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imonthinice · 3 years

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The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 5/?

Word Count: 2.8k

Author’s Note: Y/N - Your name, A/N - Any name ( your best friend’s name)

Part 5! This is going well, I think, I hope you like it :)

So last night, I finished two parts to this series, and guess what? Turns out when Tumblr glitches you have no rights and suddenly all your work is gone! If you need me, I’ll be crying in my writer’s corner

Warnings: Swearing, Trauma, Family Issues, Left on a cliffhanger lol :) sue me, no beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Down girl, you’ve been on two dates, did he even open up to you fully? A/N texted back to Y/N, who took a quick break to the bathroom to compose herself and fix her hair after Jason, the man she was casually seeing, opened up to her about his father and his father’s criminal record as well as his mother and his mother’s passing.

Yes he opened up to me! But we’ve been spending all day flirting and I told him about how my father is an immigrant and how I tell everyone I am legally a bastard, and I just don’t know, is it too soon to say I like him?

Go get him, Girl. Go get him.

In the other room, Jason was hastily texting his brother Dick, who has been in a relationship with Barbara for a while now, and is deeply committed to her. So, he needed advice.

How did I know when to kiss Barbara? Do you want to kiss Y/N? Dick asked back to Jason.

Yes I want to kiss her you idiot, but when do I do it? We’ve only been on two dates.

Why don’t you take her to a fancy restaurant out of the city where you aren’t being watched constantly and she isn’t flipping off the paparazzi, and then do it? Also, Bruce thinks her flipping off the pap twice is very funny, shockingly.

As soon as he received that text, she walked back out of the bathroom, this time, letting her hair down out of the bun it is usually in.

“You look nice with your hair down, Y/N.”

“You think so? I usually have it down when I don’t have classes.”

“I do think so.”

“Well, thank you, Jason,” she purred, sitting back down in her chair, opposite him.

“Bruce saw your shenanigans with the pap, he apparently thinks it’s funny.”

“Your family is checking in on you? Can’t they trust me?” she said, in a completely sarcastic tone.

“Well, I was just bragging about how lovely I find you.”

“Kind of you to do so, Jason,” she placed her hands on his and had to lift herself up slightly to lean into him, not to kiss him or anything, but to be closer to him.

“Your love language is physical attention,” he smirked at her, “I can tell by how you grab me, Y/N.”

“Don’t psych me out now, we’re having fun!” she whisper-yelled at him.”

“I do it when I’m nervous,” he assured.

“What’s there to be nervous of?” she asked.

“The pretty girl leaning into my face making moves on me?”

“You want me to stop?”

“No,” he grinned, “no chance I want you to stop.”

And then his phone rang. He picked it up to hear a very panicked Bruce on the other end,

“Jason, here, now.”

“Okay, okay.”

He hung up and grabbed her hands and leant in, like he was going to kiss her, but only rest his forehead against hers,

“This has been lovely, really, but that was Bruce and he needs me, I’m sorry,” he whispered down to her.

“I understand, we can always go on more dates.”

“I hope we do, see you later, Y/N.”

“See you, Jason.”

And he left. But there was something about the furniture in the house after he left, it smelled like him. Not in a weird way where she was obsessed with it, but she associated the smell with the feeling of riding through the city and the back roads like no one was watching, the feeling of being free, the feeling of being unstoppable.

And that, that was the beauty of the chase, the beauty of what she wanted, to be free, gone from her parents, gone from her twin sister, free.

But, she went to bed that night without even going to her car to pick up her notes. She did have class tomorrow, but it wasn’t criminal psych. It was regular psych. Which she wasn’t stoked for, that’s for damn sure.

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

Waking up, she opened her phone at around 5am to see a text from Jason,

You know, I always wanted to try some restaurants in Metropolis, I know you don’t like it, but I know the press doesn’t follow me there. What do you say? (Yes I know it’s 3am I’ll tell you all about what happened and why I’m awake so late later lol)

She thought about it, scared that her parents would see her walking around with this guy they didn’t know. Fuck it, she thought, I only live once.

Jason, I would love to. And I hope that story is a good one.

He almost immediately shot back, Mornin’ and yeah, it is. Do you have class today? I can come get you from your’s and pick you up from class if you need it, I swear you won’t have to ride the motorbike in your home city.

I do have class, and you don’t have to but my class is at 3pm again if you’re willing.

Meet up at 12 and talk for a while? Might be fun.

My roommate will be here, though.

Well, you already inadvertedly met my best friend, remember the baker? His name’s Will Harper. I called in a quick favor to impress you and he’s a sucker for a good romance story.

Well, he seemed nice, and yeah, if you want to meet my roommate you can come over, Jason.

You can call me Jay if you want to, Y/N.

I gotta shower now, Jason, but I figured nick names would come out in time.

She put down her phone and went to shower.

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“Mornin’ A/N.”

“Y/N,”, she greeted happily, “the coffee’s already brewed by the way.”

“God I love you,” she blurted out.

“Yeah yeah, tell me the drama, did you guys have sex?”

“No, but he’s coming over today to meet you slash talk to me before taking me to class and then driving himself and I to Metropolis for dinner.”

“Escaping the cameras to go to the city that has your parents?” A/N questioned, seeming concerned.

“I know, I know, but I only live once and I doubt we’ll see them. If we do, I might just call him my boyfriend to get it over with. Have to talk to him about that though.”

“Honestly, have you told him how insane your parents are?”

“That’s what I’m planning on doing today, A/N.”

“Don’t scare him off, Y/N.”

