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queenshelby · 3 years

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A New Life

Part Six: Gone Too Far

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 4,977

Warning: Fluff, Smut (a lot of it!!!)

Shortly after you emerged from the bathroom, Laura apologised to you but, for you, it was too late. You wanted to go home and, whilst you told Cillian to stay and enjoy the theatre play, he was determined to at least drive you back to your house.

‘I will take Y/N home’ Cillian said before handing Laura the theatre tickets and money for taxi so that she wouldn’t use public transport after the play was finished.

‘Sure, alright’ Laura huffed out somewhat disappointed before whispering to you while Cillian asked the waiter for your coats and paid for dinner.

‘I suppose this is the perfect time for you to make your little move, isn’t it?’ Laura said somewhat annoyed and you simply shook your head.

‘Think what you want to think Laura. I don’t really care’ you said somewhat frustrated.

‘Neither do I, because I will have my chance soon. Cillian and I will be working together on the UNESCO project next week’ Laura explained just before Cillian returned with your jackets and asked whether you were ready to leave.

***

‘You know you could have stayed’ you said after you arrived at your apartment and you unlocked the door, letting you both inside.

‘I really didn’t want to stay Y/N. Dinner was bloody awkward’ Cillian chuckled before taking off his shoes and hanging up his jacket in the hallway.

‘Do you mind if I have a quick shower before we watch a movie? I tend to get uncomfortable in these pants’ you said as you handed Cillian a bottle of red wine and two freshly washed wine glasses.

‘Not at all. Want me to pick a movie?’ he asked and you nodded, knowing that he would pick something good as his taste in movies was much better than yours.

***

When you emerged from the bathroom, you sat down next to Cillian on the sofa, wearing a black loose cotton dress.

Your hair was freshly washed and braided and Cillian couldn’t help but notice the scent of your shampoo.

‘Very coconutty’ he chuckled before handing you a glass of wine.

‘Too much?’ you asked, unsure whether he liked it or not.

‘No, I like it. Reminds me of my last holiday in Spain’ Cillian observed.

‘I didn’t realise that they had coconuts in Spain’ you said somewhat surprised.

‘I don’t think they do but everyone at the beach used this fancy coconut scented sunscreen. I even ended up buying a bottle because it smelled pretty good’ Cillian said somewhat randomly and you couldn’t help but laugh.

‘You are weird’ you giggled and, just as you did, Cillian laughed.

‘I’ve been told that before, especially by your brother’ Cillian said just before he turned on the movie.

‘Well, I like weird’ you said before looking at the TV.

The first scene of the movie was rather steamy, featuring two actors almost completely naked in the shower, making love to each other.

You couldn’t help but gasp before purposely drinking a large sip of wine from your glass.

‘A friend of mine recommended this movie’ Cillian said, feeling the need to explain his choice which is when you suddenly turned to face him.

‘How do you act out those kinds of scenes?’ you asked, causing Cillian to chuckle.

‘After you familiarise yourself with the script and your character and get undressed, you just switch off. You put yourself into the mindset of the character and just do it’ Cillian explained.

‘Does it feel different kissing someone on screen as opposed to kissing someone in real life?’ you wondered and Cillian nodded.

‘Very different because, most of the time, you don’t actually want to kiss the person you are working with. I like kissing a lot but it can be a little awkward if you are kissing your co-star’ Cillian explained, making you blush.

‘So, you like kissing, hmm?’ you asked cheekily.

‘Of course. Don’t you?’ Cillian responded somewhat amused by your question.

‘No actually, I’ve never been a big kisser’ you said, biting your lip nervously. You had always thought that kissing was overrated and the two men you’ve been with before weren’t really good kissers.

‘You are still young. Perhaps you just haven’t kissed the right person yet’ Cillian then said reassuringly and, just as he did, you leaned closer towards him carefully.

‘Perhaps’ you said quietly, swallowing harshly, before tentatively caressing Cillian’s face and brushing your red wine-stained lips against his.

Cillian parted his lips slightly, allowing you to kiss him for a second or two before, suddenly, he pulled away.

‘I can’t Y/N’ Cillian then huffed out, leaving you somewhat stunned.

‘So, when you told me the other day that I am attractive, you just said that to cheer me up. You don’t…’ you began to say, but Cillian stopped you.

‘I am attracted to you, alright. You are beautiful and very sexy. But you are also twenty years younger than me and you are my best friend’s sister. It just doesn’t sit right with me. Despite, as I told you, I am not interested in dating anyone. I just need a break from dating’ Cillian explained calmly.

‘I am not interested in dating anyone either Cillian, especially not someone who lives on the other side of the globe and who resembles exactly what I was trying to get away from. But, I can’t help but being attracted to you and I want to sleep with you, just once’ you said slightly tipsy, causing Cillian to gasp.

Cillian cocked a brow, his eyes burning. ‘Why me? Wouldn’t you rather do this sort of thing with someone your own age?’ he asked, amazed by your directness.

‘No, I don’t. In fact, I think that you are very handsome and I trust you. I’ve never had a one-night stand before because, quite frankly, I haven’t trusted anyone enough to keep it to themselves. With you, it’s different’ you explained and, just as you did, he leaned in and pressed his lips back onto yours in a more heated and passionate kiss.

The truth was that he had fantasised about you for a while, but would never have acted upon his desire to sleep with you because of his relationship with Cian. When, however, you made such tempting proposal to him, it was difficult for Cillian to deny himself any longer and his primal desires took over. He hadn’t had sex in four months and the attraction he felt towards you was intense, even to the point where he couldn’t remember a time where he felt so attracted towards another woman before. He needed to get it out of his system and so did you.

‘This is a one off thing and it needs to stay between us’ Cillian huffed out after your lips drifted apart and you nodded in agreeance, pulling him closer again.

The kiss quickly became fiercer and you realised that he was right. You hadn’t kissed the right person before because, what he was doing to you with his lips and tongue, was unbelievable.

His tongue circled around yours, exploring your mouth while, every so often, he pulled against your lower lip with his teeth slightly.

It was intense and much unlike any other kiss you had experienced before.

‘I think I might be changing my mind about kissing’ you whispered out against Cillian’s lips in between several passionate kisses and your comment made him grin.

‘Wait until I show you what else this mouth can do’ Cillian smirked as his mouth left yours and he lifted up your thin cotton dress and pulled it over your head.

You resisted a little but eventually allowed him to remove your dress, leaving you wearing nothing but your panties. However, being very self-conscious, you immediately covered the scars on your stomach with one of your hands while forcing Cillian to look up into your eyes.

Without saying a word, his lips met yours again for a passionate kiss just as you were inhaling sharply, worried about what he might think when he saw all of you in the dim light of the living room.

‘Do you want me to stop?’ he then asked, sensing your nervousness and reluctance but you shook your head.

‘Good, because that would be really damn difficult for me now’ Cillian chuckled, causing you to laugh and, just as you did, Cillian ceased the opportunity to move your arm out of the way and away from your stomach.

‘You are beautiful Y/N, there is no need to cover up your body’ he then said before taking off his t-shirt, causing you to gasp again.

His upper body was covered in small freckles and he had a little bit of chest hair, which you couldn’t wait to get your hands in. His body was toned, much more than you had expected and, just as he threw his t-shirt onto the floor, he kneeled there in front of you and starred at your body just as you starred at his.

‘Second thoughts?’ you asked but he shook his head with a grin.

‘Absolutely not. Just admiring the view’ he smirked before looking up at you and his gaze was almost as hot as your skin felt. It was too much and you couldn’t get enough.

He was right though. You shouldn’t be doing this, a voice screamed in the back of your head, but as Cillian dipped his head down to your breast, teeth grazing over sensitive flesh, you slammed the mental door on that voice.

‘Oh god’ you murmured as Cillian kissed and grazed over your bare breasts and you turned your brain off and focused once more on him as he pulled back. The usually-vivid blue of his eyes was blazing now, dark and stormy as he watched you through sooty lashes.

‘Are you sure you want this?’ he then asked again and you nodded.

‘Good, but you need to relax’ Cillian then said again, still noticing your tension and some apprehension and realising that you were uncomfortable in your own body.

‘I will try’ you said just before a sensual warmth flooded your chest as he lowered his head again, lips brushing softly against your nipple. A soft breathless sound fell from your lips, followed by a quiet moan. What he was doing felt simply incredible and he needed no further encouragement as he moved his hands to the curve of your waist, trailing tiny touches across your stomach like he was mapping out your body for his memory.

His mouth continued its assault on your nipple and you reached for him, one hand at his shoulder and the other in his hair, tugging at the roots with every new nip and flick of pleasure he offered.

Until you pulled too hard and his head came up, eyes so dark they’re nearly black, but a small smile ghosted across his wet mouth.

‘Easy’ he said in a gruff voice that tightened everything hot inside you and shot to your core. It pooled there, hot and heavy and adding to the anticipation that you were not sure could amp up much higher because, if you were not touching more of him in the next five seconds, you would lose your fucking mind.

‘Let me touch you Cillian’ you told him and his full lips tugged into a cocky grin.

‘Not yet, we’ve got all night’ he smirked just before his mouth shifted and grazed across your ribcage and down towards your stomach.

You tensed again and tried to get his attention somehow as he was too close to your scars, but he wouldn’t let off. Instead, he kissed you and touched you, devouring your body and breathing in the scent of your skin.

You closed your eyes against the sudden swell of panic that gripped your throat as this wasn’t something you were used to. You took a shaky breath, acutely aware of the cool air across your breasts and his lips on your stomach which is when he asked “do you want me to keep going?”

You nodded almost imperceptibly, causing Cillian to smirk.

‘Then you need to relax’ he reminded you.

‘Trying’ you huffed out nervously, which is when Cillian told you again how beautiful and sexy he thought you were and that he loved everything that he was seeing right there in front of him.

He then lowered himself over the swell of your hip and he caught the fabric of your panties in his teeth, tugging them down as he moved down your body and away from your hand.

You inhaled sharply and, finally, spread your legs and let him look.

‘You are so fucking wet already’ Cillian observed before he swore under his breath, voice rough and hot with desire. His eyes were glued to you and you felt both, drunk with power and at his mercy.

A world of contradictions balanced in the space between your bodies, and it shattered when he lowered his mouth to you, tongue snaking out to catch the slickness of your folds, evidence of how much you wanted this.

‘Oh my god, fuck’ you moaned as you felt the warmth of his mouth on your aching pussy. His teasing licks lingered over your slit until you began rolling your hips, mewls of pleased torture pouring from your mouth when he skillfully avoided your clit.

You didn’t dare to grab his hair and risk him stopping, so you fisted your hands in the blanket beneath you, twisting against his mouth to get him where you wanted him.

‘Impatient, are we?’ Cillian teased you, knowing exactly what you wanted. But he was determined to take his time with you especially since he knew that this was going to be a one-night stand.

‘Please Cillian, fuck just…please’ you gasped, hips pressing desperately against him for more as he had spent ten minutes licking you, teasing you with his tongue, giving you just a little bit each time.

He lifted his head, looking up at you from between your thighs and it was so fucking sexy that you thought you might come right then. His mouth was wet with your desire, and he smiled devilishly at you before moving his hands from where they rested on your thighs, up to bracket your hips and held them still against the couch you were on.

‘Do you want to cum?’ he asked with a smug smile and you nodded eagerly in response. You weren’t sure what made you think that you would since no one had ever made you orgasm before without the help from a vibrator, but you were determined to let him try not that he had been edging you for ten minutes already. If worse came to worse, you knew what to do if you didn’t get there in the end.

But, for Cillian, this was all part of the game. He loved to tease and little did you know that he could play this game for hours until you would literally squirm and scream for your release. But not tonight, tonight he was simply going to give you what you wanted provided that you beg.

‘Please Cillian’ you asked again, causing him to smirk.

‘Please what?’ he teased.

‘Please just make me cum…please’ you said, desperate for his tongue to make contact with your mound again.

Luckily for you, he finally relented and his lips closed around your clit pretty much as soon as they made contact with your mound.

‘Oh fuck, yes right there’ you screamed as you couldn’t even remember your own name much less the movie you were supposed to be watching.

Then his tongue was everywhere and he began adding one finger followed by another inside of you.

He curved his fingers upwards slightly while he continued to suck on your clit and, just as he did, an unfamiliar feeling raged through your body.

‘Holy fuck’ you moaned, not sure what was going on as the rough intrusion and onslaught of sensations had you seeing stars.

‘Yes oh god, yes fuck’ you screamed as your legs suddenly began to shake violently and you were coming against his hand and mouth, shouting his name desperately.

‘What the fuck was that?’ you huffed out, breathing heavily as the stars began to fade and he slowly withdrew his fingers from inside you.

‘What do you mean?’ Cillian asked somewhat confused and with a slight chuckle as you were still panting.

‘Like an orgasm, but more intense. I couldn’t control it’ you gasped and Cillian smiled in response.

‘I guess I found your g-spot’ Cillian said with a smug smile before crawling up on your body and kissing you passionately, making you taste yourself on his lips and tongue.

‘Since this is a one night thing, can you show me where it is for future reference?’ you giggled, causing Cillian to laugh.

‘I don’t think you’ll be able to reach it yourself I am afraid’ Cillian then said before taking another sip from his glass of wine, allowing you some time to recover before suggesting that you take this to the bedroom.

‘Common then’ you grinned eagerly, taking his hand and pulling him off the lounge and towards your bedroom.

‘Do you have condoms?’ he asked and, of course, since you didn’t plan this, you didn’t.

‘No, but I am on birth control and up to date with all of my check ups’ you said, looking at him as if you were seeking reassurance from him that it was the same for him.

‘Same. So, I guess we don’t worry about it?’ he asked and you shook your head, dragging him towards the bed.

From the bed, you watched him unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans. Then he pushed them down and it was your turn to stare. Which you definitely did, wide eyed as he stood naked before you.

‘I can’t wait to be inside of you Y/N’ Cillian said as your gaze grew hotter as it trailed down Cillian’s body and settled on his hard cock. He watched you watch him. An arrogant smile was tilting his gorgeous lips as he crawled onto the bed with you and kneeled over you.

Every inch of him was beautiful. Almost as you imagined, but better. Clearly, he knew it as well.

Whilst Cillian would usually take his time with this as well, he had an unexplainable urge to become one with you. He couldn’t explain it, but he needed to be inside of you, now.

‘Spread your legs’ he instructed in a low voice, one hand tugging at your knee until you complied.

With your legs spread wide, he positioned himself in between them, kissing you passionately again while you ran your hands through his hair.

For at least a minute, he teased your entrance with the head of his cock and you lifted your hips, wanting him to enter you.

‘I want you inside me, please’ you huffed out as you felt him against you, hot and hard.

‘Patience isn’t your strong point, is it?’ Cillian smirked as he leaned into you slightly, causing you to moan.

But you wanted all of him, and you told him as much.

‘Please’ you begged and just as you did, he pushed his length inside of you gently.

‘Fuck you are so tight Y/N’ he groaned, almost surprised as he bottomed out against your cervix. As soon as he entered you, he realised that he would have more trouble controlling himself than usual and perhaps it was because he had been fantasising about you like this, naked beneath him, for some time.

‘You feel so good Cillian’ you moaned at the same time, holding him close as he gave you some time to adjust to his size before he started to move with slow but deep thrusts.

You loved feeling the warmth of his flesh inside you and he loved the feel of your moist walls rubbing against his cock as he thrusted in and out of you.

In between moans, you shared several passionate kisses and it didn’t take you long to find a rhythm.

Your fingernails were digging into the flesh of his perfectly round ass, keeping him deeper and deeper inside you as he continued to fuck you until, suddenly, his movements came to a standstill and he repositioned himself so that he could lift your legs against his shoulders.

‘Uhm, what are you…’ you were going to ask but, just as the words left your mouth, he drove back into you and you let out a loud moan.

‘Holy shit’ you shouted out as you could feel the tip of his cock against your g-spot in this position and every time he thrusted into you, electricity shot through your body.

‘Are you going to cum for me?’ Cillian asked and you could barely nod when your legs began to quiver.

‘That’s a good girl’ Cillian groaned and, just as he did, you started to scream so loud that he had to over your mouth with one of his hands.

‘Fuck you look so sexy like this’ he groaned, watching you come so hard, even harder than before as his cock thrusted against your g-spot and his pubic bone was rubbing against your clit.

He loved seeing you loose control beneath him and, only when you stopped screaming in pleasure, he slowed down stroking before, carefully, slipping out of you and allowing you to drop your legs back onto the bed.

‘Jesus Cillian’ you huffed out, slowly catching your breath and he couldn’t help but grin.

‘Did you, uhm…?’ you wondered as you were in a trance but Cillian shook his head.

‘No, I am not ready to cum yet. I am enjoying this way too much’ he smirked and you were amazed by the amount of self-control he had. You wondered, whether, perhaps, this came with age and you’ve been missing out on being with an older man for years.

‘Well then Mr Murphy, how do you want to fuck me now?’ you grinned before pulling him in for a kiss and, when your lips drifted apart, he instructed you.

‘Turn around and put your arms onto the bed head’ he said and you complied with his request, thinking that you had unleashed the animal within him.

To your surprise, within seconds, Cillian scooted up behind you and lined himself up with your entrance again while nibbling on your ear and neck from behind. His kisses and bites were gentle and passionate and you realised soon that he got pleasure simply from pleasuring you.

‘Hmm that’s so nice’ you moaned as he kissed the back of your neck and his arms were tightening around you as he got impossibly harder.

You let your head fall back against his shoulder, exposing your throat and he wasted no time in lavishing it with attention, kissing and sucking the sensitive skin where your pulse was pounding.

‘I need to feel you Cillian’ you murmured through the waves of pleasure and sensations.

He didn’t answer you with words. Instead, you felt his hand slide between you as he lined himself up against you so that, if you moved at all, he’ll be inside you.

‘Do you just?’ he then teased as he gave you the little control he could afford to, and he waited like that for you to push backwards.

‘Go for it then’ Cillian smirked, thumbs brushing across your breasts, then your ribs and hips.

When you shifted them slightly, gasping at the intrusion despite how slick you were with wanting him, he groaned and tightened his grip.

‘You feel so fucking good’ he groaned as he bottomed out inside you eventually and the sound drove you into motion, moving together easily in an age old rhythm that just worked without effort with the way your bodies fitted together.

How he controlled himself like this was beyond you, but you enjoyed every moment of pleasure he was giving you.

Cillian’s hand found your hair, gripping it close to the scalp and tugging once. You let out a breathless cry and you could feel his chuckle vibrate against your back before he pulled you back onto all fours, breaking the contact in favour of a better view.

You heard Cillian suck in a breath, and when you peaked over your shoulder, he was watching himself slide into you, watching the way your ass moved with every thrust.

‘Jesus Y/N that’s so god damn sexy, you moving your ass like that’ he said in a guttural groan as he continued to thrust into you.

‘Take what you need Cillian’ you moaned, giving yourself to him and, when your careful pacing became frenzied and sloppy, Cillian reached down for your clit.

‘Oh god, oh god yes’ you groaned as you wanted to cum again so badly.

But you also wanted to feel him cum as, simply, the thought of him filling you with his cum drove you crazy. There was something about it, something naughty and forbidden.

‘Cum inside me Cillian. I want to feel you cum inside me’ you moaned and your words alone caused Cillian to gasp and groan all at the same time.

‘Fuck, say this again’ Cillian groaned as you were falling into infinity once more, this time with him close behind you.

‘I want your cum inside my pussy’ you blurted out, almost surprised by your own profanity and it was obvious to you that Cillian enjoyed some good dirty talk.

‘Y/N, fuck’ Cillian groaned again as he slammed his cock into you. Your legs were quivering once again as you came for a third time and your tight walls began to clench hard around his cock, milking him.

With one final thrust and a loud groan, Cillian finally stilled, pushing himself into you as far as he could get and, just as you felt the warmth of his cum flooding your insides, you moaned again.

‘Oh god yes’ you moaned as you felt him throb and pulsate inside you, spilling his cum into you before taking in a sharp breath.

‘Jesus’ he then huffed out, still panting as, slowly and carefully, he pulled out of you, causing a large amount of his cum to spill from you and onto the sheets.

You could certainly feel it too and, when you collapsed onto the bed and turned around to face him, an almost elvish grin escaped you.

‘This was something else’ you panted from exhaustion as you could still feel his cum leaking from you, turning you on all over again. But there was no way you would be able to have sex again any time soon after this three-hour session with Cillian.

‘This was amazing. I don’t think I had sex as good in like a decade’ Cillian huffed out before collapsing next to you.

‘Oh common. I am sure you had plenty of women with way more experience than me’ you said teasingly since Cillian was really only the third man you had ever slept with.

‘Well, this was actually my first one-night stand in about 25 years as, just like you, I never usually trust anyone enough to go down this route’ Cillian chuckled before realising that this may just have made him sound old. ‘Want to go again?’ he then asked jokingly to brush over his admission and you shook your head.

‘Cillian, you fucked me for three hours straight. I never thought that this was even possible and I honestly don’t think I could take any more. In fact, I can tell that I will have sore muscles tomorrow’ you giggled before drawing Cillian close for a kiss.

‘You should have a warm bath then. It will make your muscles relax’ Cillian suggested and the sound of a warm bath did, indeed, sound very good.

‘Are you going to have one with me?’ you asked, causing Cillian to nod.

‘I don’t see why not’ he then said before jumping up and filling the bathtub with some hot water.

***

Minutes later Cillian and you sank into the hot bath water and you rested your head against his chest while his arms wrapped around you and began to soap up your breasts and stomach.

‘There…now you are relaxed’ Cillian whispered, realising that you were no longer covering up your scars.

‘Because you made me feel beautiful, sexy and desired’ you said shyly, causing Cillian to kiss you neck and nibble on your earlobe briefly.

‘That is because you are beautiful and sexy and I desired to be with you, probably for a bit longer than you realise’ Cillian admitted in a quiet whisper into your ear.

‘Oh, is that right? You wanted to do this for a while, did you?’ you teased and Cillian couldn’t help but chuckle.

‘Since the night I met you at Cian’s birthday party. But I felt fucking guilty about it and would never have acted upon my desire to have you, even just that once’ Cillian told you.

‘Because I am Cian’s sister? Frankly, I don’t think he would care much’ you said.

‘That and the fact that you are so much younger than me Y/N. I shouldn’t have wanted you’ Cillian explained.

‘Age is just a number Cillian. I don’t think it matters much when you are attracted to each other’ you said before tilting your head slightly and kissing him.

‘Do you regret it?’ you then asked after your lips drifted apart.

‘Sleeping with you?’ Cillian asked, causing you to nod. ‘No, do you?’ he then asked.

‘No. I truly believe that we needed to get this out of our system’ you confirmed, causing Cillian to laugh.

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jemmo · 2 years

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the dance of pat and pran: bad buddy through the lens of romeo and juliet the ballet (pt 1 of ??)

ok so apart from being a bad buddy simp, im also kinda a ballet snob. like above musicals and theatre, ballet is my favourite performance art. and so naturally when bad buddy became a thing and it had all these romeo and juliet parallels, i didnt think about the play, i thought about the ballet. bc this ballet is one of my all time favourites, its just so engaging and beautiful and captivating. kenneth macmilan’s choreo manages to say everything the play says without saying a single word. i went to see it be performed live just a couple of weeks before the first bad buddy ep aired. and for ages ive wanted to dive in to some comparisons, but nothing had grabbed me yet. that was until ep 5 and 6. and i wasnt exactly in a coherent place after ep 5, so i think now the time has come. i give you the bad buddy and romeo and juliet ballet analysis, beginning with part 1 of the balcony pas de deux.

part 2

before we dive in, i wanna give just the tiniest bit of context. a pas de deux translates to a dance of two people. and if you’re already looking for parallels, here they are. pat and pran are two dancers, they move and dance around each other, sometimes alone, sometimes with others, but sometimes they manage to come together and have these pas de deux moments. pas de deux’s are some of my favourite parts of ballets. they occur at the heights of emotion, the climaxes. and there is nothing else, nothing external, nothing else on the stage except for those 2 dancers releasing their everything into their performance and each other. and when pat and pran come together in these solitary moments where all external factors fall away, they perform their own pas de deux, and they are beautiful.

now onto this specific pas de deux, the balcony pas de deux, which is ballets equivalent of the famous ‘romeo romeo where art thou romeo’ scene. already its called the balcony pas de deux and hello... balcony... rooftop... are we seeing the parallels already??? anyway i highly suggest you watch it. here is a performance by the royal ballet on youtube. now you might think bc of the name this reminds me most of the balcony scene, and it does in retrospect in so many ways, but it actually came to mind today during ep 6 when pat and pran are playing in the ocean. bc this pas de deux has such a freedom and playfulness to it. at this point romeo and juliet have met and danced together, but this is their secret meeting, their first real interaction, the moment where everything is released. and that parallels both the ep 5 kiss and ep 6, and here’s why.

