eyes.

“What’s wrong?” your roommate asks.

“I, uh.” You swallow hard, your throat suddenly feeling dry. “I got a D.”

She’s silent for a moment. “Ah, well...at least that’s a passing grade?”

You shake your head. “It’s a class for my major -- it doesn’t count. I don’t get credit. Fuck.”

She instantly tries to do some damage control. “What’s the course number? I’ll see if they’re offering it over the summer.”

You tell her the number and close your eyes as she does a search. This can’t be happening.

“They’re offering it over the summer,” she says. “It’s going to be okay. You can just take it again without disrupting your four-year plan.”

“Summer classes are so expensive. And it costs a lot of money to stay on campus during the summer, too -- I can’t afford that.”

“Move in with Andrew and me,” she says. “We’ve already signed the lease for an apartment nearby. He’s taking a couple of summer classes to get ahead and I’m staying in the area for my internship with the local newspaper. We were going to look for a third person to split the apartment with anyway.”

“Who’s Andrew?”

“That guy that tried to ask you out last semester,” she says. “We, uh, took a class together this semester and we’ve been dating for a few months. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want it to be weird.”

You haven’t really talked to Andrew since that party in November. That’s why you don’t remember his name -- who needs Andrew when your boyfriend is Tom Holland?

“Could I? Is that okay?” you ask.

She smiles at you. “I wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t okay.”

So you move from your dorm room into a cute little apartment down the street with your roommate and your roommate’s boyfriend, who just so happens to be the same guy who asked you out on a date during your first semester. The first month together goes smoothly despite this: you enjoy meals together at the tiny kitchen table, you have movie marathons, you binge-watch Netflix.

It’s the end of June when shit hits the fan.

You wake up to the consistent buzzing of your phone which is extremely annoying; it’s a Friday and you’d like to sleep in because your class only meets on Wednesdays and Thursdays.

Normally when you post a selfie or something you’ll wake up with a few hundred notifications -- some of Tom’s fans still like and comment on every new picture you post despite the contest being nearly ten months ago. But you haven’t posted a picture recently which is what confuses you.

You unlock your phone and check Instagram to see what all the fuss is about since that’s where the majority of the notifications are coming from. Tom Holland fan accounts are tagging you in photos, which isn’t anything new, but it’s the actual photos that they’re tagging you in that make your heart skip a beat. They’re photos that nobody would have access to except for you and Tom.

Tom kissing your cheek. You kissing his. Your fingers intertwined. A selfie you took with Tom and Tessa. All photos you had taken together when you visited for New Years and had printed out on special paper in the school library so you could put them on your wall next to your signed picture with him.

Your first thought is that someone hacked into the school’s printing system somehow and released the photos on Tumblr or maybe one of the Reddit threads that has to do with Marvel. But then you notice that all the comments on the pictures are talking about some sort of article. You figure that doing some investigating will be easier to do on a bigger screen so you grab your laptop and do a search in Google for ‘tom holland girlfriend 2019.’

The first result is for some magazine that you have never heard of. The article in particular, titled “Tom Holland Has A Secret Girlfriend...OMG!” was evidently posted three hours ago. You click on the link and immediately begin to read.

Move over Zendaya...Tom Holland’s got a new girl! But is she really that new?

Her name is Y/F/N Y/L/N and she’s a student at Y/C/N. You may recognize her from this picture--

There’s a break in the paragraph to show the picture of you and Tom that Nikki had taken on the day you visited the Far From Home set.

--because she was the winner from a contest put on by an organization created by the Holland family back in the summer of 2018. Holland and Y/L/N started a long distance relationship in the fall and she spent a portion of her winter vacation at his place in London.

There’s another picture. This time it’s you and Tom laying in his bed post-sex. Both of you are topless and while the sheets are covering your chest, it’s pretty obvious that you two had just been at it: your hair is disheveled and your lips are more colored than normal from kissing. Beads of sweat glisten on Tom’s hairline and there’s a lovely flush across his cheeks as he presses a kiss to your bare shoulder.

You’re instantly infuriated. How fucking dare someone post such an intimate picture of you two without your permission? You scroll back up to the top of the page instead of continuing to read and your eyes widen with surprise when you find the byline.

You push yourself off of your bed and throw open the door of your tiny bedroom. Your heart is beating fast as you check the small living room and kitchen. The bathroom door is open and nobody is in the shower. Without a second thought you throw open their bedroom door, not caring what you’ll find on the other side.

But that’s empty too. There’s no sign of her or him.

“Fuck!” you swear loudly, tears starting to spill from your eyes. You fist your hands into your hair and let out an angry scream. “How fucking could she?”

You double over onto the floor like you’ve been punched in the stomach. You’re pretty sure a punch would hurt less than this betrayal of trust from a person you thought was your friend. You continue to cry and scream, pounding your fists against the carpeted floor. You’re grateful that nobody lives below you.

You stop crying when you hear the sound of your phone ringing in your bedroom. You pick yourself up off of the floor and sulk to your room, a whole new wave of tears coming over you when you see that it’s Tom who’s calling.

“I’m so sorry,” you sob into the phone, trying to control your voice the best you can. “Tommy, I’m so sorry.”

“Shh,” he says and even though you feel like the world is falling apart, his voice still manages to comfort you.

“I didn’t know she would,” you take a deep shaky breath. “I don’t know why…”

“That doesn’t matter right now,” he says. “It happened and now we have to do some damage control. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Well, I’m not okay.”

He sighs. “I mean, like, I wanted to make sure she didn’t have a knife to you or something.”

“She doesn’t. I can’t even find her. She’s not in the apartment.”

“You need to get out of there,” he advises. “I don’t want there to be a confrontation between you two. Go to a coffee shop or a park or something. Just get out of the apartment before she gets back.”

You put Tom on speakerphone as you get ready to leave.

“How do we do damage control?” you ask.

“I’ll take care of it,” he says. “I’m going to talk to everyone I know and see what they think I should do because babe, I know it might sound like I know what I’m doing, but I totally don’t. I’ve never had to deal with anything like this before and I want to get advice on what to do.”

“So what do I do?”

“I need you to wait,” he says. “Don’t reply to anything yet. I’ll text you as soon as I figure out what to do.”

“Fuck, Tom, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault so stop apologizing. Lay low for a little bit. I’ll send you a message as soon as I come up with a plan.”

“Okay,” you say. “I can do that.”

“Good.” You can hear him smile through the phone despite the stressful situation. “I’ll talk to you later.”

You hang up the phone and dry your eyes off with the sleeves on your shirt. You grab your phone charger, apartment keys, and bag before heading out the door. Your feet lead you to a little coffee place not too far away and you sit at a table in the back, attempting to distract yourself with games on your phone as you impatiently wait for Tom’s message.

What do you think about joining me for the movie premiere on Monday?

Your fingers dance across your phone screen as you write back your reply of: That’s the plan you’ve come up with?

Will you or won’t you? Harrison’s already arranged for an Uber to pick you up and drive you to the airport and if we don’t cancel it within the next minute they’ll still charge him.

Yes, you type back. Yes. I’ll go with you.

Good. See you tonight, love.

Taglist: @deadlyaffairs, @strrwberries, @le-papillon-chatoyant, @smexylemony, @carolborges890, @ineedsomemoremetime, @loxbbg, @mac-demarco1, @howdycharlie, @rebekahs-worlds-blog, @parkersvinyl, @ballerinaphan, @lovesdeath, @tom-hollands-eyelash, @supercool-holland, @tomspideyweb, @literallygooutofmyfreakingmind, @corteousdolan, @iwillalwaysbevictorious, @simplechicwithacrazedheart, @allofthebitters, @julliene0806, @kittyisabel, @aliceinwhateverland, @tomshollanddarling, @emmyfignewton, @hollandfangirl, @tommyswolves, @saintlystark, @imthwipped, and @kristyesteven

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland fanfiction #marvel smut #marvel x reader

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winstonhcomedy · 5 years

Text

“Dope A-F” - 5/1-5/7 - “Lot’s of Shows, A Riot at Castleburg, and Do You Have Twitter?”

I GOT BEHIND AGAIN!!! WHY LAYDEES WHYYYY!!! You’ve got to keep me on my toes lovely ones. I will get these shows done. I have a lot of mics to get caught up on, but I know we can do it! So let’s get right to it! xoxo

5/1

I was trying to hit three mics tonight. It was going to be tough, but I knew I could do it. It was also Jacob McFadden’s last night hosting Home Sweet Home before he moved to PA.

My night started by doing a happy hour and hanging with some coworkers for a bit. After that I headed to Main Stage Cafe which is the home of Jay Ron’s Weak on Wednesday’s comedy show. This was the first time I was going to be able to check it out.

I got there early to sign up, and got some fried chicken Mac and cheese. I met up with Bryan Williams, and we hung out and chatted. I took a phone call with another comic about some stuff they were gong through and wanted to discuss with me, and then when I came back in more comedians started to show up.

Jay Ron gets there and he tells us he is gong to wait for a few people to get there before the show starts. There are a few comics doing the open mic, and a few for the booked portion. This is an urban show, so it was an exclusively black audience. Which is fine with me I love working these rooms. It’s a great way to try new stuff, and see if your material works across different groups.

I am told I am going to be up second. First is Bryan. He goes up after Jay Ron and they don’t really vibe with him at all. He gets a few laughs, but his self deprecating style doesn’t really click with he 8 or 9 people that are there.

After he gets off it is my turn. Jay Ron brings me up on stage saying I am his, “n word” and that gets a laugh. I then go up and go right into crowd work. Bryan asked if anyone used facebook and no one responded so I riffed on a lady who is obviously lying because she has been on Facebook this entire show. I then talk to a single lady about if she ever been with white guys she said no in a negative tone so I riffed on her being racist, and then went into my material. I talked about teaching and it got some good responses.

I felt good about my set because I feel like I woke the crowd up, and got them involved. I love being able to be the one to crack them, and make the show better for other comics. I’d give my set a B-. Some of the crowd work was lame, but it worked, and the material did as well.

I left immediately and headed over to Emiliio’s hosted by Sho. I was hoping I’d be able to get up quickly before heading over to HSH. I walk up to the venue and it looks empty. I walk in and there are like 5 or 6 people talking at the bar and Sho says I can go up if I want. Apparently only one other comic Aaron Shoemaker even did Emilio’s that night. Which is a shame that people did not take advantage of another mic so close to HSH.

I tell him I’m ready to go up and I have a super fun 10 minute set. I try all new stuff, and the people there are super into it. I riff quite a bit, and try some stuff including my R. Kelly joke (which has been doing pretty well) and legit this is one of the more fun poorly attended mics I’ve done in a while. I’d give this set a B+. I talk to Sho a bit and then head over to HSH.

I get there and it is packed. Like legit. The show is starting in five minutes and there are about 30 comics signed up, and an actual crowd, and Jacob is starting to get super emotional.

Comics drove from all over to go up. Some came from DC just to get a spot and say goodbye, which was really dope to see. The comics meeting was held outside and it seemed like Jacob was going to cry. I take a few pictures, and then head inside. Everybody is here. Beswick, Velez, Anthony, Kusterer, Engle, Mike Shea (Brown Frown the Clown), Stella, Richard Woody, Alex Dejulio (came from DC) Bryan, and so many others including some newbies.

The crowd is into the show from the beginning. It is jammed upstairs so you people are having to stand all the way down the stairs and it is awesome. I am up eighth and I am watching comic after comic go up and have a good set. I am so nervous, but also so ready to go.

Finally it is my turn. I go up and Jacob gives me a classic bad intro saying that I am a bad guy that everyone hated, and that I lie about teaching at a school for autism. It makes me laugh and I go up. I do a little light crowd work. I talk to a new comic who is chatty and says his name is also Jacob, and I am like, “I like old Jacob better, this new Jacob is too chatty.” That gets a laugh and then I go into my material and I have a pretty hot set. Some things don’t hit as well as others, but everything gets a laugh and my R. Kelly joke hits really hard. This is the joke I am enjoying doing the most right now,. I also used my last 30 seconds to say something nice to Jacob and just when he was getting ready to cry I made sure to throw a joke in. I’d give this set a solid A-.

I get off stage and feel super good. After me is Anthony and he has a hot set as well. I go downstairs after his and just relax and chill. I am enjoying talking to everybody and just being in the moment. I make sure to stick around for Brown Frown the Clown. I also make sure to watch Jacob give Richard Woody the worst intro of all time. He finally got to do the bit again where he brings Richard Woody up as a convicted sex offender which he has done to Richard for the last 6 years of comedy. It got a laugh and Richard said some kind words and then got off stage.

When it is Brown Frown’s turn to go up all the comics try to pack it in upstairs. People are standing on the steps and even sitting on the floor. I make sure to make my way to the front to get some good pictures. Brown Frown is a drunken clown character created by Mike Shea and a staple of RVA comedy for years and years.

This performance he pretended to be breaking up with Jacob and the set included suicide jokes, sex with poop, sex with dolls, sex with Jacob, used condoms, maggots in someone’s pee hole, and parody songs about his love for Jacob. It was the best Mike Shea performance I have ever seen. It made me laugh so hard and I am so glad I was there to witness it. Afterwards I headed downstairs said my goodbyes and headed home. This had been a long but fun night doing comedy in Richmond.

5/3

No mics so I took off Thursday. There was also nothing going on in RVA on Friday and I wasn’t booked so I hopped on three shows in DC. I got off work and headed straight up there. I was in traffic for what felt like forever and a 2 hour drive ended up taking about 3 1/2. I get there and park where I usually do. I take a 30 minute walk to get to Comedy Club DC (at Club Heaven and Hell) which is Tom Mango’s room.

I get there and go inside. I talk to Tom for a bit. It is crazy hot upstairs because the AC isn’t on yet. Reid Clark is hosting, and he and I watch this video about how Anthony Jeselnik built his newest hour. After this some people start to show up, but we are warned it is going to be a light crowd. I grab my stuff and move to another table.

Mark Mensh a comic from up there and I had a super long nice talk. We talked about comedy and he said a lot of nice things about the blog which honestly means a lot. I don’t know I assume no one reads this so when someone else does, and they tell me things they enjoy about it it really gives me the energy to keep doing it.

We then talked about him moving into the city, and how shows have been. We talked about Gary Gulman and his everyday tips, and just continued to discuss the art of comedy. It was a nice and very fun talk.

More and more comics showed up. I met a few, but it is mostly people I don’t know at all. Bob Siegel was there and I met a dude named Jamal. We are all chilling and the show finally gets started with about 11 people there.

Tom gets in a Gumby outfit and goes up to introduce Reid as host. The first half of the show is people going up and trying to crack them. It is tough because it seems like no one is able to do it. They’ll chuckle a little, but the energy is never there, and the audience definitely needed to wake up.

Comic after comic goes up. A few do well, and a few do ok. Most don’t do very well at all. Tom is freaking out, but it is no one’s fault. These are a lot of newer and inexperienced comics, and being able to wake up a tough crowd is definitely a skill you have to develop.

Finally it is my turn. I go up and do 15. My only goal is to make the show better for everyone else after me. I have to do some crowd work, and slowly get them on my side. I get a few huge pops, and really won them over. I was sweating so much, and working my ass off. Not my best set, but it was super productive. I felt like I got the room ready for comedy, and did my job as the dude closing the first half of the show. I got to do a lot of newer stuff and it worked like I’d been doing it for a while. I’d give my set a B.

After this Tom went up and did his time. He got a few laughs, and I just hope the next few comics can really grab onto the momentum and ride it. After him everybody started to do really well. You could tell the crowd wanted jokes, and since I got on stage another 20 or so people had come into the venue. They all had good energy and everybody did well. Even though I wouldn’t say I got the biggest laughs of the night by any means, I definitely felt good about what I had done. Mark had a good set, and a few other dudes I had never seen before really did well as well. It was nice to see.

After this I said goodbye and thanked Tom for the time. I hopped in an Uber and headed over to DC Drafthouse to do Attack of the Comics hosted by Haywood Turnipseed JR.

I get there and I am a little early. I meet a comic from NYC named Irene who is down for a music festival, and I got to walk to a few comics I hadn’t seen in a while. I got to talk to Benjy for a bit because he was opening for Anthony Devito for the two early shows. Ross showed up, and finally Haywood decided to get the show rolling. I was going to be going second so I could hit Big Hunt.

Haywood goes up and does about 10 to 15 and gets the crowd warmed up. I can tell they are gong to be fun. After him Al Williams goes up. He just moved back, and he had a good set. After him it was my turn.

I go up and have a super hot set. Everything is working. My R. Kelly joke absolutely murders. I am so upset that I left my camera in my car like an idiot. I am desperately trying to get a good video of that joke so I can post it online before it becomes wack. The rest of my set goes well and I close really hard with a teaching joke. I'd give this set an A-. Other than a few lines up top that were weird everything worked great. I say thanks and hit the road heading over to Big Hunt. Ross tells me he dug the R.Kelly joke and I respect that dude a lot so that felt great.