Y/N scoffed and she went to go get her notes from last night, it was around 11:50am, so she knew that Jason would be here any minute, but she needed to get those notes into her room, she was right about Jason when he pulled down the street in a Porsche. Pulling into her driveway, Y/N waved at Jason while finishing to pull out her books from her beat up car. Quite the difference from the Porsche and her car, but she only noticed it for a few seconds before both doors slammed, in sync.

“Well, that was timed perfectly,” she said to Jason when he met up with her at her car.

“Wow, we’re magicians,” he joked, “Do you need help?” he asked.

“No, no, I can handle it myself, thank you.”

“Well, it doesn’t kill me to ask, you’re going to need help with that door though,” he mused.

“Oh no, you underestimate me, I can open doors with my hips, and I think I didn’t shut the door the whole way so I could do this easier,” she laughed and began to lead him up the driveway, like she had done last night before he ran off with Bruce.

“Thinking ahead?”

“Something I clearly didn’t do when saying we could go to Metropolis, I’ll admit.”

“What do you mean?”

“We have time to talk about it later, Jay, are you however, ready to meet my roommate?”

“No, but you only live once, Y/N.”

“You won’t die, I promise,” she said as she nudged the door open with her hip and greeted A/N, “Hey girl! This is Jason, entertain him while I file notes, maybe, I swear I’ll speed run it.”

“Entertain him? Are you serious? He’s your guest!” she joked.

“Hey thanks man really appreciate it,” Y/N joked before hastily walking towards her bedroom, this was obviously a song and dance they had done with A/N’s lover, so Y/N shot it back at A/N.

“Jason.”

“A/N, right?”

“Yes, sir, how are you today?”

“I’m good, was that a fight?” he questioned.

“No, don’t worry, it’s just the way I acted when I first brought my partner, person, thing, over. She’s just being spiteful. Trust me, if it was a fight, there’d be a lot more of a screaming match.”

“Well, that’s reassuring, I think.”

“So, Jason, do you like her?” she asked.

“We’ve been on back-to-back dates since Sunday, A/N,” he paused, “I really do.”

“Well, it is not like I am going to sit here and be like ‘Oh you can’t date her!’ and feign being upset about this, I mean it’s been 2 dates and you’re going on a third, if that’s not leading towards seriousness, I don’t know what is,” she assured him. He seemed to like this.

“How much has she told you? My secrets or anything?”

“God no, you’ll tell me those with time when we’re friends.”

“Well, I hope you’re a good friend to Y/N and myself, in the future, then.”

“The future is just around the corner. Don’t let Y/N escape you. She’s a catch,” she finished as Y/N reentered the room,

“Did you two have fun?” Y/N asked.

“I think we did,” Jason said.

“We did,” A/N assured, “you two can go to her room now, I’ll be fine.”

“I wasn’t worried you weren’t going to be, you always are.” Y/N said to A/N before grabbing Jason’s hand and taking him to her room. He hadn’t been in her room yet.

It was kind of a mess, I mean it wasn’t like they had a maid and they’re both broke college/university students. Notes were strewn across her desk, but that was expected with such a high-study class, the one they met in.

“You clearly like the colour red,” Jason said, pointing to the obvious red feature wall, grinning.

“Well, I told my sister to design my room last time she was over and she picked it based off of the criteria I gave her, she’s going to be an interior designer, and red was one of the colours I gave her,” Y/N said with a sigh, “That’s kind of the thing we need to talk about, my family,” she sighed again, “They are, special, to say the least.”

“Well, so is mine.”

“Yeah but,” she sat on her bed and he joined her, “My family is quite, how do you say it, Christian? They’re very hard to impress and if they see me running around the city with you they might expect you to be my boyfriend, not the guy I’ve known for 3 days and went on back-to-back dates with,” she rambled, “ Not that they wont like you! They’re just traditional, and I’m not and it drives a slight wedge between us,” she paused to look at him, “This is just a really long-winded warning about only a chance to meet them,” she finished.

“Well, that doesn’t scare me. You would understand why if you knew the Waynes, not that they’re traditional, they too, are just hard to impress,” he assured.

“Probably shouldn’t have flipped off the paparazzi then, honestly.”

“No, Bruce found that funny. And about last night, my brother, Damien, he’s the youngest Wayne and one of the only not-adopted ones, being 3 not adopted ones,” he paused, “Anyway, he broke his leg playing office chair racing in the Manor, and I needed to go to Bruce to get yelled at for bringing up the idea,” he laughed, “Bruce then told me after that if he was invited I wouldn’t have been yelled at,” he paused, “That was fun.”

“So, very posh and pristine family, and one of you broke your leg roughhousing in a very expensive Manor?”

“Only in Wayne Manor would that be a sentence.”

“Seems like you have your hands tied with your family,” she joked.

“I wouldn’t if the idiots stopped hurting themselves playing games when I’m on dates,” he retorted and laughed with Y/N.

It seemed crazy that these two would meet, since so many factors played into it, but she swore God saw the potential for this to happen and said, This, this deserves a shot to shine. And she was grateful. She didn’t exactly believe in God, but if God sent her this boy, she might change her mind on going to church with her parents when they invite her.

And that’s the beauty in the mystery, the beauty in the ‘Positive’ they claimed after not knowing what to do next but still powering through to go on dates, and they had gone on enough dates and spent at least 1 third of the last 3 days with each other. That was impressive. That was a good sign and they both knew it.

The next step was packing a few bags and going on 24 hour dates in the cities, but they weren’t ready for that yet. They both thought a first kiss would be better before that. Luckily, Jason wanted to kiss her today, and she wanted to kiss him today.