(also i will put timestamps for if you want to consult the performance bc i will reference certain parts and movements)

(also disclaimer i am purely a ballet fan, i am by no means a dancer or an expert. im just someone who loves the art form but has very little technical understanding so a lot of this is just feeling and interpretation)

pat providing a safe space for pran to explore his freedom and his feelings

im gonna start with this topic bc its the thought that first came to mind to me, both when watching ep 6 and when first rewatching the pas de deux. throughout this dance, one of my favourite elements is how physically supportive romeo is of juliet. there’s a lot a lot of lifting. but i specifically want to point out two, one starting at 0:15 and one starting at 1:04.

i adore how in these lifts romeo takes a supportive role, but the way he holds juliet is not restrictive at all, and allows her to be playful. see the free arm and leg in the first lift that can flow about as romeo sways her, and the kicking of the feet in second lift that speaks of a childish playfulness. lifts already require trust, but lifts that allow for this space and freedom require that romeo knows exactly how to handle juliet, exactly how to hold her so she can still express and play. and that’s pat, that’s pat down to a t in the beach ep.

he knows pran so well, knows exactly what he’s like and how he needs to be handled in this situation so that he will open up. and so he steps into pran’s space just the perfect amount over the line to show his presence but also not come across as a threat. he’s just there, asking pran to talk to him and waiting for a response. and all his actions across the ep, they slowly knock down pran’s walls, they work. pat shows his love and how dedicated he is to it, how sure and insistent he is about it, and it constantly reaffirms to pran that pat is taking this seriously no matter how much he jokes around. and what pat ultimately does is create a safe environment for pran where his walls can safely come down. he gives them privacy and respects his choice to not discuss certain things.

he begins by acting how he always would, just his natural clingy self, and that softens pran enough that he becomes comfortable enough to start breeching more difficult topics on the beach, like their families and the feelings and debts they have for each other, especially regarding their separation which is a topic that had never been so directly addressed thus far. and this culminates in the bet, where pat gives pran that final push, that final lift by writing kiss in the sand, just making it known that that topic exists out there and its waiting to be discussed. and instead of it frightening pran off so that he reconstructs all his walls, pran gives in, bc he feels safe enough to give in for once. he says the word ‘like’ out loud, acknowledges it as the stage they’re both at even though the words coming out of his mouth are ‘i dont like you’. and instead of trying to push pran into honestly, instead of forcing him to admit something he’s not ready to admit, pat instead provides another safe space. he plays in return, and the safe space of the bet is created. a place where they can openly and freely explore their feelings and manifest them into actions without anything too heavy or set in stone.

throughout this whole progression of pran, pat is always the one there doing the lifting, providing that safe space for pran to dance and express. and the movement reminds me so much of them playing in the water together. the light and carefree air, the way that pat holds pran without any insinuation of holding on with force. its a hold of support. it says i’m just here to have fun, let you play, and catch you when you fall. i just wanna let you be you, bc that’s when you shine brightest to me. and if pat and pran were dancers, i could imagine pat holding pran above his head, and just watching him with love in his eyes as pran moves above him, bc that’s when he’s his most beautiful.

(i also see this in the spin at 0:53, in the way romeo holds juliet’s waist and spins her carefully around as she lets her arms and leg move and flow and play with the air. also... we know pat is a waist person so...)

i also just wanted to note that in these lifts i see how the bet will play out, how through this guise of playfulness they are giving an excuse for why they are being close and intimate. the lifts come across as playful but are also the closest the dancers get both physically and on a trust level. similarly in the bet, their actions will have a pretence of playfulness when actually they’re being used to explore intimacy, both physically and emotionally. its a sentiment of wanting to try something big without having to mentally process how big those things are, so through this lens of a bet, these things don’t have to seem so big and scary. after all, they’re just part of a game.

#bad buddy #patpran #ohmnanon #ok so this has become a monster and im rambling way way too much in it so ive decided to release it in little chunks as i get them done #otherwise this would legit become a 50k essay no joke #i coud talk about ballet forever #and it was honestly shocking watching the balcony pas de deux in this context #bc god there's just so so much there #i can see patpran in literally every move #and i just need NEED to scream about it all #so i shall this is my blog fight me #but i also hope you enjoy this #i just felt like this was a unique viewpoint that i could offer #so let me know what you think #made by jemmo

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bokutosworld · 3 years

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over again | iwaizumi hajime

pairing: iwaizumi x gn!reader word count, genre: 1.8k words, angst + fluff in the beginning. warnings: mentions of death, car accident. summary: he blames himself for the past but you help him take the first step to moving on. a/n: @ricerice i promised i’d tag you in an iwa angst so hope you enjoy this hahah

—

“Iwaizumi!”

Who’s there?

“Hajime!”

Huh?

“Babe!”

Iwaizumi’s blinded by the harsh sunlight when he opens his eyes. Where am I? He hears people laughing in the distance, children running about, and waves breaking at the shore. With an outstretched hand, he feels the texture of hot, grainy sand beneath his touch. The next thing he finds is the warmth of another person’s hands.

“Hajime, get up! This is no time for sleeping under the shade.”

He comes to his senses and his vision clears to make out a familiar face. You were hovering over his body, blocking the sun from his eyes and he could see how you were smiling so happily at him.

He gets up from his lying position and cups your cheeks, thumbs grazing your face so tenderly as if he’s afraid to break you. He tugs you for an embrace, his hold tightening for every second that passes.

Worried, you wrap your arms around his torso. “What’s wrong? Are you ill?”

And that’s when you feel it. Tears streaming down his face and leaving a trail on your neck. Your heart quickens and you pull back to see him silently sobbing.

“Why are you crying?”

He opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out. Because even he doesn’t know the reason why he suddenly broke down. It came out of nowhere, his chest constricting at the sight of you and the overwhelming feeling of longing and desperation.

You’re wiping his tears and he catches your palm, bringing it to his lips. Finally, he smiles, “Nothing’s wrong. Shall we go take a swim?”

—

Is this dèjá vu?

Iwaizumi could swear that he’s been in this exact spot in the exact same time with you. Like he was experiencing it all over again. If he dug around in his mind, he could pull out a similar memory where you were enjoying the feel of the water in your feet and calling out for him to join.

Maybe it was just a coincidence.

He decides to stop overthinking and relaxes his tense body. Approaching you with a smile, he surprises you when he places an arm under your knees and your waist and lifts you with ease.

“Hajime,” you exclaim, hitting his biceps.

He spins the both of you, the water splashing around before letting you fall in the water. You’re completely soaked, hair sticking to the sides of your face when you come up to breathe and Iwaizumi’s bending over his knees as he laughs.

The thing about Iwaizumi is that he has a beautiful laugh, his eyes often turning into crescents and the sound is music to your ears. It’s rare for him to openly show emotions unlike others you know who wear their hearts on their sleeves. You’d have to be someone he was comfortable with, someone he trusts before getting the privilege of seeing the rarest sides of him.

And to Iwaizumi, you have always been that person.

You grab his hand and pull him so he could join you in the cool seawater. It takes a moment before he comes up for air and when he does, he’s grinning with a mischievous look in his eyes. You feel his arm around your waist, pulling you closer until your lips are only a hair’s breadth away.

“Are you happy right now?” He asks.

Humming, you grab at his shoulders and press your forehead to his. “I am.”

“Good,” he says before leaning for a kiss. It’s gentle, it’s passionate, and it captures a million loving thoughts and emotions that neither of you could ever translate in words. You feel him smile into the kiss before breaking apart.

“You taste salty,” you tease to hide how he has just literally taken your breath away.

He chuckles and in your closeness, you feel his heart racing. “That’s your fault. You nearly drowned me in the water.”

Rolling your eyes, you hit at his bare chest and make a move towards dry land.

“I’m hungry! Let’s go get something.”

As he watches you go back to your lounge chair and grab a towel to dry off, the scene before him blurs. He shakes his head, blinks once and twice before you were fading right in front of him. He calls your name and catches you look back at him before all he could see was black.

—

When he comes to his senses, he finds himself laying with his head on your lap. Your fingers are softly brushing through his hair, the gesture ushering him in a state of euphoria and he thinks could go back to sleep.

But then he remembers what happened and he’s up.

“You’re awake.” He senses something was different with how the corners of your lips turned upwards solemnly. Your eyes glossed with something he couldn’t describe.

“How long was I out?”

“Well, you missed lunch. And we’re the only ones left here,” you inform him. Your gaze looking past the vast ocean.

Iwaizumi turns to where you were looking and he’s mesmerized. By now, the sun has set and the sky was turning from clear blue to warm orange hues. He looks at you and his heart jumps, admiring the glow of your sun-kissed skin.

“Have you realized it yet?” You break the silence.

What are you talking about?

You glance at Iwaizumi with a sad smile. When he doesn’t answer, you take it as your cue to continue speaking. “Do you remember when we took our first trip to the beach right after we graduated from high school?”

He listens.

“It was our first out-of-town date as a couple and I was so nervous to be alone with you,” you chuckle at the distant memory. “But you made it easy. You were such a gentleman, you never made me uncomfortable, and every moment with you felt natural.

“That day, I had the most fun that I’ve had in my years of existence,” you turn to him, eyes boring deep in his and you smile. “That was my favorite memory of us.”

As if a lightbulb flashed in his head, Iwaizumi finally makes sense of what’s happened. Why the earlier events seemed so familiar to him.

Because, indeed, they have already happened.

He feels something in the pit of his stomach and he averts his gaze, looking at anywhere but you. He observes how the clouds look superficial, how the waters before him look almost imaginary, how you look alive.

His voice is trembling when he asks, “This is all a dream, isn’t it?”

“That’s right.”

And for the second time, he cries. Oh god. Of course, this can’t be real. Of course, this was all a figment of his imagination. He’s been praying for this opportunity to spend time with you again.

“It’s good to see you, Hajime.”

Because you weren’t in his life anymore.

He crumbles in front of you, shoulders shaking violently as he weeps for you. He’s saying something but it’s incomprehensible. He reaches for your hand and you take it, feeling the strong grip on your palm.

“Why?” I have longed for you for days, months. “Why show yourself only now?”

“You’re still suffering. And I don’t like to see you hurting.”

“I’m sorry, so, so sorry,” he mutters repeatedly.

You cradle his shaking body. “Shh, Hajime. Stop blaming yourself. It’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault.”

He remembers the day it happened so vividly in his mind. It was unpredictable and it happened in a blink of an eye—he could still hear the tires screeching, could still feel the impact of the collision, could still picture himself with you inside that car when it went flying across the street.

Despite the immediate assistance from an ambulance, the doctors at the hospital declared you as dead on arrival. And when he woke up three days after the incident, he couldn’t believe the news he was hearing. He wanted everything so badly to be a bad dream, wanted to be able to hold you and hear your voice one more time.

Losing you felt like he lost a part of himself too.

“I miss you,” he croaked. “I miss you everyday it hurts.”

“I know.” You hold him close for a while. “I’m only given one chance to visit someone in their dreams so I want to make this worthwhile. Iwaizumi, I want you to move on. For my sake and yours.”

It takes him a while to calm down, only reveling in the moment when he could finally touch you, talk to you, and hear you even if it was only in his dreams.

“I can’t,” he stutters. “I can’t move on. There are pieces of you in everywhere I go, everywhere I look. On my table, there’s still the coffee cup you always used when you come to my apartment. Your toothbrush is still sitting beside mine in the bathroom.

And your parents, god knows I’m thankful for them. But every time, they call to check up on me, I’m reminded of you and how I let you die.”

“It’s not your fault. Stop thinking of that.” Your heart shatters whenever he says that. “No one expected that to happen. And I’m also frustrated and heartbroken that I can’t be with you anymore.”

There’s a long minute where neither of you say anything. The two of you just holding on to one another and savoring the moment.

“I have always dreamt of growing old with you,” you whisper dreamily. “We’d own a house and live there with our children. I was thinking one boy and one girl. I’m sad that I can’t make that happen with you anymore. But you have a whole life ahead of you. I’m still rooting for you to achieve your dreams, you know?”

Finally, he laughs as he’s slowly coming to terms with his reality.

“Forever and ever. That’s how long I said I loved you and that has not changed. Even when I’m already gone, I will always be,” you rest your hand on his chest near where his heart lies. “Here.”

He grabs your wrist and intertwines his fingers with yours before kissing them. He doesn’t want to let go of you again. He’s already lost you once and he’s not about to lose you again, wishing that he could stay in this dream forever.

As he’s about to tell you something, he’s brought out of his unconsciousness and his eyes fall to the empty space in his bed. The sheets feel damp and it’s only when he touches his face that he realizes he’s been crying in his sleep. It’s cold when he reaches out to your side of the bed, thinking back to the nights you slept beside him and he felt content.

He remembers what you said.

Forever and ever. That’s how long I said I loved you.

He wills himself to be comforted by those words, repeating them in his mind like a chant until he finds peace and falls back to sleep. He hopes that tomorrow will be better.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi imagines #haikyuucreations #haikyuucafe #iwaizumi angst #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fics #iwaizumi x y/n #haikyuu x you #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi hajime x reader #hq iwaizumi #haikyuu!!

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gaemkyuu · 3 years

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Mommy will you marry Charlie? (Charlie Gillespie x Fictional Character)

Warnings: mention of teenage pregnancy A/N: I was pleasantly surprised at the amount of love “Mommy can we keep him” received. I was originally going to upload the proposal AND the wedding, but I’ve been struggling a bit with the wedding portion. I hope you enjoy the proposal! Disclaimer: This is a FICITONAL writing piece! In no way do I claim characters in this piece act this way in real life.

Masterlist *now taking requests ;)

Mommy will you marry Charlie?

“Hey! Are you ready to go?” Charlie knocked and popped his head into Riley’s ensuite, pausing to take in her beauty. She was dressed in a pretty summer dress and placed a few more bobby pins into her hair, smiling at him in the mirror.

“Just about. Are Owen and Savannah here?” Riley’s answer came at that moment when the doorbell rang. Charlie left the ensuite and headed for the door just as Emerson got to it.

“Emmy, what did we say about answering the door?” Charlie chastised, moving quicker to the door. Emerson slightly pouted knowing he was right and sat on the entryway bench, waiting for Charlie to open the door. “You guys are just in time!” “No thanks to Owen” Savannah scoffed, motioning to the giant behind her.

“I hadn’t eaten yet, I needed My Chick-fil-A, but then I forgot to order some for Emmy, so we had to go back through the drive through” he sighed, showing him the two bags of take out in his hands. “Where is the little stinker?”

“I’m not stinky! I took a bath!” she hopped on the entryway bench and into Savannah’s arms first, Owen dramatically displayed his offense to the toddler.

“How come she gets a hug first?! I brought you Chicken Strips!” Savannah picked her up and balanced her on her hip. “I even convinced the lady to give you two books!”

“Aunty Savannah didn’t call me stinky and knows that I ate supper before you came.” she giggled and shook her head. “Plus, I like the chicken nuggets and not the strips” Owen rolled his eyes and muttered a ‘oh come on’ under his breath, but as soon as Savannah put her down, Emerson gave Owen’s leg a hug.

Riley came to the front door and greeted her friends, thanking them again for being so willing to babysit while they went out for the evening. After Charlie and Emerson’s date, the couple decided that they would go on more family dates as a request from the little girl and Charlie. Riley didn’t think anything of it, but she certainly didn’t want to come between the relationship they were both developing. This was the first time Emerson ever really accepted another man into their lives.

At the young age of 18 and saving enough money, Riley moved out of her mother’s home in Chino Hills to a one bedroom, one bath in downtown LA that was closer to her office. Riley was grateful that her mom agreed to come over to their apartment to babysit Emerson while she was at work as it helped her to save up more money to eventually move into a chic modern home on the outskirts of downtown. She was always so focused on providing for Emerson that she rarely let anyone into her life and when she did, she always had to make sure that they got the seal of approval from Emerson.

There was Nick from the marketing department at Netflix who she thought was cute, but he wasn’t very open to the idea of potentially becoming a dad so early on. Emerson really didn’t like him as she would cry every time he looked at her or moved towards her. That didn’t last more than three weeks.

Then there was Jaime from the grocery store who loved children and really liked Riley, but Emerson didn’t like the fact that Riley made more money than Jaime and warned her mom several times about him, despite her young age. Riley learned her lesson that sometimes four year olds are very perceptive because Jaime asked to borrow money for his rent a month later.

Lastly, there was Greg, a single dad who had twins the same age as Emerson. That didn’t last because the kids would often fight. Emerson thought the children were dumb and immature, while the twins thought Emerson was acting like a weird grown up.

Riley always prioritized Emerson in any decision making process she had, but at her core she felt lonely. She couldn’t tell her daughter this despite her intelligence. She was still a child. What kind of a mother would she be if she vented to her child? But Emerson knew her mom was lonely. She often heard her crying in the pantry and quietly talking on the phone late at night. That’s why when Charlie walked in their lives, she knew she had to play nice for a little while for the sake of her mother. Neither girls expected that Charlie would become such an important piece of their lives.

“Emerson we will be back past your bedtime, so give me kisses now” Riley requested as she hugged her little girl and peppered her with kisses. She giggled and kissed her mother back until she let go. Instinctively, Charlie knelt down too and opened his arms, giving her a quick peck on the head. Emerson gave him a hug back and kissed him on the cheek, the gesture garnering a loud “aw” from Owen, as the girls silently admired the interaction. Charlie rolled his eyes and whispered to Emerson quickly, making her giggle as his breath tickled her ear and neck.

“You guys should get going so we can start painting Uncle Owen’s nails!” Savannah interrupted, glancing at the time on her phone. “We also get to facetime Uncle Jeremy, Aunty Carolyn and Aunty Madison too!” Emerson got super excited and skipped to her bedroom to grab her “nail kit”, a toy Savannah had bought her last Christmas. With a laugh, the couple headed out the door and off to supper.

As soon as the door closed, the two friends and Emerson got to work. They were in on the plan and set about decorating their house. Emerson and Charlie had gone to PartyCity a few days ago while Riley was at an executive meeting and picked out a bunch of decorations for his proposal. At first, Charlie was hesitant, but Emerson was absolutely sure her mother said yes. Knowing his past of always being proven wrong by Emerson, he decided to listen to the little girl and follow her lead.

“Remember, mommy had me when she was a kid so she missed out on kid things. Do a bunch of kid things with mommy!”

That’s what prompted Charlie to take her to Santa Monica. Charlie had made a reservation at a restaurant on the Santa Monica beachfront and the two enjoyed a lovely casual dinner. They talked about projects they were excited about and started ‘people watching’ from their seats, laughing and making silly jokes about the people who passed them by. After dinner, they set out to do “Kid Things” and played games on the pier, settling for mini donuts as dessert and eventually watching the sunset. Charlie tensed for a moment, but quickly relaxed as he felt the small box in his pocket.

“Mommy won’t say yes unless I’m there. She would be too busy thinking about me before she says yes, so ask her at home”

“But what about bedtime?”

“I mean if you say I can stay up, then that should be okay right?”

“You okay? You looked tense for a second” Riley snapped him out of his thoughts, but he was grateful that she shivered because it gave him a chance to change the topic.

“Yeah, I was just thinking about the sunset in Dieppe. Can’t wait to take you one day. Cold?” he draped his denim jacket over her shoulders, and hugged her from behind. As soon as the glow from the sunset disappeared and the glow of the carnival lights replaced them, Charlie decided that instead of walking on the beach, they would go home and watch a movie on the couch. They spent the drive back to Riley’s place in a comfortable silence with the radio gently playing music. Charlie started to feel more excited and antsy the closer they got to her place. Before exiting the car, he held her hand in his and kissed the back of it. “I love you, you know that?” Riley smiled, nodded and kissed him on the lips. Charlie raced her to the door, knowing full well that he would beat her to it, but that didn’t stop Riley from trying. They stumbled through the entry a fit of giggles and laughter, but Riley stumbled on a pair of shoes.

“Charlie! I told you to... put your shoes...away?” she became more confused as she stared at the pair. They weren’t Owen’s, Charlie’s, Savannah’s or Emmerson’s. Who could be in their house? She looked up to see Charlie nowhere in sight and began to worry. “Char, this isn’t funny. This is like the scene from a horror movie” she quickly shed her shoes and walked down the corridor to the living room. She didn’t expect to see her mother, Charlie’s mom and their closest friends standing behind Charlie and Emerson with excited looks on their faces. To add to her confusion, they held party poppers and noise makers, while a giant Congratulations banner decorated her living room. She heard Emerson clear her throat and Charlie stood proudly beside her.

“Dear mommy, I stayed up past my bedtime because Charlie said I had to” everyone in the room laughed at this, as Emerson continued to read from the piece of paper in her hands.

“Mommy, you work so hard to give me the best life and the best toys. Sometimes I wonder how I can give you the best life and the best toys, but adults don’t play with toys. I asked aunty Carolyn why she was so happy with uncle Jeremy, and she said it was because she gets to be with uncle Jeremy forever” Carolyn wiped the tear that had formed in her eyes.

“I asked uncle Owen why aunty Carolyn and uncle Jeremy got to be together forever, and that’s when uncle Owen said it was because they were married.” She took a deep breath and lost her place on her paper. Charlie peaked over and pointed to where she needed to keep reading from.

“Oh, right. When I asked you were getting married, you told me never and that it was a rude question, but I think that was because you had a bad day at work” despite the teary eyes, her comment made everyone laugh.

“So I asked Charlie to go on a date with me and ask him when he would marry you” Riley gasped as Charlie pulled out the box with the ring, getting down on one knee. “I know Charlie makes you happy and I think you should be together forever. Charlie has a question for you and the answer is yes.”

“Riley King, I love you and I love Emerson. I can’t think of anyone I want to spend the rest of my life with. You and Emerson are my family now, so let’s make it official” Charlie winked at Emerson who put her paper down and also got onto one knee beside Charlie.

“Mommy, will you marry Charlie?” Riley was crying full tears at this point listening to her daughter’s words, but she nodded and whispered a yes. Everyone erupted in a cheer and the party poppers went off as he put the ring on her finger, kissing her and picking up Emerson. “You did so good, Emmy!”

“You’re gonna be my daddy!!!” Emerson exclaimed, full of excitement and squeezing Charlie.

Riley wiped her tears and kissed her daughter on the cheek, truly speechless. Everyone came around to congratulate them, Savannah, Madison, and Carolyn all wanting to see the ring first and then hugs. She was on cloud nine, still not able to understand how this was all being planned behind her back. “Is that why you volunteered to babysit?” Savannah nodded her head sheepishly and hugged her friend. Charlie’s mother gave her a big hug congratulating her on their engagement expressing her excitement to have another daughter in law, while Riley’s mother hugged Charlie, crying happy tears. The rest of the evening was spent enjoying everyone’s company that the couple lost track of time. By the time they said goodbye to Owen, the last to leave, Emerson had fallen asleep on the couch.

“You mean to tell me, you planned this entire thing with my daughter behind my back?” Charlie smiled and nodded, picking the little girl up from the couch, careful not to wake her up. “I mean, I am touched, but I’m also afraid of what else you two are capable of doing”

“Just wait til you hear her ideas for the wedding.” Charlie chuckled as they headed to her room to tuck her in for the night. He put the little girl into bed and Riley watched the whole scene from the doorway, tears coming to her eyes as it finally sank in that this was her family. Emerson stirred and shifted around, uncomfortable all of a sudden. Charlie cooed at her and assured that she was fine, humming softly to her, something that he often used since the first night he helped her through a nightmare.

“G’night daddy” she mumbled in her sleepy daze, settling back to sleep. Charlie was taken off guard as the new title fell from her mouth. He felt his heart explode and wiped a tear that fell from his eyes.

“Sleep tight Princess” he sniffled, clearing his throat and kissing the top of her head. He pulled another blanket over her frame as she often got cold in the middle of the night. It amazed Riley how much Charlie knew of her daughter despite the amount of time he had been present in their lives. They softly shut the door behind them and walked hand in hand to their room. “Planning the wedding is going to be fun”

“I was thinking we do it in Dieppe or Moncton” Riley suggested, something to which Charlie lit up at. He looked at her with wide eyes in disbelief.

“If you’re pulling an Emerson on me right now, I’m going to be so mad” they had come up with the term ‘pulling an Emerson’ to describe the sarcasm they often received from the little girl. But Charlie became overjoyed as Riley bit her lip and shook her head, confirming that she did in fact want to get married in his hometown.

“We start planning tomorrow”

A/N: if you really want a wedding scene or a glimpse of life after the wedding let me know!

#charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie fanfiction #charlie gillespie imagines #fanfiction #imagine #owen joyner

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rikumorimachisgirl · 3 years

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Title: Eyes on you

Pairing: Shaw x You

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 2,901

A/N: You (Y/N) are not the MC in MLQC. This is a plunny that's been bugging me for quite a while, I had to write it. I hope you like it.

Disclaimer: I do not own MLQC or its characters, but I do own the concept of this fic.

There were a few mysteries in this world that the esteemed Archeology Graduate Professors at Loveland University can't explain - for instance, the formation of the Stonehenge, the exact location of the lost city of Atlantis, the origin of the Nazca lines… and your presence at the Metro Art Gala dressed to the nines, positively gleaming as you strode arm in arm with your classmate and Thesis partner Shaw, who seemed like the perfect gentleman that evening. Thanks to your work at the Loveland Museum, you scored two invites to the gala featuring the recently discovered works of a well-known artist - an event any Archeology fanatic wouldn't let pass. The two of you walked along with LFG's Exhibition Hall, pausing occasionally to admire one of the recently discovered sculptures by the Renaissance artist D'Romani. As you both looked at the intricacies of the artwork in front of you, your charming companion would lean in slightly and whisper something in your ear, causing you to roll your eyes or stifle a giggle.

To the guests in the prestigious gala, the two of you looked like two young people at the cusp of falling in love, but the members of the Faculty of the Graduate School of Archeology saw it differently - this was a real-life mystery if they'd seen one.

As your eyes swiftly swept through the entire room, you could see that your professors only had one question in mind - how'd this happen? How did two people as different as day and night, who argued with each other throughout Graduate studies, end up amiably enjoying each other's company tonight?

You drew a sharp breath and sighed. The answer was simple: Your Thesis defense was right around the corner. You needed him to cooperate, you were willing to go to great lengths to make it happen. And your Thesis partner (unfortunately) was ready to take full advantage of the situation.

***

"Tell me why we're doing this again, " you said through the door that separated you and your date, as you were putting on the dress you bought (or invested on, as he casually stated) for tonight's gala, which he insisted on attending with you. It was six in the evening on a Friday, and you had just arrived home after cramming your workload at the Loveland Museum and foregoing your meal breaks just so you could leave work at exactly five-thirty.

"I already told you a couple of times - you want me to cooperate with you so you can pass our Thesis, and I need a reason to be around her," the purple-haired man waiting at the other side of your bedroom door called out nonchalantly. "You can drop your fantasy about me asking you out because I'm attracted to you."