I get to Hunt and people are hanging out downstairs. Sami Sfeir is hosting and there is a good conversation about strip clubs going on downstairs. I get to talk to Lafayette, Cook, Sean, Maddy, and a few others. Naomi showed up and we got to talk about some school stuff she has coming up soon so that was nice.

I am set to go up pretty late in the show so I settle in ready to hang for a while. then I get the glorious news that Ross isn’t there yet so I get bumped up a few spots. The crowd has been drunk and weird all night. They didn’t really give Maddy anything in front of me. It derailed her set and their attention was all over the place. They didn’t seem fun, but I had to go up and work it.

I had a pretty good set all things considered. I hated it, but I know it was going pretty well. I got the R.Kelly joke to work well, and a few other things. They were drunk so I had to slow down what I was saying and try to sell it really hard. I feel good about it though. I just didn’t murder the way I wanted to. I’d give this set a b-. I then grabbed my stuff and headed right to my car. I was too tired to go home so I ended up going to TJs and passing out immediately. I have two shows tomorrow and I need my rest.

5/4

The next day I woke up and relaxed for a while before driving down to Richmond. I was going to be there pretty early and was looking for something to do. I was getting ready to go to a friend’s to take a nap but then Nathan Possum (my old partner from Comics and Consoles and the creator of Barry White Hanson) hit me up and we got lunch.

It was a lot of fun seeing him. We talked about comedy, and possibly bringing back Comics and Consoles in another form than the let’s play. Mostly we just caught up and talked shit. It was a super fun time and the best way to wind down before the first show.

I had e-mailed Mike Engle for a spot earlier in the week, but I wanted to get there early to write and relax. I head over to Castleburg Brewery to set up shop. I chill in my car a bit and then head inside once Bryan Williams gets there. We chill and talk a bit and more comics show up.

Mike gets there, a bunch of new comics, Stella, Ryan Mather, the headliners (Tim Truehart, Drew Robertson), Moe Singleton, Aaron Shoemaker, and Ben Oliver.. We get a game of corn hole going, and legit it is one of the better hangs I’ve had doing comedy in a while. Everybody is joking around and we keep playing until showtime.

The way Game of Jokes works is you have several brackets of randomly selected comics. You don’t know when you’re going up, but when you go up you do 5 minutes and at the end of the round the audience votes on who they like, and it is up to the two judges to pick who they think had the best set. The only thing you win is an extra five minutes. Which is cool, but honestly it doesn’t matter that much.

Around the time the show starts Anthony Thompson shows up. The hang is still pretty good and there is a nice little audience. Mike goes up and he does ok. They are not vibing with his new, but I respect that he was trying to work out this new joke anyway. The first comic is this dude named Fancy Gym and he does a bit where he brings a huge red bag on stage and he goes “knock knock”. The audience goes, “who’s there”? He says, “banana,” and then proceeds to take a banana out of the bag. He does this for 5 minutes and brings out about 70+ bananas, when he finally gets to the orange it gets a pretty good laugh. He messed up the line, but it was entertaining to watch. Kind of ridiculous, and five minutes is a long ass time to see that.

I then get a phone call and go outside. it is a dude trying to book me for a gig on Mother’s Day. While we are working out the details someone comes out and tells me it is my time to go on stage. I am kind of freaking out because this is a paid gig, but at the same time I’m not trying to ruin the show. I ask the booker to let me call him back and as I am running inside I hear one of the judges yell, “if he doesn’t hang up that damn phone, and get in here he is gong to get bumped.” Which I felt was a little aggressive.

I get up on stage and go into my act and I have a super hot set. My R.Kelly joke gets a huge response and then I do a few teaching jokes along with my newish bit about sleep masks. I have the best set up to this point of the show. I dealt with a table of hecklers calling them juggalos after I mention Faygo, and then shitting on them a bit. They loved it and all in all it was a really fun set I was proud of. I’d give it a B+/A-.

I get off stage and go finish my phone call. I get done right as the final comic is on stage. I asked how people have been doing, and everyone says the rest of the comics in my group did ok/pretty well. I have another set to get to this night so I don't particularly want to make it to the next round, but it is definitely cool to be picked.

They ask the audience to vote for everybody. Each person gets a pretty good response, but I had a resounding response for my set. It felt cool to be able to crack them, and set the rest of the show up for success. Then it came time for the judges to pick. Tim picked his buddy Jacob who rode up with him, and Drew picked my buddy Ryan. No big deal. I was surprised but at the same time this solves the problem of sticking around for the second set.

They then have the audience vote between those two. They say Jacob’s name and no one really claps. They then say Ryan’s name and no one really claps. Mike goes, “ok well we are going to have to do it again.” As he says this a woman behind one of the judges goes, “everyone did really well, but this is bullshit we all know Winston won,” and then the crowd went insane. Like absolutely nuts. It was giving me so much anxiety because I’d never seen something like this before. In the moment it sucked, but looking back it was a pretty cool thing. One judge goes, “he is not in this so you need to pick between the two we picked.” This upset them a bit, and I had to go and be like, “hey everybody. It is ok. Pick between my friends this is a fun show.” After this they finally picked and they moved on. Tim went on stage and started his set talking about how he voted for who he rode with because he has to go back with them. Which is fine, and got a good laugh. I didn’t watch most of his set because I was feeling weird.

I went outside to kind of unwind. Like that whole situation gave me a lot of anxiety. It was weird for that to happen and feel like it was derailing the show. The vibe was just weird and I didn’t really want to be around it. While I was outside with my friends talking and relaxing the Drew dude came out to me and was like, “you had a wonderful set.” I told him he didn’t have to lie to me. I wasn’t upset, but for him to not vote for me it just means he didn’t dig my comedy which was ok. This stuff is subjective, the dude was obviously an alt comic and it wasn’t his cup of tea. He kept trying to talk to me, and I told him I didn’t want to talk. I was having an anxiety attack and this wasn’t productive. He said I had good stage presence and I was like, “dude. I do not want to hear why you didn’t pick me. It is ok, but this isn’t productive and I don’t want to hear it.” He finished with, “I’ll just shut up.” I told him that was a good idea and he went inside.

This also gave me more anxiety, but I feel like I did the right thing. It was weird for him to come out and try to smooth stuff over. I felt like everyone was making this thing a bigger deal than it was. I also just hate people being fake. Like he didn’t think I had a wonderful set. So it doesn’t make sense to lie to me about it. I felt like I didn’t get voted for because I’m a hack (I suffer from imposter syndrome quite a bit). I still hung out and watched some more of the show. I stuck around to watch part of his set, and they didn’t vibe with him up top for first few minutes so I grabbed my stuff and headed out. The vibe was wack, and I was upset because of how much fun the day was up until that point.

I got in my car as it started to rain and headed to the warehouse show I was going to be on. It is on the other side of town and it was hosted by Tom Hall. The lineup is going to be fun, and I’m just ready to get there.

I get there at 10:40 and the show was supposed to start at 9:30 and it hadn’t started yet. Tom is pretty drunk and everyone is hanging out. It is a good vibe, and I tell a few people the story from Castleburg which alleviates some of my anxiety. LE Zarling is there as is Anne Meng, Kusterer, Paige, Buhse, Alida, Muñoz Jarvis, and a lot of others.

They have me going last and I have to ask them to bump me up because I’m exhausted and I cannot go up at 12:45 in the morning. They let me go first and we get the show started. Tom goes up and warms them up for ten minutes, and then I get to have a pretty good set.

It is as well as a show like this could go. Two doors down there is a hip hop show, and everyone had been here drinking since 8 pm. I have a good opening line thanking people for coming to a show on the set of Saw 3. That gets a good pop and the rest of my set goes well. I do ten minutes and I’d give it a B. I still feel weird, but I am proud I did my set.

After I get off stage several comics from Castleburg show up. Including Stella, Anthony, and the judge Drew. The show keeps going on and everybody is having fun. I find the cupcakes Tom made and shove about three in my mouth (I eat when I’m anxious). As the show continues the Drew guy comes up to me and we talk about it. He apologizes and I do the same. He is a nice guy and we talk comedy for a bit and it ends well. This immediately eliminates a lot of my weird feelings and we both get to enjoy the rest of the night. I think he understood where I was coming from, and got that it was a weird thing to try and do. I definitely understand he probably had good intentions, but it was not the time for it while dealing with my anxiety.

Everyone is having ok sets. I think I got the sweet spot because of how tired people were. Some people did well and people were coming and going. I had a blast and would totally do it again. Paige went up and worked some stuff out and it was definitely good to see. He and I talk for a bit and then I say goodbye to everyone. Stella and I talk about my anxiety and the night. This definitely helps. I feel a lot better afterwards and I get all my hugs in with my friends. It was truly a weird, but amazing night. I head home and pass out!

5/6

The open mic at The Southern was cancelled so I decided to do Jkogi. After work I kind of just hang around and relax. I get dinner and watch some tv and really just wind down.

I then head over to Jkogi a little early and get a nice hang in. Jack Parker is there and then Mike Engle shows up. I am trying to write some stuff down and figure it out. Ryan Mather comes in with his wife to chill. Eventually a bunch of comics are there. Moe, Rebecca, Anthony, Ben Oliver, and some others show up. The hang and vibe is pretty chill.

Kate is hosting and she has the comic meeting. I am going first and I am definitely ready to go. She goes up and works out some material about her car accident. She talks about a drawer in her car that has tampons on it. She brings me up next.

I get on stage and riff that it was exciting to find out that Kate doesn’t know that the drawer is called a glove box. This gets a laugh and I work out some material It all goes pretty well until Jacob McFadden comes in drunk and throws me off a bit (he loves doing this). I close super weak but that’s ok. I'd give this set a C-.

I get off and go outside. I decide to watch Jacob’s set. We are all hanging outside. I make a bunch of memes with him and Nate Izqieurdo and Jacob makes a setlist of what he is going to do.

I go in to film and watch him and the runs the hell out of the light. it is five minute sets and he does 10. His set is really funny, and I am glad I get to see some of those jokes one last time. He is absolutely wasted and is stepping on some of his own punchlines and messing up wording, but it was magical. Afterwards I say my goodbyes, and head out.

5/7

I am so excited for today. It is going to be three mics, and it is teacher appreciation week. So after work Kenn, Alex and I go grab some CiCi’s pizza. Which is legit one of my favorite restaurants.

We talk about Endgame, Game of Thrones, our buddy Paige, comedy, and everything in-between. While at dinner Pat Buhse posts that Mojos is cancelled for the night because their computers are down. so now my only spots are going to be Vagabond and Fallout.

I get to Vagabond and go in. There is one other comic and two dudes from DC hanging out. The other comic is Jack Parker and he goes up and does like 10 minutes. After him the two guys ask if I will go up.

I go up and do about 25 minutes of the most offensive stuff I have ever written. It is the kind of stuff they are into, and I haven't done that material in a long time. I don’t know if I worked any of it out, but they really enjoyed it. I felt good about myself while doing it, and realized how I dig those jokes but a lot of that stuff just doesn’t fit in my act anymore. I’d give this set a B- because it is very productive and I don’t think I could have made those two dudes laugh harder with anything else.

One of the dudes goes up and he opens by saying R.Kelly didn’t do it, he is Afghan so he didn’t do 9/11, and that he f**cks really hard with the environment. He does his act and gets a few laughs and has a seat. It was a fun cool time. I had a blast. I grab my stuff and tell Jack I’ll meet him at Fallout.

I get to Fallout and talk to the bartender Shelby. I wait for some other comics to get there, including the host Jesse. The hang is good and Jesse finally shows up. He and I catch up and talk about what shows we have coming up. He tells me about the stuff he is going through with his dog and it is really tough to hear I feel for that dude.

Alex and Beswick show up along with Ben, Jack, Anne, Alida, Mu with Paula, and a lot of other comics. A bunch of newer guys so this is going to be fun.

I am up third. So Jesse warms them up, then Beswick works out his material (he has some really good shit cooking right now), then Jack goes and does a Kegel act out to close out, before I get on stage.

I go up and I can’t get anything going. There is a nice little crowd and I am just eating shit on stage. There is a dude talking right at the stage and I try to address it and it doesn’t work. I have weird energy, and I have no won anyone over. Every bit that has been working lately is just dying on stage. I then do a bit and a girl in the audience goes, “do you have twitter? Because I know I’ve heard that before.” She is basically accusing me of stealing a bit off of Twitter and this sends me in a spiral. I finish my ten minutes and this set sucked. Even though I got laughs I feel like I am a piece of shit and a hack. I’d give this set an F.

The first thing I do is go in the back and talk to Alex. We are busting balls, but I look up the joke online. I find one line of it on Twitter, but it’s an opening line. It is not the joke. I can’t find the joke anywhere, but I am leaning towards dropping it altogether (I eventually just rewrite it). I legit can’t handle that. Being a hack is the last thing I want. I want to be funny and relatable. I don’t want to play to the back of the room, but I also want to be respected.

I am in a horrible headspace, but Brandon, and Alex talk me down. They tell me to do some breathing exercises, and we all talk about stuff we used to deal with. They bust my balls some more, but I watch Alex’s set (really good. hot one for that crowd) and afterwards I grab my stuff and go. We talk a bit outside and I do some breathing exercises in my car before heading home to pass out!

We did it laydees! Caught up again. I’ve got some fun shows this week, and the rest of the month. Tonight I am in Blackstone near where I grew up. We will see if I am a draw at all in that area (forecast says not even a little bit.) I will be back tomorrow sweetie pies! xoxoxo

#comedy #bomb #hack #thief #jokes #standup #improv #riot #competition #alt #club

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prongsno · 7 years

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wednesdays at three thirty

a late bday fic for @jamesandlilyaredead <3 (9445 words, read on ao3)

Everyone sees the world in black and white until they meet their soulmate. But James works in a coffee shop, and every time he sees colour there’s an annoying customer there too (AKA a coffee shop and soulmate au fic in one because i have no chill).

“One frozen mocha to go!”

It’s second nature to him now, as quick and easy as breathing. In one swift movement, James grabs hold of the milk carton, ready to pour it into the blender. He hears the door to the cafe open, a chilly breeze ruthlessly following a handful of students who scrabble inside as it begins to rain.

It’s then that it happens. The milk drops to the floor as he stares, perplexed, at the colour of his hand. It’s like the weight of an avalanche crumbles on top of him, an invisible weight pressing hard on his shoulders. Before he even realises, his legs are like jelly and he’s falling.

“James? Are you alright?” a voice asks.

He feels a hand pressed against his back, the sound of someone’s concerned voice muffled against his ear. He tries to say something, but all he can manage is an intense gasp for air as his legs shake once more.

He can see.

Not that he couldn’t before… but he can see.

Colours are everywhere, blinding and intense. They’re beautiful, so vibrant that it’s making his head spin.

He’s staring at white tiles, chestnut coloured cabinets. It feels like he’s on fire and, more than anything, he wishes he could stand, to just look around the place to see who is making him like this.

Of course, he’s read the stories like everyone else. Lullabies that dated back long before they even had a name. Fairy-tales of people who, like everyone else, saw the world in a lens, the colour of life squeezed out. There was only one person who could help to retrieve that colour back into your life.

A soulmate.

James blinks, his heart now slowing to a calm, even beat. He breathes in deeply, relishing the peaceful feeling that washes over him. The owner of the hand speaks again and rubs the place between his shoulder blades tentatively, asking if he needs an ambulance.

He shakes his head, finally looking up at Remus.

“Can you stand?” Remus asks, taking hold of James’ shaking hand and pulling him to his feet. He wobbles for a split second and reaches out to grasp hold of the counter with both arms. His fingers grip onto the support for dear life.

Who?

He swallows, a nauseating bubble rippling throughout his intestines and threatening to shoot up his throat. He breathes in, counting to ten. Slow and easy, he finally manages to pull his eyes away from the wooden counter and cautiously glances around cafe.

The colours are dazzling; blues, reds, greens, all different shades and intensities. They're all so vivid and intense that it feels like the ground’s shaking beneath him. The place is heaving with students, all wet due to the unexpected stormy April shower and James tries to look at as many as he can, searching desperately for someone who seems just as unsettled and surprised as him.

Everyone seems normal. How can that be? Colour’s just flown into every crevice of their being… and they don’t care?

There are too many voices, people ordering, grabbing their coffees and other beverages and talking aimlessly with one another. Amidst the chatter and the whirring noises from the coffee machines, the sound of the door opening reaches his ears. A freezing wind enters, the chilly kind that makes the hairs on his arms stand up on edge.

And then, just like that, his world is drained of colour.

The door closes shut and it’s like time pauses around him.