Before they knew it, they were in the Porsche driving through the streets she describes all-too well, blasting songs and screaming lyrics with Jason, a song stuck out and that was the Annapantsu’s Smooth Criminal Rendition with Caleb Hyles. Since the rendition had a multitude of riffs that Y/N adored, she would scream it and Jason would continue the male parts. It was peaceful yet the most high-pressure intense situation she had felt in a while.

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Getting out of class, she somehow avoided the paparazzi she had grown somewhat accustomed to over the days she had known Jason, she got back into the Porsche before they noticed she was even there, but then they noticed, and Jason fucking floored it to the streets and out of there.

He dropped her off at her place to get ready for an expensive dinner with him in Metropolis. She thought long and heard about what to wear to her date, but in the end, she decided on a nice pink dress her mother had bought for her back in Metropolis. She had told her daughter, Only wear this on a date with a man you think is endgame, now, she didn’t know if Jason was endgame, but she did want to put all the energy she could into the universe to make him worthwhile.

(This is the first time I’m going to include pictures! I think I’m getting the hand of Tumblr now hehe :) )

(If the skin tone doesn’t match your own, because you’re darker or paler, just imagine it’s yours :) you’re all beautiful in your own right and I’ll use pictures with varying skin tones as I progress the story)

She gave a little twirl in her mirror before taking a quick picture to send to one of her other class friends, who was wondering how things were going with Jason at the time. Her name was Artemis Crock, she knew that Art and Jason were friends, but she also liked Artemis Crock a lot, thinking that they were likely going to be good friends.

You’re going to make him swear up and down to Will that he is ‘Only seeing you casually’ while Will says he’s in love with you, you’re killing it. She shot to Y/N.

Y/N smiled and left her bedroom to go meet up with A/N, who wanted to make sure the dress she was wearing was cute, and it was,

“Holy shit! I said look cute, not make him your bitch, Y/N!”

“Potato, Potahto,” she laughed, “You really think I look worthy of a Wayne?”

“You always do, but you didn’t have to go THIS hard to prove a point. Only one tabloid said you weren’t enough for him,” she paused and Y/N thought about that tabloid, it upset her, sure. But she was completely aware that spite was going to fuel many of her next moves in the press, “Just the one tabloid.”

“And the one tabloid is enough to make me spiteful. Fuck them tabloids, girl, they can suck it,” she said.

“I don’t think Jason would appreciate if the tabloids blew you,” she joked.

“You don't know that, A/N,” she retorted.

“Do you know that?” A/N said as the doorbell rang, “I’m assuming that’s for you, have fun!” A/N said and waved as Y/N waved back and walked to answer the door. Yep, it was Jason.

“Woah,” he said, mouth agape, when she answered the door.

“Close your mouth, Romeo. You’ll attract flies,” she joked.

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pazumane-archive · 3 years

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Closing Time - Asahi x Reader

Characters: Asahi Azumane, female reader, original female character, small Taichi cameo

Relationships: Asahi Azumane x Reader

Genre: Fluff, hurt/comfort if you squint, SFW but 16+ please

Warnings: Alcohol, general drunken shenanigans, emetophobia (mentions of vomit), bad language

WC: 6.4k

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! This is a totally self-indulgent bedtime-scenario-type story because there is simply not enough Asahi/Reader content out there and I adore him. It’s also my first time writing in 2nd person, so PLEASE feel free to send me any feedback, please just be kind :) I really don’t like to use y/n, so I only used it a couple times towards the end when I wasn’t sure what else to do lol

The preview begins with the bolded text below and fic continues after the cut :)

Reblogs appreciated! <3

You weren’t planning on getting this drunk. But by the time it got to be about 11:30, you didn’t know what else to do. You had put so much effort and energy into making yourself look nice just for your date not to show up. Your roommate was out of town, so instead of going home and pouting, you figured you might as well have some fun while you were out. But you’ve never been good at exercising restraint, and the fact that you were alone wasn’t doing you any favors. But by closing time had rolled around, you could hardly see straight. You needed help, so you call upon an old friend.

“Do you have anybody you can call for a ride?” Kawanishi asks.

Kawanishi’s the bartender at this izakaya, and over the course of the night, you spent most of the time talking his ear off. He’s nice enough, and held pleasant conversation for the last few hours. He says he used to be a volleyball player, and had even played on the same team as a one of the guys on the Japan National Team. You forget to ask him which school he attended, but he probably was tired of talking to your drunk ass anyway, so you don’t bother asking. “Yeah,” you say, digging in your purse for your phone. “Are you sure? I can call a cab for you if you need it,” he offers. “Nah,” you say, hiccupping between words. “I’ll call somebody. Thank you though.” “No problem,” he says. “Just try to make it quick.” You scroll through your phone, trying to figure out who to call. Your roommate’s out of town visiting her parents, so she’s a no-go. You could call Kokomi. Honestly, she would deserve the 2AM phone call for setting you up on this failed blind date in the first place. Ever since you moved to Tokyo last month, she was constantly trying to set you up with somebody, whether it was a friend, a coworker, or some rando that she had met on the train. Unfortunately, all of them were jerks. And this one was the biggest jerk of all. You silently curse yourself for going along with her antics again.

“He’s great, you’ll love him!” “You said that about the last three guys you tried to set me up with, Kokomi.” “Please!! You’ll never know if you don’t even give him a chance.”