You hissed silently at his snarky remark and counted to ten. You haven't even left your apartment yet you already wanted this night to be over. "How do you even know she's gonna be there?"

She - the Miracle Finder Producer, the object of your Thesis Partner's fantasies, and as fate would have it, his brother's girlfriend.

"They're doing a show featuring our Thesis adviser. Didn't he tell us about it during our last consultation?" He asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"I wasn't listening," you shot back, as you took off your ponytail and started styling your hair with your curling iron. You chose a one-shoulder fitted black dress that stops right above your knees, so you thought of wearing your hair down for a change.

"Ah, yes. You were too busy looking at your notes, trying to prove me wrong as always."

You closed your eyes, as you continued to make big beach waves and prayed to the gods you wouldn't commit murder tonight.

"How much longer are you gonna take?"

"Excited much?" You asked, smirking while you now removed your glasses and put on your contacts. "You sound like a teenager excited to see his crush in a school fair!"

"Don't compare me to you!"

"I don't have designs on anyone in the party," you called back. "Unless your brother's attending the event, that is. From what you've been telling me, he seems like a great guy."

Silence. You arched an eyebrow as you strained your ear to listen for any sign of life outside your bedroom door. What must your grunge-rock skater boy-turned-date-for-the-evening be thinking?

"Do you want to pass our Thesis or not?"

You struck a victory pose at his remark. Finally, one point - you, Shaw - about twenty.

"Are you done yet? This suit is really uncomfortable. Damn, why do people even wear these?"

"Because they're decent?" You shot back. "You know, you can always go home if you're not comfortable in your attire because when we get there, you need to act decent, too. Can't have your usual swagger in a formal affair."

"Just hurry it up already!"

You rolled your eyes as you applied your nude-colored lipstick to finish off your look before putting on your black stilettos, and stuffing your phone, wallet, and your makeup in your purse.

"All done," you replied, as you finally emerged from your room.

***

A part of you wished that the dynamics between you and Shaw were different. While he was a pain in the neck, and too carefree for his own good, you also thought he made for a good intellectual sparring partner, quite attractive, and it was hard to deny that he's got your heart beating double-time whenever he got too close for comfort like he was at that very moment.

"My, you two kids seem to be having fun tonight."

You gasped, at the sound of the voice behind you, and you felt your date nudge you ever-so-subtly while straightening.

"Hey, Professor Adler," he said in his usual unruffled tone, his lips stretched into a smirk as he held his hand out to your Anthropology professor and Thesis adviser, who watched you both amusedly. His gesture made your eyes shot wide open, you thought they'd fall right off. Shaw shaking someone's hand? That's one for the books.

"Shaw. Fancy seeing you here," the stout middle-aged man greeted while shaking your date's hand. "This isn't your usual scene though."

"Yeah, I know, but I can't exactly turn a pretty lady down, can I?"

"I can see that," your professor said as he looked at you appraisingly. "Well, well, you clean up well, Miss (y/n)."

You fought the urge to squirm at the older man's words when you heard your date cluck his cheeks with his tongue and suddenly felt his arm around your shoulders, pressing you protectively close to his side.

***

"All done!" You happily announced as you stepped into the living room of your small apartment where your date was impatiently waiting for you.

You could've sworn he was stunned for a second or two before he shook his head and tried to regain his usual impassive expression. Finally, he stood and walked closer to assess you better.

"You're not wearing your glasses. I thought you said you're practically blind without them?"

You cocked your head to one side. Out of all the things he could've complimented or called out, that's the first thing he noticed?

"Wouldn't it look awkward if I wore glasses to a formal event?"

"Your hair is all curly," he continued as if you didn't say anything. "And your shoes are so tall, won't you trip? Also, surely you have a jacket to go with that dress, right?"

You stared at him in disbelief. Why did this carefree, bass-playing skater boy turn into your dad all of a sudden?

"Uh…"

"Well, at least you're not wearing red lipstick. You don't have to try too hard to look sexy. Geez! I've got plans of my own this evening, so don't expect me to be your bodyguard," he continued to mumble as he circled around you. Before long, you felt something warm and heavy on your shoulder. His coat?

"It's just until we get to the venue," he shrugged as he led you to the car he borrowed for tonight. "I don't want people seeing you freeze to death."

You sighed, your shoulders slumped as you followed your date to the car. You already expected he wouldn't throw you a compliment for looking like a proper human tonight, and you cursed yourself for feeling gutted over it anyway.

***

"So, which one of these sculptures did you like best, Professor?" You sighed in relief as Shaw changed the subject, his arm still wrapped around you, making you blush furiously.

"Oh, I have to say I liked Eros and Psyche best. In case you haven't seen it yet, it's located a little further down the hall near the bar area," the older man was starting to explain when someone tapped his shoulder from behind.

"Excuse me, Professor Adler," a gentle voice called out, making both the professor and Shaw jump. From behind the old man, a pretty petite with brown hair and big brown eyes, and the biggest smile on her face stepped up. "My name is MC from Miracle Finder."

Almost immediately, Shaw withdrew his arm around you, almost causing you to stagger backward. He straightened up and feigned disinterest.

"Hey. It's a little rude how you stepped in while I was talking to the Professor," he said, his tone teasing.

"Oh, I didn't notice you here. Do you mind if I talk to your Professor? We've invited him for an interview about the exhibit," the girl said sweetly.

Based on how unconsciously coy she acted around Shaw, and the way he kept egging her, there was no doubt that this was the girl he was crushing on. You felt like the odd person out all of a sudden and needed to step away.

You backed away slowly, careful not to rouse their attention because it would probably suck if you knew how Shaw would introduce you to his little crush. As soon as you were in a safe distance, you turned and walked aimlessly down the hall, pausing briefly at paintings or sculptures that caught your fancy, looking at its intricacies as you did so earlier. But somehow, it wasn't as fun as it was before, so you moved on quickly, to give way to the other guests who also wanted to view the artwork.

Finally, you came upon the bar and decided to rest your tired feet at the far corner, hidden from the rest of the world. Sighing, you slipped your feet off your stilettos and quietly watched as the guests around you - mostly couples - happily chatting away as they enjoyed the beauty of the art around them and the wonderful music that filled the air. You knew somewhere in the crowd, your date was fawning over his lady love, probably getting in the way of her filming your professor.

Tch.

You knew he liked her - he always told you he did. And why wouldn't he? MC was pretty, seemingly sweet, and dainty - the kind of girl any guy would like to protect. And you. You were the opposite. You lived for your work, were 'one of the boys', and didn't need anyone to protect you - that's just how you were - and now you started to realize that maybe guys don't exactly like that. At least not Shaw.

Wait, what were you thinking? You scolded yourself as you shook your head. Why were you even thinking of what he liked when you don't even like him to start with. Or did you?

"Ugh. What the hell is wrong with me?" You groaned when a cold bottle of beer and a frozen glass was placed in front of you.

"I was gonna ask you that myself."

You straightened up in your seat and shot a look at the guy seated beside you. Dressed in a nice grey suit, he smiled as he raised his beer bottle in front of you.

"You look like you needed a drink. I hope the beer is okay. They don't have fruit beer or soda," he said calmly, his amber-colored eyes never leaving yours.

"Y-yeah. Beer is perfect," you replied while pouring the amber liquid into the glass. "Thanks," you muttered before raising the glass to your lips to gulp down some liquid courage.

"I saw you with Shaw earlier -"

The name on his lips drove you to a coughing fit, as you choked on your drink. "Sorry, " you mumbled in between coughs.

"No, I'm sorry," the brown-haired guy said, as he cautiously and politely patted your back. "I didn't mean to bring that up. I was just curious."

"It's fine," you replied when you finally regained your composure. "Yes, we're just classmates in Grad school who decided to check this exhibit out for the heck of it."

"Classmates, huh?"

"Yeah, that's what we are," you said, taking a sip off your glass. "Grad school classmates."

"Are you telling me or telling yourself?"

You looked up and saw him smiling. There was something about Dreamy McHandsome who was seated beside you that felt so familiar yet different at the same time, but you couldn't point a finger at what it was exactly.

"We're classmates, and we're working on our thesis together. But we're not friends - far from it even. We hate each other's guts."

"Can't blame you for doing so," he shrugged as he drank his beer.

"Yeah. He dragged me here so he can get with someone he's been crushing on for so long," you rambled on, frowning.

"Oh? And who might that be?"

"The Miracle Finder Producer. You know, the pretty girl in a blue top and white skirt. He's been going on and on about her for weeks…"

"You mean my girlfriend?"

His girlfriend. You choked on your drink once again. "Y-y-your girlfriend? You mean to say…" You gasped. Has the beer made you stupid? You've barely drunk half of it, you thought as you fought to regain your dignity. This was Shaw's brother you were talking to - and boy, we're they blessed with good genes…

… And the same social awkwardness, you noticed, judging by how he kept his hand at your back, but not exactly touching it, as if trying to assess if he had to pat you or not.

When you finally calmed down, he cleared his throat and gave you a small smile. "Don't worry. She talks to me about their conversations. I know what that guy is playing at, and I most definitely know he's not after my girl," he said, his voice broke no room for doubt. "My name is Gavin..."

"Yeah, I know…"

"You - what?"

"Oh," you said, tapping on your glass nervously. "Shaw kinda mentioned it in passing before."

"I see."

"So, what were you saying earlier about Shaw?"

"Oh. From what my girlfriend tells me, he's got his sights set on…"

"Ahem," you heard someone say loud enough for you and Gavin to turn your heads around. And there, standing behind you, was an angry-looking Shaw. You sat up, your gaze shifting between the two brothers as the air started to thicken with tension. "I talk to someone for a minute and the next thing I knew, my date walks out on me and right into the one person I'd hate for her to meet."

"Well, if you were just honest with her as with a lot of other things in your life, maybe she wouldn't have left your side earlier," Gavin retorted flippantly. "Is she finally done with filming?"

Shaw simply grunted in reply as he watched his older brother finish his bottle of beer and stand. "Well, Miss, there's a lot I've heard about you. Seems somebody couldn't stop talking about you, but I'll leave it at that."

With a wink and a mischievous smile upon his face, the brown-haired guy sauntered off to look for his better half, as you and Shaw watched in awkward silence.

He cleared his throat and glanced at you. "Hey."

"Hey," you replied, shakily.

"So, about what that jerk said -"

"Yes?" You asked, feeling your heart hammer against your chest by the second.

"Whatever he said is not true," he said dismissively, as he took his coat off and draped it over your shoulders. "I told you before, I don't find you the least bit attractive."

You felt tears starting to sting your eyes, as he continued with his harsh commentary. "You're tough, highly opinionated, and you always want to come out on top. I don't find those attractive at all," he said. "I prefer a damsel in distress. I want someone clingy… someone, needy."

"I know that -"

"Oh do you?" He teased, his amber eyes twinkling. "You seem to know a lot about me."

"We've been working together for months now," you said. "Of course, I'd know more about you."

"I see," he said, as he took a step closer to you and touched your cheek, rubbing the stray tear that had managed to slip down the side of your face. "So, you must know I'm also a good liar. After all, I've kept all these feelings to myself for quite some time."

He snickered when he saw your frown deepen and he bent down just as he had done so earlier, to whisper. "I made you think I liked someone else when in fact," his low voice made you shiver. "I've always eyes for you."

The End.

#mr love queen's choice shaw #mr love queen's choice #mlqc fanfic #mr love fanfic #mlqc shaw #shaw x reader #mlqc gavin #iris writes

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myelocin · 4 years

Text

To Us, A Love Story Unwritten | Kuroo T., Miya A.

Hello!! Before you begin reading, THIS STORY IS A PART TWO to Redefining You , which I highly recommend you read first because a lot of things are connected! :D

Part 1 | Part 2 | Epilogue | Bonus

Synopsis: Time away from Tetsurou leads you to the serendipity that is Miya Atsumu.

Characters: Kuroo Tetsurou, You, Miya Atsumu

Genre/Warnings/Tags: None! Angst, HEALING, Hurt & Comfort, surfer!Atsumu, tattooed!Kuroo, Fluff

WC: 7600+

a/n: here’s a word dump of my feelings bcos i made an oopsie and projected real ppl in 2d characters again

*playlist if u want maximum feelies: Blue (Elina), Miles Apart (Nick Wilson)

The thought of healing didn’t cross your mind until some months later.

In the mornings after that morning, you stood in your balcony, leaning against the railing with a mug of coffee, your thoughts wandering. Sometimes you thought of what kind of coffee you liked, and other times you caught yourself wondering how Tetsurou moved through his six AMs. Morning thoughts were reserved for the things you prefer to keep out of your head during the day. Tetsurou, of course, had always been an exception. He somehow always flowed in your train of thought whether the numbers on your watch flashed 3am or 3pm.

Or now, you thought after taking a quick peek at the time in your phone, 6:19 AM; all you could think about was how sad his golden eyes looked against the black of Tokyo’s backdrop.

Tetsurou making his way into your thoughts has always how it’s been for almost a decade, and habits are a little hard to break. At least, that’s what you say to reason with yourself.

Thinking back to your words that night, the “I love you” just kind of slipped out. But you know you meant it. Shifting your wrist to the side, you studied the tattoo again, then closed your eyes to remember the expression on your best friend’s features.

You meant the I love you, you told yourself again. Towards yourself that was for sure; towards Tetsurou.

And that’s always going to be the case, taunted the voice in the back of your head.

After that night, Tetsurou had broken up with his long term girlfriend for good. Though he didn’t necessarily ruin himself over the breakup—there were changes.

He still texted you at odd hours to show you a video he thought was funny, still showed up to your apartment for movie nights, and more or less was still present. But it was during the particularly sentimental scenes in the movie where he’d choose to refill the popcorn or grab another soda, and you could see that his can was still half full. You noticing that Tetsurou always chose to pick the other boba shop that was on the other side of town never flew past you either. You knew that that was the shop he always used to take her after classes—so even seeing how his hands never failed to tighten against the steering wheel when the two of you would drive by, you always pretended not to notice. Even though four months had passed, you know that for him, the wound was still fresh.

And remembering how sad he looked that night, you couldn’t help yourself to feel for his pain. At the end of the day, weren’t you just two people who yearned for the love that couldn’t be yours?

So you sigh and take a sip of coffee from the mug; it had grown a little cold. The digital clock on your phone read 6:31 AM next to a text from Tetsurou asking if you had time for lunch later.

Replying a quick ‘yep. meet u at the usual :)’, did nothing for you trying to have a more productive day off today and thus the morning felt a little slower than normal, so you sigh. Again.

It was going to be one of those days.

Tetsurou always made it a point to look gorgeous. Was he trying? Probably not, but that son a bitch knew people gave him looks that lingered a bit too long to be considered just a passing glance. You nearly snort in laughter at the way he opens the door to the café a little too, for better words, extravagantly, and walk to you purposely taking his time because you could tell he felt the way the young mom sitting at the table near the counter was giving him the look.

Then again, you don’t blame her. You weren’t too far from her reaction, albeit you actually had the decency to not openly gawk at him. Tetsurou plopped down in the chair opposite from you and pushed his sleeves up to his elbows and propping them up the table before grabbing the menu from the middle of the table.

Already knowing your order, and his even though he still looks through the menu every time, you sit in your seat waiting for him to settle on the same thing he ordered the last time you ate there.

“Tetsu, why do you have to be so extra every time you see someone looking at you for more than three seconds?”

He cocked his head to the side and peeked at you from behind the menu, “Because I’m hot, tree.”

Though you rolled your eyes at the nickname, you still smiled at the familiar banter, “I still don’t get why you call me tree when you’re the literal beanpole in this friendship.”

“That’s rich coming from you, considering you told people you knew a talking rooster in highschool,” he deadpanned, but you knew he was on the edge of a chuckle from the way he emphasized his words.

“Hey,” you raised your arms up in defense, “people thought you were interesting that way so…”

Tetsurou set the menu down and rolled his eyes at your response as the waiter greeted the two of you. Before Tetsurou could open his mouth to say what he wanted, you spoke, “I’ll get the carbonara and he’ll get the tonkatsu ramen—“

“Oi-“ he interrupted from the side, still, you continued, “we’ll also get iced tea, extra sugar for him, and a little less for me.”

The waiter looked between the two of you waiting for Tetsurou to finish speaking but he only leans back huffing out a, “She’s right.”

You smirked. “You get the same thing every time.”

“Well what if I want something else one day?” he replied to which you rolled your eyes as a reply.

In between bites, Tetsurou looks up from his meal, “Any plans?”

You twirled the straw of your drink around the liquid and looked at him, “I was thinking of traveling somewhere. My boss is letting me take some time off, and season’s kind of slow, so might as well.”

He nods, and then points his chopsticks at you, sighing, “Oh to be young and employed with an employer who doesn’t want to kill you with work.”

“We’re literally seven months apart,” you deadpan.

He huffs in his seat and continues eating.

“Have you decided where you’re going?”

You look to your left at Tetsurou who’s facing you, no longer paying attention to the movie playing in the TV. Smoothing out the blanket on your lap, you sigh and tilt your head. “Kinda? I’m thinking somewhere warm. Kinda miss the sea.”

At this point the movie you two settled on a few hours ago had been completely forgotten, so you shift your body and face him. He offers you your third (or was it the fourth?) can of beer for that night, which you take and pop open immediately.

“(Y/n), can you even swim?” he laughs.

You glare at him from behind your drink. “I can go and look pretty in the beach while sipping my margaritas thank you very much.”

Tetsurou clinks his can against yours and leans back against the couch, shifting to a more comfortable position. When he finally settles, he positions his head in a way that’s still facing you.

Draping your legs across his lap, you rearrange the blanket so that it covers the both of you. You feel the weight of his hands leaning against your legs and then hear him speak, “How long are you gonna be gone?”

You shrug. “I don’t know, a month? Two months? Haven’t even got the ticket yet.”

He gives you a look you can’t decipher, and then his voice becomes a little quiet, “What if I want to go with you?”

“Tetsu, you know your job won’t let you off that long,” you reply.

He lets out an exaggerated sigh and pout at you, “You’re going to go and find a new surfer best friend who’ll buy you margaritas that flips his hair and you’ll forget about me.”

You chuckle. “Like that’s gonna happen.”

At this point the alcohol must have hit the both of you because you suddenly look at him, eyes soft in the way you usually would mask in the hours you were sober. He looks at you, equally as deep in the state of inebriation as you are because his eyes are as hazy as the slur in his tone when he says, “Nope! Because you looooove me (y/n).”

And he laughs at his own joke, tilting his head back to take another swig of beer. The comedic undertone flies past you anyway, because you fiddle with the edge of your sweater and sadly nod, “Yeah. I do”

In front of you, Tetsurou raises his hand, smiling, then hollers, “High five! Love you too.”

If it wasn’t for the liquid confidence, you would’ve laughed along to his joke and take another gulp of your beer to swallow the confession—but you’re four cans in and Tetsurou saying that he loves you too clouds the usual boundaries swimming in your head.

He doesn’t notice you when you take another heavy gulp from your can, or bite your lip afterwards, but he hears you when you say, “I do, you dumb fuck, I love you.”

And as soon as you say it, you feel him look at you. You choose to keep your head down. A few beats of silence passes before he speaks, “I know, (y/n),” he reaches forward to grab your hand, taking it into his. He traces the lining of the tattoo before continuing, “I know your tattoo story. And I’m still proud of-“

“I love you, Tetsurou,” you could almost wince at how loud it echoed in the silence, and the alcohol is still swimming in your system so you take another gulp hoping to dive deeper.

You feel him stop tracing the lines on your wrist so you take your hand back to your lap. He let the quiet envelop the room again before he spoke, and you could tell he was careful with his words.

“That time in the balcony, when you said you loved someone…” he trailed off so you look up and catch his stare. His eyes were still glassy; your head was still swimming, the rational thoughts further muffled by liquid confidence.

“I meant you,” you say, and try to fight the urge to break eye contact.

And because Tetsurou chooses to reply with a hushed ‘I’m sorry.’, you tell him ‘it’s okay, Tetsu.’ and retreat to your bedroom with a mumbled excuse of sleeping off a headache.

You lie in the dark with one hand over your eyes and sniffle quietly. You hear his “I’m sorry,” echo in the silence, but you try to ignore the thought at how immediate the apology was. He always had a habit of thinking about his answers in uncertain situations.

But you know him more than you give yourself credit for, you realize, so you shut your eyes and ignore the sting of the tears because you know. You’ve always known everything you felt for him had been on the unrequited side for the most part.

The certainty in his apology still hurt none the less.

That morning you wake up with a slight pound in your head and an empty apartment. At least he didn’t stick around, you thought, fully aware that the conversation afterwards would have most likely been too awkward to sit through.

Sighing as you rounded the corner to enter the kitchen, you paused in your track to look at the table where a plate of omurice lay in the middle next to a glass of sweet tea, the condensation still a little fresh on the glass.

Taking a seat and whispering a soft, “Itadakimasu”, you picked up the glass and took a sip. It didn’t taste as sweet as his.

Your eyes still stung, but you couldn’t help but smile at the taste. Looks like he remembers how you like your tea too.

After that night, there never really came a talk about where the two of you stood. Two days after the not so sober confession, Tetsurou showed up at your door with a bag of donuts demanding your company to picnic at this new spot he found recently. So you played along and pretended like nothing happened. The rational thoughts were back, your head no longer cloudy so this time, you laughed along with Tetsurou.

Though you could tell this time around his gaze towards you lingered a little longer, and he began to have moments where it looked like he was contemplating to start a conversation then ultimately deciding against it at the very last second. It was fine, though. You weren’t sure if you were ready to have that conversation just yet.

So the next few weeks flowed like how it always did. Movie nights, playful banters, small talk, and beer—only this time you never drank more than two.

“Have you decided where you’re going?” he asks.

“Yeah, there’s this island in the Philippines. Siargao. My flight’s next week. The place looks sunny enough, but I might hop around the other islands if I stay long enough,” you reply.

“Don’t drown,” he laughs, and sets his beer down. You turn your focus back to the movie after chuckling at his reply and ignore how he never picked up a third can this time. And unlike before, he didn’t ask if he could come along this time.

Tetsurou drops you off with a half hug and a request that you update him as often as you can.

After a final wave at the gate, you board the plane with a return ticket to Japan slotted for two months later down the year.

The island of Siargao is as beautiful as the pictures you always see on social media. Outside the unit you rented, was a stretch of untouched beach that was some ways from the main square of the city. And true to your words, for the first week of your arrival, you spent your days kicking the sand, lounging by the water and sipping on margaritas.

Tetsurou sent you multiple messages during the first few days, to which you replied through selfies with your margaritas. He’d send you a photo of himself rolling his eyes with the caption “off to work, because I have a job. Like some people.” , or something along similar lines.

You tried to think this wasn’t some random trip you took just because of Tetsurou. It had been a long time since you last took a vacation for yourself; work was lenient, you saved up enough, and frankly, you missed the beach. Tetsurou was just the icing on top of the cake that helped you make your decision, you rationalized.

Plus, you thought, this place is paradise.

And you held on to that thought because a few days later came the knock on your door at six in the morning that introduced you to the serendipity you never could have predicted. Your little summer serendipity came in the form of a six foot one, and totally ripped blonde named Miya Atsumu.

He knocked at your door asking if you knew any places that rented out surfboards and scooters. By the time he was at the third word of his sentence, you knew he was Japanese because of the accent that lingered after he spoke. By the fourth sentence, he smiled in a way that had his eyes crinkling. And by the end of the conversation, by whatever being possessed you in that moment, probably that extra margarita, you had agreed to go to the main square in the city with him.

Atsumu knocks on your door for the second time that day at five in the afternoon wearing a loose white button shirt and another eye crinkling smile. Dangling a set of keys in one hand he nodded behind him and said, “Ready to go? I got the scooter from the place you told me.”

This time, you voiced out your hesitation, “Ahh, it’s alright. You don’t have to get dinner for me tonight. I just happened to know a place.”

He smiles and blinks at you laughing, “Ya travelin’ alone?” You nod then he continues, “Same here. Might as well know someone in the area. Heard the food here’s good, so let’s go.”

You open your mouth to protest but he turns and walks towards his scooter so you huff and follow after him. He did have a point. You were going to be there for two months so might as well actually take the time to know some people.

After Atsumu helps you fasten the belt on the helmet, he tells you to ‘feel free to hold on to my waist if ya need to balance.’ and then backs to the main street. Your hands rest on his shoulders as he drives along a road parallel to the stretch of water on your far left. It must have been close to seven, you take note, because as you glance up the colors in the sky begin to blend into mellow hues of orange and red.

You look forward and glance at Atsumu’s reflection in the side mirror before briefly catching his eye. From the mirror, you could see an expression that was somewhere between a smirk and a smile.

“Ya like what ya see?” he yells over the wind.

You squeeze his shoulder, then lean closer saying, “Just drive. I’m not in the mood to die.”

He laughs over the holler of the open air and you can’t help but smile along to how his laugh lingers in the air.

Soon enough, the two of you settle into a restobar by the beach, one close enough to the water where you could ditch your flip flops and let your feet sink in the sand.

This has got to be the fifth margarita I’m drinking today, you think to yourself before taking a sip. Still good though, you inwardly snort. Atsumu sits across you from the table nursing his own choice of drink.

The atmosphere was nice, the live musician strumming his first song in the background. Then Atsumu speaks from across you, “So,” he begins, “How long ya stayin’?”

You fiddle with the straw of your drink, facing him, “Two months. You?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know yet. Off season and there’s not much to do back home, so might as well be bored somewhere a little more scenic.”

“Indefinite vacation,” you nod—impressed, “Must be hella loaded.”

He laughs again, “I’m comfortable.”

The silence envelops the two of you again, but as the musician begins another song, from the corner of your eye you see Atsumu listen, clap, and smile so you decide maybe befriending this stranger won’t be so bad after all.