It’s shattering, to see the colour fade and vanish so brutally and without warning.

He’s moving in an instant, ignoring Remus and his concerned questions which he brushes off with a shake of his head. He’s dodging through the large mass of students, speech failing him as he finally makes it to the door and flings it open. The rain’s pouring down with no mercy and it seems that fate has none either.

The person has vanished. The person, his soulmate.

“James!” Remus is by his side, grabbing his arm softly as he shuts the door. “Are you mad? Your feet are soaked now.”

James can’t speak, he doesn’t know what to say. His throat itches to release a soul-shattering sob; that’s what it feels like, soul-shattering.

He numbly allows Remus to lead him to the staff room, setting him down on his favourite armchair. The cushions sink beneath him and the dull chime of the cedar clock echoes in his head.

“James?” Remus asks again, this time plopping a hot cup of tea into his cold hands.

“It happened, Remus,” he whispers, it’s so painful to speak, like the air has been choked out of his lungs. He’s scared that perhaps it’s all just a dream.

“It?” Remus asks, watching James with a careful gaze. “What was it like?”

James sighs and looks down at his tea, stirring it aimlessly for a few seconds before he takes a small sip. “Unlike anything that’s ever happened before,” he says finally. He lets out a deep sigh and runs a hand through his hair, gripping at the ends.

“The colours were so perfect and then it was gone. They were gone - they just left and took the colour with them.”

“Which colour was the prettiest?”

“Red,” James says in an instant, a small smile creeping onto his face. His eyes brighten, recalling the feel of it. There’s something about that colour, it made him feel warm.

“All of them, Remus. But red… red was intense.”

The two sit in silence for a few moments. James takes cautious sips of his tea whilst Remus sits and watches his every move. The silence is more reassuring than unsettling, but still Remus tries his best.

“James…” The cafe is still horrendously busy and there’s only so much Peter and Sirius can handle on their own. He wrings his hands together, but James is the one to speak first.

“Do you think… do you think that’s it?”

This time James’ voice is back to normal. No hushed whispers, no desperately needed gasps for breath after each word. The only tell-tale sign is his right hand, his fingers still shaking.

There had been millions of accounts of people seeing colour, from all over the world. And for some that had been it, just the one moment and then they were back to the way they had always been. The colours just slowly faded from their memories like it had never happened.

“Well,” Remus starts, unsure, “if they came to the cafe then they must be a student.” he checks his watch, glancing at the time and date, “I mean, it’s a Wednesday. Student for sure.”

“Unless it’s a teacher, that’d be unfortunate.” James mutters, finally feeling like himself again. He smiles, nods his head and allows Remus’ feeble attempts to give him a slither of hope.

He gulps back the rest of his tea, assuring his friend he’s fine to go back to work.

If he’s meant to see them again then he will. And if he doesn’t then, well, he’d just go on as normal. He'd unwillingly let the memory fade away, just like the colour had.

Classes don’t seem to put his mind at ease at all - he spends the hours doodling in the margins of his notebook, not listening at all to the way Mrs McGonagall lectures on about Biology. And when the two hours are finally up, he jogs all the way back to the coffee shop.

Peter looks up in surprise from his spot at the till.

“Alright? Didn’t think you were working today.”

“Nah, I’m not. But - err - thought you could use some help? Thursdays, mate. Everyone needs a coffee on a Thursday.”

Peter smiles, thankful for the sentiment and James drags himself behind the counter, throwing his white apron on like it’s hot coal in his hands.

He glances up every time he hears the door open, but each time no one brings colour in with them. By the end of the four hour shift he’s in an angry mood and ends up getting a chinese on the way home to ease his feelings.

He spends most of Friday doing the same thing, but on more than one occasion he catches Remus’ gaze and tries to act as normal and as aloof as possible.

That’s when he slices his finger with a cake knife, and spends the remainder of his shift with an angry Remus, a paramedic and a first aid kit.

Saturday, though, is a brand new day.

His finger’s been bandaged, the sun is shining and the weather report says it seems like summer is finally in the air with highs of twenty degrees (rather unusual for mid-April, though no one seems to mind).

So, James decides not to worry. The first few times the door opens he lifts his head up out of habit, but he forces himself to stop. It only makes things harder and the only way to make things better is to focus on something he’s good at, and that’s making darn-good coffee. He even starts humming again, dancing behind the counter to Wham’s Jitterbug.

Then the air stops again and he’s struggling to breathe. He’s staring at sunshine yellow walls and a black coffee machine.

With shaking fingers he reaches out to touch the bright yellow strokes of paint, thoroughly amazed. Then he swallows slowly, pauses the machine, and turns around.

It’s pretty busy; everyone wants ice coffees and smoothies so they can sit outside and bask in the warm sun before it disappears. There’s a group of girls nearest to the door, laughing about something James can’t quite make out. He glances at them one by one but none of them act any differently or give off any feeling. He scowls.

Whoever the person is, they have come back.

“Excuse me,” someone huffs by the counter and clicks their fingers at him rudely, forcing him to turn his head.

A student glares up at him, hands on her hips. Her hair’s an intense shade of red and for a second his heart stops.

“Instead of eyeing up girls could you do your job and ask me what I want?”

James rolls his eyes and swears under his breath. He doesn’t need this right now, annoying customers make him angry. Even if said annoying customer is pretty.

And he’s already angry; someone in this cafe right now is his soulmate. And they’ll go, just like last time. And the moment will pass and he’ll go back to the dull grey once again. He’s got minutes, if that.

The woman clears her throat, waiting.

“Alright,” he says, stomping to the counter, “what do you want?”

He doesn’t care that he’s being rude. She was rude first and he’s not in the best of moods right now.

“A medium mango smoothie to go. With only a handful of ice.”

James sighs, walks towards the fridge and looks for the ingredients. He doesn’t even try to hide the smirk on his lips when he notices they’ve ran out of the said fruit.

He turns around with a twirl and tries his hardest to put on a sombre facade. “I’m afraid we’ve run out of mango, terribly sorry about that.”

“Sure you are,” she hums and grabs hold of a menu, drumming her fingernails against the countertop in an annoying beat, “I’ll have…” she trails off, her nails still dancing as she pauses.

“Yes?” James taps his pen against the till, irritated.

“A medium iced coffee then,” she says finally, dropping the menu back onto the counter. “With only a handful-”

“Of ice, got it. And your name?”

“Lily. That’s L-I-L-Y. Not two L’s. Just one.”

He bites his tongue, of course he knows how to spell. How stupid does she think he is?

Remus is on the next till, serving the group of girls who had been by the door. James watches them curiously as he pours the coffee and ice cream into a blender. They’re all acting normal; there’s no spark in their eyes, no sign that they’re experiencing anything. They’re pretty he supposes, but he… he can’t connect.

Would there even be a sign? How can he tell?

His annoying customer clears her throat again and he refrains from rolling his eyes once more. The sooner he works on her damn iced coffee then the sooner she can leave and he’ll be able to try and find them, whoever they were.

A gruelling three minutes later he plonks the beverage down onto the counter.

“That’s £2.35,” his tone is icy and he wishes he’d spat in the stupid beverage as she bites down on the straw and gives it a small sip.

She hands him the exact change without uttering another word, then wraps two serviettes around the plastic cup before picking it up. She narrows her eyes at him and glances at his name tag.

“Thanks James,” she sneers, “great customer service.” Then she’s gone and he couldn’t be any more relieved.

He releases a long, hard breath and looks around the cafe again. The group of girls are leaving, chattering to themselves as Lily lags behind them; the small girl takes tiny steps as they move at a snail's-pace towards the door. The bell chimes and the group and Lily leave the building, a few other students following after her.

He blinks and the colour vanishes with it. James curses and kicks the counter irritably.

Sirius looks over at him in shock and Remus hisses at him to behave. His foot throbs, kicking hadn’t helped at all. And he’s just wasted all his time serving that annoying Lily as his soulmate had just been and gone again, and disappeared right from under his nose.

“So, let me get this straight…” Sirius leans against the table, his long legs stretching out as he cradles a cup of hot chocolate in his hands, “you experienced it and you didn’t tell me? Your best mate?”

James rolls his eyes, mouth curling slightly into a small smile. “It was painful, thank you very much. That much colour to suddenly look at? I had a blinking migraine for a couple of hours afterwards!”

Sirius lets out a thoughtful ‘hmm’ and scratches his chin. “Did you see who it was?”

He shakes his head. “It was too busy. And I had the worst customer too, she was a right bi-”

Remus pokes his head round the door. “Didn’t you notice James almost passed out on the floor? Honestly, I bet his S.M has already clocked on. You weren’t exactly discreet, mate.”

James chucks an empty milk carton and Remus dodges it, laughing like he’s on helium.

“You’re such an arse! It’s painful, okay?”

Sirius sighs dramatically and throws one hand to his head. The other hand reaches out, clutching hard onto James’ shoulder. “But it’s beautiful, right? Beautifully painful?”

“Yeah, go ahead and make fun. I’d like to see how you handle it.”

His friend shrugs a little and balances his teaspoon on his left pinky. “I have,” he says simply.

James chokes on the last few dregs of his hot vimto, catching Remus’ perplexed gaze.

“You have? When?”

Sirius stands there a little awkwardly, thrusting his hands into his jean pockets. “It was ages ago. I - we were only seven... we didn’t understand it much at the time.”

“Ruddy hell.”

James doesn’t know what’s more shocking - the fact that Sirius has a soulmate somewhere or that he won’t give away any more details about it. He just picks up his leather jacket, throws it over one shoulder and glances at James’ and Remus’ still surprised faces with another shrug.

“Are we running a coffee shop or what?”

He hates that he chose Biology, of all the sciences, to study at university. He’s already juggling football into the mix and classes start to interfere with his work. He finds he spends more time in the small staff room of the cafe than at the library or at Hogwarts Student’s Union. Plus, he can get free drinks here and put his feet up on the table.

That’s exactly what he’s doing when there’s a knock on the door of the break room.

“Mate,” Sirius knocks again, “I need back up. Remus has class.”

James folds down the corner of his page (anyone who claims they don’t do that is lying), puts his pen behind his ear and zips up his jeans (don’t ask). He’s checking his phone messages as he props the door open with his waist, an apology on his lips as he sets into the cafe.

He blinks and then he’s staring at that annoying customer he had the other day. She’s got red hair and she’s wearing a light brown top as she stares down at the menu. She glances up at the sound of the door and his stomach gives a little jolt when he notices her forest green eyes.

He’s struggling to breathe again, hands shaking as he runs his fingers through his messy hair.

His soulmate’s here and of course Annoying Lily has to ruin it all over again.

“Ah, if it isn’t Barista Of The Year,” she smirks.

Any nice thought is instantly replaced with every and any cuss word he can think of on the spot. He rolls his eyes, pulls down at his apron and glares at Sirius who’s taking her order.

“Be nice, mate, she’s a customer!” Sirius grins, “I’m sorry about Grumpy over there,” he jerks his thumb towards James, who’s now angrily ripping up a cardboard box, “he hates Wednesdays.”

He pulls his eyes away as he hears Lily give out a little laugh, glancing around to see if he can spot his soulmate. There’s about thirteen people and James swears under his breath.

“Make a cherry white hot chocolate for Lily, will ya?” Sirius throws him a bottle of water and James catches it swiftly with one hand.

Lily looks smugly at him, tapping her fingers against the counter expectantly. He’s just turned around, grabbing hold of the semi skimmed milk with a death grip, when he hears her clear her throat a little.

“I wanted to apologise for the other day,” she says with reluctance when Sirius coughs loudly, “I wasn’t in the best of moods and I took it out on you. So - sorry, I guess.”

“Isn’t that nice, mate?” James rolls his eyes again when Sirius claps a hand on his back. “Do you have anything to say back?”

He glances over his shoulder and gives Lily the stinkeye. “Apology accepted.”

She’s huffing, cheeks a little pink as she shakes her head, muttering out an ‘unbelievable’. He only turns around once her hot chocolate is made and he gives her a sheepish grin as he places it in front of her.

“I’m sorry too. I guess.”

Sirius snorts as he takes the order of the next customer. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? You’re lucky Remus isn’t here. He’d have you drawn and quartered for being rude to a customer.”

“I’ve got a few more things on my mind right now,” he murmurs quietly, cleaning up a little spillage with a tea towel.

“They’re here? Right now?” Sirius lifts his head in a very inconspicuous manner, eyes raking over each customer like he's in the mafia.

“Something wrong?” Lily asks as she sips at her drink.

“Hey, Lils. You know anyone in here?”

At Sirius’ question she turns around to look. “No one seems familiar. Why?”

“Well James -”

“No reason,” James stomps on Sirius’ foot, instantly silencing him.

“No reason,” Sirius echoes.

She hums, sliding over the exact change for her beverage before sitting down at one of the tables.

James glances around the cafe again.

Apart from Lily, there's a group of three girls over in the corner giggling at a laptop, a guy with a beard who's talking animatedly on his phone, two girls and a guy all collectively on their phones as they sit together (they’ve hardly spoken at all since they arrived) and a guy who must be about fifty five talking to a woman of similar age. Plus another five or so who aren’t even facing him.

He grimaces and scribbles down everyone's appearances in the margins of his notepad. This time he's not going to give up as easily.

After an hour the colour is starting to get too much to handle, he’s got a head-splitting migraine.

“I can’t,” he whispers to Sirius and shakes his head. He’s already threading his arms through his jacket. “I need to get out. Fresh air.”

It’s almost a relief to see the different shades of grey when he steps out onto the street. It’s empowering to know that, this time, he’s the one who’s taken the colour away. He lets out a sigh and kicks at an empty bottle on the road.

He doesn’t look back.

It’s Peter who notices the pattern first.

Wednesdays at three thirty, give or take a few minutes. Every Wednesday. There’s quite a number of regulars but, unfortunately for him, Lily is always showing up too.

“You make good coffee,” she shrugs the next time he sees her.

And the time after that Remus is there. It turns out the two share a class together and they spend hours talking about their essay that’s due in on Friday.

Her hair is always the first thing he notices, dangerously bold and enticing. He supposes she’s not so bad once you get to know her.

A couple of weeks later, Lily asks if James can read over her essay (apparently some people actually have their work checked, which is news for him) and he says yes in a heartbeat.

“Are you sure?” she asks as she places her laptop on a table close to the window.

James takes off his apron and throws it over the back of the chair. It’s a pointless question, since she’s already asked him the same thing about twenty times.

“Totally. But I’m a sucker for the oxford comma. Just a forewarning.”

She’s rolling her eyes as she takes out her purse. “What do you want to drink? It’s on me.”

He peels his eyes away from the screen and squints up at the menu. There’s no Remus today and that leaves Peter and Sirius behind the counter. The two snicker and goof around, juggling oranges and balancing milk lids on their noses.

“I’ll have a triple, venti, half sweet, non-fat caramel macchiato. Extra hot,” he says.

“Aren’t they a bugger to make?”

“The worst.”

“I’m about eighty percent sure Sirius spat in that,” she says when she places the steaming mug on the table next to him five minutes later.

He drinks it anyways (who would have thought such an obnoxious and hipster drink would actually taste pretty good?) and spends the remainder of the day sitting next to Lily. Her essay is impeccable, of course, and each time their arms brush against each other he gets a jolt in his stomach.

Having her at the cafe makes it a lot harder for James to liaise and spy on the other customers. Especially when she and Sirius bond over their love for marmite (how disgusting) during her next visit.

For some reason she’s eating toast and Sirius just blinks at her. “Is that marmite?”

The rest is history and she spends most of her visit that day cooped up on one of the high chairs. They chatter together about their marmite experiences for what seems like hours.

It’s becoming A Problem.

James slowly starts to notice how pretty her smile is. She always spends a good fifteen minutes or so deciding what on earth to order and, more often than not, changes her mind about three times.

On one occasion he asks her, “What do you want? What do you want?” to which she replies back with an exasperated grimace, “It’s not that simple,” then the two get matching, exhilarated grins as they both profess their love for The Notebook.

He’s almost used to seeing the colour so much now but a part of him dares to normalise the feeling, lest it vanish as quick as a heartbeat.

And it’s Wednesday again when a downpour brings in a mass of students.

Lily, yellow and blue spotted umbrella in her hand, is, of course, amidst the thrall. James isn’t even that surprised to see her anymore. Sirius is busy serving another customer, so he gives her a bright smile (which he realises isn’t actually that hard to do) and asks her what she wants.

“I’ll have a Pumpkin Spiced Latte.”

“One of those are you?” he asks, giving Lily a sly smirk as he starts to jot down her order.

“It’s good. Have you never tried it?”

He shakes his head. “Peter’s addicted to it, he made me try it once. Far too sweet,” he says with a grimace.

“That’s what makes it so delicious.”