Well, you gave him a chance. And it ended up with you all alone, drunk as hell in an unfamiliar part of the city. You dial Kokomi’s number, but it goes straight to voicemail. “Bitch,” you mutter. You unlock your phone again and look through to find somebody that might be able to take you home. You scroll back to the top of your contact list, and your eyes settle on another name. He lives just a few blocks away, and knowing him, he’s probably awake working on something anyway. You click on his contact and wait for him to answer.

The exhaustion’s starting to get to him. It’s the weekend and he can afford to stay up an extra couple of hours to finish this design, but the combination of fatigue and frustration are taking over. He sets down his pencil and moves towards his bed, until his cell starts to buzz. He glances over at the clock on the wall. 1:49 AM.

Who could possibly be calling at this hour?

Asahi picks up his phone, surprised to see your name on the screen. His heart skips a beat in his chest, both from excitement and nervousness. Aside from his teammates, you’re one of the only people he bothered to keep in contact with after high school. The two of you had even met up a few times since you moved to the city, but he never would have expected you to call at this hour unless… unless something is wrong. “Hey you, what’s up?” He says, choking back a yawn. “Hiiiii Asahiiii! I tried to call Kokomi but she didn’t answer her phone… could you come pick me up?” Your voice is thick and your words are almost unintelligible as you speak. It’s obvious that you’re far from sober. “Where are you?” Asahi asks, failing to mask the anxiety in his voice. “Are you okay? Are you safe?” “M’fine,” you slur. “But I…” Suddenly the call drops. Asahi calls you back in a panic, his heart racing as he waited for you to answer. You could be in danger and he’d be powerless to help you. He doesn’t even know where you are. “Hello?” A man’s voice comes through the speaker. “Who are you? Where is she?” Asahi asks frantically. “Relax, man. I’m just the bartender,” he says. “Look, your friend’s next to me, but she’s on the verge of passing out. Can you come get her before she pukes all over my bar? She’s at Zoetrope. You know where that is?” “Of course, I’m on my way now! I’ll be there in ten minutes,” Asahi says, grabbing his apartment keys and putting on a pair of shoes. He’s out the door almost immediately.

Kawanishi presses your phone back into your hands. Your head is spinning so fast that you struggle to keep your eyes open. “Is he coming?” you ask. “Yeah, he’s on the way,” Kawanishi says. “He’ll be here soon. Now do me a favor, don’t get this drunk the next time you come into my izakaya or I’ll have to kick you out.” “You’re kicking me out???” “Only if you start throwing up,” he says under his breath. “I’m not going to throw up!” you exclaim, suddenly becoming very aware of the churning in your stomach. You grumble, slumping over the bar. You squeeze your eyes shut, the spinning in your head only getting worse with every breath you take. You feel like you’re going to die, and honestly, between the embarrassment of being stood up and the wave of nausea coming over you, you’re ready to welcome that death with open arms. “Hey!” Kawanishi says, smacking the bar next to your head. “Your friend’s going to be here soon, don’t fall asleep or I’ll throw you out on the street myself.” “I’m sorry, Kawanishi-san.” You sit up slowly and cradle your head in your hands once more, trying to make the world stop spinning.

Please get here soon, Asahi.

Asahi sprints down the street as fast as he can towards the izakaya. He’s sure that he looks suspicious running down the street alone at night, but he doesn’t care. You’re in trouble, and he’s the only person that can help you. He finally makes it to the bar and hastily pulls the door open. You’re dressed beautifully, and your makeup and hair are exquisitely done. Unfortunately, the way you’re slumped over the bar makes it obvious that something’s wrong. He’s not sure what happened, but whatever it was, it must have been rough. The bartender gently helps you out of your seat, and Asahi can’t help but think that he looks very familiar. You straighten up and as soon as you make eye contact with Asahi, you perk up. “Asahi-san!” you exclaim, rushing towards him and almost falling over. You crush him in an unexpectedly tight hug. “Long time no see, big guy!” “I saw you three days ago,” he says under his breath. You continue babbling unintelligibly, and Asahi looks up at the bartender. “Did she close out her tab?” Asahi asks. “I took care of it already,” the bartender replies. “Please just make sure she gets home okay. She’s had a rough night.” “Yeah, of course,” Asahi says. “Thanks for helping her out.” “No problem.” Asahi peels your arms off him and starts to nudge you towards the door. Just before the two of you leave, Asahi stops and turns back to the bartender. “Have we met before?” he asks. “I played for Shiratorizawa. Didn’t think I’d see you again, Karasuno Samurai.” Asahi frowns slightly. He hasn’t heard that nickname high school, and it’s weird hearing it again now. “Right,” he says. “Well, thanks again. Have a good night.” Asahi leads you out of the bar and down the sidewalk. You hold tightly to his arm, stumbling over yourself. He braces you against his side, and you take this opportunity to tease him a little bit. “Do you like my outfit, Asahi-san?” you ask, pressing into his side. “Yeah, it’s really nice!” he answers nervously, turning his head to hide the blush creeping up his cheeks. He’s not lying – you look beautiful, both your top and your skirt accentuating your curves in all the right places. But it would be wrong to say anything more than that while you’re in this state. That wouldn’t be fair to either of you. He brusquely clears his throat and keeps walking as soon as the light signals that you can cross. “I dressed up extra nice tonight, but it didn’t even fucking matter,” you grumble, your voice breaking slightly. Asahi either doesn’t hear you, or does hear you and decides not to say anything. “I’m soooo glad you’re here,” you say, drawing out your words even longer than you were a minute ago. “I’m sorry, this is super embarrassing! I should’ve figured this out on my own.” “It’s okay,” Asahi says. “How long have you been in Tokyo again?” “A month? I think?” “Exactly,” he says. “You probably don’t know your way around that much. I’d feel terrible if I wasn’t able to help you find your way home.” “Meh,” you say. “I’ve had the worst night of my fucking life, so maybe it would be better if I passed out in a ditch somewhere.” “Do you want to talk about it?” Asahi asks. “No,” you answer quickly. “Okay.” You start blathering again and Asahi has to practically drag you down the street behind him. The station just past his apartment has a train that can drop you right by your building. He can just take a cab back after he gets you home. He considers inviting you stay the night at his place since it’s right there, but he’s afraid of being weird, so he doesn’t say anything. The two of you come to a stop at the train station… which is closed. “I’m sorry,” Asahi says remorsefully. “I guess the train stopped running at midnight. I’ll call you a cab.” He goes to pull his phone out of his pocket, but you grab his hand before he can. “Can I stay at your place tonight?” you ask sheepishly. “I… my roommate is out of town. And I’m really not doing good right now. I just really don’t want to be alone.” Despite how out of it you’ve been since he picked you up, Asahi sees nothing but complete sincerity in your eyes. Tonight must have been really rough. “Are you sure?” he asks. “I’ll just sleep on the couch- or a futon if you have one!” you say, nodding. “Okay.” Asahi turns back towards his apartment and you follow closely behind him, not letting go of his hand the entire time.