The next night you head for go for drinks, Tetsurou messages you with a picture of him and Kenma in the car with a caption, “movie night minus the traitor who left the country >:((“ and you reply with your signature margarita selfie with Atsumu throwing a peace sign to your right. Tetsurou replies with a smiley face and you don’t hear from him for the rest of the night.

The next few weeks consisted of waking up shy of the sunrise and walks along the trail where the waves crept towards the sand. Atsumu liked to join you in the mornings, of course, the days he actually wakes up before ten AM. Some days you’d watch him peddle out into the water catching wave after wave as you sat in the sand, under a shade. You didn’t really go out into the water and preferred to just sit in the sun, so the times Atsumu would catch a break, he’d lay out a towel next to you and sit to talk.

He was talkative. Extremely talkative. But it was welcome, you suppose. He asked aimless questions during conversations. Conversations with him usually sounded like this: “(y/n)?” “Yep?” “Whadda ya think about riceballs?” “They’re…okay, I guess.” “Good to know.”

It was endearing, you suppose. Atsumu respected your boundaries and never pried, that fact was for sure. Though, he chose to fill in the beats of silence with little facts about his life. Over the course of the next month, in the moments you’d spend with Atsumu during the day, you’ve learned that he was playing for a professional volleyball team, he’s originally not from Tokyo, he tripped during a fan meeting, has a twin brother who’s darn good at cookin’ (he emphasized), and that his favorite food is fatty tuna. You don’t remember specifically asking, but he talks anyway you can’t bring yourself to mind one bit.

During the past month and some, Tetsurou sporadically texts you a greeting to which you reply to—but this time, it wasn’t until much, much later that you realize you didn’t think too much about the change of tone and much hastier conversations. You usually ended the phone call this time around, too.

Nearing the last few stretches of golden hour, Atsumu would routinely knock at your door and drag you out to walk around the beach only retreating to your respective units hours after the sunset.

It was during this one night where Atsumu sits you down and stars a small bonfire. He excused himself for a brief moment then came back with a Tupperware of what you assumed to be snacks, a blanket, and a hoodie which he lent you (that up to now you still haven’t returned). You smile as he takes his seat next to you, comfortable in his hoodie.

“So,” Atsumu breaks the silence, “how come yer runnin’ away for two months?”

“That’s kinda sudden,” you reply.

He knocks your shoulder with his lightly before speaking again, “You don’t have ta’ share if you don’t wanna.”

“No pressure,” he says again and his eyes crinkle at his smile so you press your shoulder against his and say, “I just wanted time for myself I guess.”

He nods, so you continue, “It’s nothing dramatic, really. For a big part of my life I just…lived according to how people placed me in their lives. I guess I just wanted the space where I had to make decisions from nothing if that even makes any sense.”

“Depends. How many margaritas did ya have today?” he jokes.

“Atsumu! You were with me the whole day, I haven’t even had one yet,” you laugh out.

“But I understand what ya’ mean. Yer all good, I just thought you were gonna say you were soul searchin’ cause of a boy that broke ya’ heart back home.”

You look at him and wince. “In a way, that was a factor as well.”

Half expecting a sympathetic reply, you find yourself rolling your eyes and laughing because Atsumu suddenly yells, “Bingo!” and flicks your forehead.

He faces you and holds his hands up, “Hey, we all got a reason to do stuff so I ain’t gonna judge ya’.”

You smile and lean against his shoulder because you know he’s sincere.

“Atsumu?” you call out.

“Yeah?” he replies as he turns his head looking at you.

The red of the flames flicker as a glassy reflection against the brown in his eyes and your thoughts become jumbled for a second.

“If I find out you’re here because you got dumped I’m never letting you live it down.”

His eyes crinkle along with his laugh and you find yourself missing the pools of brown, but the echo of his laugh resonates clear in your ears as compensation so you decide you’re satiated.

“I swear I just got bored back home!”

Atsumu spends the next few hours by telling you stories and giving you soft smiles, and you don’t notice the absence of Tetsurou’s message that night.

On the afternoon after some weeks more, Atsumu comes to you by knocking at your door at five in the afternoon (which doesn’t even surprise you at this point), demanding you put on swimwear because he was going to teach you how to swim. At first, you stare at him with a blank look—wherein he stares at you right back with equal intensity, so after some time, you sigh and shoo him out, telling him you’ll meet him outside after you get ready.

After tugging on some shorts and a bikini top, you walk outside and glance around looking for the telltale blonde of Atsumu’s head. It doesn’t really surprise you when you hear your name being hollered from some distance, so as you look to the direction of the water—you see Atsumu waving his arms wildly, already waist deep out in sea.

The water was warm, at least, and you carefully wade in the water towards Atsumu. He lets you grab his arms to help you find balance against the waves knocking against you.

“You know you’re going to fail if you try to teach me right?” you say.

“Just needed an excuse to get you in the water,” he chuckles.

You respond by splashing him with a handful of water. And somewhere in between splashes of water and playful banter, you find yourself wading chest deep into warm water, Atsumu’s arms acting as your anchor against the push and pull of the waves. The two of you stay like that for some time and you allow the woosh of the water and distant sounds of the children on shore fill the silence.

“Golden hour’s almost up, ‘Tsumu, we should go back.” you say after some time.

He stands behind you and leans down a bit, then surprises you as he wraps his arms around you, pulling your back to his chest. Your breath hitches, then his voice sounds low near your ear, “Look at the sky.”

And so you do. The sky in front of you lights itself in bursting shades of oranges, reds, and touches of violets. You turn your face to the side but stop because you see Atsumu staring at you, the expression on his face soft.

“Pretty, ain’t it?” his lips part to say, and you nod because you see licks of the sky’s painting reflected in the glassy brown pools of Atsumu’s eyes.

He blinks and smiles in a softer way that only the corners crinkle up, and you don’t notice how your hand eventually found its way to wrap around his because you’re gravitating towards him—face angling closer until you felt his lips press against your forehead.

“Did you know,” you begin, “when you feel deja vu that means the universe is telling you you’re going down the right path?”

Atsumu looks as you, “Does this feel familiar?”

“In a way,” you respond and smile.

Turning to face him, Atsumu’s hands cradle yours as he presses his lips towards the side of your lips, then back to the side of your head feeling him smiling into the kiss. “You’re somethin’ else, (y/n).”

You look at him wearing a smile mirroring his, “Something good I hope.”

It’s something good, you decide later that night as you settle in bed after dinner with Atsumu. The past few hours flew by in a mirage of good conversation, light hearted jokes and even more eye crinkling smiles from Atsumu.

Settling into the comforter, you grab your laptop just in time as Tetsurou’s face pops up on screen, requesting a video call. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you hit the accept button and wave hello as Tetsuou’s face appears on the screen. He holds a can of beer as a greeting and leans forward. His eyes look glassy.

“(Y/n)..” His voice trails off before slowly continuing, “—how are you?”

You don’t notice his tone from the high you’re still feeling from the day so you beam at him, “I’m good! Atsumu and I are really hitting it off! You’d love him Tetsu!”

He stares at you through the webcam and then he sighs deep. Finally catching a drift of the atmosphere he’s giving off, you watch him crack another beer open and slowly speak, “You okay? Did something happen?”

He sets the can down at the table in front of him and places his face in his hands. You notice the new ink around his forearms. “I miss you, (y/n).”

“I’ll be home next week, Tetsu,” you say

“I—“ he pauses to look up at you with glassy eyes, “I think we should give us a try.”

Your heart clenches. “Tetsurou, you’re drunk. We can talk when I get home.” He shakes his head, and his movement is a little sluggish, so you continue to speak before he could, “I saw the photo your ex posted earlier. You’re still not okay, Tetsu.”

He leans back to his chair with a little force, “And suddenly you are? After being in love with me for eight years, (y/n), you expect me to believe that you’re suddenly okay? Bullshit.”

Your face grimaces, and you feel anger bubble up, the emotion seeping into your words, “I don’t think you’re ever going to go away, Tetsurou. For years I watched you fall in and out of love with someone who was never me. I’m not suddenly okay but I accepted that this—“ you pause to gesture between the two of you, “—isn’t going to happen and I’m moving on. I watched you when you were at your happiest and I deserve that too, Tetsu. I deserve to be at my happiest whether it be by myself or with Atsu-“

“We can try, (y/n),” he cuts you off softly.

“But I don’t deserve someone who isn’t sure about me,” you reply.

And maybe it’s the liquid confidence that riles him up, but he suddenly straightens his back and looks at you with the same glare you stare at him with, “And are you sure about Atsumu? You told me none of us are saints, (y/n), you’re not better off than I am here.”

You open your mouth, but the silence remains; the atmosphere suddenly heavy.

Then Tetsurou slumps before he he speaks, “(Y/n), I—“

“It’s okay, Kuroo,” you watch as he winces at his surname, “It’s late and I really want to get some sleep. You should too. Take care.”

You catch the last second of him parting his lips at an attempt to reply before you promptly ended the call and shut off your laptop.

His words ring in your ear the entire night, and you think of Atsumu the entire night. You watch the second hand of the clock on your bedside table tick slowly. Your hand comes to rest against your eyes as you try to let sleep pull you in.

You think of Tetsurou who looked at you with glassy eyes that told you all the reasons why his heart was still hurting, then you think of Atsumu—of how the sunset looked better reflected in his eyes than it did painted across the sky.

“I really hope this is something good,” you echo your words from earlier as you let sleep finally succumb into slumber.

The night before your flight, Atsumu seats you outside for a bonfire, with the same blankets, snacks, and hoodie fitted around you. The first few hours he jokes about little stories that happened throughout his life and listens patiently when you’d share a snippet of yours.

At this point, you weren’t sure where the two of you stood. You look at him from the corner of your eye as he blows against an extremely burnt marshmallow before sheepishly offering the stick to you.

“When we’re back in Japan I’m lettin’ ya taste ‘Samu’s cookin’ to make up for this I swear.”

You lean your head against his arm and blow on the charred marshmallow, “Have you decided when you’re coming back?”

“Yes, but I’m not tellin ya,” Atsumu chuckles.

“What!” You exclaim, suddenly sitting up, “You already have a ticket?”

“That’s also a secret, doll.”

You sigh and move to lightly punch his shoulder, but instead, he catches your hand midway and envelops it in his own. Atsumu looks at the tattoo on your wrist peeking out, so tentatively, he pushes down the sleeve and looks at it.

“Baby’s breath means eternal love, right?” he asks, voice hushed.

“I’m surprised a big, buff, man like you knows,” you reply.

“Oi, big buff men can be sentimental too,” Atsumu quips.

“(Y/n),” he begins then looks at you in a way that suddenly has your stomach churning, “Should we give us a go at this?”

He asks the same question as Tetsurou did a few nights back and your head is swimming. Tetsurou’s words muddle the thoughts in your head as you turn to face Atsumu who is looking at you with eyes that always held the same softness that remained unchanged from two months ago.

Is this even fair for Atsumu? is the thought that you circle around.

“I don’t want to give you only half of me, ‘Tsumu,” you cradle his cheek in your palm and your heart stirs when he leans in.

“You’re too good for me,” you confess.

He closes his eyes and you find yourself missing the dancing specks of scarlet flames reflected in his orbs.

“You’re killin’ me, doll,” he sighs, his face still warm against your palm. Atsumu’s hand trails up and cups your hand that’s still flush against his cheek.

“Is this the part where we say we’re the right people who met at the wrong time?” he jokes quietly. Atsumu looks at you with a smile contrasting against the somber expression in his face, and you feel your heart clench.

Your thoughts momentarily flicker back to the night you talked to Tetsurou in your balcony some months ago and remember the feeling of déjà vu hinting that you were heading in the right direction with your decision.

Staring back at him, you look at your own reflection in darkened pools of brown and don’t feel déjà vu’s familiar push. Atsumu’s other hand trails up your face and his thumb rubs against your cheek. You stay silent when he sighs again and your heart clenches in the way that hurts, and your brain scrambles for a reason why.

Atsumu angles your hand in a way that lets him press a kiss to the tattoo on your wrist. “Hope ya heal in time, (y/n).”

You’re still quiet, thoughts still muddled as your rationality wrestles to string words to convey to Atsumu. “We can stay in contact, ‘Tsumu. I still want you to be in my life,” you slowly say.

“I don’t wanna be hurtin’ you while you’re still tryin’ to find yourself,” he says, and you nod. Déjà vu never comes and your heart still aches.

And your heart remains heavy as the two of you stand up to retreat for the night. Against the door of your room you look at him and press a kiss on his cheek. He smiles at you.

“Well, I guess,” you initiate, “see you around?”

He smiles and crosses the short distance between the two of you, then presses a chaste kiss on your forehead. “If the universe wills it, doll.”

The feeling of déjà vu is absent for the rest of the night.

After the first few days of your arrival back in Japan, you stay in your apartment cursing the winter. This particular winter was a little harsh for Tokyo and the sudden temperature change you needed to adjust to didn’t help with your traitor immune system. Kenma had waited for you at the arrival area of the airport instead of Tetsurou that day. Then again, you weren’t complaining—you didn’t have any plans to talk to him immediately after coming back home.

You didn’t need to report back to your job until the next week so the first few days, you loitered around your apartment mindlessly passing the time. Some mornings, you’d drag a chair by the balcony and sip your morning coffee. The snow accumulating on the rails and the gloomy morning light was a far cry from the little island you explored with Atsumu back in the Philippines, but your thoughts still ghosted around him from time to time.

The morning you left for the airport, he slept in, but that didn’t stop you from leaving a sticky note in his front door with your contact details neatly printed in the paper. Throughout your day, your eyes constantly flickered to sneak glimpses at your phone’s notification bar, but there was never an unknown number. So you sighed, and instead scrolled through the photos you managed to capture with him. The image of Atsumu stared back at you through the screen, expression beaming with unfiltered happiness and you find yourself smiling along every time.

A knock on your door one morning brings you out of your haze. Before you could look through the peep hole, another knock comes and then a voice, “Ah, (y/n), I think you’re home now,” your hand on the door knob loosens, “It’s Tetsurou. Can we please talk?”

You must have stayed quiet too long because he speaks again, “I got you donuts.”

And you sigh, because he’s right, the two of you need to talk. But you still tell yourself you’re only opening the door because it’s six in the morning and you can’t be bothered to make breakfast so the donuts are the only reason you’re letting him in.

Tetsurou sits on the opposite side of the dining table gripping the handle of his mug with one hand before he clears his throat and looks at you, “I’m sorry.”

“Tetsurou,” you begin, “You’re someone that I don’t think will ever leave my system.” His eyes are a little clearer now that you return his stare. “You’re still the person who grew up with me even if time difference existed you know. You’ve had so many roles in my life and that’s never going to change.”

He looks at you, suddenly looking like a teenager again. His golden eyes stare at you and gleam of something unspoken. “I think somewhere along the years I really did fall in love with you, (y/n). And it just sucks how we never met at the same page. I really do love you, (y/n).”

“Maybe in the next life, Tetsu,” you say suddenly choked up. “We both deserve-“

“A fresh start.” He cuts you off, smiling. “A fresh start.” You affirm.

Before you knew it, Tetsurou rolls his sleeve to his elbows and angles his arm showing you a small outline of the sun peeking out behind some buildings. You look at him just in time for his explanation, “It’s not as sentimental as your baby’s breath tattoo, but sunrises remind me of you.”

You feel your eyes water when you look at the amber of his eyes growing glassier, “You got a tattoo that reminds you of me?”

“You’ve always been a constant in my life, (y/n). I shared so many sunrises with you. And I mean it when I say that I want you to find what makes you happy.” He tells you as you smile and lean forward, tracing the lining of his tattoo. The moment feels a little like déjà vu that doesn’t disappear when Tetsurou speaking again, “I love you enough to realize that kind of happiness won’t be with me, (y/n).”

He looks at you and everything feels so familiar. You choke out a sob that sounded a little like a laugh and Tetsurou does the same.

“You’re never getting rid of me, you lunatic,” you say, and Tetsurou laughs—eyes glassy from the pricks of tears fighting to slide down his cheeks. “We’re okay, right?” He asks you. And you nod, because your heart constricts in a way that doesn’t hurt, the knot in your stomach gone and Tetsurou looking so beautiful from the morning light that filtered in feels so familiar.

“Always, Tetsu.”

And after some moments of comfortable silence, he looks to the window on his left saying, “So, surfer dude slash volleyball player, huh? I think you got a type going on, (y/n).”

You roll your eyes and finally grab a donut from the box. “Yeah.”

Tetsurou chuckles, “Tell me about him. He’s the first guy who makes you look dopey in love.” So you smile and look out the window thinking about the boy who spoke of the little moments and showed you worlds under the sun and feel your heart mellow to a gentle beat, “He’s something good.”

Atsumu’s number doesn’t show up on your phone for the next month, but you try to keep yourself from doing your own research, or as Tetsurou pointed out, stalking, for his presence in social media. If he didn’t want to be found, you’d just leave him to it.

Tetsurou sits across from you at the arrival gate in Haneda airport later that month, scrolling through his phone and mumbling curses because Bokuto, his friend, had told him the wrong time for his arrival and won’t be arriving until a few hours later. Instead of driving back home, wasting gas, and sitting through traffic, you suggest to pass the time at a café instead.

“I swear to god, (y/n), remind me to end my friendship with him the second he lands,” Tetsurou huffs from across you.

“You’re being dramatic again,” You roll your eyes, laughing.

“He’s gonna be here in a bit,” you pause and stand up, grabbing your phone, “I’ll go check the board so stay here.”

“Since you left your wallet here, I’m treating myself to another frapp, thanks (y/n)!” you hear him call from behind you, so you turn to flick him off as you keep walking.

Looking at the board above the gate, your eyes scan to look for information regarding Bokuto’s flight. Under said flight, you smile looking at SIARGAO listed within the board. Briefly, your thought wonders off to Atsumu; you hoped he was doing well.

A flow of people begin to trail out of the gate and into the lobby. Assuming that it must be from Bokuto’s flight, you stand on your tip toes from your little corner to look for the telltale monochromatic palette of his hair.

Grabbing your phone, you hastily press call to Tetsurou’s contact name, to which he answers with a drawled out “Heeelllloo?” along with an exaggerated slurp to the Frappuccino he bought with your card.

You open your mouth to tell him to come over, except that you don’t because standing a few meters in front of you is a familiar blonde.

From the phone in your ear, you hear Tetsurou call your name, so through the haze in your thoughts, you mumble a quick “Never mind.” and hang up. You don’t think Atsumu notices you just yet because he’s pulled his luggage to the side, a little closer to you this time, and pulled out his phone to what you could guess was him texting somebody.

You don’t speak for the first few beats of silence because, holy shit this is fanfiction material—is this actually happening? Eventually he pockets his phone and looks around, before his eyes spots you, who at this point, is still openly gawking at him some distance away.

Then three things happen in succession; first, Atsumu’s eyes widen, second, he blinks really fast, and then finally, third, cracks a smile.

And as soon as his smile pushes the crinkle in his eyes, you feel yourself release the breath you’ve unconsciously held in. He pushes his luggage with him as he walks towards you, hand held up in greeting and the smile still plastered wide on his face.

“Yo,” he says and your heart bursts with your reply that came out a little more breathless than you’d expected, “Hi.”

Tetsurou stands some distance away from the two of you, holding your wallet and his Frappuccino. He spots the blonde mop of head you’re staring at, really you should chill out (he thinks), and immediately recognizes his features as Miya Atsumu, the same guy who’s been a part of your daily margarita selfie for the two months you were in the Philippines.

The bedhead watches you walk towards Atsumu, and he to you before you both met somewhat in the middle, then looks at you, finding himself smile because of how happy you looked. He stands in his spot and can’t help but feel some sort of déjà vu as he stops himself from approaching the two of you. His heart, he realizes, clenches in a way that sort of hurts but sort of doesn’t, but because this is the first time looking at you with a smile so unabashed, he settles with the thought that because he loves you—you deserve nothing short of the happiness you’re feeling now.

And you can’t help but feel the same as Atsumu laughs out a comment about how the universe must really want the two of you together. His arms circle your figure after exchanging a few pleasantries and inside jokes and you smile into the crook of his neck.

“This feels a little like that déjà vu thing ya talked about before, ya know.” He mumbles. And for the brief moment you see Tetsurou’s text on the screen of your phone reading, “whipped.”, you laugh in a way that has you feeling dizzy and light. You feel like you could cry when Atsumu kisses the side of your head, because this moment feels so familiar.

Atsumu feels so familiar. So when you break the embrace and look at the reflection of your watering eyes in the warm pools of his, more than ever, you were sure that this is exactly where the gods meant for you to be.

a/n: *i’m aware there’s no direct flight from haneda/siargao but pls bear w me ;A;

proceed to Epilogue :D

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warmau · 4 years

Text

☆ ko-fi request: [nostalgic] summer romance!johnny au

you don’ t think much of it when the neighbors around you start to talk about the new family that’s moved in up across the street

your parents mention welcoming them with some kind of baked good, but that’s the usual

you are a little grumpy when they choose to send you over instead of going over themselves

and when the door is opened by a small women with a glowing smile, you just hand over the cupcakes and motion down the block

“i have a son your age, he’s out right now but you should meet him sometime.”

you give a polite smile and tell her maybe you’ll bump into him on the street someday

you don’t expect that you’ll actually bump into him at the local ice cream parlor

where he’s standing behind the cash register - wearing that funny looking yellow uniform tshirt and still managing to look like the most attractive human being to grace the planet

his name tag reads ‘johnny’ with a hand-drawn smile face beside it

his hair is slightly long in the front and swopped back under a backwards cap, his smile is just as dazzling as his mothers

but its his eyes that get you the most, an almost autumn chestnut color that sparkles under the florescent lights off the shop

“what would you like to order?”

you try to hand over your five dollar bill for the one scoop of cookie dough that you got but he shoos your hand away and winks

“cute people get the ice cream for free”

you bite back your lip, “does your boss agree with that?”

“what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. by the way, thanks for the cupcakes.”

you blink in surprise and he grins again - this time with a hint of mischief

“you live a couple doors down right?”

you nod slowly, the ice-cream is kind of melting in your hand but you’re so focused on johnny that you don’t even notice

“mm good to know. next?”

you move out of the way, turning to head toward the door

something itches you to look over your shoulder and when you do - you catch johnny peeking your way too

sending you a little goodbye wink as you push the door open and let the summer evening breeze carry you back home

a knock on your door a couple of days laters startles you from your spot on the living room floor - a.c. on full blast to fight off the heat

you think it’s the postman so you don’t care about your rather haphazard appearance - but when you open it

you immediately regret not at least running a hand through your hair (or throwing a blanket over your self) as you see johnny in the door frame

his wide body nearly take up the entire tiny space and he looks you up and down

with a kind of stare that makes something at the core of your stomach twist

“hey - are you free today? my shift at the ice cream place starts at 5 so i was hoping you could hang before then?”

you say you are - but you need to change

johnny pouts, “why, less clothes the better - it’s summer right?”

you don't know if you should roll your eyes or get flustered at the almost greasy one liner

when you come back downstairs, you grab your keys and take a look in the hallway mirror

you look better than before, but you wish you looked just a little bit cuter - which is new, you’ve never really wished for that before

johnny is still on your porch, but he’s closer to the lawn now

you don’t even know what he has in mind - or why he’s decided today of all days to invite you out

the only conversation you’ve ever had was at the ice-cream shop

but for some reason you don’t find yourself second guessing

he nods his head toward the street, where an old but loved car is parked

the top is missing and you look at johnny from the corner of your eye

“is it yours?”

“my dads, but he said if i ever wanted to take someone out - i should do it in style.”

you kind of shift a little and a question burns in the back of your throat - is this a date?

you don’t have the nerve to ask, just letting johnny lead you to the passenger door

“where are we going to go?”

is what you ask instead as he gets the engine going

“where else? the beach!”

the drive is only fifteen minutes, but in that time span you feel like you’re in the slow scene of a movie

your small town has never been interesting, it stopped being new when you turned ten and climbing the rocks and hoping fences became an old habit

you had started instead to dream of big cities and foreign countries - and yet in that second

it had seemed so now, so different

the breeze in your hair, leaning against the door and watching the trees and the people you grew up with fly by in a flash

and then looking over your shoulder to see johnny - the one person you’d just met - feel nostolagically like home

when he’d parked at the edge of the beach you didn’t want to get out almost - but he’d tugged you up and started for a run toward the water

“johnny, i don't have a swimsuit on!”

“here - ill make sure you don’t get wet!”

he’d picked you up effortlessly, wading himself into the water till it was nipping at his ankles and spinning you around

he was a stranger - but he felt like something much more - and it was just natural to wrap your arms around his neck and scream against his skin for him to put you down

even though you didn’t mean it

you spent the next couple of hours chasing each other through the waves that kissed the sand, collecting shells, and just talking

you told johnny about the people here - the shops - the lack of noise, but the abundance of trees

he told you about where he lived before, how it was sort of the same but something about your town was better

“whats better, you’ve only lived here like a week!”

he grins

“well - you’re here. that already makes it better.”

you hadn’t known it yet - but that was your first date - one of many that spanned the blissful summer break

you and johnny spent every day of it together

the only times when you were apart where when he was working his part-time job at the ice cream shop

but even then, you’d meet him after work and he’d drive you two around in circles until it was dark

and he’d take you home, but park a block or two away so you could kiss without any interruption

and johnnys kisses became the flavor of that summer for you, sweet from the ice-cream he sampled but with an edge of sharpness that came from his own personality

he’d kiss you pressed against the hood of his car or in the backseat or under the shade of a tree and he had said something to you that you don’t think you’ll ever hear again in your life

“kissing you is so weird, it’s like i want to kiss you so i do but then i just want to kiss you again and again and again, is that normal?”

you’d laughed against his neck - “of course it’s normal. it’s what i feel too.”

that summer was a summer of first, for everything

your first real love - johnny suh, part time ice-cream shop worker and possibly the brightest person on the planet

your first overnight camping trip without parents - spent with johnny suh in a tent on some rock where when you thought there were bears outside, johnny ran out and said he wasn't afraid of them! in fact he wanted to befriend them! and you’d had to yank him back by his shirt because you didn't want your boyfriend to die

your first real experience - hot large hands of johnny suh and cold lips, his parents were gone for the weekend and you’d both agreed that you had to put music on but argued about which album was the right one for the moment. even though you forgot about it the second he kissed below your collarbone

and your first heartbreak - spent crying on johnny’s doorstep as he and his dad lugged suitcases to the car

he was moving again, he’d only been here for a couple of months

the autumn leaves were just turning brown, school was starting again, life was moving forward and johnny had kissed your forehead

he was moving across the world. he would do anything to take you with him, but you two were young and there were no choices

“ill always remember you - this will be the best summer of my life.”

you look back on it now, how he’d said that and so much more to you

and you wonder, where is he now? he’s probably happy. you hope he’s happy.

you look up from your place in line at the coffee shop and are happy to see that you’re next.