He doesn’t understand how someone can have such strange taste buds - to think marmite, PSLs and white hot chocolates are all under the denomination of ‘delicious’. But hey - everyone has their own opinions, right? Even if it’s the wrong one.

He’s just turning around, ready to start making her drink when she sucks in a breath. He pauses instantly, already knowing by now what that little intake of breath means.

“What are you wanting to change it to?”

He can’t help but give her an amused smile, watching as she glares at the menu. Biting her chipped nails, fingers drumming against the counter-top. She looks like this is the worst decision she’s ever made.

“I can’t decide between a Pumpkin Spiced Latte or a Pumpkin Spiced Frapp.”

He blinks, “Well. One’s hot - you see - and the other’s cold.”

“Wow, thanks for that. I’d never have guessed.”

She’s smirking and she’s got such a contagious smile, he can feel his lips mirroring hers in seconds. She takes another three minutes before she slaps a fiver onto the counter. “A cold one. I’ll be daring.”

When he places the drink on the counter next to her, he rakes his eyes over the customers behind her. The same group of girls, the same elderly couple, the same bearded man. It has to be one of them.

He’s served them all before, each are nice and unique in character but it’s so hard to figure out which one it is. He’s even tried small talk, but every time he makes it personal they all shrink away. It seems like Lily is the only one in the cafe who ever bothers to talk. And, even then, it’s Sirius who she’s closer too.

He gets a message, phone buzzing against his thigh as he hands over Lily’s change.

Serious to Barista Of The Year (15:37) : stop flirting with customers ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

“I was not flirting.”

“You know,” Sirius, who’s lounging across one of the sofas with a history book pulled over his face, lets out a small sigh, “I didn’t believe you the first five times, so -”

“I’m only saying it so you know I’m telling the truth!”

Only now does Sirius peel the book away from his face. “Mate. Come on.”

“I wasn’t.”

“You are allowed to, you know,”

“I know I’m allowed to,” James scowls.

“Do you?” Sirius swings his legs onto the floor, his socks have dozens of little hamburgers all over them. “I mean… I know you’re - well - a romantic but having a soulmate doesn’t mean anything.”

“What about you?”

Sirius scratches his chin, refusing to meet his gaze. “What about me?” his voice is gruff.

“You never told me, your best mate, that you saw colour when you were seven. Seven!”

He merely shrugs. “I was seven.”

“Yeah. That’s what I mean. Do you still-”

Sirius shakes his head. “Nah, haven’t for ages.”

“What was it like?”

There’s a small period of silence.

Sirius runs a hand through his hair, then he takes a swig of water and flings the now empty bottle up into the air. He catches it with one hand.

“It felt - God, I dunno - natural? We had no idea what it meant, how could we? We were friends, that was it.”

James gets goosebumps.

“What happened?”

“With a swine of a mother like mine?” he snorts, “What didn’t happen. I never saw her again.”

“You could try finding her-”

He shakes his head. “Nah. Half the female population probably have the same name.”

“Jane.”

“No.”

“Sarah?”

“No. Can you stop guessing now?”

“Depends, will you tell me her name?”

Sirius rolls his eyes, but there’s a smirk on his lips. “Fine. Mary.”

James drums his fingers against the armrest of his chair. “I suppose it is quite a common name. There’s Mary Berry, Mary Poppins-”

“Mary, Queen of Scots.” Sirius adds, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “My point is there’s a heck ton of Mary’s out there. And after a while you get, well - you know.”

The annoying thing is that, even though Sirius hadn’t exactly said much, he did know.

It’s such a strange feeling, one you can’t really put into words. James had spent hours agonising over who it was, tearing himself apart to the point where he couldn’t sleep. And for Sirius to know her and to have gone through life hearing that name on people's lips, he doesn’t know how he can handle it.

It’s a gift, but one that eats away at your insides until it’s all but consumed you. Colour was something James desperately yearned for and whoever they were had the power to give it to them. Just like that, you’re made for each other.

He shuffles on his seat, fingers fluttering to itch at his backside (he does this sometimes when he’s nervous). Green emerald eyes flicker on and off in his mind, making his heart do cartwheels.

There were hundreds, thousands, of cases where people married someone who wasn’t their soulmate. You give up the gift, so to speak. Does colour really mean that much to you when you’ve got someone you love and who loves you back?

Sirius mentions something about needing to take a dump and waddles out, not before slapping the back of his neck with a tea towel. James flips him off and Sirius, like he has eyes in the back of his head, does one casually back.

James is left alone with just his thoughts. Thoughts of Lily Evans.

The next time she comes into the coffee shop she’s wearing a bright yellow anorak and James can’t help but think of sunshine, daisies and lemons.

She flashes him a smile, cheeks pink, and asks him how he is.

He doesn’t tell her how pretty she looks today, though the words are desperately wanting to run off his tongue and slide out of his mouth like jelly. He doesn’t say how happy he is to see her - how sometimes the prospect of a soulmate, his soulmate, is replaced with pictures of her.

“Not bad,” he bites, fumbling with the lid of a teapot, “you?”

“Better with the prospect of coffee. Can I get an americano, please?”

James makes a grab for a cup. “You do know how strong this stuff is, right?”

She dismisses his cautious gaze with a wave of her hand. “I’ll add four sugars, it’s fine.”

“You know what another name for an americano is, Evans?” Sirius asks, grinning like the cheshire cat as he leans against the counters.

“Do I want to know?”

“A Long Black. I kid you not.”

Lily purses her lips. “On second thought, I’ll have a latte.”

“Don't fancy drinking a Long Black?” Sirius asks, already walking off to serve another customer before Lily can say anything back.

“You can have a Long Black if you want,” James smirks, dodging Lily’s hand that goes up to swipe at him, “I won’t judge.”

“A latte is better. Thanks though. But I think americano’s have been ruined for me now, permanently.”

He doesn’t know why, but he takes his time making the drink. He wants it to be perfect and immaculate, the best latte she’s ever had before. So, when she brings it to her lips he doesn’t feel like he shouldn’t be watching her - he just wants to know how she likes the drink. For science.

“It’s really good. You’re really good.”

“You’ve got - err - a,” he gestures to his own lips, staring at her frothy milk moustache. Her hands fly up to her face immediately, and she spends a good two minutes scrubbing her entire face with a serviette before emerging out of it with a red, mortified face.

“Sorry. How embarrassing.”

Her smile has to be the sweetest thing he’s ever encountered. It makes him weak in his knees. “It’s cute,” he drops his own tea, hot water spilling onto his arms and over the counter, “bugger. I mean, it’s fine. Milk moustaches are cute, I mean.”

She smiles, “You’re sweet,” her cheeks are still crimson. “I mean, my friend would have just taken pictures. I love her to bits but, you didn’t even - didn’t laugh is what I’m trying to say.”

“I almost did.”

Then he laughs and he has to press a hand to his lips to stop himself.

She’s got constellations in her eyes, he could stare at her for hours and at each passing minute he'd find something new to marvel at. She’s a breathtaking view. Her phone vibrates against her mug and the two jump. She grabs for it, avoiding his eyes as she stutters out a hello.

“Mary! Sorry. I’ll be there in a sec, on my way,” she ends the call with a sigh and when she glances back up at him he has the strongest urge to kiss her.

“Sorry, I have to go,” she says, downing the rest of her latte. She plops the empty cup into his hands, swings her bag over her shoulders but doesn’t move an inch.

He should say something.

He should ask her if she’s okay with seeing in black and white for the rest of her life. Ask if she’s okay being with someone like him - someone who can’t give her colour. She bites her lip, ready to say something when Sirius barges past with a tray full of dirty cups and plates.

His feet falter when he glances at the two of them. “Sorry, did I just ruin a moment?”

James’ cheeks burn and Lily just clears her throat. “No. I have to meet Mary, my- uh - friend. Um. See you boys later.”

She turns around, almost running into the bearded regular man. She murmurs out an apology and has to wait as the old regular couple walk in front of her. Together the three of them leave the shop, vanishing along with the surges of colour.

James takes a shaky step back, stepping on Sirius’ toes.

“Watch it!”

“It’s them,” he says, breathing out heavily, muttering the phrase over and over again, “it has to be either the old guy or the lady. It’s official - I’m a marriage wrecker.”

“You don’t have to marry them. There’s no contract.”

“I know. But, Lily, she,” James groans and shakes a hand through his hair.

“She...?”

James blinks. She’s everything he’s ever wanted. “Er… she has a friend called Mary, didn’t you know?”

“I’ve met countless Mary’s. It doesn’t mean a thing.”

Is she in prison for murder? Did Walburga Black kill Sirius’s soulmate? That seems to be the only plausible explanation at the moment. It would explain why Sirius hasn’t met Mary since whatever happened happened.

He’s grabbing onto a bag of carrots when he gets that thought and he looks around the shop suspiciously. He’s only met Walburga a few times; the last being when Sirius, sporting his own bloody and broken nose, dislocated Orion Black’s jaw.

Barista Of The Year to Serious (17:40): shall i buy hummus

Serious has changed his nickname to Hummus Lover 2k19

Hummus Lover 2k19 to Barista Of The Year (17:41): what are u after

Barista Of The Year to Hummus Lover 2k19 (17:43): is ur mum in prison???

Hummus Lover 2k19 to Barista Of The Year (17:45): ….. i wish

He’s halfway through the doors of Tesco Extra, googling ‘why is my friend a dumbass’ when he bumps into someone and his phone drops to the floor.

“Sorry!”

“It’s fine!”

He’s already bending down, fingers reaching out to grip onto his mobile when he realises whose voice it is.

“Lily!”

It’s weird seeing her out of the cafe, without a counter separating them.

She’s smaller than he remembers and he’s actually able to see her shoes, which is extremely weird. She’s wearing black worn out dolly shoes, her hair wild and the shade of crisp red and orange leaves signalling the first sign of autumn.

Her cheeks are rosy. “James! Hi.”

A car passes by, splashing murky water all over his legs. “I bought carrots, celery and hummus.” He waves the bag he’s carrying.

She gives him a soft smile and pulls on her jacket. “I’m going to buy marmite.”

“Disgraceful.”

“How can you dislike it when you’ve not even had it before?”

“Ah - but how long is a piece of string, Lily?”

“However long it is when you buy it.”

He’s grinning and she’s smiling back, making his heart flutter and quiver.

Seeing her with the sunset behind her, lighting up her hair like she’s a part of the sky, makes him wonder why he was even so determined to find his soulmate in the first place. She’s quickly become part of his life, his routine and he never wants it to end.

His phone makes a PING sound and he forces himself to look away from her.

Hummus Lover 2k19 has changed your nickname to I Love You Bro

Hummus Lover 2k19 has changed his nickname to Please Love Me

Please Love Me to I Love You Bro (18:09): how upset would u be if i hypothetically just broke your teapot. Hypothetically

Please Love Me to I Love You Bro (18:09): btw whats that tasty thing your mum gets sometimes? not jalebi, the other one I Love You Bro to Please Love Me (18:10): …. gulab jamun also ??? what the frick sirius?? omw

He sighs and plops his phone into his shopping bag. “Hey, Lily. I got to go, Sirius is creating havoc at our flat -”

“Say no more,” she laughs, “see you later?”

“Definitely.”

It’s only when she’s gone into the shop, and he’s half way down the road, that he glances at the passing cars and realises he’s looking at dull grey.

He’s blinking, stopping dead in his tracks. Heart pounding a trillion beats per second against his chest. It hurts so much.

No no no no no.

He swishes around, almost toppling over a woman who glares and tuts at him before stomping away.

Was he hallucinating?

“Are you seriously asking me this?”

Sirius and James are on a fifteen minute break. They’re lying on the sofas in the staff room, spending their free time balancing water bottles on their foreheads.

“Yes.”

Sirius sighs, “No. I have never thought I was seeing colour when I wasn’t. Yes, I think you’re a moron.”

“I didn’t -”

“You're making up excuses, you knob. You know. You’ve been a blithering idiot ever since she set foot in the cafe.”

“All I'm saying is that there were a lot of people on that street,”

Sirius moves slightly and the bottle falls dramatically to the floor. “I know the Old Age Pensioner’s Zumba Class finished around six, perhaps it is the old lady with the moustache.”

Remus barges in, head ducking just in time as a water bottle flies across the room.

“What are two you doing in here? And why does it stink so bad?”

“Past your bedtime is it, Remus?” Sirius asks as he pulls James into a headlock.

“It’s past three thirty and it’s Wednesday.” Remus sends a curious glance in James’ direction, who immediately stuffs a cushion over his face. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Lily. Or it’s that old lady who grabbed my arse the other day, you know the one who always orders filter coffee and reeks of cotton balls,” says Sirius with a grin.

Remus leans against the door, shaking his head in amusement. “Well the old lady’s here right now. Why don’t you go and check, James?”

James gulps, feeling hot and sweaty even though he’s only wearing a t shirt and jeans. Sirius drags him to his feet and pushes him towards the door.

There’s not even a hint of colour. And no Lily Evans.

Panicking, he seizes hold of the closest thing, waving it in Remus’s face. “Look see. This is green.”

“That’s an egg, mate. Eggs aren’t green.”

“Dr Seuss would tell you otherwise. And how would you know, Remus? No offence.”

“But I do,” Sirius grabs for the egg, it twirls out of James’s hands and falls with a crack on the floor.

“I can’t believe you didn’t realise,” Peter tuts as cleans up the egg with a couple of cloths, “she’s been coming here for, how long? It feels like forever?”

“You looked like you were sea-sick each and every time. I never knew someone could get so affected by it.” Sirius muses, albeit smiling a little sadly as he pats James’s shoulder.

“Gee, thanks.”

“Maybe she’s just running late?” Remus glances at his watch, it’s almost four by now. Lily has never been late, not once. Dead on Wednesdays at three thirty (minus the Saturday when he first met her). James groans, he's such an idiot.

“Or maybe she got scared when she realised it’s James.”

A customer comes towards the counter and Peter takes one for the team, jogging towards them with a bright smile on his face.

“This is Lily we’re talking about,” Sirius shakes his head with a lopsided grin, “she's obviously crazy about him.”

“Well I don't see her. So I guess your premonition is wrong.”

It’s exactly what James was scared about ever since this whole mess started.

The colour dissolving, squeezed out of his life like water in a sponge, and knowing who it is makes it all the more unbearable. That freaking Lily Evans (the annoying customer turned tolerable acquaintance turned low-key crush turned soulmate) was it all along.

Only one good thing seems to come out of this mess, and that’s that he’s finally able to pay more attention to his classes - and actually submits his latest assignment in on time instead of seven hours later like his last one.

McGonagall has to pull him to one side after a lecture, asking him if anything is wrong.

There’s a hole in his heart, as cliche as it sounds, and the whole damn thing’s like ecstasy. He’s got no idea how Sirius can even manage, because now it’s been in his system he’s desperately wanting it all again.

Two weeks quickly become four and James longs to see her again.

So, at the first opportunity he gets, he taps in Sirius’s code on his phone (the same four digits he has for everything - even his bank code) and has only just opened up his contacts when he hears the sound of biker boots against the hardwood floor.

“Is there a reason why you’re using my phone?”

James Potter looks like a thief in the dead of night. “No. Hah! What - oh, this is your phone? I had no idea.”

Sirius crosses his arms. “No reason why you’re scrolling like a mad man through my L contacts either, eh?” he says with a winks and pops a strawberry into his mouth. James lets out a dejected sigh.

“I don’t have Lily’s number. Sorry.”

“You both joined the freaking Marmite society,”

“Rightly so, it needs more love.”

“And you don’t even have her number?”

He shakes his head, “No.”

Realisation dawns upon him, a glorious and ethereal light bulb flickering on inside his head. He glances up, a smile pulling on his lips. “You both joined the Marmite society.”

Sirius looks uncomfortable. “Yes… but you hate marmite.”

“I love it. Best damned thing since sliced bread.”

“You'll hate it. We only joined so we could get the free jar, but meetings include eating marmite toast so it's not exactly your cup of tea.”

“I'm going to that meeting, you can't stop fate.”

No matter how many times Sirius tries to talk him out of it, James’ mind is set. It’s a brilliant plan.

“It’s an awful plan,” Sirius says for the twentieth time, “we don’t even know if she’s going to be there.”

The words fall short on deaf ears as the two of them make their way to the mini meeting room, tucked away in the far corners of the oldest part of The Hogwarts Students Union. The strange society is made up of about twelve people and, he’s remaining optimistic, Lily’s not there yet.

Marlene McKinnon, a mature, final year Law student, seems to be in charge of the whole society, as she stands about by the toaster with a pack of bread and ten jars of marmite surrounding her.

“You guys just sit and eat toast on marmite?” James hisses as Sirius shuts the door and makes his way to three people who are sat on the nearest couch.

“I did try to tell you.”