Asahi helps you across the threshold of his apartment and sits you down on a chair by the door. “Asahi-san, you’re so handsome with your hair down like that,” you say, reaching up to twirl a finger in his long chestnut tresses. “And you’re loopy,” Asahi mutters, disentangling your fingers from his hair. Once again, he finds himself hiding a blush. He’s not used to being showered with compliments, and he knows you wouldn’t be saying this stuff if you were sober. He kicks off his shoes and kneels down in front of you, helping you take yours off. “How are you feeling?” he asks you. “Can I get you some water or a some–” “Why didn’t you ask me out when we were in high school?” you ask suddenly. “I think I made it pretty obvious that I had a crush on you. It’s all I could think about when you were holding my hand back there.” “I – I, uh,” Asahi stammers. You burst out laughing, startling Asahi. It’s that same boisterous laugh you’ve had for as long as he could remember knowing you. You were always self-conscious about it in high school, but your laugh has always been one of Asahi’s favorite things about you. Despite the fact that it’s at his expense, he’s glad to see your mood improve. Asahi considers your question for a moment. He really liked you too back then, and everyone knew it. Suga and Daichi constantly teased him for it.

So why hadn’t he asked you out back then?

Well, for a number of reasons. He spent so much of his third year focused on volleyball that he didn’t have the mental or emotional capacity for much else. He hadn’t even planned on going back to school after graduation until Nishinoya helped convince him to pursue his passions. He felt directionless, and he didn’t want to burden anybody else with his indecision. But most importantly, he was scared you’d reject him. Suga was right. He really was a coward. He’d dated a few people since high school graduation, but none of them made him feel the way you did, and they didn’t treat him as well as you would have. Which begs the question – why hasn’t he asked you out since you moved to Tokyo? He pushes the thought to the back of his mind. This isn’t the kind of conversation to be having when you aren’t even able to form a coherent sentence. Asahi’s thoughts are interrupted by your hand on his shoulder and a loud hiccup. “I should wash my face. Can I wash my face?” “Sure,” Asahi says, helping you stand up. You stumble forward, but he catches you easily and pulls you back to your feet. He quietly leads you to the bathroom and sits you down on the edge of the bathtub. “I’m sorry,” you say. “I’m a mess.” “No, you’re not. Hold on a second,” he says, opening the drawer under the sink. He pulls out a small package of makeup wipes and takes one out. He kneels in front of you and begins wiping the makeup off your face. “I know they’re not great for your skin,” he says. “But it’s better than nothing, right?” “Why do you even have those?” you ask between hiccups. “Do you wear makeup? I mean, it’s obviously fine if you do, but it doesn’t really seem like your thing.” “I don’t, but you never know when they’ll come in handy! I do work with a lot of makeup artists,” he says, somewhat defensively. You get the sense that he’s lying about something, but Asahi changes the subject before you can probe him any further. “So what were you doing there by yourself?” he asks. “It’s not safe to be alone so late at night.” Clearly this was the wrong thing to ask. All the negative emotions and thoughts you were having all even spring to the forefront of your mind, and you start to cry. Asahi starts apologizing profusely, but you wave him off. “It’s fine,” you sniffle, wiping a tear away from your cheek. “Kokomi was trying to set me up with one of her friends, but he never showed up.” Asahi sits back on his heels. Kokomi is another girl from Karasuno that ended up in Tokyo. She wasn’t in the same class as him, but he remembers how loud she always was in the hallways. Honestly, both of you were always loud, but you’ve always been much more considerate of others than Kokomi ever was. “Shit,” he mumbles. “That really sucks. I’m sorry.” “Yeah. It does suck.” Asahi grabs another wipe and asks you to close your eyes. You do as he says, and he lightly wipes off your eye makeup. He’s worked with enough models to recognize that you’re wearing false eyelashes, so he gently pulls those off too. You feel yourself start to wobble on the edge of the tub, so you grip his arm to steady yourself. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “It’s okay,” he says. “You don’t need to keep apologizing to me.” “Do you think there’s something wrong with me?” you ask suddenly. “Wait, what?” “I just… this keeps happening to me. Everyone always says that it’s because they’re not the right person for me, but it’s starting to feel like there’s just something wrong with me instead,” you say, choking back a sob. “I know I just moved here, but I’m just so lonely. I hate feeling like I’m not good enough.” Asahi tenderly wipes a tear from your cheek and cups your face in both hands. “Hey, look at me. There is nothing wrong with you,” he says sincerely. “That guy is an idiot and a jerk. If he had any idea how extraordinary you are, he never would’ve done that to you.” You can’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes. You don’t feel like you deserve to be spoken to like this – with such genuine kindness and sincerity. Asahi makes you feel so good. So special. He always has. And he’s just so… tender, especially for somebody who looks as intimidating as he does. You wonder if those feelings from high school ever truly went away. You sit up straighter and try to smile at him, but your stomach flips