“what would you like to order?”

that voice? no way?

your eyes meet the honey warm glow of autumn chestnuts. the name tag with the hand-drawn happy face. you freeze and time stops.

you’re not an adult anymore, you’re the teenager in the ice-cream shop

and johnny is standing there in that funny uniform tshirt with a smile.

“cute people get the coffee for free.”

#nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct au #johnny au #johnny scenarios #johnny imagines #member: johnny #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 au #nct 127 #johnny suh #sfw

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kxrapika-zxldyck · 3 years

Text

Crying x and x Comfort- A KilluGon hurt/comfort fic

"Kite is... already dead." Those four words echoed through Gon's head, warping and distorting themselves until they were virtually unintelligible.

After a few seconds of trying to process the magnitude of Pitou's words, their meaning finally sunk in. Kite was gone. Gon couldn't save him. He had failed. The minuscule spark of hope left inside him disappeared instantly.

Pitou let Kite fall over, boneless, in front of the distressed boy. Gon gasped, taking a shaky breath as he tried to take in the scene in front of him. He felt his stomach lurch. He tried to speak, but only a strangled gasp came out. His throat was closing up, and his mouth felt dry.

Pitou observed the agonized boy carefully. If he made any sudden movements, it would be likely that he'd die.

Gon's eyes, usually beaming from excitement and charisma, had become grim. An ominous veil of grief and anguish had fallen over them.

"His soul is no longer there... He cannot be healed."

Tears started welling up in the young boy's eyes and he collapsed, his legs no longer able to support the weight of the anguish coursing through his battered body.

At the moment, Gon's mind could easily be compared to a whirling windstorm. Feelings of sadness, despair, and grief all took their place inside of him.

Slowly looking up, Gon could make out Pitou, intensely focused on healing the rest of his arm. The Royal Guard needed to be at full power if he was to defeat the emotionally conflicted threat that lay before him.

Suddenly, the emotions coursing through him dissipated and were replaced with a strong feeling of disbelief and confusion.

"Why are you healing your arm?" Gon heard himself say.

"Turn Kite back to normal!" He pleaded desperately.

A sinister expression appeared on Pitou's face. Gon had obviously not understood the severity of the situation. He was too entangled in his own grief.

"Please, after you finish what you're doing, bring Kite back..." he whispered, his voice raspy and filled with melancholy.

Gon clutched his chest, his heartbreak too severe to handle.

"Kite is... dead and it's my fault..." he murmured, still in disbelief.

"Kite is dead and it's my fault..."

"KITE IS DEAD AND IT'S MY FAULT!"

_____

"GON!"

The distressed boy shot up, gasping for air.

His eyes frantically darted around, trying to make sense of his surroundings.

He suddenly felt a warm hand on his trembling arm.

"Gon! What's wrong? Are you okay?!" Gon hastily jerked his head in the direction of the familiar voice.

Killua.

His eyebrows were furrowed, and he had a concerned expression plastered on his face. Gon's breathing gradually started to slow down.

"Hey Killua... Did I have another nightmare?"

"Yeah, and I think it was a bad one too; you were hyperventilating and whimpering in your sleep."

"Oh... Sorry." Gon muttered, feeling bad because of the disturbance.

He felt Killua's slender fingers gently graze his cheeks.

"You were crying."

The pale boy carefully wiped the trail of tears off of Gon's face.

"Wanna talk about it?"

_____

"It's the same nightmares as usual, about the fight with Pitou two years ago."

Killua sighed softly. He wished that there was a way to forget. He wished that Gon didn't have to feel this way.

Gon continued, anxiously entwining his fingers around the thin sheets on his bed.

"I could've saved Kite. It was my fault. Maybe if I would've been more strategic..."

Killua couldn't stand listening to Gon tear himself apart any longer.

"Gon, stop. You sound insane. This was Pitou's fault. We tried to save Kite; we really did. His fate was in no way your doing." Killua said, slightly twisting the truth, but if it could make Gon feel better, he was willing to do it.

Despite his cold and rough exterior, Killua really did know how to comfort Gon in times like this.

Unfortunately, this did not prevent Gon's tears, as they once again quickly trickled down his rosy cheeks.

"I wish he was still alive." Gon whispered, his voice cracking with emotion.

His tone of voice made Killua's heart feel like it was being shattered into a million pieces. He slowly placed his hands onto Gon's shoulders and pulled him into a tight embrace.

_____

Killua's body, held closely against his own, was a pleasant feeling, Gon decided. He carefully wrapped his arms around the other boy's neck, entwining his fingers in Killua's dishevelled hair.

"I know, me too." Killua answered softly, resting his chin on the crook of Gon's neck.

The two boys sat there, listening to each other's rapid heartbeats, absorbing body heat. Gon's tremulous breaths became slower, and eventually started to return back to normal. He could feel Killua's fluffy hair tickling his skin, making him crack a faint smile.

"Hey Gon, wanna go on a walk to clear your mind?"

Gon sighed, taking a deep breath.

"Sure."

Nights on Whale Island were especially mild and pleasant this time of year. Gon felt the gentle ocean breeze caress his face as he stepped outside. He inhaled deeply and glanced over to where Killua was standing.

Killua Zoldyck.

The boy that he had spent the last three years of his life with. His accomplice. His travel partner.

His best friend.

"What are you looking at, dummy?"

Gon was seized from his daydreams, looking up to Killua's face, which appeared to be twisted in confusion.

"Oh, nothing. I'm just... really glad you're here with me, Killua."

Gon saw a faint blush appear on Killua's cheeks. The flustered boy quickly looked away.

"You can't just say things like that!"

Gon smiled softly, slowly tearing his eyes off of Killua's reddened face.

"Let's go."

_____

"Where are you taking me, Gon?"

Killua was being led through the forest, trying to keep up with Gon, who was swiftly darting past trees with a determined look on his face.

"Wait and see."

After a few minutes of desperately trying to match Gon's superhuman speed and agility, the two boys finally made it to a clearing in the forest. There was a small beach on the other side, hidden from the main area of the island.

Gon gestured to Killua, urging him to sit down.

_____

The two boys were laying with their backs to the sand, heads tilted towards the star-speckled sky.

"Aunt Mito used to take me here whenever I got upset. She said the ocean waves were like a lullaby, and listening to the gentle sway of the waves would coax me back to sleep."

"Hey Gon..." Killua said, dismissing the other boy's previous statement "... I get them too."

Gon shifted slightly, facing Killua, a curious look on his face.

"... The nightmares, I mean."

Gon silently urged the other boy to continue.

"Mine are usually about my assassin training. I have this recurring dream about being forced to kill innocent bystanders for the approval of my parents. My big brother Illumi is always behind me, manipulating me, no- controlling me with his needles."

"Those nightmares are the worst. They're the ones that leave me gasping for air, panicked and unaware that I've woken up. Yeah, they can be traumatizing, but you need to remember that the nightmares aren't real. They're just bits of memories from the past that have come back to haunt you."

"The thing is, we've already experienced different versions our nightmares. We were brave enough to surpass them in real life. The unpleasant memories stored in our subconcious don't mean anything anymore. What's in the past is in the past."

Killua paused, not bothering to examine the expression on Gon's face.

"Obviously, it sucks. Sometimes I wish we could've just had a normal life together, without the pain and wounds. But because of it, we are strong. We've trained, fought, gained, and lost way more than anyone of our age, hell, more than most adults. That's what makes us who we are today."

Gon's vision started getting blurry from the amount of tears welling up in his eyes.

"So you shouldn't be worried about the nightmares anymore, Gon. I'll always be there to protect you."

Gon inhaled shakily, processing the last part of Killua's speech.

"Killua..."

The pale-faced teen finally looked over to where Gon was laying. His eyes widened at the intensity of emotions written on the other boy's face.

"Thank you, Killua."

_____

And so, the two boys watched the sunrise from the ocean, together. Gon knew he would cherish this moment forever. The view was picturesque.

The morning sun was reflected off of Killua's pasty white skin, his eyes glowing with astonishment at the mix of colours and hues painted across the ombre sky.

Gon could stare into his vivid blue eyes forever.

Killua rolled onto his side, facing his friend. Soft smiles crept onto both of their faces.

In that moment, they both realized how lucky they were to have each other.

~♡~

#killua zoldyck #gon freecss #killua #gon #hurt/comfort #fanfic #fic #fanfiction #gonkillu #killugon #freedyck #hxh #hunter x hunter #gay #angst #hxh angst #anime

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maria-scribbles · 4 years

Text

loyalty’s all i got | part two

three years ago, you had it all: great friends, good grades, and an almost perfect relationship with your boyfriend, jj. it all came crashing down when your mom relocated your family to california for work and you were forced to trade the outer banks for malibu, leaving your broken heart behind in the place you were just starting to think of as home. now you're back in town for college and to pick up the pieces, hoping to make things right again with your friends and the boy you never stopped loving.

word count: 8.6k+

ship: jj maybank x female!reader, pogue friendship

warnings n stuff: angst angst angst all around (with a happy ending tho!!), the reader being a v. sad girl, mentions of anxiety/depression, failed long distance relationship, drifting apart, self-inflicted loneliness/isolation, the classic trope of 'they broke up but they're still in love with each other' that gives me feels, swearing (it's not my writing unless someone says 'fuck' at least once), reconciliation/mended relationships, traditional cheesy rom-com rain scene 'cause i'm a Dramatic Hoe™

a/n: and here's the second and final part of this looooong two-shot! thank you all so much for reading and i hope you enjoy the finale even though i low key kind of hate it 🙃. fun fact: surfrider beach is a real place in malibu known for its great waves :) also i apologize for how long this took to post, i dropped my laptop and the screen broke so i had to wait for it to get fixed lmao. unbetaed as usual, any mistakes are my b.

~masterlist~

part two: like a ghost that no one knew

When you said goodbye to your friends three years ago, you should've known things would never be the same again. You were sixteen, still so young and naïve and full of an almost childlike hope that kept you from seeing the obvious: life wasn't fair. Sometimes, you could be holding all the right cards and still lose the game.

It should've been easy. You had a video chat schedule already figured out, promises of daily texts and Snapchats, a boyfriend willing -enthusiastically willing, in fact- to go long distance and make it work no matter what 'cause you both agreed that what you had was something worth fighting for. You and your friends had weathered many storms together, what was one more? It could've been easy but you underestimated just how cruel California would be.

You traded one coast for the other and watched the sun set over the Pacific alone when you would've given anything to watch it rise over the Atlantic with your friends. It hurt to surf solo but you did it anyway, even though it felt like a damn sucker punch each time you caught yourself scanning the sand for JJ and his proud smile when you successfully caught bigger and bigger waves at Surfrider Beach.

Long distance was hard. You had days where all you wanted to do was lay on your bed for hours, safely curled up in his arms as he ran his fingers through your hair but you had to settle for his voice over the phone and one of his shirts from your closet instead. You missed everything about him: his pretty eyes that looked like the clearest ocean, the cheeky grin he'd send your way after making a stupid joke that had you affectionately rolling your eyes in exasperation, that adorable flush that spread across his face without fail each and every time you said you loved him. You longed for his constant affection; the way he always wanted to keep you close somehow, his arm around your shoulders, hand in your back pocket, or fingers entwined with yours; how he could never go a day without kissing you. Being apart was nothing short of torture.

"I fucking miss you." He said late one night during a rare FaceTime session -his phone was a piece of shit so he had to 'borrow' John B's whenever he could- and you smiled despite the knife twisting itself deeper and deeper into your heart as you played with the fraying sleeve of his old sweatshirt you wore.

"I fucking miss you more, J." You whispered back, giggling quietly when he scrunched up his nose in playful skepticism.

"Yeah, I don't think so, babe. There's no way."

"Yes, way!"

Although it hurt like hell, you imagined being tangled up with him in the hammock hanging in the Chateau's yard under the North Carolina sky -the light from the moon would turn his blond hair a pale silver as he grinned down at you and cupped your cheek in his hand, closing that final distance between you for a kiss that'd fuel the fire racing through your veins- and you let that fleeting happiness carry you through the night, long after you said goodbye. You fell asleep with your phone in your hand, unaware that your mother had been listening from the other side of your closed door.

You'd been distant from her and your dad in the months since the move, obviously going out of your way to avoid them both by spending all your spare time surfing at the beach, coming home well past sunset and heading straight to your room without a word. They'd taught you forgiveness wasn't something to be given willingly -it had to be earned- and since neither of them had done anything worthy to deserve an absolution, you simply pretended they didn't exist and let yourself stew in your justified anger.

Until the morning after your video date with JJ, they'd wisely given you your space so you were pretty blind sighted to find them both waiting for you at the dining room table, one of your dad's famous cinnamon rolls on a plate set in front of your usual chair. You paused in the middle of tying one of your boyfriend's worn bandanas in your hair before abruptly continuing toward the front door, acting like you didn't see the hopeful looks on their faces that made guilt slowly start to burrow its way into your chest.

"Y/N, wait," Your dad sprung from his seat and reached his hand out toward your elbow, his face falling when you instantly pulled back and crossed your arms. "Please, let's just talk for a second."

"I'm gonna be late for the bus," You lied and tried for the door again, sighing in frustration when he blocked your path and ushered you toward the table where your mom was sitting, biting her thumbnail. The guilt burrowed deeper: you thought she kicked that habit years ago but there she was, chewing her nail to shreds and it was all because of you (the empty satisfaction you felt knowing you were the cause of her stress made you hate yourself just a little more.).

"Jellybean, don't worry about that. I'll drive you."

You bristled at the old nickname but sat in the chair your dad pulled out for you anyway. The smell of the cinnamon roll he pushed your way made your mouth water but you refused to eat and kept your eyes down as you played with the stack of bracelets adorning your wrist. "You wanted to talk?" You asked, deciding to just rip the band-aid off all at once 'cause knowing your mom when she was anxious and your dad being allergic to any type of confrontation, you'd have sat there all day until one of them worked up the courage to speak.

"Talk, right." Bill said with a nervous chuckle, shaking his head as he took a seat and swiped his own cinnamon roll from the pan in the middle of the table. "Uh, how are you?"

"Are you serious right now?" You asked incredulously, looking up from your lap with a raised eyebrow. "All this for 'how are you?'"

"How would we know?" Your mom finally spoke up as she pulled her ruined nail from her mouth, only to start instantly drumming her fingers on the table. "You're always holed up in your room or at the beach, Y/N. You never talk to us anymore."

You rolled your eyes before fixing her with a deadpan stare. "Hmm, I wonder why."

"Honey, you know I'm sorry-"

"Don't, okay? Just don't." You swallowed thickly and dumped the cinnamon roll back into the pan, blinking away the awful burning pressure building behind your eyes. "I can't listen to some half-assed apology that you don't mean!"

"Y/N, we are sorry. Everything's gonna get better, just give it time." Your dad's reply was muffled by a mouthful of pastry and any other time, you'd usually be laughing at his chipmunk cheeks but instead you just stared back down at your hands again, lip quivering as you tried and failed to hold yourself together. You would not cry. You would not cry. You would not-

"Please, honey." Your mom tentatively reached out one hand like she was approaching a wounded animal, her voice so soft you could barely hear it above the rush of blood in your ears. "It hurts us to see you like this-"

Oh, fuck this shit.

"You're hurt?! Are you kidding me?" Your chair scraped along the tile as you rocketed to your feet, vision blurring when the dam finally broke. "You promised we wouldn't move again until after I graduated and you broke that promise. I let myself make friends for once in my goddamn life -I fucking fell in love, Mom! I fell in love with the most amazing boy who, by some miracle loves me, too despite me being a...a complete loser!" You were rambling now but you couldn't find it in yourself to care about or stop the words flying from your mouth.

"God, I was happy -so, so disgustingly happy it kind of scared me, okay?" You laughed bitterly and roughly wiped the tears from your cheeks, only to have more immediately take their place. "And you didn't even stop to think before you took it all away from me! So don't even talk to me about being hurt 'cause you have no fucking idea!"

Your dad was frozen, eyes the same color as your own blown impossibly wide in the middle of another bite of cinnamon roll while your mom, two tears streaking perfect twin tracks down her cheeks, looked at you like you'd just told her the world was ending -to her, it just might've been but to you, it already had. Neither of them said another word as you snatched your backpack off the couch and stormed from the house, slamming the door behind you.

Halfway to the bus stop, you decided school just wasn't in the cards that day and doubled back, hiding behind the shed in your backyard until your tears had run dry and both of your parents left -Rebekah to the hospital, Bill to wherever he went while you were in class- before heading inside to change into your rash vest and grab your board. Despite it being early Friday morning, Surfrider Beach was full of life and you welcomed the hustle and bustle as you turned off your phone and buried it at the bottom of your bag, leaving your problems behind on the sand.

You spent the whole day at the beach, blissfully alone and free to do what you wanted, until the sun dipped low in the sky and you were too exhausted to even think about anything but dragging yourself home so you could pass the fuck out. You caught one final wave before heading back to shore, waving goodbye to the group of other kids you'd surfed with all day (the one thing you loved about California: everyone was so chill) and trudged through the sand toward your things where, just as you expected, your sister sat on your towel, clad in a baggy UCLA long-sleeve with her phone in hand.

"Bitch, you killed it out there!" She looked up as you dropped your board to the ground and sat down heavily beside her, slipping an old Kildare County High School sweatshirt -the first one you ever 'borrowed' from your boyfriend, much to his delight- over your head. "I mean, look at you go!"

You leaned closer to watch the video she took, the barest hint of a smile on your face when you watched yourself perform a near perfect cutback on the screen. "That's 'cause I had the best teacher."

Daisy tagged you and posted it to Instagram before you could protest, then tossed the phone back into her bag and turned to you with a forced cheerfulness that kind of made you want to smack her. "So..."

"Mom and Dad sent you to clean up their mess." You finished quietly, tucking your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around them as your sister sighed dramatically and offered a sympathetic wince.

"As always." She copied your position and you both stared out at the sun sinking over the water, its fading rays turning the sky brilliant shades of orange and pink. It was typical of your parents to send Daisy after you when you were upset -after all, you'd both been each other's only friend for over half your lives- and normally, you'd be glad to see your sister's friendly face instead of your mom's or dad's. That evening, though? All you felt was...disappointment.

"Guess they really don't give a shit about me." You mumbled under your breath, half-hoping Daisy didn't hear you but from the way she snapped her head in your direction, you didn't get your wish.

"Y/N, that's not it. They're just..."

"Just what? Pretending that they didn't stab me in the back? Acting like everything's all hunky-dory and they actually cared about my feelings?"

You hastily wiped at your face when your sister silently looped an arm around your shoulders and tucked you against her side, her fingers running soothingly through the ends of your damp hair as you vented all of your frustrations -everything you'd kept locked deep inside your heart- until your voice was hoarse and the sun had long disappeared from the horizon and you had no tears left to cry.

"You have no idea what it's like, being so lonely it hurts to breathe. It hurts knowing Mom and Dad have each other and you have Daniel and I'm alone all the time." You lifted your head from her shoulder and rubbed your red eyes with your sleeve. "Worst part is, they just keep acting like I'll wake up one day and magically be okay and everything'll be all sunshine and rainbows again."

"First off, I wanna say that I'm sorry for not making more time for you. I knew you were struggling and I'm a terrible big sister for not being here for you like I should have," You squeezed Daisy's other hand in thanks as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, her voice soft and steady like the waves crashing against the shore. "Second, I definitely don't think Mom and Dad are handling this the way they should, but I think they're trying in the only way they know how. That should count for something, right?"

You sighed and tugged the sleeves of your sweatshirt over your hands. "I guess, but they haven't even tried to see where I'm coming from and they don't get that I'm not the only one they hurt. If I have to hear one more half-assed apology, I'm gonna lose my shit. Again."

"I'm not saying you have to forgive them right away 'cause I sure as hell wouldn't until they say they're sorry and mean it. But..." She said, pulling you to your feet and shaking the sand from the towel you were sitting on, "you shouldn't keep shutting them out, okay? It's not healthy."

You tucked your board under your arm as Daisy grabbed your bag and swung it onto her shoulder before you both started walking toward the parking lot. "What if I'm never ready to forgive them?"

"That's a question I don't have the answer to." She said with a shrug. "You've gotta figure that one out for yourself."

So you followed your sister's advice. You were civil and gradually, your relationship with your parents improved until you could stand to be in the same room as them and even carry on a short conversation, even though you knew you'd probably never be able to fully trust them again. You caught them exchanging glances you could only describe as wounded when you often turned down their invitations to go to the movies or get ice cream or other things you used to love doing when you were younger but for the most part, they took it in stride and you were grateful for their little efforts. Forgiveness wasn't in the cards quite yet but with each passing day, you felt the icy wall around your heart slowly start to melt away.

But every time you thought you were taking one step forward, life pushed you two steps back. Just when you were getting things back on track with your family, the train went flying off the rails when it came to your friends and it was all your fault.

It wasn't like you didn't try -God, did you try- to keep yourself from falling back into old habits but Malibu just had a way of bringing out the absolute worst in you. Your old self, the girl who kept to herself and pushed everyone away, someone you thought you buried in the deepest grave, slowly came back from the dead with a vengeance little by little, so subtly you didn't realize what was happening until it was too late.

One missed phone call turned into two, texts went unanswered for days or not at all, FaceTime sessions happened less and less. The last video chat had been with Kiara and it ended terribly, after you blew up at her for mending her friendship with Sarah Cameron in the near two years since you'd been gone, spitting words you couldn't quite remember -something along the lines of 'didn't take you too long to replace me, huh' and calling the blonde girl a 'heinous bitch'- but knew you regretted with everything you had and hanging up before she had a chance to explain. You couldn't even recall the last time you talked to Pope or John B aside from the occasional Snapchat and your daily calls with JJ had turned to once a week, if you were lucky.

He was trying, you could tell, and so were you but the deck was stacked against you and you were never very good at cards, anyway. It hurt to try, it hurt not to try, everything just hurt. Nearly two years apart had done their damage and coupled with your debilitating fear of being forgotten that clawed at your chest like a rabid dog, your relationship was on unstable ground and for the first time in almost four years, you were thinking about the end. It wasn't like you didn't love him anymore (holy shit, were you still completely head over heels in love). In fact, you loved him so much you realized that he could do so, so much better than you and the thought rested heavy and bittersweet on your mind, lurking in the shadows until you were ready to bring it to light.

It happened on New Year's Eve. Alone in your room, your hands shook as you answered JJ's call at midnight, his voice tired and a little hoarse from celebrating the new year three hours earlier on the opposite coast and you nearly started crying right then and there when you replied with a shaky "I think we need to talk."

"Babe, what's wrong?"

You took a deep breath and said quietly, "Everything."

"Talk to me." The pure concern in those three words nearly convinced you to call it off, to tell him to forget you said anything and that you were fine, everything was just fine but deep down, you knew you couldn't.

"I've been thinking about us and I...I just think that you deserve better than me. Someone who can actually be there for you when you need her and hold you when your dad's an asshole and see you every day. Someone who can laugh at your silly jokes and share a joint with you and clean you up when you get into fights defending your friends-"

"Babe, what are you talking about? That girl is you."

"Maybe I was but I'm not anymore and I don't think I have been since I left. I just can't be the girl you want, I can't be the girl you deserve, J -I'm a total fucking mess and you can do so, so much better than me."

"Y/N."

You didn't know you were crying until you heard the broken way he breathed your name and salt water dripped from your chin onto the bracelet around your wrist.

"...are you breaking up with me?" His voice was impossibly small, the quietest you'd ever heard it and the exact moment your battered heart shattered into pieces was when you realized he didn't even put up a fight.

"I think so." The words tore through you like a gunshot as you cried, curling into yourself on the bed in an effort to ward off the worst pain you'd ever felt in your life and you wondered if it was possible to die from a wound that wasn't even physical.

He was quiet for a long time, so long you thought he hung up without you noticing through your tears, until he sniffed on the other end of the line.

"Guess we had a pretty good run, huh?" He asked with a watery chuckle and you found yourself giving a tiny, shuddering giggle in response -God, even when you were breaking his heart he still managed to make you laugh.

"The best, baby." The pet name slipped out like second nature and you winced, hastily trying to cover your mistake with an awkward cough but from the sharp breath you heard him take, he'd heard it anyway.

("I'm sorry," you said, and it stood as an apology for more than just your slip-up.)

"I love you, Y/N. Probably always will."

"I'll never stop loving you, JJ. That's a promise."

You let yourself believe him as you laid there bleeding from a gash you couldn't see, a wound you knew would never heal, and you hoped he let himself believe you, too, even when you ended the call without another word and threw your phone away from you, not bothering to see where it landed. The sound of your heavy, broken sobs filled the room and you didn't even mind when your mom, who you knew had been listening from the other side of your closed door like always, barged in and took you into her arms, stroking your hair as you cried into her lap.

If you were supposed to avoid getting hurt by leaving first, why did it feel like everything in you was broken? If you were making the right choice, why did it feel so wrong? You didn't have the answers and no matter how hard you searched, you knew you'd ever find them.