Frank Longbottom introduces himself to James, and the first thing he says is that he’s gone through ten jars of marmite so far during his lifetime. Luckily the door opens, stopping all further conversation which involves James having to lie about loving marmite.

Luckily the door opens and colour crystallises before his very eyes as Lily Evans comes barging into the room.

She stops, eyes immediately drawing to James and Sirius who both give her a small, guilty wave. She bites her lip, hand reaching for her bag strap which she squeezes hard once. Then, like she’s lost a battle she knows she can’t win, stomps towards the sofa before plopping down opposite him.

Her hair’s the shade of cinnamon sticks and her green eyes sparkle. Sirius waggles his eyebrows when she throws one leg over the other and leans forwards to them, a smirk on her bright red lips.

“I didn’t know you liked marmite, James.”

His throat’s dry. “Not like. I love it.”

“Every marmite lover is welcome!” Marlene places two plates full of marmite-spread toast in front of them and James has to gulp down a retch. “As our newest society member, you can take the first bite.”

He's got thirteen sets of eyes on him and Sirius has to stuff the sleeve of his leather jacket in his face to stop himself from sniggering. Lily watches him with a small expectant smile. It makes his stupid heart flutter and before he knows it he's grabbing at the toast and stuffing it into his mouth.

It's disgusting, so salty on his tongue that his eyes start to water. But no one else seems to notice, they're all too busy grabbing the toast like vultures to notice, and it’s only Lily’s eyes which still hang onto him and she cocks her head a little to the side. He must look a right state, with the taste of rotten garbage in his mouth and tears streaming down his face because she smiles.

He's never going to get used to it; it's euphoric, a tingling sensation all the way from his head to his fingertips.

“Alright?” Sirius asks.

Emmeline Vance produces a jar of vegemite from her bag and, as a society, they collectively decide to hold a tasting session during their next meeting. Dorcas Meadows hands everyone a Marmite Soc t shirt and, thanks to Bellamy Blake (who made sure they printed out more t shirts in the high hopes that the society would grow), James is given one too.

“I'm in love,” he whispers. Because, crap, he really thinks he is.

Staring at green eyes, seeing Lily’s red lips curve and her hair, like cherries, roses and the setting sun. Sirius shuffles besides him and James is only vaguely aware of murmuring voices around the room.

There’s a tap on his shoulder, the meeting’s over.

He just catches a brief glimpse of Lily’s red cardigan swishing out of the door before he’s springing to his feet, grabbing hold of his bag and telling Sirius, whose white t shirt and dark blue denim jeans are now a dull grey, that he’ll meet him later. He doesn’t even wait for a response.

His heart’s pounding, a dull but excited and throbbing ache that shoots up from his toes like pins and needles.

James has never felt anything like this, the intense desperation - eating him up and consuming him. He pushes past a group of students, a sorry tangling between his lips before he’s tripping over a backpack (honestly- who leaves their bags sprawled out like that?) and flying out onto the floor.

“What are you like, honestly.”

He knows that voice, and a surge of colour comes floating with it. It’s happened so many times now, the change not quite instant but more like paint sweeping onto a canvas - bringing everything to life.

His eyes flutter open, then closed.

Lily is standing above him, grinning, a hand on her hip as she shakes her head and sighs. Then she’s reaching out her hand and she’s the first sweet sounding note of an entrancing melody, just one small trickle of spine tingling laughter and he’s floating.

He realises this is the first time he’s ever touched her hand and he grips onto her that little bit tighter as she pulls him off the floor.

“Alright?” she asks when his feet have hit the ground.

Now that he’s found her, he’s not exactly sure what he should say. Words fail him, not for the first time, and somehow he feels ten times smaller under her intense gaze.

“Fantastic. Yourself?”

“Not sure yet.”

“Oh,” he says, immediately bringing a hand up to ruffle his hair.

She kicks the bag out of way, sniffs and wipes her nose with a tissue. It’s flu season and he hates being ill (almost as much as he hates marmite) but the prospect of it doesn’t seem too bad when she’s here in front of him. Red, runny nose and all.

She sets off walking and his feet follow - like she’s the biggest flame or source of light and he’s just a moth, so entranced that he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He loves seeing in colour but there’s something about her, the way she stands out like paint pastels on a plain piece of paper.

“I err -” he clears his throat and itches his nose, “how have you been?”

“Busy.”

She stops at the small cafe located on the first floor, Puddifoot's, and asks for an Earl Grey tea. When her hands are sprawled around the take out cup, savouring the heat that flows through her fingers, and she’s sipping at the hot beverage she gives him another look.

“Classes were giving me hell so my friend, Mary, and I decided it’d be better if we spent our time here. Her boyfriend always has early lectures so he saves us seats when it’s busy.”

James nods, “What’s the coffee like here?”

“Disgusting,” she grins, a slight blush on her cheeks, “but it’s cheap and convenient.”

“You even have a loyalty card with us, this is treachery.”

“Yeah, but I still need five more drinks before I get one free,” she laughs and his heart soars.

They set off walking out of the students union, towards a plethora of wild flowers scattered over overgrown grass, a couple of wooden benches knotted into the greenery. She plops down onto one of the benches, sighing happily. She reaches into her bag to grab some torn bread, throwing it into the pond facing them.

There’s only one duck in there, which the students of Hogwarts University quickly nicknamed The Giant Duck as it’s abnormally larger than the average british duck.

He takes a deep breath and plunges into the unknown, of what he really wants to say.

“I, err, I thought you might have been - well - avoiding me.”

“To be honest, I thought I was too. That and this cold has been a nuisance.”

“Oh,” he scratches his nose and stuffs his hands into his jacket, “you should get some lemsip.”

“I wanted to, but apparently you have to be sixteen and over to buy it and I forgot my passport so the cashier wouldn’t let me buy it.”

“I could get it for you-”

She shakes her head, “Oh no, you don’t have to do that.”

“It’s like, what, three pounds? I honestly don’t mind.”

He’s already standing up, sputtering that her health is the most important thing when she grabs hold of his arm. He pauses, frozen.

She sighs, “Look. I don’t want anything to be, uh, awkward between us. Okay?”

He stops, numbly allowing her to pull him back down on the bench. Their legs brush against each other but she doesn’t move and inch. “Why would it be awkward?”

“I thought you knew.”

His heart skips a beat and he chokes. “What? You… you knew?”

She smiles, biting her lip to stop herself from grinning. “Err yeah.”

“Since when?” his head’s woozy, fingers shaking.

“Since the beginning,” her voice falters slightly, “that day I panicked and heard Remus calling your name. And I fled. Then on the Saturday I was, well, curious?” Only now does she turn to look at him, staring deep into his eyes. He's transfixed. “I only realised once I'd left that your name was the same.”

“But you kept coming.”

“Can you blame me?” she laughs and he feels ablaze.

“Guess not,” he shrugs, “I don't think anyone has enough willpower to ignore it.”

“Yeah,” she takes a sip from her tea, “and I thought you knew, I swear. But then at Tesco you didn't say anything and I realised you didn't. I panicked, that's why I didn't come back, partly. Sorry. You must hate me.”

“I could never.”

She looks so uncomfortable and he's helpless.

He wants to reach out for her hand and never let go. Like she hears his thoughts, she scrunches her fist into her pocket.

“The thing is… I made a promise to myself at a young age that if I ever did see colour I wouldn’t let it control me.”

The Giant Duck quacks loudly and James, who’s been sat on the edge of his seat, waiting anxiously for her to speak, jumps at the sound. She grins, blowing her nose again.

“I want to be able to make my own choices, James. And not be influenced.”

“Okay,” he blinks.

“So I decided I needed to take a break from it all.”

“If you err, if you don't mind me saying,” he pauses, waiting for her nod to continue, “you're saying you don't want it to be in control but it looks like you're letting it.”

“I dont-”

“Running away from it, even if you don’t want it, isn't that just fear?”

“It’s not exactly that simple,” she says.

“I know it’s not,” he gulps, a never ending shiver running up and down his spine. He’s trembling. “But, aren’t you even a little bit curious?”

The sun glows, and, under the deep orange rays she looks ten million times more radiant. He doesn’t care about cliché, he doesn’t care about anything else - only her.

She doesn’t want the colour, the myth of soulmates influencing and breathing down heavily on them. She smiles at him in the moment, moving forward, reaching out her hand so their fingers thread around each other.

And then she’s blinking, inching just that little bit closer towards him. She’s been chewing gum, he can smell peppermint as she breathes out and his eyes flutter closed in seconds.

Even with his eyes shut tight, he can still see colour. It’s more intense and vibrant than he’s ever known it, and he feels her lips place a chaste kiss on his.

It’s red and green, bursting into fireworks and butterflies alike, making his toes curl. He knows she’s feeling the same way, because she shivers against his touch and, when she rests her forehead against his and he has the strength to open his eyes again, she looks just as mesmerised.

He’s never felt more alive.

#jily #jily fanfic #jily au #jily fic #hiddenpolkadots #snapslikethis #gxldentrio #lilyevane #meraudurs #cupcakeblake #jiilys #bantasticbeasts #alrightevans #padfootdidit #IM SO NERVOUS ABOUT POSTING THIS OMG #its my first soulmate au plz be nice #my fic #jily:fic

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shippingtheswann · 7 years

Photo

MODEL BEHAVIOR A Captain Swan modern AU by @shippingtheswann for the @captainswanbigbang 2017 year!

SUMMARY: Emma is an up and coming model living in LA with her best friend Ruby. Killian is a star baseball player for the LA Dodgers. Their families are close - and they grew up together. However, what happens after not seeing each other for 6 years - when they are forced back into a situation that requires them to reconnect and explore what was once there.

RATING: Explicit

WARNING: There will be smut later in the story, some mention of violence, hard language, mention of pregnancy loss

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

First, I want to say sorry for some confusion. I have horrible pregnancy brain as I near the 36th week of my pregnancy. I thought Wednesday was Friday this week, so I accidentally posted the story early. My little one must have been just too excited and couldn’t wait for the story to go live. My normal posting will be on Fridays from here on out, except a few weeks right after my girl gets here. I can’t wait for everyone to read this.

I started this story right after I found out I was pregnant, so hopefully everything makes sense, as parts of the story were written during heavy morning sickness and very little sleep. I am due at the end of September, so be prepared for a few weeks of no updates while I tend to my new little one! I am so thankful to CSBB during this experience - as my third FF, it was amazing to get feedback and have so much support.

Special shout out to Monica @acaptainswaneternity - the artist with this story. I have loved everything she has done for me - so make sure to check her out! She made an amazing cover and the best image sets for each chapter. I will add in links when I get them to her own posts. Make sure to go and show her love.

Another huge shout out to Nicola @alocin209 who beta read everything and tried to keep me on target (she had to deal with a lot of random sentences as my pregnancy brain really went into effect). Without her, the story wouldn’t be the same!As always, reviews are wonderful and really help!

Can also be found on FF - Chapter One

For someone who seemed to have her whole life together, everything seemed to be falling to shit. She had been getting enough steady gigs lately that she was able to quit her job as a waitress and focus fully on her modeling. Being a model in LA wasn’t the easiest job in the world, mostly because you never actually had a steady paycheck. She loved modeling though. She loved the friends she made and she actually really enjoyed being in front of the camera. Yet even though she had a job she loved that was now bringing in a steady paycheck, her life was falling apart.

Just last night, she walked into her apartment, the one she shared with her boyfriend Neal, the one that she actually paid for, to find him in their bed with Tamara, another model they knew. The scene she had walked into made her physically ill. Never in her life did she ever expect to be betrayed in the way she was. She spent that night at Ruby and Lacey’s apartment, drinking multiple bottles of wine and deciding that in the morning, while Neal was at a shoot, she was going to get his shit out of her apartment and wash her hands clean of him.

However, now that she was packing up the apartment - well, throwing his crap in garbage bags and ignoring the hundreds of texts she was getting from him - she knew for a fact that if she didn’t get out of LA for a while, she was just going to forgive him and things would stay the same as they are now. She always had a feeling that Neal was cheating; they had been together for two years and throughout the whole relationship she never felt like he was being truthful with her. She never thought that she would physically catch him in the act. But even knowing what happened, she still knew that she would eventually go back to him. He was all she knew. She had to clear her head in order to get over him and over his shit.

“I can’t believe you are really going to go back home,” her best friend Ruby said from her closet. It was seriously the best part of her apartment. She would sleep in there if her bed wasn’t so comfortable.

“I have to get away from all this bullshit Rubes. If I don’t, then it will happen all over again.” Emma never thought she would be the one to stay with a cheater, but something inside of her told her she would forgive Neal if she didn’t give herself room to heal.

“Emma, you know you could just go to Palm Springs or San Diego. You don’t have to schlep all the way to Virginia to get away,” her friend pleaded.

“Mom’s been bugging me to come home. Plus Henry’s graduating from high school in a few days and I haven’t seen him since I moved out here. I wasn’t going to go - you know I hate home - but it really is the best place for me to be,” she replied.

She knew Ruby wouldn’t really understand it. Lacey would never cheat on her, not in a million years. Ruby would never know why Emma needed the distance she needed. Plus, maybe it was finally time to go home, to truly face what happened six years ago.

“Alright babe, but I’m gonna miss you!” Ruby smiled as she placed a few more outfits in Emma’s suitcase.

“What are you going to do while I’m gone?” Emma asked, trying to change the subject. She was done talking about Neal and her trip. She was done - period.

“Lacey and I have two gigs, but other than that I’ve picked up some shifts at the diner,” Ruby said, a secret look flashing across her face.

“Why? Does Granny need help?” Emma asked. Ruby’s grandma runs the diner they all used to work at. Emma didn’t really want to quit the diner, but at the same time, she didn’t want to be a waitress for the rest of her life; she wanted to focus on her career. Ruby had quit a few months before her. They had a few other friends who worked there, but none of them were as successful in their careers as Emma had become. She didn’t quite understand why Ruby would be needing to work again at the diner.

“No, I’m actually trying to save some extra money,” she said shyly. Ruby was never shy.

“Why? Ruby, what’s going on?” she asked. Ruby was never this coy about something.

“I am going to ask Lacey to marry me!” With Ruby’s confession, Emma’s jaw dropped. She had known Ruby and Lacey each for almost six years, since she moved out to LA. They had been a couple for four of those years, but Emma never thought she would see them get engaged and married. Their relationship was new for the both of them; they had only had boyfriends before. Emma could see the love they shared for each other though. It was just Ruby and Lacey had both said marriage wasn’t something they wanted in their lives.

“Oh my God?! Really?” Emma couldn’t hide the shock from her voice.

“Yes! I never thought I would feel this way. We’ve actually been talking about it for a while now. I just feel it’s time. There is no one else in the world for me.” Ruby’s voice cracked at her admission, the love pouring from her mouth.

Emma couldn’t help but start to cry at her friend’s love. She thought that one day that would be her and Neal. She thought that she had the same thing in her life. She was excited for her friend - 100% - but she was still really upset over what had happened. She knew it was petty, but she also knew Ruby would understand.

“Oh Emma, I’m sorry!” she apologized, even though no apology was needed.

“No, I’m sorry Ruby. I am so excited for you! You guys are the perfect couple! I’m just still angry over Neal. I mean, we were all just talking about when Neal and I would get engaged,” Emma cried - for the last time she swore to herself.

“Hey, if I ever see Neal again, I will crucify him. I literally want to take every knife and fork and just graze them over his body until he slowly bleeds to death. I hate him for what he has done to you!” her response got a well deserved laugh from Emma - finally brightening the mood she had been stuck in.

“God Ruby, you are way too descriptive!” Emma laughed.

“Granny always said I should have been a writer,” Ruby added cheerfully. “Come on, let’s get your perky ass packed so you don’t miss this flight. The sooner I drop your ass off, the sooner you’ll be back here.”

———-

Emma’s flight was leaving at eleven, which meant she needed to be there before nine. It didn’t leave her a lot of time to pack up Neal’s shit, pack her bag and drive to LAX from West Hollywood. All of this on a Thursday morning as well! It definitely wasn’t going to be easy but Emma felt good now that they were traveling in Ruby’s bright red mustang, top down and her hair floating in the wind.

Fate must be paying her back for the shitty night she had, because traffic was light and they made it to LAX with almost 30 minutes to spare.

“Alright so Lacey is meeting with the locksmith now. Neal’s shit is on the front porch so when you get back, all of this will be history,” Ruby reminded her as they unloaded Emma’s suitcase onto the curb of the terminal. Emma took her friend into a tight embrace.

“Thanks for everything Ruby,” Emma sighed. She wished that even though she was running from her problems again, she could bring her best friend along.

“Of course Em. Besides, this getaway will be good for you. Now, get your ass on that plane and have a good time. We both know you’re going to be back in three weeks, you have no choice!” her friend winked.