unexpectedly and violently. “Asahi-san?” you ask, gripping his shoulder tightly. “Yeah?” he replies. “Toilet.” Asahi moves out of the way as fast as possible. You hunch over the rim and retch into the toilet bowl. Asahi quickly scoops up your hair and holds it behind your head as you throw up. “Please, just leave me,” you mutter. “I’m gonna fucking die here.” “I’m not going to leave you here and you’re not going to die,” Asahi says, gingerly picking up the last loose strands laying on your neck and holding them back with the rest of your hair. Your back tenses up again before you begin heaving once more. Asahi tucks his nose into the collar of his shirt, careful to make sure that he’s out of your field of vision. He wants to be there for you but he had a weak stomach himself and the sight and smell of somebody else’s vomit is something he knows he won’t be able to handle. You mumble weak apologies between hacks, but Asahi just ignores them and rubs your back gently. After what feels like an eternity, the churning in your stomach finally stops and you reach up towards the flush handle. The exhaustion in your body and heart finally begin to catch up with you, and your hand falls back to your side. “I got it. Do you think you’re done?” Asahi asks, coaxing you back up into a seated position. You nod, too tired to try to speak. Asahi quickly tugs his shirt back down from his face before you can see and closes the toilet lid. “I’m sorry,” you mumble. “Don’t be,” Asahi says, flushing the toilet. “I’m your friend. I want to help you. And I’ve already told you that you don’t need to apologize to me.” Asahi helps you sit on the top of the toilet and rises to his feet. “Don’t go anywhere,” he says, scurrying out of the room. Although your eyes are closed, you still feel your body swaying. More than anything, you just want to go to sleep. Asahi pads back into the room and presses a wooden cup into your hands. “Drink this,” he says, turning on the faucet. Even though drinking something is the last thing you want to be doing right now, you go ahead and lift the cup to your open mouth. Cold water passes your lips and washes away some of the disgusting taste in your mouth. It feels gross, but you force yourself to drink all of it. Asahi takes the cup from your hand and turns the faucet back off. You flinch at the feeling of a damp washcloth on your face. “It’s okay,” Asahi says gently, cradling your chin with his free hand and angling your face up. “Just cleaning you up a little.” You murmur in acknowledgement and Asahi continues to wipe your face down. You almost fall asleep sitting on his toilet, but he gently shakes you to keep you awake. “Stay with me for another minute,” he says softly. “You can go to sleep soon. You’re gonna be just fine. I promise.” His words and his voice are so sweet that you want to cry. A couple rogue tears drip from your eyes and onto his hands. “I’m sorry,” you say once more. Asahi sets the washcloth on the counter and starts to pull you to your feet. You struggle to stay on your feet, so instead, he carefully scoops you into his arms and carries you out the bathroom. You don’t care where you go, you just need to sleep. Asahi’s pretty certain you’re asleep by the time he deposits you on his mattress. Your chest rises and falls slowly as he pulls his duvet over you. He begins to make his way to the couch, but stops when he feels you grab his hand. “Please don’t go, Asahi-san,” you whisper. “Please.” You tug harder at his fingers and he knows he can’t refuse you. He ends up sitting on the edge of the bed holding your hand until you fall asleep.

As soon as your quiet snores permeate the silence, Asahi untangles his fingers from yours. He brushes a loose strand of hair out of your face and he can’t help but let his eyes linger on your sleeping face for just a moment. The moonlight trickling through the window illuminates your hair and casts a silvery glow on your skin. Despite the awful night you’ve had, you look absolutely radiant. He feels himself blushing again, but he takes some comfort in the fact that he doesn’t have to try and hide it this time. Not while you’re fast asleep in his bed. He’s far too scared to admit it, even to himself, but he’s fantasized about falling asleep next to you many times before. But in those fantasies you weren’t drunk and crying over another man. Asahi sighs, stands up, and moves over to the dresser as quietly as he can. After setting a few things out for you, he goes into the bathroom, gets ready for bed and heads to the couch for the night.

By the time you wake up in the morning, you feel like you’re going to die. You can’t remember what exactly happened the previous night. The last thing you remember clearly was talking to the bartender about high school volleyball, of all things. Your head’s pounding, and your stomach aches painfully, screaming at you to please eat something. You don’t open your eyes, fearing that it would somehow trigger another round of vomiting. Eventually, you force yourself into a seated position and open your eyes. The bedroom you’re in is small, but pretty well-decorated. It’s decently tidy. The only mess is a few crumpled up clothing designs discarded on the floor next to the trash bin.

Designs? Did that mean?

You’re at Asahi’s apartment. In his bed. Your eyes widen in panic.

What happened last night?

You’re still wearing the clothes that you wore to the bar last night. And there’s no evidence of him ever being in bed with you. You reach over towards your phone, which has been graciously plugged in for you and set on the bedside table. That’s when you notice the note along with a sleeve of crackers and a glass of ginger ale.

Good morning!