So you tried to stay busy. You joined the surf club at school, got a part-time job at the local aquarium, did anything you could to distract yourself from the hurt and the guilt and the way getting out of bed every morning was the hardest thing to do. Surf club introduced you to Mackenzie, the one girl who was more ostracized at school -an even richer version of the kook academy you hated -than you, her for being freakishly tall and you for your East Coast attitude, and the two of you became fast, if reluctant friends. Mack didn't try to stitch the gaping hole in your heart caused by your absent friends but she numbed the pain just enough to make it bearable and you were grateful for her calm, steady presence at your side, even as you both tried to keep each other at arm's length.

Later, you found out she was just like you, friendless and awkward with no self-esteem and a tendency to push people away, and that just cemented your friendship through the summer and your final year of high school.

Mack told you all about her life, growing up with no siblings, having height that she never learned to deal with, and a debilitating social anxiety that made making friends near impossible, and in turn you told her about how you hopped from town to town on your mother's whims, the wonderful friends you let slip away, and the beautiful boyfriend you loved enough to let go, and you both cried together for the lives you could've led.

"You two looked so happy," She said during the first sleepover you hosted as she held one of the many picture frames littering your dresser, her lips turned upwards in a small smile.

You gently took the frame from her hands and ran your fingers over the grinning face of your ex-boyfriend, his arms wrapped around your shoulders as your painted lips planted a deep red kiss on his cheek, and the wave of longing washing over you was almost strong enough to bring you to your knees. "It was the happiest I've ever been."

"Do you miss him?"

"So much it hurts."

i miss you.

i'm so sorry.

i still love you.

You'd typed and erased those texts every day but never mustered the courage to hit send and you couldn't decide if that was a blessing in disguise or the worst possible curse. Of course you still loved JJ: you promised you would and even if you didn't, you couldn't stop if you tried. He was your first love, the boy you so willingly gave your whole heart and then some; you still kept his ring on your thumb -the one he gave you at the airport the day you left- and his bracelet around your wrist, his bandanas in your hair and his face in your dreams and you knew you always would.

Before you could blink, your eighteenth birthday flew by and graduation was upon you.

You thought the second you were done with high school you'd be gone, heading straight back to the Outer Banks and the life you left behind but you found yourself stalling on sending in an application to UNC -Chapel Hill until you missed the deadline for the fall semester. On the outside, you made up a semi-legit excuse about getting your basic courses done at a community college to save money but deep down you really knew why you procrastinated: you were terrified to go back. Ever since your break up with JJ, you hadn't spoken to him or any of your old friends other than the obligatory birthday wishes on Facebook and you wondered if the damage you'd done over the years was too much to come back from, even as you tried to work up the courage to find out for sure.

Another year passed: in between earning college credits, you and Daisy took a sister's trip to Disneyland, Mack asked you to tag along on a jaunt up the coast to San Francisco to see Alcatraz, your parents celebrated their 25th wedding anniversary (your gift was long-overdue forgiveness and they said it was the greatest thing you possibly could've given them). When the time came, you and Mack both sent out your applications to UNC -you for biology, her for chemistry- and the myriad of emotions you felt when you got in was nothing short of dizzying. The old you was terrified, screaming at you to rip up the letter and join your sister at UCLA instead of opening old wounds but the hopeful you, the girl who lived without fear, the girl who fell in love and let herself be loved, screamed louder.

And so you killed the old you once again, burying her even deeper than the last time in a locked chest and throwing the key as far as you could out into the Pacific where you knew you'd never find it. You clutched your acceptance letter close to your chest and took a step east, away from California and toward the place where your broken heart still rested, scattered in pieces across the sand.

Settling in at UNC was surprisingly easy. You and Mack already clicked pretty well as friends so making the transition to roommates was natural and, dare you say it, even a little fun and the two of you quickly fell into a comfortable routine in your tiny apartment off campus in Chapel Hill. Comfortable and yet...that happiness you once felt all those years ago was missing from your life and you found yourself just as restless as you were in Malibu. While you knew exactly what you needed to do, that fear kept rearing its ugly head in the back of your mind, poisoning your thoughts: what if they wouldn't be happy to see you, what if they forgot about you, what if they hated you? What if he hated you?

It was terrifying, picturing yourself turning up at the Chateau with a hopeful smile only to have the door slammed right in your face. Deep down, you knew they'd never do that to you no matter how badly you'd hurt them but when you'd spent your whole life expecting the worst, taking a leap of faith wasn't an easy feat -something Mack just couldn't wrap her head around.

"I don't get it."

You glanced up from where you were lounging on your bed, flipping through your biology notes in preparation for your lab exam the next morning and shot your roommate a confused look. "Get what?”

Mack sat at your desk, her own notebooks lying ignored as she spun the chair around to face you, arms crossed. "Why you haven't hopped on that ferry to go get your man yet!"

You froze for a moment too long before offering a half-hearted shrug as you fiddled with the beads at the end of your bracelet. "It's not that easy. He probably wants nothing to do with me and I don't blame him."

"How do you know? You haven't talked to JJ in over a year, right?" At your tight nod, she continued, "What if he's just like you-"

"Depressed?"

Mack fixed you with a flat, unamused look. "Still in love, dumbass."

You scoffed and propped your chin in your hand as you glanced back down at your study guide, trying not to latch onto that little thought -hope and pain all rolled into one- that sparked to life at her words. He'd said he would probably always love you that New Year's Eve and back then you'd let yourself believe him but now, you weren't so sure. "Yeah, right. No way he's still...still in love with me after I broke his heart."

"Maybe he is, maybe he isn't," Your roommate said with a shrug, spinning around on the chair to grab her things. "You'll never know if you don't get over there, track his fine ass down, and talk to him."

You stared down at your notes without actually seeing anything, the slanted letters of your handwriting blurring before your eyes as the other girl flipped her chemistry book closed and stood, shooting you an warm smile that you didn't see.

"Listen, Y/N, you're my best friend and I want to see you happy more than anything but I can't take that jump for you. Yeah, it's scary and nerve wracking and you might end up hurt worse than before, so what? That's just...life."

Mack left after that, crossing the apartment to her room so she could get ready for a date with a girl from her psych class, leaving you alone with tears on your face and a million thoughts in your head, all of them terrifying and exciting and oh so loud.

She was right, of course -Mack always knew the right thing to say- and as you stared down at the bracelets on your wrists and the ring on your thumb, the pictures on your phone and the too-big shirt hanging off one shoulder, you realized sitting around moping wasn't gonna solve anything; if you wanted your happiness, your friends, the love of your life back, you needed to step up and fight for them with everything you had. And so you wiped the tears from your cheeks and walked to the cliff's edge with your head held high, ready for the fall and whatever came with it. You were ready to fix your mistakes, no matter how badly it might hurt.

Still, you couldn't do it all on your own. You needed some help to make things right again and while you knew just who to ask, you weren't quite sure if they'd be willing to lend a hand. Desperate times called for desperate measures though and you penned a good old-fashioned letter, feeling like a heroine in a Jane Austen novel as you poured all your thoughts -your dreams, wishes, hopes- onto a piece of paper in bold blue ink and sent it off to its destination on Figure 8, your Hail Mary for a happy ending sealed up neatly in a single envelope.

Mack, bless her heart, did her best to keep your spirits up as you waited on a response but even her ever reassuring presence couldn't keep you from worrying as one week passed by, then two. Halfway through the third you'd almost given up, already wracking your brain for another way to make your plan work when your phone chimed with a text from an unknown number.

i'll help you

And just like that, the moment you'd been waiting for was finally within your reach; you told your parents not to expect you for Thanksgiving break, called your sister for a much needed pep talk, and started counting down the days until you'd see your friends again, for better or worse.

When you left the Outer Banks three years ago, it was sunny. You were sixteen, young and in love and scared about the future.

When you returned, it was in the middle of a storm. You were nineteen, a little bit older but no less in love and definitely still scared about what was waiting for you at the end of the road.

Rain pounded against the roof of Sarah Cameron's SUV as she drove away from the docks and toward the Chateau, her fingers tapping along to the music playing quietly through the radio. You sat in the passenger seat, soaked to the bone from your ferry ride from the mainland and shaking like a leaf despite the towel wrapped around your shoulders and the warm air flowing from the car's vents.

"Thanks for coming to get me," You said, wincing at the awkward lilt of your voice echoing in the small space as you spun JJ's ring around your thumb and stared out the windshield at the familiar sights streaking by in blurred shades of green and brown. Being back opened a Pandora's box of emotions in your head, both good and bad, and instead of trying to sort them out, you let them bounce around in your brain like a pinball machine and concentrated on methodically twirling the warm metal ring in circles on your finger.

Sarah briefly glanced away from the road to shoot you a small smile, her kind eyes softening at your visible nervousness. "Not gonna lie, I was pretty sure you hated me so when I got your letter it kinda...threw me for a loop. Sorry it took me so long to reply."

You wished the heated leather seat would swallow you whole as you winced again and wrapped the towel tighter around your shoulders. "For the longest time, I thought I did hate you but I realized I was just...scared of losing my friends and I took it out on you. You didn't deserve to be labeled the villain in my story when I was the one, um, sabotaging myself, I guess." You took a deep breath and picked at a loose thread tickling your arm. "And I'm really, really grateful for your help."

It was more than you wanted to admit out loud -nearly the same words were written in the letter peeking out from the center console of the car- but at the same time, you knew it was what needed to be said and from the way the blonde girl's fingers stopped tapping against the steering wheel, she knew she needed to hear it. At a red light, she quickly tapped out a text on her phone before tossing in back into her bag with another tiny grin in your direction.

"Happy to help. For what it's worth, I'm so sorry if I made you feel like you were being replaced, I never intended to hurt you or steal your friends or...or, I don't know, usurp-"

"Sarah, stop. Please," You held up a hand to cut off her apology and offered her a self-deprecating smile. "I'm the one who's sorry. I let my...jealousy get the best of me and I feel so bad about all the shit I said 'cause that wasn't fair to you at all and I hope you can forgive me-"

"Y/N, there's nothing to forgive! We all say stupid shit when we're mad -trust me, I know." She interrupted with a bubbly, contagious giggle that seemed to scare away the gloomy storm clouds gathered over your head for a moment in time. "But I was never pissed at you, ever. I just want you to know that."

Stunned, you settled deeper into the seat and started playing with your ring again as she kept driving on, unbothered by your lack of response. You felt like you were thirteen again, back when Sarah and Kiara were your only friends, before the birthday disaster and the whole pogue versus kook feud that got completely out of hand; it felt...nice and you found yourself hoping that the blonde girl would still want to be your friend again, no matter what the others thought about your sudden return.

"Thank you."

Sarah gave no indication she heard your quiet confession of gratitude but from the way you watched her smile grow out of the corner of your eye, you knew she did. The rest of the drive passed in companionable silence as you retreated into your own thoughts, your nerves getting worse and worse the closer you got to your destination.

You took a deep breath and let it out slowly through your nose, feeling like your heart was trying to beat its way through your rib cage. You hadn't been this anxious in a long, long time, so long you almost forgot how much you hated the tightness in your chest, how your palms would start to sweat, the way you'd chew the inside of your cheek until you tasted blood on your tongue. By the time Sarah pulled into an open spot beside the achingly familiar Volkswagen parked in front of the Chateau, you were surprised you were still able to breathe.

The sight of the tiny house, one you spent so many carefree days and beautiful nights in alongside your friends, standing virtually unchanged in front of you was like a shot to the heart and your hands, curled into fists on your lap, began to shake without warning. Shit, you were a godforsaken mess; how the hell were you supposed to do this without having a mental breakdown?

"I'm so scared."

The whispered words, barely audible over the torrential rain against the roof, slipped from your mouth before you could stop them and Sarah slowly reached one hand over to give your trembling wrist a reassuring squeeze, the corners of her mouth curled upward in a slight smile.

"Don't be. They're gonna be so happy to see you!"

You turned to look at her, eyebrows knit together in disbelief. "How are you so sure they still care about me?"

"I'm sure 'cause I've seen it. My God, if only you could've heard all the times they talked about you -'I wish Y/N was here,' 'remember that time with Y/N,' hell, just straight 'I miss Y/N so fucking much,'" She said bluntly and shifted in the driver's seat to face you head on, smiling wider at the thunderstruck look on your face. "Pretty sure I haven't gone a week without JJ saying that last one at least once."

"I thought..." You paused, tongue darting out to run over your dry lips as you tried to put your jumbled feelings into words, "I thought he'd hate me -I mean, after all I've done, you think he still..."

"Loves you? Are you kidding?" Her reply was so enthusiastic it was hard not to believe her as she went on, her words like sunshine brightening the darkest corners of your mind. "He's still head over heels, I've never seen him even look at another girl in three damn years. You know he still wears your necklace, the one with the silver star? Kie told me all about it."

"I-I didn't." You remembered giving it to him the day you left, managing a shaky smile through your tears as you carefully clasped it around his neck, your fingers running over his skin as you settled the charm perfectly alongside that little shark tooth you'd grown to love.

('Be careful with this, baby. It's my favorite.' You had said, crying harder when he'd taken off one of his rings and slipped it onto your thumb.

'Well, this one's my favorite so take good care of it, okay?' His voice had been light but his eyes were heavy with unspoken words that you'd heard loud and clear because you knew your gaze said the exact same things.

don't let me go

don't break my heart

don't stop loving me)

You coughed to disguise the fat tears that started rolling down your face, quickly wiping them away with your sleeve but the blonde girl wasn't fooled as she gave your hand another friendly squeeze.

"Come on, they're probably wondering what's taking me so long," She sent a conspiratorial wink your way and grabbed her bag from the center console. "I told them I was picking up some pizzas but I have a funny feeling they won't be too pissed that I lied."

With a desperate grip on the strap of your backpack and your heart racing, you trailed behind Sarah through the rain to the front porch.

"Ready?" She glanced back where you lingered at the top of the stairs, anxiously shuffling from foot to foot, and shot you a smile that did little to calm your nerves. "Just wait here!"

She knocked on the door before you could reply and yelled loud enough to be heard over the pouring rain, "Hey, it's me! Can somebody get the door? My hands are kinda full."

"Got it!"

Your bag slipped from your fingers and fell onto the porch with a loud thump at the sound of the voice floating through the open windows, a voice you heard nearly every night as you slept, in your dreams of a future you wanted with everything you had. You knew it better than your knew your own, knew every pitch and tone and lilt; quiet and raspy in the mornings when you woke up in each other's arms, loud and carefree during long days spent under the golden sun with the rest of your friends, soft and warm and laid bare at night when he showed how much he loved you with more than just words.

Sarah gave you an enthusiastic thumbs up before stepping to the side just as the door opened and you suddenly found yourself struggling to breathe as you stared into the wide blue eyes of your ex-boyfriend. JJ stared right back, one of the hands you used to hold clenched so tight around the doorknob his knuckles were white, the lips you used to kiss parted in surprise, the blond hair you used to run your fingers through falling onto his forehead like always and the familiar, beautiful sight of him standing close enough to touch made your knees weak.

"You're not pizza."

It was such a JJ thing to say and you didn't know whether to laugh or cry as you swallowed thickly and shook your head. "Sorry to disappoint you."

"I'm not."

"Oh."

Hope flared white hot in your chest at his words but it quickly started to fade, replaced by fear when he made no move toward you, his fingers still gripping tight to the door, and you felt your face start to heat in embarrassment as Sarah looked back and forth between the two of you like she was watching a tennis match.

God, you were so stupid. What did you expect would happen, showing up out of the blue after over a year of no contact? Everything would fall into place again with just one long, heavy look? Believing it could be that easy turned you into a complete and total fool, tongue-tied and insecure and weak.

"Yo, what's the hold up?" John B's voice asked from inside the house and Sarah leaned down to call through the open window, "Come out here and find out!"

A wave of dizziness hit you like a truck and you took a sudden step back toward the stairs, arms wrapping around your stomach as it twisted itself into knots. "I'm sorry, I-I shouldn't have come. This was a mistake." You didn't notice the stricken look that crossed JJ's face or the three familiar, stunned expressions that appeared behind him in the darkened doorway before turning away and stumbling off the porch toward the road, leaving your bag behind and you definitely didn't notice how you barely made it off the bottom stair before a set of footsteps hastily gave chase.

"It wasn't a mistake, Y/N!" JJ's desperate voice stopped you in your tracks, halfway across the yard with more than just rain running down your face. "Not to me, never to me."

His soft touch on your wrist sent shockwaves through your body and you instantly became putty in his hands, letting him turn you around without a fight to face him, watching in fascination as the downpour started to darken his gray shirt and flatten his hair against his forehead. Three years hadn't changed much about him -he was a little taller, hair a little longer, the muscles in his arms a little more defined- and when you met his wide-eyed gaze, beads of rain dripping from his long eyelashes like diamonds, you wondered if he was thinking about the differences time created between the younger you of the past and the you of the right now, too.

"Oh." You repeated dumbly, struggling for something, anything to say that didn't make you sound like an illiterate fool. Even at nineteen, words still weren't your strong suit so you let your actions speak for you as your hand reached out on its own accord to caress the silver star still clasped around his neck, the thumb still wearing his ring brushing slowly against the dip between his collarbones; he shivered, and you weren't really sure if it was from your touch or the cold.

"Y/N." JJ said your name like a prayer, like he couldn't believe you were there in front of him, and you inhaled sharply when both of his hands slowly, carefully moved to cup your face, his calloused thumbs habitually wiping the tears from your cheeks over and over, even as more instantly replaced the ones he swept away. "I fucking missed you."

You stood there, looking like a damned drowned rat with your hair dripping into your eyes, shivering in your soaked jeans and Kildare County High School sweatshirt, the love of your life cradling your face so gently in his hands, and so many things you wanted to say flooding your brain but only the one that mattered the most managed to get by your trembling lips.

"I'm still in love with you."

You noticed a lot when you put your heart on the line: the steady, soothing sound of water falling through the trees, the bright, clean taste of rain on your tongue, how the sun was just barely starting to peek out from behind the stormy clouds, but they all paled in comparison to the little things you noticed about the boy in front of you; blue irises made even brighter by the red rimming his eyes, how he stepped closer on the wet grass until the tips of his scuffed boots touched your worn gray high tops, the way his hands trembled ever so slightly against your flushed face.

"Well, it's your lucky day 'cause I'm still in love with you, too."

All of the breath left your lungs in one big rush when JJ smiled hopefully -oh, how you loved everything about that smile: his slightly crooked teeth, that dimple in his cheek, the endearing pink blush swept across his nose- and you felt yourself return it without a second thought, your own hope once again burning bright in your chest.

"Even after...everything?" Your voice shook like the fingers you slid into the hair at his nape and he leaned down to rest his forehead against yours, close enough you could feel his breath on your lips when he spoke.

"I told you I'd always love you, didn't I?"

You nodded, a delicious shiver running down your spine when he tilted his head just so and gently bumped your nose with his. You remembered all the times he did that through the years, a dizzying slideshow of memories that flashed through your mind like lightning, and your fingers wove themselves deeper in his hair.

"I have so many things to apologize for," You said with a tiny, quiet shake of your head, tearing your eyes away from his in shame and staring over his shoulder toward where the rest of your friends watched from the porch, all crowded together at the top of the stairs with identical enthralled expressions on their faces. "There are so many mistakes I've made and people I've hurt and I have no idea how to even start saying sorry for it all."

"Babe."

The sound of your old pet name caused your gaze to snap right back to his and your heart felt like it was about to beat right out of your chest when one of his hands trailed down the sensitive skin of your neck and then lower until it traced along the curve of your hip and left a line of fire in its wake.

"We'll figure that out later, okay?" JJ said as his fingers tucked a loose strand of wet hair behind your ear, a coy, ardent grin on his face. "'Cause I've been waiting three years to kiss you again and if I don't get to do it soon, I'm gonna lose my fucking mind."

You smiled -a wide, joyful, elated smile- and rose up on your tiptoes in anticipation. "Then kiss me."

You didn't have to tell him twice. His lips pressed against yours desperately, like he needed you to breathe, like you were the very air in his lungs, religiously, like your mouth was the altar and he was there to worship as he pulled you close, the fingers of one hand tangling in your hair while the others dug into your hip. You kissed him back just as hard and the familiar taste of him on your tongue -mint, smoke, salt- sent that dearly missed spark racing through your veins like wildfire.

It was a little cliché, having your long-awaited reunion kiss in the rain but it was honest and candid and real and so much better than anything you could've dreamed. You lost yourself in his touch like you used to, clinging to him like a lifeline and pouring your whole heart into every fierce brush of your lips against his, both of you pulling away for a moment only to dive right back in each time. It was addictive, intoxicating, and you could've spent the rest of your life standing there in the middle of the yard and kissing like there was no tomorrow if a loud, ear-piercing wolf whistle hadn't come from the direction of the porch.

The two of you broke apart just barely, with foreheads still pressed together and swollen lips, and you couldn't stop yourself from giggling when JJ blindly flipped the bird over his shoulder before pulling you back in for another eager kiss that filled your whole body with an exhilarating, heavenly heat that never faded, even after four enthusiastic voices suddenly surrounded you like an excited swarm of nosy, buzzing bees.

"You aren't the only one who missed her, J." Kiara said, smiling widely as you reached out to grab her hand and pull her into a powerful one-armed hug, her chin resting on your shoulder.

"Yeah, stop hogging all the love!" John B added, throwing himself into the pile along with Pope, who slung an arm around your shoulders as he said, "Great to have you back, Y/N."

Sarah was the last to join and she quietly tucked herself under John B's arm with a pleased grin on her face, nodding when you mouthed 'thank you' in her direction. The six of you stood there in the rain, smiling like fools, and as the sun started to scare away the dark clouds overhead and in your heart, a weight you didn't even realize had been crushing your chest slowly began to lift away with each freeing breath.

You still had a lot of work to do: wrongs to be righted, apologies to be made, explanations -not excuses- to be given for every shitty thing you did in your past. But as happy tears started streaming down your face once again and you felt the arms of the friends you’d thought were lost to you forever tighten around you at the sight, you knew in your bones all would be forgiven. You knew that after three long years, you'd finally come home.

let me know what you think! i read each and every one of your comments and cry because they mean so much to me! ❤

taglist ❤: @sinkbeneathwaves @cordeliascrown @maysbanks @jjpogueprincess @bibliophilewednesday @k-n-e @jiaraendgame @alexa-playafricabytoto @heypearce @sexualparkour (send me an ask if you’d like to be added or removed!)