Ruby had spilled her plan for the proposal as they were speeding down the 405. She was going to propose to Lacey at Ruby’s grandmother’s house, a month from now. She already had the ring picked out - she just needed the down payment, which was why she was working those extra shifts. She told Lacey she was just helping Granny out since a girl quit. Ruby wanted everyone they were close with to be there and of course a huge party would follow.

Ruby and Lacey were so similar. Both girls were the quintessential party girls; they knew how to hold their liquor, knew how to dance til the early morning hours and knew how to have a good time. When they first got together, Emma remembered the whirlwind year that followed the start of their relationship. They were all out till the wee hours of the morning almost every weekend. However, in the last few years, things have calmed down. They were still both hilarious and filled with life though.

But there was something else that Emma had to come back to LA for. Emma was taking a huge loss in pay thanks to this extended trip home (she made a mental note to try and get some rent money out of Neal for this shit). She had a lot riding on her upcoming go-see two days after she gets back. It would be her biggest one yet. Ruby and Lacey were also going on the go-see. Emma couldn’t help but be nervous - this would make or break their careers - or at least it felt like that.

Emma had been a model for a few major companies over the past two years, but it was her newest contract with Michael Khors and Monique Lhuillier that had allowed her to take a break from waitressing. Now, she would have the opportunity to actually walk a runway. It was something that had alluded her in the past. Sure, it wasn’t during fashion week, and yes, it was for the Victoria’s Secret fashion show but, she still saw it as a step ahead for her career. She was pretty sure they would give Ruby the job over her, but she was still excited for the opportunity.

“I’ll see you in three weeks. You know I’ll be texting you every day, keeping you updated on my crazy family,” Emma replied, with nothing but the truth. Ruby lived for Emma’s crazy stories about her family, especially Emma’s eccentric (the only word Emma could nicely use) step-grandmother. If you could even call her that.

“Oh thank God you are seeing the Evil Queen! That woman is off the charts!” Ruby yelled, pulling Emma back in for another hug.

“Alright, alright. Let me go. Besides, I think you are about to be ticketed,” Emma said, looking at the cop who was walking towards the women. Ruby just flashed her a smile.

“Please, you know I could get out of that ticket easily!” she said in a suggestive tone, but returned to her car.

As she pulled away, Emma waved goodbye to her friend. At least one person in her life was happy.

———-

She always loved traveling, which was a major perk of modeling. Emma couldn’t explain the thrill she got when flying, but she loved being up in the air. The whole experience was amazing, from the check in, to the boarding, to the actual flying, Emma just loved traveling.

When she checked in, she did get a bit of a laugh from the face of the ticket agent. Yes, Emma was a model, and yes, she was good looking, but Emma prided herself on being a strong and independent woman. So when she lifted her giant suitcases onto the scale, the ticket agent was so surprised that Emma lifted the 70 pound bags with ease, especially when he had issues moving the baggage to the conveyor belt. The surprise on the attendant’s face was just what Emma needed to lift her spirits back up after Ruby drove off.

It took her about an hour to get through the TSA line, even with her pre-screen pass. She didn’t mind the wait. Instead of being angry at the lines and inconsistency of the TSA, she took the time to people watch. She spent a few minutes watching a family on their way back home from Disneyland. Emma really loved when parents allowed their children to continue to dress up as their favorite characters, even in public. There was a little girl with her hair in a long, thick braid, wearing her Rapunzel dress proudly while she walked around with her parents. It had been a long time since Emma had seen a set of parents as happy as the parents who were with the girl. They were beaming at their daughter who was singing “I see the light”.

She also watched a couple in a fight. It hurt at first to watch them, reminding her of what she had dealt with for years. She hadn’t wanted to think of Neal during this trip, yet watching the couple bitch over their friends involvement in their personal lives made Emma’s mind wander to her own relationship.

How could she have allowed herself to be in a situation like that for so long? She started out happy, enjoying getting to know Neal and just having fun. She wasn’t sure when things started to get bad, but all she remembered was one day she woke up and she wasn’t quite happy anymore. They had started fighting a lot, over stupid shit too. She remembered one distinctive fight, where Emma was pissed he wanted to wear sweatpants out to dinner with their friends. They spent the night apart, with a drink being thrown on her head and Neal calling her a bitch. Why they even stayed together after that was a mystery, but for another year she put up with his shit, until she had had enough. As she looked back to the couple while she moved through the line, she hoped they wouldn’t see the same fate her relationship had.

By the time she made it to her gate, she had an hour before boarding, so she got a bagel (a bit of a splurge on her end, since she mostly kept a strict diet) and decided to catch up on her newest book. She loved reading, but she especially loved reading those poorly written smut books. It was like putting her brain in a coma. She got peace from reading the plotless and poorly written words. To her, it was like watching horrible TV shows; she was able to just read it and forget everything that was going on in her world.

It worked, and before she knew it, they were calling first class boarding.

Normally, she wasn’t one to travel first class. When she traveled for work, they always put her in coach with the other lower models. There were only a few times that the companies would splurge for first class seats, but Emma didn’t care either way. She still got frequent flier miles, which she was using today to get home. Seeing as how she was traveling home, not exactly her first choice of destination, she might as well splurge and be nice and relaxed on the flight.

As she boarded, she noticed she was the only one seated in the area, which was an additional bonus. She could drown out everything around her, get lost in her book, and try not to have an anxiety attack about why she was going home.

“Ms. Nolan, would you like some champagne? Maybe a Mimosa before we take off?” the leggy stewardess asked as Emma took off her jacket and handed it to the woman. It was the one thing Emma constantly wished she had. She was tall, but not as tall as some other models, which made entering the runway world difficult. She would kill for long gorgeous legs like her stewardess had.

“Yes, please,” Emma replied, as she slid into her seat to watch the baggage carriers load up the luggage into the plane.

It had been six long years since Emma moved out to LA and left her life in DC behind. Six years since her heart had broken. Six years since she ran from her troubles.

———–

Six years ago

Graduation day was supposed to be one of the best days of her life. She thought it would be a day she would look back on years from now and remember all of the good times she had in high school. She wasn’t the most popular, but she had friends who meant the world to her and who supported her.

Her mother was excited to throw this party for her. Any chance for her mother to throw a party, she took. She swore that her mother was a queen stuck in a different time. The woman lived for parties and events like this. Their backyard had been transformed into a summer soiree. The ladies were required to wear giant hats and dresses and the men were to wear seersucker suits. Yes, this was supposed to be a party for Emma, but her mother had once again gone way over what Emma wanted.

Emma wasn’t so excited for the party, but she was excited for who was going to be attending the party. She looked over at a couple who were standing next to her mom and dad. Both of them tall with dark brown hair. Adelaide and Brennan Jones had moved into the house next to the Nolans when Emma was eight. They had two sons and one daughter. Their eldest son Liam was over near the swingset that the Nolans had put up for Emma’s younger brother. Their daughter, Aibhilin, was sitting down at a table eating the chicken her mother had catered for the event. However, Emma wasn’t excited to see them. She was excited to see their middle child.

Killian was 4 years older than Emma and had been away at college during Emma’s run at high school. She would be lying if she said she didn’t have a bit of a crush on the guy. He was gorgeous, but his heart and soul were what attracted Emma to him for the past few years.

Normally every Christmas Killian and Liam came home for, the two families would get together for a Christmas Eve meal and White Elephant game night. For the past three years, Emma had always sat next to Killian and he was always so interested in what she was doing and how her life was going. Conversation between them always flowed easily. Emma loved hearing his stories of college in the crazy city of Vegas. She was enthralled with his tales of college ball and his team’s road to victory at the previous year’s college World Series. Emma remembered the year before when her dad gave Killian the cold shoulder a bit because his team had beaten her dad’s team in the finals by one run in overtime.

This year though, Killian was unable to come home for Christmas. It gutted her to see the seat normally reserved for him empty next to her. Yet, she was relieved when she got a message from him on AIM a few days later apologizing for missing what he called “one of the best things about coming home”. He didn’t explain why he wasn’t able to come home, just that he missed her and he hoped her year was going well. He asked about her plans for after graduation and asked how Henry was doing. They spent about 3 hours that night just talking about things they would have talked about at dinner and it was amazing.

They had spent the past five months having conversations every other day; just talking about anything and everything. He helped her with college applications and she helped him write his final for his Shakespeare class. She knew he was surprised when she gave him insight into A Midsummer Night’s Dream; she could tell even though they were miles apart. Their conversations started innocent at first, but about a month in, they turned a bit flirty.

Killian would ask her about her love life and when she said she didn’t have anyone special, he said something that had Emma thinking. A friend wouldn’t just tell another friend (one who grew up next door to you) that you deserved someone who would devote their life to you, someone that knew how amazing you were. It was during that conversation that things began to change, at least on her end. However, she didn’t think it was one sided. Whenever she flirted, he flirted back.

About two weeks ago, he dropped the bomb. He was actually going to be coming home for her graduation. He almost didn’t get the weekend off, since his team was in the World Series again and it was during the semifinals, but the schedule worked out so that he was able to take a two day trip home to see everyone. He had some big news he had to tell her and she had been on pins and needles ever since.

Her nerves didn’t really get the best of her until that day and her friends took notice. Of course they already knew a bit of what was happening, but they didn’t really understand how Emma had fallen in love with a guy who lived thousands of miles away, while only talking over the internet.

“Emma, come on, we are going to sneak over to the Jones’ yard and do some shots,” her friend Lily whispered to her.

“You know I can’t leave,” Emma retorted. Yes, she wanted to have a good time with her friends, but she didn’t want to miss Killian’s arrival. He had told her two days ago he would arrive around noon, but it was now 12:30 and Emma was getting worried.

“Come on Swan, he isn’t showing up,” she heard Lily’s boyfriend Victor say. She hated it when he used her nickname her friends gave her when she was young. She had always thought that name was reserved for her closest friends and Victor was not one of them. He was just some fuck boy that Lily was screwing around with until she left for college.

“Shut up Victor,” she said under her breath.

“Emma, he isn’t going to show up in the two minutes we take to sneak over and do a few shots,” Lily pleaded.

Emma looked at her friend, who had been with her since they were young. Lily knew Killian, knew of Emma’s crush on him, but she didn’t know that Emma was head over heels for Killian, didn’t know that Killian had something to tell her. And even though Emma wanted to stay in her yard, with her eyes trained on the backdoor, she decided that maybe if she didn’t focus on Killian, he would show up.

It’s like when you are at a restaurant. If someone gets up to go to the bathroom, your food will come quicker. However, if everyone waits at the table and stares at the waitress, the food seems to take forever to come.

So off they snuck into the Jones’ backyard to have some shots. Emma wasn’t really a drinker, but she found herself drinking more when Lily was around. It started out small enough, a drink before the homecoming dance the previous year, a few drinks at a party after junior prom, but this year the drinking with her friends had been taken to a whole new level. Normally, Emma didn’t really participate, willing to be the DD while everyone else got shitfaced, but today was different. Today, maybe she needed the liquid luck.

Lily was right - they were only gone a few minutes and Emma was hopeful that Killian would be waiting in the yard when they got back. She was heartbroken to find out he still wasn’t there.

The rest of the party went in similar fashion. Emma waited and waited for Killian to show up. About once an hour Lily begged Emma to come and have another drink. She again said she didn’t want to miss him, but by 4, she realized something. He wasn’t coming. It was in that moment that she said fuck it and decided to get drunk. It was the first time Emma actually got drunk and it was in the tree house Killian used to play in as a child.

If her parents knew she was drunk, they didn’t say anything. But that didn’t stop her mother from patronizing Emma every chance she got. “Emma you really should mingle with your guests”, “Emma, stop sitting around and smile”, “Oh Emma is moving to Los Angeles at the end of the week, she is going to study at UCLA.” She loved how her mother completely ignored her real reason for moving; to pursue her dream of a modeling career. But to her mother, modeling was a silly hobby. The only way her parents would help her move was if Emma also enrolled in college. At least her father kept trying to get her mother off her back.

If anyone knew anything, they didn’t say it. Instead, most of the party guests just ignored Emma and her friends. She knew Lily was trying to lighten her mood, but Victor was just being an ass. By 6 Emma was done, done with the life she was living, done with her mother’s condescending tone, done with her friends, and done with Killian Jones.

As she entered her packed room though, she knew she wasn’t really done with Killian. He had hurt her by not showing up. He didn’t call her to tell her he would be absent from the party. However, maybe he did try to message her. Her computer was thankfully still unpacked, so she turned her away message off and took a look at their running messages.

Her heart dropped when she saw that there was nothing. He hadn’t cared at all. Sure, the thought passed through her mind that something had happened to him, but his parents didn’t seem concerned. Truthfully, it didn’t matter to her in that drunken filled moment. All that mattered was he had promised her that he would be there and he had broken that promise.

She started typing out the message. The final message she would ever send to him.

“Jones, why aren’t you here? Why didn’t you show up? What the fuck is going on? You promised me you would be here, promised that I would have some support today, yet you couldn’t bother to show up. How dare you play with me like this. Screw you asshat, don’t bother talking to me ever again.”

She hit send before she could talk herself out of it. She ended their friendship in that moment, unwilling to hear any apology he had to offer. She promised herself in that moment that never again in her life would she allow herself to feel this heartbroken again.

———-

She hadn’t thought about that moment in a long time, but the mimosa she had just chugged forced her to relive that horrible day six years ago. She had allowed herself to feel something for someone and that person broke her heart. It took her four years to rebuild herself after that devastating day. Sure, she hadn’t been in a real relationship and sure, Killian wasn’t her boyfriend, but she felt so betrayed that day. She had allowed herself to depend on him, allowed herself to believe in him and all it brought her was disappointment.

And now, here she was again, running away when something bad happened. Neal had played with her heart and emotions just as Killian had. Neal had definitely done worse by sleeping with a whore, but it still reminded her of the pain she felt with Killian.

She also knew it was stupid for her to even compare the two. Killian had never really played her, at least not truly. But he never did reach out to her again, never tried to apologize. She had always felt really stupid for even hating Killian the way she did, but he had become her best friend in a matter of months, then suddenly dropped off the face of the Earth. Didn’t she have the right to be pissed, to be heartbroken, to hate the jackass that made her question the other relationships she had in her life?

Thankfully, the stewardess brought her another mimosa. At least she was pretty sure Killian wouldn’t be home for the summer. Her mother did let it slip once last year during their mandatory monthly phone call that Killian hadn’t been home since that last Christmas meal they all shared together.

Normally, Emma steered the conversation with her mother away from the going ons at home to what Emma was doing, even if it meant that Emma had to hear the disappointment in her mother’s voice about Emma’s job choices. As long as she didn’t have to hear about the Jones family, she didn’t care.

The boarding procedure had passed and the stewardesses were beginning to close the cabin door when she heard someone yell out “Wait!”

For the first time since getting on the plane, Emma actually watched what unfolded in front of her. A man rushed aboard the plane, sunglasses and a baseball cap covering his face. He was dressed in dark washed jeans and a leather jacket, which seemed stupid considering the LA heat. The hat was of course the local team’s hat, almost everyone wore one once in their life if they lived there. He handed his ticket to the attendant who motioned him to to sit down across the aisle from Emma.

Shit, she thought to herself, she was hoping to be alone up here and now someone else was joining. He was across the other side of the plane but still, she didn’t want to have a discussion with some stranger on a plane.

The man shrugged out of his jacket, showing off an amazing set of arms in a dark t-shirt and sat down next to the window. His hat and glasses were firmly attached to his face.

Looking at his profile, Emma suddenly felt different. It was like she knew him from somewhere. Maybe she modeled with him once, maybe he had been a customer at the diner. She couldn’t really tell or place him. But something in Emma’s gut was telling her that she knew the man in the glasses.

The stewardess made one more round as the plane backed away from the gate. It was as the woman was passing by her fellow first class flyer that she was finally allowed to determine where she knew him.

“Mr. Jones, is there anything I could get you?” the stewardess asked, prompting the man to remove his glasses and hat, revealing the man she hadn’t laid eyes on in over 7 years.

#CSBB #Captain Swan Big Bang #Captain Swan #captain swan fan fiction #Captain Swan FF #CS FF

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betweenpaperpages · 7 years

Text

A Silence

Summary: Belle finds her apartment far too quiet while reading.

Beta: @ishtarelisheba & @standbyyourmantis Note: Sequel to “A Request” (AO3)

Find it on AO3.

Belle heard a silence.

A silence that was quite unusual for the time of day that it was. Her eyes flicked down to her wrist, rolling it over to read the hands on her silver watch, 8:45 pm.

When she had sat down in the balcony to read that evening she had no reason to believe that anything was wrong in any kind of way, however; after having to go back and re-read the last five pages of her book (for the third time) she knew something was off.