There’s a set of clothes you can wear at the foot of the bed and a spare toothbrush in the bathroom. Feel free to take a shower if you want. Extra towels are underneath the sink. Please have something to eat and drink too. You’ll feel better if you do.

-Asahi

P.S. Please don’t feel bad. It’s okay.

You grab a few of the crackers from the bedside table and eat them, washing them down with the ginger ale.

Why does Asahi have to be so damn considerate? The whole situation is so embarrassing.

You contemplate just grabbing your phone and getting the hell out of his apartment, but you’re not going to pass up the opportunity to shower. You finish the last of the crackers, chug down the ginger ale, and grab the spare clothes at the end of the bed. You turn the doorknob as silently as you can and awkwardly creep down the hall towards the bathroom, stopping briefly to peek in the living room. Asahi’s fast asleep on the couch, clad only in pajama pants and a pair of fuzzy socks. His hair is down and messily splayed across the throw pillow he’s resting his head on. Quiet snores pass his lips. He looks cute. Your eyes trail from his face and down to his stomach. Despite quitting volleyball after high school, he seems to have mostly maintained his athletic form, except for a tiny little layer of pudge on his lower stomach. The corners of your lips twitch up into a smile, until that little voice in the back of your mind reminds you of your place.

Quit staring, you perv! You need to get out of here!

You hurriedly continue down the hallway and jump into the shower as soon as you get into the bathroom. You think that maybe if you clean up fast enough, you can get out of Asahi’s apartment before he wakes up. However, as soon as you step into the shower, all worries about rushing out disappear into the back of your mind. You bask in the hot water, the steam clearing your sinuses and relieving some of the pain in your head. You silently thank the gods that Asahi actually uses conditioner, and not just 3-in-1 like most of the other men you were previously…. acquainted with. Although, it makes sense to you that somebody with hair like Asahi’s would have a strict haircare routine. As you shower, fragmented memories of last night start to come back to you.

Being stood up at the bar. Calling Asahi for help. Puking your guts out in his bathroom. Him carrying you into his room and laying you down on his bed. Him staying by your side until you fell asleep. You wishing he would’ve crawled into bed with you and held you through the night… Wait, what was that last part?

As soon as you’re done rinsing the conditioner from your hair, you step out of the shower and swiftly towel off. You find the spare toothbrush Asahi mentioned, take it out of the packaging, and brush your teeth with his toothpaste. The dry, gross feeling in your mouth is quickly replaced with a minty fresh taste. You slip on the sweatpants and t-shirt that Asahi left for you and dry your hair. Thankfully, Asahi isn’t as huge as most people make him out to be, so while the clothes he left out are a bit big on you, you’re not drowning in them. You’ll just bring them back some other day. You start combing through your hair, and that’s when you hear it – the sound of somebody padding around in the apartment. Shit. Once the footsteps quiet down, you rush out of the bathroom and towards the front door. Asahi eyes you as you scoop up your shoes, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Good morning!” he says kindly. “How are you feeling?” “I’m so sorry Azumane-san, it won’t happen again!” you say as you throw open the door and rush into the hallway. “Hold on, wait up!” he says as you pull the door closed behind you. You run all the way to the stairs at the end of the hallway and go to call Kokomi for a ride home. That’s when you realize that your phone is still plugged into the wall in Asahi’s room. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You turn around and trudge back towards his apartment. Before you can even knock, the door opens slowly. Asahi stands there in just his pajama pants, holding your phone out to you. “You shouldn’t leave without your phone,” he says. You thank him and take your phone, a blush creeping up your cheeks. You try not to stare at his bare chest, already feeling like a creep for ogling him while he was sleeping. “Your clothes are still in the bathroom, too,” he says. “I can go get them for you. Or I can just wash them and give them back to you another time if you want to leave.” “No, that’s okay,” you say, covering your flushing cheeks with the collar of his shirt. “I’ll get them. Can I come in?” “Of course.” Asahi steps out of your way and you head straight for the bathroom, avoiding looking in his eyes. Asahi never gets angry, and you know he wouldn’t be mad at you over something like this, but a lingering sense of shame still washes over you. You scoop up your clothes and leave the bathroom. As soon as you cross the threshold into the living room, the smell of coffee and frying fish washes over you. Asahi stands in the kitchen, cooking breakfast. In the time that you were in the bathroom, he put on a Black Jackals sweatshirt and threw his hair into a loose bun. “Do you want a cup of coffee?” he asks, smiling at you and pouring his own cup. “It’ll help with the hangover.” You stand there and ponder his offer for a moment. Sensing your hesitancy, Asahi suddenly turns back to the stove and mumbles something that you can’t quite make out. “What did you say?” you ask. Asahi rubs the back of his neck, a nervous habit he’s had since you were kids. “I don’t mean to pressure you to stay or anything! I just thought it might help for you to have something more than crackers and ginger ale.” “You’ve done plenty to help me since last night,” you say. “But I’ll take that coffee if the offer is still on the table.” “It is!” Asahi says a little too enthusiastically for his own good. You can’t help but smirk as you take your seat at the kitchen table. Asahi pours you a cup of coffee and slides you a bowl of the rice and fish he made. You thank him quietly and start to eat. He slides into the chair across from you and eats his own breakfast, eyeing you carefully. “What?” you ask after catching him staring. “Since when have you ever called me Azumane-san?” he asks. “I don’t know,” you mumble into your coffee mug. “I didn’t think we reverted back from first name basis,” he says. “I thought we knew each other better than that.” “I don’t know,” you say, a devilish smile crossing your face. “Care to explain why you actually had those makeup wipes in your bathroom drawer? I doubt your makeup artists are coming over to your apartment.” Now it’s Asahi’s turn to blush again. “My ex-girlfriend left them here,” he says. “Felt like a waste to just throw them out.” “Ex-girlfriend?!” you exclaim suddenly, startling Asahi and causing him to drop the wipe on the floor. “I didn’t know you were seeing somebody!” “Yeah,” he says, throwing the wipe in the trash and grabbing a fresh one. “We broke up a while before you moved to the city. She left a bunch of her stuff here and refused to come pick it up. I think she was just too embarrassed to see me again. I got rid of most of it a while ago, but I kept some of the more… uh, utilitarian things.” “I’m sorry,” you say sincerely. “Why did you break up?” Asahi feels a slight pang in his chest. He met his last girlfriend through his job. She was nice enough, and things seemed like they were going okay until he showed up at her apartment to surprise her for their 6 month anniversary, only to find another man in her bed. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” you say. “It’s fine. She cheated on me with some other guy,” he says, his expression darkening. “I think they’re engaged now.” “Shit,” you say. “What a bitch.” “Woah, settle down, it’s okay –” “No, it’s not,” you say firmly. “You deserve someone way better than that. Somebody that treats you with the love and respect that you deserve.” Asahi knows you’re right, but he doesn’t really want to press it. That whole mess had done a number on his mental health, and he really doesn’t want to burden you with his emotional baggage. He adjusts his glasses again and forces a smile. “You know, you should really take your own advice,” he says. You try to think back on what you had said to him last night. The details are fuzzy, but you remember crying. A lot. Instead of answering him, you shovel down the last of the rice and fish. “Thank you for the meal,” you say. Asahi smiles and nods at you before beginning to clear the dishes away. You stand up and stop him, insisting that you clean up yourself. As you finish drying the bowls, your phone buzzes. You check it, only to see a handful of missed texts from Kokomi.