#outer banks #obx fic #jj maybank #jj maybank fic #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x y/n #obx imagine #obx netflix #outer banks imagine #jj maybank x you #kiara carrera #john b #john b routledge #pope heyward #sarah cameron

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companionship · 3 years

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okay one big post to get the finale out of my system! it's been lovely reading all of your analyses and reactions, and looking at all your amazing gifs and edits :')

fair warning: this is going to be so stinking long omfg

the things i enjoyed:

vincenzo remaining an anti-hero through and through, especially the fact that he didn't hold back at all when it came to myunghee and hanseok's death. he gave them a taste of their own medicine and then some forreal, their deaths were brutal but oddly satisfying, and i'm saying this as someone who usually hates violence/gore. throughout the show, they've always hinted at what he was Truly Capable Of and boy did we get to see it

vincenzo fumbling in hanseok's house and not being his usual self – a lot of people thought it was ooc, which i understand! i felt like that was the Point, to show that for once, he's not the invincible mafia consigliere that everyone thinks he is. what he did to the man who killed his mother and the army of security guards was a reaction, but this is the first time he's flustered, caught at a disadvantage, and faced with the very real possibility that he might lose somebody incredibly important to him. idk it made him more human to me

vincenzo literally not hesitating for even 0.1 seconds to fold his entire body around hers when he thought hanseok was going to shoot again – yeah that whole bit made my heart clench i feel like a crazy person i won't get over it

the chayenzo hospital scene... my god it was so tender my heart broke. the laugh they both shared, out of sheer relief that she's okay. the little joke about paying for the private room. the way not much was being said, but everything was being said at once. the way they looked at each other, as if it wouldnt ever be enough :( the quiet acceptance that this is their last night together, and that he's going to have to kill a bunch of people after this, but for now they have this. for however brief.

chayoung being chayoung – her big ass personality at the courtroom at the end after winning ms oh's case. her hopping around in those heels, looking elegant and sleek, mocking the hell out of rich conglomorates. she's in her element again and it made me so, so happy to see. i absolutely adore her, she's everything really. after all that loss and the whole ordeal, i'm glad she's able to return to what she does best: putting capitalists back in their place

mr lee being Very Much Not Dead – idk how i wouldve been able to handle it after witnessing hanseo's death like im glad he got the chance to be a dad

the kiss – my god....

the things i didn't like:

hanseo's death – lmao is it even a surprise... say what you will about his death being foreshadowed, but i really just hated hated it. i hate that hanseok won this one. i hate that hanseo worked so hard to redeem himself, only to lose it all. i hate that he was given a taste of what a real family was like, and then having it taken away so cruelly. even though i said above that i didn't mind that vincenzo was ooc at the mansion, i was still screaming at the screen because there were plenty of opportunities for the situation to be reversed. i don't necessarily blame vincenzo for hanseo's death, but i do wish that they had a funeral scene for him. i wish they acknowledged his sacrifice, and how pivotal he was in turning the tables. if not for hanseo, vincenzo really couldn't have pulled any of this off, from the interpol tipoff to the tracking device in the watch. idc idc hanseo is in malta rn, enjoying the sun and the beach, going to therapy, and teaching the local kids how to play hockey even though there's no ice :(

chayoung being bedridden the whole finale – like... NAH lmao this aint it chief... if things went my way, she wouldve gotten out of the hospital depite her injury and dealt with myunghee before handing her off to vincenzo. i loved their animosity for each other, and i wanted chayoung to be the one at myunghee's apartment waiting for her, rubbing it into her face. i wanted chayoung to verbally finish myunghee with that sharp ass tongue of hers and really dump a load of salt on her wounds. then vincenzo could do whatever the hell he wanted. you could argue that the show is called Vincenzo but i really dont care lmao it started with chayoung avenging her dad and she should've been able to strike the final blow. also what was her big second party? are we really just going to ignore her capacity for evil? after all that moral work done, after that time she spent coming to terms with using evil to combat evil, we're just going to... keep her bedridden? park jaebum u will pay for this

vincenzo losing his family – besides hanseo's death, i think this was what i hated the most from the ending. the start of the show showed us vincenzo's departure from the mafia with the very clear intention of Not Returning. the capo died, his loyalties lie with no one, paolo can suck it. throughout the show, we see him repeat over and over that he wants to get the gold and skip off to malta to enjoy a peaceful life there, while reflecting/repenting for the things he's done. vincenzo was gearing up for a lifetime of solitude. the whole point of the show was for him to find a real family and have a real chance at happiness. park jaebum really said FUCK THAT! we're gonna have him ditch the family that he built from scratch with the love of his life and then make him return to the family that tried to kill him AND make him the capo... pjb said we're gonna separate vincenzo from the family that accepts his past and sees it as a strength and not a weakness. the family that was formed out of solidarity, the family that he fought for and fought alongside with blood, sweat and tears. not to mention the goddaughter of his? sorry i would laugh if it didn't actually rile me up so bad

vincenzo not being able to come back to korea – i've said this in another post of mine, but given that he is The Vincenzo Cassano with all those resources at his disposal (guillotine file, mr ahn/mr cho/the chief etc.), the fact that he isnt even able to stay in korea for 30 fuckin minutes after finishing hanseok was ridiculous. the whole police chase was dumb as hell considering that the show has managed to stop politicians and mf presidential candidates from going after him like ? huh LMAO park jaebum had an on-demand pigeon army in this show and Yet he can't stop like 10 suddenly-righteous policemen. another big ass HUH

chayenzo (here we go...):

NOPE! i've reflected on the ending and decided that i'm going to be petty and salty for a while more before coming to terms with it

i can rationalise and try to be positive and tell myself that their love is enduring can transcend space and time and that in due time, they will find their way back to each other, and i have no doubt that they will because they're one soul in two bodies. it's quite literally canon that they're soulmates.

but let me wallow for a second

here we have two people who have done questionable and terrible things in their past coming together, growing together, grieving together, fighting together... you get the gist of it. you have two people who have found a home in each other. two people who, for all intents and purposes, were about to live in a whole lot of bitterness and solitude if not for each other and the life they built together (chayoung didn't have friends like that, and her family is gone too). to separate them like that at the very end is cruel. i know chayoung and vincenzo are mature and incredible and will be able to function without the other next to them. i know that they will still excel as lawyers and will defeat evil with their underhand methods the way they do so well but my god are they going to feel the absence and miss each other

my point is that they shouldn't have to. from what i could tell, they can't even communicate on a regular basis bc he'll be tracked and whatnot, hence the postcards. a postcard every month is a poor substitute for all those nights they stayed up drinking makgeolli and celebrating their wins. its a shitty replacement for coffee dates and fist bumps and all the moments in between. after everything they've been through, after literally fighting to death for their family, they don't deserve this. they don't deserve to meet up once a year for a couple of hours. they don't deserve pockets of time in malta or korea, their life in a perpetual countdown to when they're going to see each other next

they both deserve love and some semblance of peace (finally finally). they both deserve to have someone to come home to after a hard day of work, because doing what they do cannot be easy. they both deserve a family, deserve to have someone next to them that accepts their past and would embrace their future. they both deserve a hand to hold and a shoulder to lean on. i know they will still be It for each other despite the distance, i just wish the distance didn't even exist in the first place bc its stupid and cruel and their love shouldnt have to be proven or tested with time and space. let them stay together. let them grow together. let them be.

side note: song joongki and jeon yeobeen need another project together idc take it up with god

tl;dr: park jaebum u will be paying for my therapy bills

#vincenzo #tvn vincenzo #this was cathartic #if u made it to the end here's ur kiss #this is more for archival purposes than anything #also this is what happens when my best friends arent caught up yet and i have no outlet

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captain-barnes-writes · 3 years

Text

Someone Like You [3/6]

Summary: In which Sebastian tries to win you back a year and a half after your relationship’s rupture, but only because there’s a new man in your life. [Part 3]

(Mini-series)

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Latina

Warning: Angst (lotssss), language, 18+, future chapters will include smut (just warning y'all!) ; not proofread

Word count: 1.5k

Three months had glided by after that late night and Sebastian would be a liar if he said it hadn’t been a hassle to complete a simple task without a single thought of you. You were a brazen and permanent mark that he couldn’t erase no matter how hard he tried to rub you off.

A month after the one music video had been released, another one came. With the same Hispanic Bachata artist, this time for a different song. You were speaking Spanish in the beginning of the video, taking him back to the times you used to cuss him out in Spanish out of anguish and anger he’d make you feel. But also at the sweet words you’d utter in the language that was so foreign to him. It was for those first few seconds of the video that he was able to form a small smile as your sweet voice floated through his ears. He was smiling at the little rasp that your voice had and the slight squint of your eyes as you threw your head back in laughter, dark curls and dark eyes.

That little smile was quickly wiped off when the frame tuned to that of the singer who still couldn’t keep his hands off you and it made his blood boil over in rage. The dimples indented on the fuck-face were on full display as the full smile he wore didn’t vanish throughout the entire video. He couldn’t blame the man for beaming as if he’d won the lottery because quite frankly being in your presence felt quite like it.

It was another plotless video and made no sense, he deemed that the singer used this opportunity to get as close to you as possible yet again. You wore yet another dress, a tiny yellow sundress and your feet bare on the hot sand. The tropical theme had you on the beach, under a cabana and even on the sea shore.

You were dancing so eloquently and freely, hands so conscious of every movement your hip would make that they would move with ease. Two steps to the left and a slight jut of your hip and you’d do the same for the right. Dark curls bouncing with every movement you’d make. The man had wrapped his arms around your waist and proceeded to dance with you while singing the lyrics so precisely. He was going crazy at the thought of what could happen after the cameras had shut off, of what was happening in real life. He wondered, in a crazed manner, if you were showing him the same type of attention as in the videos.

Was he touching you?

Was he kissing you?

Were you letting him?

His girlfriend shifted on her side of the bed, squirming and sprawled her hand on his bare chest. His eyes shifted towards her sleeping figure, her body positioned on her stomach and head lazily on the soft pillows, and her breathing was so calm. He’d been in a haze and had almost forgotten where he was. It was a weekday in New York and since their fast-paced romance had been caught on camera there was no need to tip toe around the city anymore so they were at his own place. There was no longer a need to only spend time at her place.

She was kind and funny, brought him a sense of comfort. But it didn’t compare to what you’d given him. It was just that she had the label of girlfriend and you hadn’t. The thought tugged at his heart.

It was probably something truly sick and twisted as the sleeping and unknowing woman beside him breathed so softly in her sleep as he laid wide awake on his side with his phone grasped at his hand; the dim screen showing his searches filled with your name. His video search engine filled with your name too. He watched with his ear buds embedded in his ear, listening to your soft and nervous voice during interviews. The dark curls, your glowing skin and those gleaming brown eyes that were yet again driving him to the brink. His current situation was driving him towards a road of destruction if he kept this up.

God, what the hell was wrong with him. You consumed his every thought. Swirling and parading through his head like floating clouds of ethereal goodness. The last few months had been slightly arduous for him because in many ways he’d felt every single thing you had felt while you’d been with him. Angst, jealousy and an overwhelming tight feeling in his chest. He understood now.

He thought back to all the rumors, images and videos of you and that artist that had surfaced for the last few months. It wasn’t only an innocent, paid-job of being part of his two music videos but it seemed to have transpired into something more. The pictures of your dinner dates spread like wildfire through the media, people were shipping you and the fuckface already for god's sake. You were smiling so genuinely, straying behind the unbelievably successful man who donned an equally large smile. His hand was outstretched behind him, reaching for yours as the flashing cameras illuminated the both of you.

Huffing under his breath, he pressed the off button on his phone, removed the earbuds and placed both on the nightstand. He was tired and didn’t want to think anymore.

And as for you, you laid awake in bed as well in your New York home. The man beside you had barely gotten off you a few minutes ago and had already fallen asleep. His soft snores were invading the solemn quiet space of your bedroom.

Romeo Santos. He was handsome and romantic, sweeping you completely off your feet. And his voice? Talented and beautiful beyond belief. You’d started listening to his music in your teen years, and even though he was a lot older now, he still looked just as good as he had all those years ago. He was a good ten years older than you, a hefty number, but you liked it. Experienced, mature and with their shit together; at least that’s what you expected out of men who were nearly pushing the threshold of 40.

You couldn’t believe your luck at having gotten the call to be part of his music video during your vacation in the Dominican republic. You had said yes within a few seconds. Your instagram pictures showing off your well-deserved girls trip in the Caribbean region had probably gotten back to the Domincan artist, whom you’d noticed had already been following you.

The music video was out of your comfort zone, per say, as it included scenes that were rather risque for you. The lingerie and the steamy scenes on the crimson red bed had been rather intimidating upon reading the short script, but he’d made you feel comfortable.

And even while thinking back to those few months when you had met the handsome man beside you, your thoughts drifted back to another man who was two years shy of pushing 40.

Sebastian.

You wondered if he had seen your recent movie that had truly been the inception of your career, after only getting small roles, and if he saw recent announcements of roles you’d gotten for future films. It might’ve been vain, but you wanted him to see you. To appreciate you for once because it still hurt you so deeply that you had felt inadequate with him. You’d been at his beck and call for so long that you had finally mustered up whatever leftover pride you had and left his life. The situation had left you fragile, but you’d regained pieces of yourself and built your strength upon self love and your promise to never let another man use you.

Sebastian hadn’t been a bad person to you, he just had issues he needed to solve on his own. His commitment issues weren’t for you to fix. You got to know him as a lover and maybe as a friend too. But the moments you remembered most were those shared in your old apartment, on your bed. He’d been an incredible lover who wasn’t by any means selfish during your many nights together. You were lucky if you got a few hours of sleep with him around. He was insatiable. He always wanted you, was always kissing you and wanting some form of contact with you. You’d joked with him that he was like glue.

“You’re like glue, Seb. Get off me.” You laughed at the muscular, bare-chested man who was toppled on you. His hands were on your bare waist as his blue eyes traced over your face.

“And what about it?” He responded, big hands squeezing the fleshy sides of your hips and managed to give a slap to your naked behind. You shrieked in response, mouth and eyes agape.

“By glue I mean you’re making me all sticky and you won’t stop touching me!”

“You know you like it. Stop complaining.” He nuzzled his face into your neck, not even bothered at your protest.

His lips took hold of the sensitive skin below your ear, tongue lapping over the area he knew drove you crazy. Your soft mewls were the driving force to all his touching. He loved the sound of your breathy moans, your long nails scratching his back and the angelic reaction that would overtake your features. Mouth slightly ajar, gleaming eyes meeting his in silent pleas and the widening of your legs granting him the access he so needed.

“You see...That’s exactly why I’m like glue.�� And you had nodded in response.

You found yourself thinking of him. Again. It was unfair that after all the progress you’d made to forget the man who’d always take your breath away, he still managed to do so even in your mind.

And as you took the phone from your nightstand, you did the one thing you didn’t think you’d ever do.

You unblocked Sebastian’s instagram.

(To be continued)

----

This chapter felt like a filler tbh. Next chapter will be the real deal ;))) Bringing my other favorite Avenger

And do y’all know Romeo Santos? He’s a legendddd!

Let me know what you think :)

#sebastian stan #Sebastian Stan fanfic #Sebastian stan fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfic #someone like you #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes #angst #jealousy #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfic rec #sebastian stan drabble

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figonas · 3 years

Text

Twilight Re-watch Notes Pt. 1 - A Contest for the Worst Movie Quote in History

I'd like to think I'm funny so please enjoy my scene-by-scene notes from a recent Twilight Saga re-watch.

Hey Catherine Hardwicke, opening with the death of an animal was probably not the best choice but go off I guess??

There is a lot of general Bella awkwardness that I'm skipping over here but the scene in gym class is so horrifically, painfully uncomfortable that I almost passed out from the second-hand embarrassment.

Jessica trying her best to be fake nice to the human embodiment of a crumpled soda can: "Aren't people from Arizona like....really tan"

Bella with all the cadence of a child who just found out Santa isn't real: "yeah..I guess that's why they kicked me out"

Mike clearly just trying to get his dick wet: "HAHAH you are funny"

no mike she is not.

I'm not gonna go into the biology class scene because god knows tumblr has beaten that particular horse to death. BUT the scene in the administration office immediately after that is a TRIP. Edward has one of his most dramatic lines here when they won't let him switch classes: “I’ll just have to endure it” ?!?!?!?!?!?! This is INSANITY, he sounds like he's going to burst into tears like Edward please chill you aren't even being a little subtle.

I will never get over Bella trying to put Ketchup on her burger and then just???? giving up???? when it doesn't come out after she limply shakes it approximately once.

“HOW YOU LIKIN DA RAIN GIRL” Is our first contender for the worst and most unnatural line in movie history, and trust me there are plenty more.

Bella accusatorily saying “you were gone” to Edward as if this dude who she met for approximately 30 minutes 2 weeks ago owes her even a PALTRTY SCRAP of an explanation about anything???????

Actually, this whole scene is a horrific nightmare of awkward intrusive conversation:

“You’re asking me about the weather” HOE WHAT ELSE ARE YOU GONNA TALK ABOUT YOU DON’T KNOW EACH OTHER

“hey did you get contacts” WHO JUST ASKS THAT?!?

and of course; “it’s the fluorescents” [RUNS AWAY]

Charlie and Bella have the only organic-sounding dialogue in the entire movie. Any awkwardness they have is BELIEVABLE father-daughter awkwardness and not like "I'm being forced to film this against my will" awkwardness like every other exchange in this film series.

Bella asks Edward ALL OF ONCE about him saving her from the truck and Edward gets so haughty and smug thinking that Bella won't figure it out

“you’re not gonna let this go are you?” “no” “then I hope you enjoy disappointment” [storms off] MY DUDE LITERALLY 2 SCENES LATER SHE FIGURES IT OUT IN 3 GOOGLE CLICKS

“I had an adrenaline rush, it’s very common you can google it” contender number two for the terrible dialogue award.

Edward saying “if you were smart you would stay away from me” AFTER HE APPROACHED HER LIKE FUCK OFF [skeleton throwing its own skull gif]

Kstew got a lot of flack for her performance in this movie but when she has a good partner to exchange lines with she SHINES. The scene with Angela and her at the beach where she tells her to ask Eric to prom is GOOD. EVERY scene with Charlie in THIS ENTIRE FRANCHISE is GOOD. It is nothing but pure misogyny that Rpatz didn’t catch any flack for his truly, horrifically awkward performance

I cannot believe Stephanie thought it would be a good idea to have Edward save Bella from potentially getting gang r*ped like I get it girl is about the drama but still this is just a TOOOUCH too far

“your hand is so cold,” WHO SAYS THIS TO SOMEONE THEY BARELY KNOW COMPLETELY UNPROMPTED???

SHE TRIES TO REFUSE CARRYING BEAR MACE WHEN SHE WAS ALMOST R*PED NOT 4 HOURS PREVIOUSLY LIKE SIS CARRY A KNIFE?!?!?!?!?

The “you’re impossibly fast & strong” monologue is so bad I want to barf

“I’ve killed people before” “doesn’t matter” BITCH YES IT DOES WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU

“MY OWN PERSONAL BRAND OF HEROIN” IS SO BAD. Like we all recognize how bad this is right? Especially when one considered the target demographic for these films, i.e. teenage girls, have NO FUCKING FRAME OF REFERENCE FOR THIS WHAT.SO.EVER.

“And so the lion fell in love with the lamb” YOU’VE KNOWN EACH OTHER FOR ALL OF 3 SECONDS I CAN’T WITH Y'ALL. AT LEAST THE BOOK HAD SOME BUILD-UP JESUS GEEZUS

Who thought this meadow scene was a good idea, they need to be sent straight to hell. WHY ARE THEY LAYING DOWN LIKE, SIT MAYBE?????? IT’S SO WEIRD AND UNNATURAL THEY LOOK LIKE DOLLS I HATE IT

The scene where they get out of the car and Edward puts his arm around Bella while Spotlight by Mutemath plays in the background is TOP TIER teen drama bs and I love it. Far and away the best shot in the movie apart from The Baseball Scene(TM).

I will never get over the fact that Edward's bitch ass rats Bella out for already eating when she comes over to meet his family. BE FUCKING COOL EDWARD FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE, GOD!!!

Esme is too pure for this world I can’t deal with her, & Emmet waving the knife is my favorite thing in all 5 of these movies

Why tf are Alice and Jasper fucking off doing god knows what in a tree and not helping with dinner like everyone else? Y'all ain't special even Rosalie is helping

Esme talking to Rosalie “Clean this up..now” I LOVE YOU BE MY MOM

Earlier they talk about the fact that vampires don’t sleep BUT the first thing Bella says when she walks into Edward's room is “no bed” girl we know what you after you ain't slick.....

WHAT IS THIS DANCING SCENE IN HIS BEDROOM IT’S HORRIBLE TO WATCH and I want to find whoever thought “well I could always make you” was a good line for Edward to say and slap them directly in the mouth.

“hold on tight spider monkey” excuse me while I VOMIT

Mike offering his opinion on Bella dating Edward HOWEVER justified is automatically invalidated by A. his own romantic interest in Bella and B. the fact that he has also know Bella for all of 10 minutes & has no bearing on her personal life whatsoever

THE PAST COUPLE OF MONTHS THIS MAN HAS BEEN COMING INTO HER ROOM AND WATCHING HER SLEEP THIS IS RED FLAG CITY LIKE BELLA WATCH A TRUE CRIME DOCUMENTARY OR READ THE NEWS FOR FUCKS SAKE

THIS FRANCHISE HAS THE MOST HORRIBLE KISSING SCENES IN MOVIE HISTORY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU CAN HEAR LITERALLY EVERY BREATH, EVERY AWKWARD PRESS OF LIPS. You're telling me THIS was the best take of this???? CAN YOU IMAGINE HOW AWKWARD THIS WAS TO FILM

The whole scene when Bella is telling her dad about her date with Edward is absolutely god tier. Charlie snapping the barrel of the shotgun closed, him motioning that he has a halo on, asking her if she still has her pepper spray. BILLY BURKE LIFTED THIS MOVIE UP AND TRIED SO HARD TO CARRY IT ON HIS BROAD, MUSTACHIOED DAD SHOULDERS, WE STAN

WHERE TO START WITH THE BASEBALL SCENE:

Supermassive Black Hole in the background, Alice going AWF with her pitching, Rosalie getting all pissed when Bella says she's out and Emmett yells "c'mon babe it's just a game" like the puppy dog of a person (vampire?) he is, CARLISLE WEARING A SCARF WHILE PLAYING BASEBALL, I WILL NEVER EMOTIONALLY RECOVER FROM JASPERS BAT TRICKS, EMMET AND EDWARDS LAUGH AFTER CRASHING INTO ONE ANOTHER.

A TRULY IMMACULATE MOVIE SCENE. This scene isn’t long enough

“My monkey man” might be the worst line in this movie, I’m so torn between which one is the worst. Also, I'm just now realizing that this is the second time someone has compared a loved one to some type of monkey and I really don't like it.

Bella's defeated “I can’t hurt him” breaks my heart every time. AND FUCKING BILLY BURKE pulling out his acting chops with Charlie’s poor little broken sounding “I know I’m not that much fun to be around we can do more stuff together” & “I just gotcha back” LIKE LITERALLY EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS SCENE HURTS ME ON A PHYSICAL LEVEL AND I AM ENTITLED TO FINANCIAL COMPENSATION

I know I've skipped over a lot but it's just a lot of like star wipe level montage of nonsense, so we are mOVING ON to what is possibly the biggest plot hole I've never recognized before now: How in the hell was James planning on luring Bella out if he didn’t find that videotape of Bella's mom looking for her????? Or was he just going to bust up in the holiday inn, metaphorical guns blazing & toss Bella out a window???

This fight scene between James & Edward is VERY poorly choreographed and you can practically see the stunt wires pulling on their clothes but no one is surprised..this is Twilight after all.

Who the fuck starts the fire in the ballet studio if Carlisle & Edward are with Bella, Jasper and Emmet are holding James's arms and Alice is ripping his head off???? Esme and Rosalie aren't there so the only explanation is that Emmett's power Stephanie never told us about is his ability to start small, controlled, indoor bonfires with his mind.

If Bella was losing blood from her femoral artery it is HIGHLY UNLIKELY that she would have been cognizant enough to tell them her hand was burning + THERE’S A BIG ASS BITE HOW DID THEY MISS IT???

Let Me Sign is such a good fucking song. Actually, while we're on music every song on every Twilight Saga soundtrack SLAPS. At least 1 department at Summit Entertainment was staffed with competent people. (side note, why the fuck do I know the studio by name that made this movie. I need to go lie down)

Bella acting a damn fool in the hospital bed like clingy much

CHARLIE IS SUCH A GOOD DAD FUCK!

The Edward/Jacob beef is so dramatic at prom can you both chill for 5 minutes we haven't even gotten to y'alls bullshit yet that's not until New Moon.

Bella really thought this mfer was gonna turn her at prom in the middle of the dancefloor??????????

Flightless Bird American Mouth. That's it, that's the bullet point

Victoria coming to prom, like we stan a dramatic bitch.

I will almost CERTAINLY post my New Moon (Extended Edition) notes in a few days. & yes I do have notes on the entire franchise.

#I had a lot more but I cut it down #a lot of my extra stuff was just talking about RPatz slipping inexplicably into a Spanish accent from time to time #no one seems to notice #but I fucking do #I hear the way he says 'so you're worried' and want to caCKLE OUT LOUD #I'm not nearly as funny as I think I am but ask me if I give a fuck #baby I will subject you to my poor humor #Twilight #Twilight Saga

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omg-imagine · 4 years

Text

⊱ Drabble #3 ⊰

Pairing: Keanu Reeves x Reader

Prompts:

51- “I missed you so much.”

53- “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

Words: 1.6k

Warning: fluff, smut

A/N: Not really a drabble lol. I also went full on with the smut here. Hope you like it!

Requested by @eevee-of-rivia ♡

The house sat still, cold and empty, the late-night chorus of crickets sounding from an open window, its irritating tune echoing in the hushed atmosphere. For what seemed like hours, you tossed and turned under the warm silken sheets, incredibly restless and deeply yearning for precious sleep to come soon.

Sighing, you flipped over to lay on the left side— Keanu’s side— of the bed. It was dull, uneventful evenings such as this which made you miss your husband a bit more than usual. Undoubtedly, if he were home right now, the night would have been more pleasant. You always slept so soundly with Keanu, feeling loved and secure with him curled up behind you, holding you close.

As expected, your mind continued drifting off to thoughts of him, silently wondering what he was up to at this hour. Though Keanu had sent you a few texts here and there, today had been the first time he couldn’t call you from where he was on the other side of the world, his packed shooting schedule this week taking up most of his energy and focus.

You couldn’t blame Keanu, of course. Even though there had been many, many times when you wished you and him weren’t separated by thousands of miles, the long absences were sadly part of his job. Over the years, you had learned to accept it, but that didn’t stop you from feeling so lonesome throughout the day, wanting nothing more than to see him and hear his voice.

Finally, fatigue took over, and you eventually succumbed to sleep with the slight hope of seeing Keanu in your dreams, just like every night. For tonight, your consciousness conjured up a familiar scenario; a vivid memory, to be exact. It brought you back to the day almost six years ago when you and Keanu exchanged vows on a sandy beach near the bright, blue Pacific waters; in a ceremony that was intimate and perfect, filled with so much joy and love.

As your dream-self stood there holding Keanu’s hands, anticipating your first kiss as husband and wife, the scene around you began to melt away, your physical body rousing from its deep slumber and emerging into the real world.

Carefully, your eyes fluttered open, your brain still thick with sleep as you observed your dark surroundings. That’s when you heard it—the sound of the wooden floorboards creaking as if someone were walking out in the hall.

Sitting up on the mattress, you let out a scream when the door suddenly cracked open, and a shadowed man came into the room. Then you heard him say your name, and it took you less than a second to figure out who it truly was.

“Keanu?” You uttered as you reached over to turn on the light, your racing heart soon relaxing.

At first, you couldn’t believe what you were seeing. You wondered if you were still asleep; if this was merely part of your dream. But when Keanu approached the edge of the bed, his kind cocoa-hued orbs gazing down at you, you were then convinced that this was actually happening.

This was all real.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare—”

You didn’t allow Keanu to finish his sentence. Without warning, you jumped out of the covers and quickly scrambled towards him, pushing yourself up on your knees to kiss him. Capturing his neck in your arms, his lips were soft and sweet as they tenderly, perfectly molded to yours. Running out of air, you pulled away from him but not too far, letting your fingers weave through the ends of his raven locks.

“I missed you,” you spoke, your voice light and airy as the corners of your mouth lifted to form a smile. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too,” Keanu beamed, placing his lips on yours once more. “I hope you don’t mind me coming home unannounced. I just thought it would be a lovely surprise if I didn’t tell you.”

“It’s a lovely surprise, indeed. Even though you gave me a fright back there, I’m happy that you’re here.”

With a bright grin, Keanu wrapped his arms around your body, drawing you in close as you sank into his warm embrace. Closing your eyes, you could feel him nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck, trailing the gentlest of kisses along the side. You hummed in delight while his mouth slowly traveled upwards, his lips grazing your ear as he murmured, “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

“Hmm, what about exactly?” you questioned Keanu teasingly as he urged you to lie back in bed, positioning himself to hover above you.