She sighed, snapping her book shut, the sudden noise bringing her to the realization as to just what was missing: music. She had been reading for nearly an hour in utter silence, for a librarian one wouldn't find it odd but she was at home, not the library.

Perhaps her neighbor was gone for the night? Belle stood up, leaving her book behind to lean on the railing, pushing up onto tip toes to crane her neck for a look at their balcony. Everything seemed to be as normal as usual, including the opened window, but there was certainly no sound drifting out.

Her weight settled back down on her heels with a huff of disappointment, she really did enjoy the music that they played, she hadn’t realised how accustomed she had become to it. A glance back to her book confirmed it to her, without the usual soundtrack of the music, she wasn’t going to be able to focus on her book.

Perhaps tomorrow.

________________________________________________________________

With summer coming to an end September had begun to settle into Storybrooke on its heels. With it also came the cold mornings that gradually heated up to pleasant afternoons before cool evenings settled in.

Belle wasn’t one to really rely upon the newspaper or weather reports; when you lived in a small town you usually caught up on it fairly quickly, it was a go-to conversation piece. The library had seen a rush of patrons that afternoon, some getting out of the winds that had picked up and others checking out books to read in case power was lost.

Through the afternoon the storm had picked up and was continuing to get more aggressive, the winds picking up and the rain crept in to cover the town, starting with a drizzle and building itself up.

Belle had thought when she left the library she’d make it home in time before the worst of the storm hit, however; the storm decided to prove her wrong.

By the time that she had reached home she had been soaked through to the bone, no thanks to her umbrella having been blown inside out. She was in deep need of a hot bath and at least one, if not two, cups of tea.

So much for reading on the balcony tonight.

________________________________________________________________

The following day didn’t fair much better, the harshest part of the storm had passed over the town but the rain still lingered on. Rain pattered against the library’s windows, combined with the soft light, it gave the space a very cozy environment.

Too cozy, at one point Belle found herself sitting at her desk, a hand resting against her cheek trying to prevent herself from lolling to sleep. Truly Wednesdays had to be named the most uneventful day of the week around their town.

With the weather still being gray and cold that evening there wasn’t really a chance to read on the balcony that night. If the weather continued to get bleaker and bleaker as quickly as the storm had swept in Belle knew she was going to have to find a new reading habit for the cold months.

Since the outside nook would be out of the question she simply had to create one inside of her apartment that would suffice.

Under one of the windows in the living room she pulled out a old futon mattress she had stored away for guests, folding it in half so it rested against the wall. A quick search of some still unpacked boxes she had lead her to extra bedding, wrapping the futon in a fitted sheet helped along with a couple of knit blankets and a few throw pillows.

With the reading nook tucked into the corner of the room it still gave a full view of the sliding glass door to the balcony offering somewhat of a view. The only thing that was left to do was to break it in with a book, though with a glance to the clock showing that it was already 8:30 PM it was clear that there wouldn't be any music that evening to accompany her.

Maybe another day.

________________________________________________________________

Belle was sure that Ruby could find an excuse to celebrate or have a night out on any day of the week, it really was a hidden talent. Her excuse this time? It had been officially four months since Belle moved to Storybrooke.

She had rolled her eyes at the idea of it, most people didn’t celebrate a “move-in-anniversary” as Ruby called it, but she couldn’t see the harm in it. It would shake up the mundane of the week and the off way she had been feeling the last few days. Maybe a girls night out on the town was just what she needed.

There would be music at the Rabbit Hole.

________________________________________________________________

One benefit of living in a small town was that most people knew everyone and if there was someone you didn’t know, it was most likely that you knew someone who did. Sure, there were people who would stick their nose into other people’s business where it didn’t belong, but it came with the territory.

Since the library was open regular hours Monday through Thursday, Friday and Saturday were short days to accommodate other activities. Most visitors on Fridays were returning books and Saturday followed with study sessions held by the local high school students.

Belle didn’t mind the six day work week since two of them were short, giving her the chance to be out of the library typically by two in the afternoon, giving her the rest of day for whatever she need to take care of.

She took care of a few errands around town, making sure she had a chance to check in to the local thrift shop. There really wasn't a bookstore in town since the library took care of most of their needs but she always enjoyed picking up something new to read. Sure, she could order just about anything online but why not rescue an unwanted book?

While she was collecting her finds a white china cup caught her eye, the dish was elegant with soft curves, gold detail, and a simple blue tree design painted across it. It and its saucer had been set off to a side shelf as if someone had considered purchasing it at one time and changed their mind at the last minute.

Something about the design called out to her, in a way it reminded her of her neighbor’s music, soft and delicate without being harsh or complicated. It didn’t take a moment more before she collected the piece to add to her finds.

- - -

Belle hummed as she headed downstairs to the lobby of the complex, playing with the ends of her blue scarf as she stepped off the last stair. Her lips spread into a smile at the sight of their mailman at the wall of boxes or mail-woman more so.

“Hey stranger!”

“Hmm?” The tall, lanky red-head stood up from where she was knelt down over her carrier bag, looking over to see who was speaking.

“Belle! Stranger indeed, I haven’t see you around!” Ariel laughed, throwing her arms around Belle in a brief hug. “What are you getting up to today?”

She took a step back to jingle her mailbox key in front of her. “I’m on the adventure of collecting mail, though, it looks like we are on the same journey.”

Ariel giggled, holding up a bundle of envelopes as evidence, “Almost, I mostly have delivery today. Doesn’t seem like there is a lot of out-going today.” She ran her finger down the silver doors to double check the numbers before opening number twenty-nine with her master key, tutting at the lack of space in the box.

“Belle, have you seen your neighbor from twenty-eight at all this week? Mr. Gold? His box is so full I haven’t been able to drop off anything in at least four days now.”

“Actually, I’ve never meet him before. I haven’t heard anything at all this past week which is really odd.”

Ariel sighed with a glance back at the box. Typically at this point she would have to leave a message in the box that there was more mail and it would have to be collected at the post office. Only meaning that she had dragged around extra weight in her carrier bag for no reason other than to show it around town.

Belle already had her mail box open as she pulled out a few slim envelopes before glancing over to see Ariel perched on it like a bird, her eyes wide and hopeful.

“Yes?”

“Belle, could you do me a favor and drop these off to him? I really don't want to have to drag them back down to the office, please? And you know, make sure he hasn’t dropped dead or anything?”

She simply blinked at Ariel with a deadpan expression across her face before holding out her hand for the stack. “I’m sure if he was dead I would have noticed by now Ariel.”

Ariel squeaked as she handed over the mail, “You are the best!”

- - -

When she had originally agreed to take her neighbor’s mail to them, Belle hadn’t realized just how much there was. Ariel ended up sticking her with two boxes and three stacks of rubber band envelopes along with her own to take back up. The boxes were more heavy than they were awkward, though Belle couldn’t help but wonder just what was inside them.

She set the packages down in front of her neighbor’s door, hesitating for a moment as she bit her lip. She had been listening to his music for a while now but she had yet to introduce herself in a way it just felt — wrong, almost like intruding on someone’s privacy. Belle knew his music far more than she knew him. Before there was a chance to change her mind she quickly rapped her knuckles against the door, the sound echoing down the empty corridor. Was their building really so quiet?

The sound of some scuffled papers and a chair moving could faintly be heard beyond the front door before a husky, accented voice called out, “Just a moment!”

A few more ruffles of paper sounded through before the door cracked open enough to let sound pass through, but certainly in no manner was Belle able to see inside of the living space.

“Yes?”

“Oh! Um, hi Mr. Gold? It’s your neighbor Belle, Belle French.” She bit her lip in hesitation again, blinking at the solid mass of the door she was speaking to. “From apartment twenty-seven?”

A heavy cough sounded from the other side, causing his accent to deepen when he spoke again. “Yes, you are the new librarian, correct?” A sneeze echoed through the apartment behind him followed by a few sniffles.

Belle nodded in agreement for a moment before she caught on, clearing her throat from the delay. “Yes, I am.”

“Apologies, Miss. French I’d introduce myself properly but I’m rather ill. I’d rather not pass it along. What can I do for you?”

“I didn’t mean to disrupt your rest, I’m sorry. It's just that I was getting my mail and Ariel, the mailwoman, had quite a bit for you. She asked if I could drop it off since your mail hadn’t been picked up for a while.”

A warm laugh passed from Mr. Gold and Belle couldn’t help to wonder if he possibly sang with his music at all. She hadn’t heard him before, did he sing with or without his accent?

“Oh I’m sure it's rather piled up, I’ve been expecting quite a few things from work. Would you do me a favor dearie and leave it next to my door?”

“Not at all! Is there anything else I can do?” Belle moved the boxes over some more, out of the door’s swing and placed the pile of envelopes on top. “Do you want me to pick you up anything? Chicken soup? Apple pie? Bottle of whiskey?”

Gold let out a deep chuckle at her offer, his laugh spurring him into another coughing fit. “No. No that’s quite alright. You’ve already done enough, thank you Miss. French.”

“You’re welcome... If you do need anything though, feel free to knock on my door anytime. If I’m not at home I’ll be at the —”

“The library.”

Belle giggled, her lips pulling into a smile. “Yeah, I’ll be there. Feel better soon Mr. Gold.”

“I already do.”

- - -

Belle couldn’t shake the smile off her face as she wandered into her own apartment, dropping her keys off on a side table along with her mail. It was the first time she had properly spoken to Mr. Gold, sure everyone around town had their own opinion of him, but they did so with everyone else. Small towns always created gossip of some kind, she was sure if they didn’t most residents would die of boredom within a year of living in one.

Even if Mr. Gold was a familiar face around town, no one really seemed to know much about him, perhaps that was the reason there was so much speculation. People were simply trying to fill in the missing pieces of information.

She was a firm believer the best way to get to know a person was to simply ask them about themselves, however; that didn’t seem like it would happen any time soon, not with how ill he was feeling.

Belle huffed, settling her hands on either of her hips, her gaze wandering her space. Seemed that it would still be a while yet before music started drifting into her apartment again, not until Mr. Gold was feeling better.

She had hoped he would take her up on the offer of help but she wasn’t going to push the matter. She glanced around one more time, her eyes coming back to the side table where her keys laid besides a basket she kept her mail in, where just next to it sat the china cup she had found earlier that week, her lips splitting into a smile.

Okay, so perhaps she couldn’t push her help on him, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t wish him well. Belle was sure she could handle the silence a little while longer.

- - -

A while later more knocks were rapped against the door of apartment twenty-eight for a second time that day. Instead of a neighbor delivering a over-stuffed mailbox simply sat a filled basket. Inside rested an assortment of teas, a book of music, honey dipped spoons, and in the center a very delicate white and blue tea cup.

#A Silence #Truth in Music #Rumbelle #OUAT #Belle French #Mr. Gold #Ariel #OUAT AU #Once Upon A Time #Fluff #Music #BetweenPaperPages #AO3 #Writing #Fan fiction

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kpopfanfictrash · 7 years

Text

No Strings (VI)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Jimin

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 4,004

Summary: It started off as such a simple question. How to know if you’re bad in bed? Of course when you asked, you didn’t imagine Jimin would actually answer.

You end up cancelling your date with Sungmin. Hungover and struggling to cope with the idea of romance, you ask if you can move your date to another night. Sungmin, being the perfect gentlemen, agrees to take you out to dinner the next night. The fact that the night happens to be a Sunday does not even faze him. You do not kiss him goodnight on Sunday, even though Sungmin lingers but you tell yourself it is too soon. Too soon – all the while knowing this makes zero sense. You and Jimin decided to be, well, whatever the two of you are in just a matter of days.

This is dangerous territory you are in. You cannot help but wonder as things progress with Sungmin, at what point do you call things off with Jimin. You have been avoiding Jimin since last Friday, when he took care of you after drinking. At first, you had an excuse. You spent all of Sunday working at the office. Then, you were out with Sungmin and did not have the time to respond to any of Jimin’s texts.

Now, though. Now, it is Monday and you are quickly running out of excuses to see him. When your phone buzzes, you swipe without thinking, nearly choking when you see the PDF. It contains full detailed results from a lab, along with a message from Jimin.

Jimin: Told you I was clean. 😉 [3:25 PM]

Your cheeks heat reading the message, realizing what he has sent. Jimin is right about one thing; he is completely healthy.

Y/N: I can see that…. [3:26 PM]

You sent Jimin your test results a week earlier, as soon as you both decided this was something serious. It was easy to do, seeing as you had just gone to the doctor a couple of weeks prior.

Jimin: Anyways. Happy Monday, talk to you later [3:28 PM]

That is it. He does not send another text and you stare at your phone for more than a few seconds before starting to laugh. It becomes necessary to clap your hand over your mouth, and Namjoon sends you a message through your computer.

From: Namjoon

Sent: 15:28, Mar 10

What are you laughing at?

From: Y/N

Sent: 15:29, Mar 10

Nothing, nothing

From: Namjoon

Sent: 15:29, Mar 10

Hm. Are you in for this weekend?

From: Y/N

Sent: 15:30, Mar 10

Maybe? What’s this weekend?

From: Namjoon

Sent: 15:31, Mar 10

Didn’t Minsun tell you? We’re going… *drumroll* please

From: Y/N

Sent: 15:32, Mar 10

… are you waiting for me to drumroll?

From: Namjoon

Sent: 15:33, Mar 10

PAINTBALLING

From: Y/N

Sent: 15:34, Mar 10

wow sounds like an awful idea

From: Y/N

Sent: 15:34, Mar 10

...I’m in. LOL

From: Namjoon

Sent: 15:36, Mar 10

Excellent. I’ll send more info later this week but we’re thinking Saturday

From: Y/N

Sent: 15:37, Mar 10

Cool, just let me know

Sitting back at your desk, you resume working but your gaze keeps darting to your phone, which remains silent. For the past few days, you have been trying to push the events of last Friday to the back of your mind. In many ways, you are aware the two of you crossed some unspoken line. Jimin should not have taken care of you like that; that is not fuck buddy material, that is boyfriend material. That, combined with whatever you did or did not say which had Jimin acting all weird. Whatever it was, it has been driving you crazy.

Jimin still will not say. More worrying though, is the fact that you are bothered as much as you are. You should not care if this thing ends between the two of you, since this arrangement is purely physical. You do not care, you tell yourself; the only reason you are upset is because Jimin is your friend and if this ruined your friendship, you would be sad. Sinking down in your seat, you continue to stare at your phone.

You need to cool off. Jimin is becoming too permanent in your life – a fact which is understandable given the circumstances, but you cannot make the mistake of thinking he is your boyfriend. Jimin felt obligated to take care of you when he heard how drunk you were over the phone. That does not mean he cares about you any more than a friend.

Jimin is a good person and him helping was not surprising, but how much you think about that night is. Your thoughts continue to drift to the feel of his hands on your back, that look of concern in his eyes. You keep remembering him the next morning, making you breakfast and insisting he drive you home.

He did not hit on you once, which is not at all what you expected. That is what your arrangement is, after all – sex. The confusion has been overwhelming, which is why you are taking the coward’s way out and avoiding him entirely. You need space, so as to not get confused about what this really is.

Most of the week passes this way. Jimin occasionally sends you a text; each time, you respond to him vaguely, giving him short answers which do not inspire further conversation.

Jimin: did you watch Sense8 yet?? [Tuesday, 8:48 PM]

Y/N: nah, not yet [Tuesday, 8:55 PM]

Jimin: oh, okay [Tuesday, 8:56 PM]

Jimin: seokjin is making puns again [Wednesday, 7:06 PM]

Y/N: and the sun is hot [Wednesday, 7:09 PM]

Jimin: I’m not even in the same room. He’s just making them out in the kitchen to himself [Wednesday, 7:11 PM]

When he sent this to you, you snorted, almost texting back a full reply but catching yourself just in time.

Y/N: lol that’s Jin [Wednesday, 7:14 PM]

The freeze out pains you, especially since Jimin does not text much after that. He is silent all of Thursday, even though you check for new messages continually. It seems Jimin can only be blown off for so long before he gets the hint.

You do not go out at all that week, returning home each night rather than risk running into him. Your friends happen to be Jimin’s friends, which means he could be at any event. Jimin does not like you romantically, things are purely casual between you and in order to keep it that way, you need to take certain precautions. All of this falls apart at the end of the week though, when Namjoon organizes a happy hour and will not take no for an answer.

“Come on, Y/N,” he says, seated across from you at lunch. “We haven’t seen each other all week. You have to come out.”

Rolling your eyes, you take another bite of your sandwich. “I know,” you sigh. “Things have just... been busy lately.”

“With work?” Namjoon’s eyes narrow. “I thought your big presentation was yesterday.”

You pause, fiddling with your straw. “Right,” you stall. “Yeah, I guess things are less crazy now.”

“Then come out with us,” Namjoon declares. “Sungmin will be there. We’ve kind of bonded, he’s a really good guy.”

“Yeah,” you say, nodding dutifully. “He is.”

Namjoon studies your expression. “You don’t like him.”

“What?” Startled, you look up in shock. “What makes you say that?”

Namjoon lifts a brow, taking a large bite of pasta. “I don’t know, you just don’t seem all that excited about him.”

“I am,” you say, a tad defensive. “Sungmin is a great guy.”

“True,” Namjoon agrees, chewing. “But so are a lot of people. You don’t date someone because they’re a good person. It’s something more – something about how you two are together.”

Not meeting his gaze, you stare down at your plate. “Yeah. I guess. Anyways,” you shrug. “It has been awhile since we’ve hung out.”

“The longest,” Namjoon says. “Come out with us tonight.”

“Fine,” you say, smile returning. “I’ll come.”

“And you’ll come to paintball?”

“And I’ll come to paintball,” you laugh. “Geez, plan my entire weekend why don’t you?”

Namjoon grins. “Hey, someone has to pick up the slack. I can drive us if you want tonight, I’m not planning on drinking.”

“Sure,” you agree. “I’ll just drop my stuff off at home and meet you at… 8:00?”

“Perfect.”

Around 7:50, Minsun take one look at what you are wearing and points at your bedroom. “Nope,” she declares, shaking her head. “Absolutely not.”

“What’s wrong this this?” you ask, pulling the shirt away from your torso. You have dressed simply tonight in a tunic, jeans and flats.

Minsun purses her lips. “You look like my mom dressing for Casual Night on the cruise.”

Mouth ajar, you simply stare. “What, I – I don’t even know how to respond to that?”

Minsun laughs, walking into your room. “Never fear,” she grins. “I’m here to save you. Minsun, keeper of fashion, at your service.”

Rummaging through your closet, she pulls out a skirt and top.

Your eyebrows shoot way, way up. “Nope. Just no.”

Minsun throws them onto your bed. “Come on, Y/N,” she whines. “What’s the point in having these, if you never wear them?”

Stepping closer, you run a thumb over the fabric. “But… the skirt is so short.”

“And so cute!” Minsun sounds excited and you start to laugh, shaking your head before scooping them off the comforter.

“Fine,” you groan, walking into the bathroom. “I’ll wear them. But if I fall and everyone sees my ass – that’s on you.”

“I’m fine with this,” Minsun chirps, sitting on your bed. “You have a great ass, doubt anyone would be upset.”

Ten minutes later, you stand outside your apartment, staring anxiously down the street and tugging down on your skirt. It is too short – navy blue, flared to mid-thigh and your top is tight as well, one of those off-the-shoulder ones that are so popular right now. You bought the entire thing on a whim, not sure when you would wear it but wanting the option. Minsun even got you to wear heels, although you are already regretting this decision.

Namjoon pulls up to your door at 8:00 on the dot, rolling down his window to let out a whistle. “Damn, Y/N!” He grins. “Where’d you get that outfit?”

“That’s it,” you say, attempting to turn around. “I’m changing.”

Minsun grabs your arm, dragging you back towards the car. “Oh no,” she says. “There’s no way you’re changing – we’re already late.”

“No, we’re not,” you protest, entering the car through the passenger seat.

“Wow.” Namjoon shakes his head. “Sungmin is going to die.”

Muttering under your breath, you slide down in the seat. “Thanks.”

Namjoon turns up the music, prompting Minsun to cheer. “Turn it up,” she yells, leaning over the console and pressing the volume button.

He rolls his eyes when the loud pop song fills his car, but you catch Namjoon mouthing along to the lyrics every now and then. Laughing, you sit up a bit straighter. As the song comes to a head, you find yourself growing more excited despite yourself. The week has been hell, if you are being honest. What with working all day Sunday and the giant presentation on Thursday, you could do with a night out.

The response you get upon entering the bar is satisfying; even you have to admit that. Seokjin’s mouth drops to the floor. Minsun is forced to punch his bicep before he goes back to normal.

“I’m sorry,” he laughs, grabbing his drink. “It’s just Y/N normally dresses so… cardigan-y. It’s strange to see you dressed like this. Good strange!” he clarifies, seeing you frown.

“Yeah, well.” Crossing your arms, you look down. “Enjoy the view, it’s a one-night show.”

Namjoon leans across the bar to grab a drink the bartender has just made. “Cheers,” he grins, slipping you a vodka soda.

At the sound of his voice, the person on other side of Namjoon turns. When your eyes meet his, Jimin nearly drops his drink. “Fuck,” he blurts, voice oddly strangled. He is staring at you, not even trying to be subtle before he sees Namjoon looking. “I mean – uh. You look nice, Y/N.”

Namjoon cracks up, doubling over with laughter. “Damn, Y/N,” he says. “You’ve even got Jimin sweating. Have mercy on us all.”

Swallowing, Jimin scans your body again before looking away. You cannot help but smile, so pleased that you almost do not notice when Sungmin appears by your side. “Wow, Y/N,” he exclaims, eyes wide. “You look amazing tonight.”

Trying not to protest, you take a sip of your drink. “Thanks,” you smile, glancing up at him. “You look great, too.”

He does. Sungmin is dressed tonight in a black t-shirt and jeans, all of it looking effortless and cool. A few strands of hair fall over his face and it seems as though he wants to say more, but then Minsun squeals, interrupting the moment. When you glance sideways, intending to catch Minsun’s eye, you see Jimin instead.

He stares at you and Sungmin, drink clenched tightly with his lips pressed together. Before you can react, Minsun is pulling you out towards the dance floor. “Come on,” she says, yanking you forward. “Let’s dance! Namjoon! Seokjin!” She waves. “Get out here!”

Though they grumble, Namjoon signs the bill and waves at the others. Minsun spins you around, raising both hands above her head as you join in, laughing and swaying your hips to the music. It is a bright, fun song – one you think Minsun has played in your apartment before. Whatever the name is, you jump along to the beat. It is not a song which requires dance skill, just an overall level of enthusiasm.

Seokjin is the first one out on the floor, bopping along with mostly his shoulders. Head moving every which way while Minsun cracks up and grabs his face to kiss him. Namjoon comes next, all legs and arms while nodding sharply to the beat. The rest are not far behind – everyone but Jimin, that is.

Your breath hitches when an arm slides around your waist.

“You’re avoiding me,” Jimin murmurs, quietly pulling you against his body.

You swallow, realizing the song has changed from upbeat to something much sexier. When you look around, you see Seokjin is now dancing with Minsun. Namjoon is talking to some girl in the corner, and Sungmin is nowhere to be found. This leaves just you and Jimin, his head bent so low his lips nearly touch your ear.

“I...” You swallow, shaking your head. “I’m not avoiding you.”

“No?” Jimin turns you to face him, hands sliding low on your back. “Then what was up with your texts?” he asks, arching an eyebrow.

His hands start to move, pushing your hips against his. “I was busy,” you breathe, narrowing your eyes. “I have a life, you know.”

Jimin laughs, the sound of it dark. “Right,” he murmurs. “You also didn’t come out this week.”

“Like I said, I was busy,” you exhale, looking away. “What do you care, anyways?”

A muscle ticks in Jimin’s jaw. “I don’t,” he says. Not waiting for a response, he turns you around. Jimin pulls you roughly against him, hands sliding down while his hips cup yours from behind. His hand is pressed flat to your stomach, holding you to him. “I thought you were... mad at me.”

Head falling onto his shoulder, you let your hips match his. “I’m not mad,” you say, relaxing into him. It feels so good like this, having his hands and his body on yours.

“Good.” Jimin slowly raises both your hands to drape around his neck. “Did I say you look beautiful tonight?” he murmurs into your ear. “Every head turned your way when you walked in.”

“That’s not true,” you breathe, distracted by the way his body moves with yours. “Although, I did see you almost drop your drink.”

Jimin laughs, hands sliding even lower. “What can I say?” he mutters. “Your fault.”

Eyes falling shut, you stop talking and get lost in the feel of him, the touch of his hands. When the song comes to an end, the next one begins. This time it is rap, a completely different vibe than before and Jimin’s hands slowly fall from your frame. When you step to the side, head spinning, you realize what you are doing.

You are dancing with Jimin, letting him give you those compliments – and all of this in a public space. “Excuse me,” you mutter, pushing past towards the bathroom.

Throwing open the door, you toss your now-empty cup in the trash and lean both hands to the sink. It is too early to be drunk and besides, you are not – so, what the hell are you doing? Dancing with Jimin, letting him hold you the way that he did. All while your friends are here, all while Sungmin is here – wherever he is.

The door opens, nearly hitting the wall. “Hey!” Minsun chirps as she enters. Her head is bent over, searching through her purse. “Need to freshen up my lipstick,” she explains. “I love this shade but damn, it lasts an hour tops.”

Forcing a laugh, you straighten to face her. “Yeah, that’s the worst.”

Minsun unscrews her tube. “So,” she says, glancing sideways. “What was all that?”

“What was all what?”

Minsun raises both eyebrows, lining her lower lip. “You and Jimin,” she clarifies. “I haven’t seen you two dance like that since... Hm. College, probably.“

Purposefully avoiding her gaze, you bend to wash your hands. “I guess. Jimin was drinking and I wanted to dance…. you know how it is.”

Minsun shrugs. “If you say so. I don’t think Sungmin saw,” she adds, answering your unspoken question.

“Oh.” Staring into the sink, you turn off the faucet. “Right.”

Minsun watches you in the mirror. “Y/N, do you like Sungmin? You don’t have to, of course,” she adds quickly. “I know I kind of forced this on you.”

“No you didn’t,” you say, grabbing a paper towel. “Don’t think that. It’s just – ah, I don’t know. Sungmin is great,” you allow, offering a weak smile.

Minsun grins, walking towards the door. “Yeah. But other people are great, too.”

“Oh, yeah?” You give her a look as you reenter the bar. “Like who?”

Minsun’s gaze travels to where Jimin is talking to Namjoon. Your eyes follow, then widen. “No,” you choke, shaking your head. “Just nope.”

“What?” Minsun raises both hands. “You two just looked so cute out there, I thought…” Trailing off, she shrugs. “Nevermind. Forget what I thought.”

Seokjin appears from behind you, holding out two drinks. You accept one eagerly, focusing on Minsun. “Nope,” you reiterate. “Definitely not.”

Minsun grins, leaning forward so Seokjin will not hear. “Also – did I say cute? I mean hot as hell. Damn, girl,” she laughs – and then she is gone, tugged away by Seokjin and leaving you alone.

Staring at the darkened floor, you wonder if Minsun was the only one who noticed you and Jimin – the two of you were not exactly being subtle. Tossing your drink back, you close your eyes and wonder if you broke another one of the rules. No one is supposed to find out about you two.

It did not seem like Minsun actually suspected, though. She is just too sharp for her own good and, head buzzing, you accidentally jump when a hand brushes your elbow.

“Hey,” Sungmin smiles at your side. “Want to dance?”

“Sure,” you say, allowing yourself to be pulled forward.

From the corner of one eye, you see Jimin take notice. He sets his drink down on a counter but by now it is too late, you are already out on the dance floor. Sungmin’s arms pull you forward and you recognize he smells nice. He is nice, incredibly good-looking and looks at you like he genuinely cares. You should be happy to be here.

Instead, you find yourself thinking of Jimin.

Funny you should mention him, because all of a sudden Jimin appears behind you on the dance floor. He is not alone though, and when you see who he is with, you freeze against Sungmin. It is Victoria. You did not even know she was here but there she is, laughing at something Jimin said while looping both hands around his neck.

Cold, hard jealousy envelops your stomach. Recognizing its tang, you duck yoru head. It is hard to banish the this feeling but you try your best, because Jimin has every right to dance with Victoria. You cannot be mad when you are standing so close to him with your arms around Sungmin. He smiles at you, pulling you nearer and you try to focus on him, instead. You try to focus on the gorgeous guy before you, but your head keeps moving sideways.

Jimin grabs Victoria’s hand, pulling her off the dance floor and you stare in shock at his retreating back. His white shirt is bunched around his shoulders. You remember the feel of your fingers curled around his neck, his lips at your ear. It was only minutes ago. It seems like much longer.

Heart pounding, you turn to face Sungmin. It is hard to put a finger on your chaotic swirl of emotions, staring up at him. “Are you ever going to kiss me, Sungmin?”

His eyes widen. Sungmin stares at you for a briefest of seconds before smiling, hands sliding under your chin to lift your face to his. His kiss is brief, sweet and you find yourself enjoying it; everything should be perfect, but for some reason, the entire thing feels wrong. It feels as though you are doing something you should not be. The confusion only grows when he pulls away.

Sungmin’s hand brushes the nape of your neck. “Was that okay?” he asks, voice low.

Managing a smile, you nod. “More than okay.”

On the inside, you are screaming. It seems it is impossible for you to be happy because when Sungmin kissed you – you felt nothing.

“Would you just – I need to ask Minsun something,” you stammer, pulling free.

Though Sungmin’s brow creases, he nods and you turn quickly away. Upon reaching the front of the bar, you stop to look around. Seeing no one you recognize, you push open the front door. Beyond it is an empty street and you sigh, jumping when a hand closes over your arm.

“Hey.” Namjoon turns you to face him, concerned. “What’re you doing?”

It is cold enough you let the door fall shut, following Namjoon back into the bar. Not for the first time, you wonder what you are doing because Sungmin kissed you. He kissed you, like you asked and then you ran away. Suddenly, you have no desire to return to said dance floor and you come to a stop, folding your arms over your chest.

“Namjoon,” you whisper, barely able to hear yourself. “I want to go home.”

Namjoon does not ask questions, looking dubiously at the bar. “Okay,” he agrees, returning to you. “Seokjin drove, so I’ll just make sure he can take Minsun home. Then we’ll go, okay?”

With one, final concerned look in your direction, Namjoon disappears; shoving through the crowd to find your friends.

Waiting by the door, you keep glancing at a frozen street outside. Jimin is not here any longer. He is not inside the bar, nor outside, which means that he left. Jimin left with Victoria.

Your thoughts are dull when Namjoon returns, pressing your jacket silently into your arms. When you climb into his car, you lean your head against his window and stare. You two do not speak the entire ride home and when you reach your apartment, Namjoon brings the car to a stop. He does not unlock the doors yet, waiting until you turn to face him.

“What?” you say.

Namjoon sighs. “You can talk to me, Y/N – you know that, right?”

You look curiously back at him. “Yeah, Joon. I know. What’s this about?”

He surveys you for a moment. “You kissed a guy, ran off and then asked me to take you home.” Namjoon laughs, but not in a mocking way. “It’s just… not like you, that’s all. You’re sure nothing is wrong? Did Sungmin say something to you?”

Wincing, you realize how this must look. Namjoon probably thinks Sungmin was mean and is worried about becoming friends with him. “No,” you respond, shaking your head. “Sungmin was perfect. You were right, Namjoon. I just don’t like him in that way – which is honestly crazy,” you bemoan. “Sungmin is perfect.”

“No one’s perfect.” Namjoon shrugs. “Trust your gut, Y/N. Anyways, if that’s how you really feel – you should tell him because I think he likes you a lot.”

“I know,” you nod, fiddling with the straps of your bag. “I will. Just… not tonight.”

Namjoon nods. “I get that.”

He unlocks the doors, and you push open his car. “So, I’ll see you later, Joonie?”

He nods, waving goodbye. “Tomorrow, right?”

Paintballing. Hopping out of his car, you squint through the window. “Right,” you exhale, suddenly wary. “Who all is going again?”

“You. Me. Minsun, Seokjin.” Namjoon pauses. “Jimin.”

Looking away, your stomach clenches. You do not want to see Jimin, especially not after he has been with Victoria, but if you say something now, Namjoon might suspect. Forcing yourself to smile, you nod. “Yeah. Tomorrow,” you say, shutting the door harder than intended. “Sorry!” You wince. “See you tomorrow.”

Namjoon laughs, waving while pulling away from the curb.

It is cold outside. Suddenly, you regret wearing this skirt because even with your jacket, you find yourself freezing. Hurrying inside, you climb the stairs two at a time, collapsing onto your bed to stare up at the ceiling. You keep waiting to hear a knock, the sound of Jimin’s voice at your door but nothing comes.

There are no knocks, no new messages.

For the rest of the night, your place remains silent.

[Master List]

Author’s Note: No Strings Part VII is up now. Thank you !

Playlist: Follow Me, Hardwell & Jason Derulo; Despacito, Luis Fonsi & Daddy Yankee; Barcelona, Ed Sheeran, 365 Fresh, Triple H; Humble, Kendrick Lamar; I’m the One, DJ Khaled; Súbeme la Radio, Enrique Iglesias; Post To Be, Omarion

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