“Well, for starters, I thought of doing this…”

A shiver ran down your spine as the large palm of his hand caressed your body, gliding smoothly over your thin, silky nightgown before pushing the garment up and off. Lustful gaze unwavering, Keanu’s fingertips ran alongside the skin of your inner thigh, inching them closer to your heated core. You inhaled sharply when you felt him massaging your sensitive nub through your panties, a smirk flashing across his face knowing that his simple touch could quickly reduce you to a needy mess.

“I imagined this moment during the entire flight, and it made me so hard just thinking about it.”

His words were somewhat of a loss when he swiftly rid you of your underwear and moved down your body, pressing his face towards your warmth. Hot breaths of air softly fanning over your cunt, you couldn’t hold back the moans escaping you as Keanu’s wet tongue delved into your aching pussy, two of his thick digits stroking, teasing your inner walls.

“I missed the way you taste,” Keanu cooed as you writhed helplessly against his strong hold, teetering dangerously on the precipice of climax. “I missed how tight you are around my fingers, my cock. God, I can’t wait to feel you around me.”

“P-Please,” you whimpered, lifting your head to meet his eyes which were filled with urgent desperation to touch, to feel. It had been too long since he’d given you this much pleasure; the late-night, steamy phone calls were incomparable to the real deal. “I want you inside me, baby. I can’t wait anymore, please.”

In an instant, Keanu pushed backwards, removing his fingers from your pussy, and you whined at the loss. You felt like you were half-delirious, your mind utterly stuck in a pleasure-drunk haze. Watching as your husband stripped off his clothes, your heart began to soar seeing his bare body. Your eyes shamelessly roamed over his entirety, sighing softly at the sight of the beautiful man before you.

Finally, Keanu removed his boxer shorts, the last barrier separating you from all his glory, and you couldn’t help but admire his gorgeous cock, hardened and glistening because of you, just for you.

Wordlessly, he crawled back up to you, his body settling between your legs as your lips met in pure haste, kissing each other fiercely, almost frantically. Releasing a gasp, you felt Keanu’s member pressed against your entrance, its swollen rosy tip slicked with your juices. Breaths mingling together in short pants, you moaned at the delicious burning sensation of him pushing inside in one slow, measured thrust. He paused for a beat, allowing you to get used to his size, only proceeding once you gave him a nod.

“I missed this,” Keanu husked, his hips moving at a tantalizing pace. “I missed you.”

Bodies moving as one, the bed under you creaked with every thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin mixing with the moans falling from your lips. Keanu’s girthy length stretched you out exquisitely. Each timed stroke became harder, rougher, and deeper, the growing coil of tension within you now starting to fall apart, and you looked up at him, knowing full well that he too was close.

“I love you,” he whispered in between staccato breaths, his movements becoming more erratic, his self-control slipping.

You gazed into Keanu’s dark, heavy-lidded eyes, his mouth slightly agape as a bead of sweat dripped from his quivering brow. Reaching a hand down, you hissed in pleasure when Keanu rubbed at your clit, dragging your nails over his back as he continuously hit that sweet, sweet spot deep inside you.

Within seconds, you began to tremble underneath him, spasming and tightening around his cock as you wailed softly, riding out your high. Grunting out your name, Keanu buried his face in your neck, giving a few final stuttering thrusts before finding his own release, pumping spurt after spurt of his thick creamy cum inside, a sated smile gracing both of your lips.

A minute passed, and so did several more. Soon, your ragged breaths steadied, your heaving chests returning to a calmed state. With a loving kiss, Keanu slowly slipped himself out, his tired body collapsing next to yours as you shifted to lie on your side, facing him. Staring adoringly at his gentle features, you felt your eyes beginning to drift close, though you tried to fight the sleep creeping in.

“It’s okay,” Keanu soothed when he noticed your drowsiness. “Go to sleep. I’ll be here next to you when you wake up.”

“Promise?” You asked in a muted tone, watching as he threw the duvet over to cover your bareness before turning off the lamp, darkness instantly enveloping the room.

Planting one last gentle kiss to your forehead, Keanu then snuggled closer, and you basked in the warmth surrounding you. “I promise.”

Content with his answer, you finally let the exhaustion take over, both your heart and mind now at ease knowing you would be peacefully asleep all night, held by the arms of the one you love the most, Keanu.

Permanent Tags: @penwieldingdreamer @keandrews @feminine-machinegun @fanficsrusz @thehumanistsdiary @rdjloverxxx @flaminasteroid @lussdew

#keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves imagine #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves fanfic

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dxxdlexxdle · 3 years

Text

Mr. and Mrs. Prongs Love Story Headcanon!

my fav heteros deserve some love tonight. it’s raining currently where i live, and it’s a good night to write some heart-wrenching headcanons, i think!

words: 1,694

warnings: fluff, hints at smut, maybe? pain. eternal fucking suffering cause this fandom kills me. some of the storyline may be fucked my memory is HORRIBLE and i tried to base some scenes off of MsKingBean89’s all the young dudes

—

In their first year at Hogwarts, the very first day they had even been inside the castle, actually, James Potter realized something.

The copper haired girl across from him was awfully pretty.

She was disgusted at the way he declared someday they would be married. “WHY would I ever marry you?” She had shouted, moving down the table to the blonde and curly haired witches she had met earlier on the train. James stared at her, doe-eyed. She was perfect.

This did however mean he was the first of the boys to take an interest in girls. By girls I mean, well, just Lily. Sirius Black thought it was awfully funny. “Mate, girls have cooties.” Remus Lupin was too shy to have an opinion. Peter could hardly even tell his own feet apart from left and right, and his lip trembled when he got yelled at, so there was no hope for him.

James took to teasing Lily to try and get his point across. Lily thought it was horrible. Why was he being so horrid if he supposedly fancied her? Why did he even fancy her in the first place? Somebody like her, a witch from non-magic parents, and somebody like him, a pureblood wizard?

It wasn’t until one day in potions she told him just what she thought of him. His tormenting had gone on too long. He had bewitched one of her pigtails to tug on its own from across the room.

“You are foul, James Potter!” She had shouted, resulting in thirty points from Gryffindor. James had just beamed.

James was a smiling mess, really. For starters, she had said his name, out loud, to him. Secondly, her nose scrunched when she was angry.

Anybody would notice a girl’s nose scrunch when she was angry, surely?

In second year, he announced that this would be the year she would want to marry him too. Alas, no luck. If anything, this year, she came prepared with snarky remarks to his teasing. It made him swoon.

In third year, Lily Evans overheard the boys whispering in the common room.

“What are you four planning?” She had asked, plopping down beside her lanky, slightly edgy looking best mate Remus. She avoided James’ eyes.

“Look at this, Mrs. Prongs come to join the party.” Sirius chuckled, and James punched him in the arm.

“Mrs. Prongs..?”

“SIRIUS.” James hissed at his friend who was doubled over.

In fourth year, she had begun to tolerate him. The teasing from Sirius was what did it. James was bad enough, his almost-brother was as relentless as him, but for different reasons.

“Prongs and Lily, sitting in the Whomping Willow, S-N-O-G-“

“Sirius!” Lily and James shouted in unison, equally red.

Fifth year changed them both. This was when Lily realized Remus was a werewolf. She swore secrecy, and promised to tell nobody else, as long as she lived.

James had already known. Once a month he was running in the woods as a stag, pushing his half-wolf friend around playfully with his antlers- or should I say prongs? ;)

In sixth year, Remus Lupin noticed Lily sitting in the stands, watching Gryffindor’s quidditch practice.

“What’s got you here? Marlene isn’t at practice today?”

Lily had turned a shade almost as red as her hair. “Oh Remus, don’t make me say it,” she hissed. Remus was in a fit of giggles.

“You fancy James!”

“Hush!” And she whacked his arm with her textbook.

To be honest with herself, this was not the beginning of how she felt for James. It had been a fluttering feeling in her tummy when she noticed him in the common room a few weeks earlier, sweater sleeves rolled up, reading over the quidditch signups. His messy hair, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose..

But, anybody would notice the way a boy’s sleeves were rolled up, exposing brown skin and pretty veins, surely?

Lily never knew this, but James had noticed her watching him. He kept the smirk to himself. He felt the flutter too. Ah yes, twitterpated.

Sixth year was also the year they learned how to cast a patronus. A silver doe shot from Lily’s wand on her first try, which elicited squeals from the girls and cheers from the boys. The deer pranced around the room, as if looking for something. As if missing something.

James purposely disrupted the class that day, so he could be sent out. It cost 50 points, but he didn’t care. He knew as soon as he cast the stag that would shoot from his wand everybody would know, and he just couldn’t do that to Evans.

In 1977, when the Marauders and co. went on their camping trip, James and Lily really had only stayed up talking that night, despite the somewhat knowing looks Sirius tried to pass to James in the morning.

It had been late, after Remus had come out, and the other girls crashed in their tent. Sirius had gone down to the beach after him.

“Sirius ought to leave him be, reckon that was difficult to admit..” and James scratched the back of his neck. Lily had turned to him then. Their eyes met.

“Are you joking? They’re both gay, you idiot. They’re very clearly in love. Look at the way Sirius looks at Remus, he looks at him the way I look at you.”

Their kisses had been hot and heavy in the darkness of their tent, but that was it. Kisses the two had waited far too long for.

That night, James admired the girl lying beside him. He pulled out his wand and cast his patronus, and due to the size of the tent the stag was tiny, dancing over their heads. Lily blushed and cast hers. For the first time, the doe wasn’t searching anymore. She had found the stag.

Their relationship was as expected. Letters all summer, Lily even taught her boyfriend how to use a muggle phone. Then, in the autumn, they were all over each other. Holding hands in public, snogging in broom closets,

“You are foul!” Lily had giggled, smacking her boyfriend on the hand as it slipped up her skirt in potions.

“What was that, Princess?” He murmured, and she couldn’t argue with him anymore

James admired her every minute he had the chance. How she looked reading, sleeping, spilling tea down her sweater, and especially how she looked at him with her heavy, fluttering eyelashes.

Because, how could he not admire the prettiest girl in the world when he was on top of her?

After they graduated, they immediately moved in together. Due to the war, Lily promised her muggle parents she would be safer. Although they didn’t understand (or like) the idea of their daughter fighting a war, they let her go with warm goodbyes.

They fought. They attended order meetings. They had lunch with Peter and Sirius and Marlene and Mary and Dorcas when they could. They fretted over Remus’ whereabouts. They paced.

Lily proposed. Well, I suppose James proposed first every damn year at Hogwarts, but she meant it for real that time. They were married by the fall. They invited everybody still alive, and they danced, and they seemed to glow under twinkling fairy lights. They had cast their patronuses again that night, just so the doe and the stag could dance over their heads.

“Reckon they like each other?” James smirked, and Lily just laughed.

When she found out she was pregnant, James slung her over his shoulder and spun around with her, and they laughed. They laughed until they cried because holy shit, we’re having a baby!

He talked to her belly every time he had the chance. “Hello little boy-“

“Could be a girl,” Lily objected, leaning against the headboard, guiding James’ hand with hers over to where the baby was kicking.

“Right. Whatever they are, they’ll kick ass on the quidditch pitch, huh bub?”

In July, with a scream and a cry and a push, a slimy baby was placed on Lily’s chest. She couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t believe she was here, with this boy who chose her, looking at their beautiful boy. James was right, and he was ecstatic.

“A son! I’ve a son-“ and then he was too choked up.

They taught Harry how to hold his head up, they both tried to get him to say “Mumma” and “Dada.” They took polaroids of his drooly smiles and his giggles. They took pictures of Uncle Moony and Padfoot holding him. They had a picture of Uncle Peter with Harry on his hip, and the pen on the bottom read ‘future chess master ;)’

When they went into hiding, their only real fight was about whether Remus was the spy.

“He’s our friend,” Lily had argued, angrily picking up baby toys from the floor and putting them into the toy bin.

“But he’s a were-“

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” Lily said, tears threatening her waterline. “Remus is a good man. He’s as good as you or Peter, or Sirius. He is our friend. He’s my friend. He would never.”

And although that night they fought, James still told Lily to take the baby and run, because even though they were angry, he’d die before he ever let Voldemort touch her.

“James, wait, I’m sor-“

“You and me, right Lily?” His voice was strained. He almost couldn’t look at her. At the fear in his eyes that reflected in hers- the eyes he had to see every time he looked at his beautiful son. He wanted to run with her, but he knew he couldn’t. “Take Harry and go. It’s him. I’ll hold him off.”

Lily Evans made it upstairs by the time the front door was blown open. Harry had been asleep. She cradled him in her arms, preparing for the blast of the door being opened.

“Harry, Mumma loves you. Dada loves you. Be brave, Harry.”

James Potter died thinking Lily Evans had made it out alive. It wasn’t until the stag saw a familiar silver doe at the edge of the woods, waiting for him, that he knew.

—

#imsosorryyall

#im fucking crying #why did i write this #lily evans #james potter #atyd #fashion #fiction #novel #harry potter headcanon #marauders headcanon #jily headcanon #jily love #patronus

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sweetestlamb · 4 years

Text

It Will Rain

Summary: Gang-tae is finally honest and has a realization about his relationship with Mun-yeong.

Author’s note: This story is coming to an end and honestly I’m very happy it has been very hard to tap into these emotions for both of them, their self-deprecation just wraps around me even after I’m done writing. But this was also very cathartic and I am happy that I wrote it, this was one of my only issues with the show and I know a lot of people excuse and accept GT’s behavior and that’s your right but I couldn’t do the same and I finished the series still yearning for a real apology so this story has done that for me. Provided more closure. Anyway, there is only one chapter left hope you all enjoyed!

She's gone.

He goes through the ceaseless motions of life, robotic and mechanical, going to work and coming home like he's living in a washing machine; spinning around and around in violent circles.

But endlessly his mind spasms every second as he remembers that she's gone and he has no idea where exactly she might be.

Sang-in refuses to speak to him, exiting any space that he enters and his frustration melts away as he realizes that her disappearance is not solely impacting him, the manager looks haggard as well, dark circles sunken deep like craters on a surface.

His thumbs twinge with malignant pain from his extensive messages to her, 109 messages sent since the day he went to her empty castle, pleas and apologies easily coming now as he recognizes how badly he needs her in his life. Life without her has been colorless and dull, a black and white façade that he longs to escape from. He wants the vibrant hues that being around her splashes into his life.

All his life he's been a blank canvas and meeting her poured colors onto his skin that he never knew he needed, life was meant to be lived and up until the moment she crashed into his life, he'd merely been existing.

He's taken to eating alone, punishing himself for his hapless mistakes, he doesn't deserve to be surrounded by warmth or have a full belly when Mun-yeong is out there with no one, thinking that he doesn't care for her. That couldn't be further from the truth but he has nobody but himself to blame for that, she'd given him too many chances and each time he'd been a fool; why had he done that? Why couldn't be accept love while it was the one thing he yearned for the most?

You don't deserve to be happy. This is what you deserve. Regret and despair.

His thoughts assault him viciously poking holes through his paper thin sheet of confidence. Each day without her and unread messages breaking him down into unrecognizable pieces, his walls crumbling like a sandcastle under the lightest pressure.

"Gang-tae, why are you so sad?" His older brother's voice draws him back from the depths of his melancholy, breaking the shackles of his self deprecation.

He sits from his starfished position on the ground, meeting his brother's warm questioning eyes. Immediately a smile spreads across his face, instinct kicking in.

Sang-tae looks at him, expressionless before he sits down beside him, reaching out a hand and catching his smile before slowly pulling down the sides of his mouth.

"It's fake. It's not real, you're not happy Moon Gang-tae, that's a fake smile. Why are you smiling when you're not happy?"

He feels the dam holding in his emotions start to burst before his eyes are swimming with emotions, twin lines scorch down the smooth skin of his cheeks.

"Hyung, I made a mistake." His voice squeaks from his worn lungs, sobs now wrecking his body until he's shaking apart. "I hurt Mun-yeong and I don't know if she's going to forgive me."

Sang-tae lifts a hand hesitating minutely before laying it on his head, air soft caresses on his thick hair. He almost melts into the brotherly brush, unable to recall another instance where his brother has touched him in this manner.

"It's because you're the little brother, you're just a kid still. You have to say sorry when you hurt someone , you have to say sorry and make them happy. Mun-yeong smiles when she's with you, a smile is better than a fight."

I have fun with you. I keep smiling.

He'd been so focused on his own newfound happiness he hadn't stopped to think about her, how much they'd both smiled when they were together. Her smile had been especially gorgeous, brighter than the sun moments after their first kiss. Her lips tasted as beautiful as they looked, her joy palatable on his taste buds.

He'd crushed that happiness under his feet that day on the beach, callously throwing sharp daggers at her chest, the vision of her clutching her bruised heart forever stamped in his mind.

I might not deserve happiness but she does and I....make her happy.

With a hiccup he smiles at Sang-tae, so young at heart but wise beyond his years. His wonderful older brother.

"Thank you hyung. You're right I need to make her happy."

"Yes she's my best friend, don't make her sad anymore or I'll scold you."

He laughs for the first time in days, happiness growing in his chest like a mustard seed.

Gathering his courage he meets his brothers eyes, finally prepared to be honest about his feelings for Mun-yeong, he's tired of hiding himself from the people he cares about.

"Hyung, I...like Mun-yeong. I want to be with her and I want to make her happy all the time." His confession eases the fear and concern that has been weighing him down, his shoulders loosening as the words escape his lips.

Sang-tae sinks into himself, scratching at the raw skin between his fingers.

He reaches out to hold his hands, rendering them still. He smiles at his brother, a smile that finally reaches his eyes.

"Don't be scared hyung please, I'm still your brother and I still love you. I just care about Mun-yeong too, my heart is big enough to hold both of you. Is your heart big enough big brother? Can you let Mun-yeong in too? She needs us."

Waiting with abated breath he watches the thoughts as they run across Sang-tae's face, shifting from one emotion to the next before he can properly decipher then until his brother finally responds.

"Yes. Mun-yeong needs us. She needs a family, we can let her into our family."

His heart ripples from his brother's generosity, he never imagined this conversation going this well. He'd ruminated about talking to Sang-tae always thinking his brother wouldn't understand and once again seeing that he underestimates his brother, she'd been right he just needed to be honest.

"You need to eat Gang-tae, I came to get you. Come on let's go eat, I'm your big brother it's just job to take care of you."

He lets himself he pulled away, leaving weightless. That night sleep finds him easily, his dreams are full of her.

Helpless is the only way to describe his circumstance, for once he knows exactly what he wants and is willing to fight for it but she remains elusive, not responding to any of his messages or calls, her voicemail now filled from his persistence.

The patients are the first to notice the change in him, their watchful eyes following his very move as he does his rounds.

"Your pretty smile, it's gone."

She's right, as his days without Mun-yeong pile on he finds it impossible to even force a fake smile, for once letting his true emotion show.

It's accidental that he runs into Sang-in, literally. Colliding chest to chest on the stairs to the rooftop, the manager teeters on the edge of the step arms flailing as he tries to regain his balance. The scene is all too familiar to him as he wastes no time to reach out and grab the man by his bicep, righting him before he can tumble down the stairs.

They both look at each other with trepidation before Sang-in pulls his arm free of his hold, mouth opening before his eyes harden and he spins around, intentions clear.

Hastily he calls out, "Wait."

Sang-in halts, the lines of his shoulder sharp and unfriendly.

"Please."

That simple word loosens the tension, he watches as the shoulders lower and after two beats Sang-in pivots around.

Dark eyes look at him imploringly, his expression saying more than words ever could.

What do you want?

Latching onto the opportunity he rushes to say his peace, "I care about her. I know you think I'm selfish and all I do is hurt her."

Steel wraps around Sang-in's eyes as if he's preparing to rebuke his excuses. Ready for a fight.

"You're right. I am selfish and I've hurt her a lot. It doesn't matter what my intentions were I still hurt her and I'll never forgive myself for that."

After a pregnant pause, a sneer glides across Sang-in's smooth shaven face, "So what? You're going to leave her alone and stop making her cry? Is this you telling me that you're giving up on her so she can be happy?"

His eyes dart all over that manager's face, before he finds what he's looking for. That's not Sang-in's secret desire, beneath the sneer his lips quiver as he awaits Gang-tae's response.

It's the easiest test he's ever been given.

"No. I'm going to spend the rest of my life trying to make her happy, I won't push her away." He promises with his heart in his throat.

Their eyes lock in a staring match, he hides nothing letting his emotions pour through his eyes, taking down his walls. Sang-in takes a deep breath before answering.

"Okay."

It's such a simple answer but with it he feels Sang-in's reluctant acceptance, their happiness was connected and despite his anger Sang-in couldn't deny that. The answer boosts his confidence.

He has to find her.

He's at work when he gets the message from Sang-tae, Mun-yeong text me. She sent me a picture.

He races to the staff lounge, phone precariously clutched in his hands as he looks at the message. Disbelief and relief wash over him in submerging waves, before he can maneuver his trembling hands to type out a response he gets another message.

Her face fills his phone screen and his heart as Sang-tae sends him a screenshot of her message.

I'm okay Sang-tae. Don't worry I'll be back.

Pushing aside his jealousy he devours her picture, the downward tilt of her lips doing nothing to lessen her beauty, those black orbs shining through the luminance of his phone.

Once his heartbeat slows down to a manageable rhythm he looks at the picture once more, scouring for clues and immediately his memory whorls as he takes in the door in the background.

She's gone back to where he'd finally let go.

Maybe he still has a chance.

With that though fueling his movement he runs through the door, stomping to the director's office.

Director Oh smirks at his stuttered excuse before chuckling and nodding in acquiesce, letting him leave his shift early.

He stands still in shock before confirming, "Really? I can go..?"

With a shrug the director waves him away, "Go, go I did worst things when I was young for a girl. Love makes us all a little crazy."

Blushing at how easily he's been found out, he bows low thanking the director before running out of the hospital.

As he bursts through the entrance door, a car horn catches his attention and he twists around until he finds the source.

Sang-in climbs out of the driver's seat of his rental car, walking closer until they are within arm's reach, wordlessly he tosses the keys into Gang-tae's hands, snatching the metal out of the air he looks at the manager surprise etched in very pore of his skin.

"Why?" He asks, taken a back by everyone's willingness to help him.

"Because I want her to be happy. You promised to spend your life doing that. You better keep that promise."

He hears the threat for what it is, impulsively he leaps forward wrapping the older man in a bear hug before releasing him and rushing to the car.

Sang-in's wide eyed stare causes his laughter to fill the car's small space as he pulls out of the parking lot and drives off to keep his promise.

The woman who owns the guest house grumbles when he arrives but shows him to Mun-Yeong's room and tells him that she's currently out taking one of her "soul searching walks". He waits outside, not wanting to invade too much of her space. He wants her to let him in.

Hours crawl by before the heavens open out releasing wet retribution that drowns the ground. Worry washes over him as he glances out at the road, willing her to appear and to his utmost surprise she does, materializing before him like a vision in a dream.

Her movements are unhurried despite the harsh downpour that has already soaked her, her clothes plastered to the soft curves of her body.

He watches her entranced, eyes feasting. She's here, his heart gallops giddy from her mere presence. He savors this moment of pure exuberance, knowing her well enough to acknowledge that she will not be as happy to see him.

He's right.

Her words cut him as she rages, cursing his presence and demanding that he leave her alone. She sugar-coats nothing as she rips him apart the worst part of all is that she only speaks the truth. She's not vicious or malicious, he thinks he might have preferred that, instead of this piercing honesty.

She slams the door in his face and he's reminded of him slamming the door on their relationship on the beach. He deserves this.

He slides to the ground, placing one hand on the door that separates them.

It's my turn to wait.

"I'm here for you. I need you Mun-yeong."

She stares at him blankly, vastly different from the anger she'd just exhibited at finding him slumbering on her doorstep.

Without a word she spins around, slamming the door shut in his face once more.

Eventually he goes to find the bathroom, a warm bathe soothes the chill in his bones before he's forced to put back on his still damp clothes.

When he finds his way back to her, she's standing stock still where he once was.

A closer look reveals that she is not completely still, her small shoulders are rapidly moving up and down and after a moment's pause he rushes to her, spinning her around to face him.

Her face is crumpled in wet anguish, tears gushing from her eyes as she bites her lips to contain the sobs that are aching to escape.

"Mun-yeong." He breathes out before she tumbles to the ground.

Instantly he falls with her, gathering her in his arms, she pushes him away fighting to break his barricade. He lets her go. Arms falling helplessly to his sides. His heart breaks as he watches the woman he loves fall apart, helpless again to do anything to comfort her.

"I thought you were gone. Why did you come back? I accepted that you left me, why do you keep coming back damn it!"

Her cry breaks as her body continues to shake and he can't watch this anymore, his arms and heart empty without her weight.

Mustering his last remnants of strength, he pleads, "Mun-yeong please, can I hold you? I can't stand to see you like this, please. I'm yours. I'm here for as long as you want me. I'm never going anywhere."

Her moist eyes peer into his soul, searching. Before her eyes slide shut, slowly she reaches out her arms and he bolts into the space, a space just for him. He fits perfectly.

He wraps his arms around her slight figure, engulfing her in a deep embrace, her tears soaking through the collar of his uniform.

Time slows down as she shakes in his arms, her sobs quieting down until the sounds of nature fill his ears instead. He rocks her back and forth, patting her back as she clutches on his shirt.

When the last of her cries falter off he draws away from her, her beautiful wet face blessing his eyes.

Gently he reaches out to brush the tears from her cheeks.

She blinks back at him, sniffling before sighing and looking up at the skies.

"Okay. Let's talk."

#psycho but it's okay #its okay to not be okay #its okay to not be okay fic #ko mun yeong #moon gang tae #seo ye ji #kim soo hyun #made myself cry a little #angst is so exhausting #one more chapter

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