Ono Kokomi [8:32} Hey!! Sorry I missed your call. How was he? (°◡°♡) [9:14] That good? (^.~)☆ [9:18] Or that bad?! (;;;*_*) [9:57] HELLO?? (ﾉಥ益ಥ)ﾉ [10:32] ARE YOU ALIVE?!?!?! 〣( ºΔº )〣

You roll your eyes and quickly type out your response.

Y/N [10:33] Yeah, no thanks to you. (￢_￢;)

Ono Kokomi [10:34] Was it really that bad?

Y/N [10:34] He didn’t even show up. (╥_╥) [10:34] Azumane picked me up at 2 AM because I was too drunk to go home alone. I stayed the night at his place. [10:34] Speaking of which, can you come pick me up? Not really in a state to take the train and I think you owe me one.

Ono Kokomi [10:35] (⊙_⊙) [10:35] Spill. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Y/N [10:36] There’s nothing to spill. I threw up in his bathroom and he slept on the couch. Can you just answer my question please? (҂` ﾛ ´)凸

Ono Kokomi [10:36] Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m on my way, lovebird. (￣ε￣＠)

“Everything okay?” Asahi asks. “Yeah,” you say, slipping your phone back into your pocket. “Kokomi’s going to come pick me up.” “Are you sure? I can take you if you want,” he offers. “Yeah, she’s already on her way,” you say, setting the bowl down and turning to face him. “Besides, you’ve done more than enough for me already over the last twelve hours.” You silently pick up your things and walk towards the door. Asahi rises from his chair and awkwardly clears his throat. “Do you have all your stuff?” You nod and smile. Before you open the door, you approach him and wrap your arms around his waist. He shyly hugs you back, hoping you can’t hear the rapid pounding in his chest. “Thank you, Asahi,” you whisper. “You’re amazing.” You let go first and leave his apartment quietly. As soon as the door closes, Asahi walks back into the living room and flops down on the couch. He covers his face with his hands and groans. This morning was almost too much for him – seeing you in his clothes, eating breakfast together, you hugging him before you left. It was all so painfully domestic, and he wishes it didn’t have to end. If only he wasn’t such a coward, he would’ve asked you to stay longer. He doesn’t know how long he lays there until he finally decides to get moving for the day and finish that piece he was working on when you called last night. He checks his phone and sees your name pop up on the screen.

Y/N [11:00] I’m home. Thanks again for babysitting me last night. Whatever did I do to deserve you as my guardian angel? ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊˚ [11:00] Or was that Noya-san? I forget. (^ω~)

Azumane Asahi [11:01] Lol. You’re welcome. And that was what we called Noya in our club days, but I don’t mind you calling me that too (* ^ ω ^)

Y/N [11:03] Let me make it up to you. [11:04] Come over for dinner tomorrow night?

Asahi almost drops his phone on his face. His fingers fumble as he types his response. He waits a moment before sending it, rereading it ten times to make sure he doesn’t come across as desperate.

Azumane Asahi [11:07] I’d love to. Do you want me to bring anything?

Y/N [11:08] That’s not necessary. I owe you a nice dinner. [11:09] You still like tonkotsu ramen?

Azumane Asahi [11:10] I do!

Y/N [11:11] It’s a date! See you tomorrow! (☞°ヮ°)☞ ☜(°ヮ°☜)

“You said nothing happened last night,” Kokomi says, staring over your shoulder at your phone. “Nothing happened, Kokomi. Now leave me alone,” you snap, tossing one of your throw pillows at her. She deftly catches it and plops down on the couch next to you. “Please,” she says, swatting you with the pillow. “The only reason you two haven’t gotten together is because you’re the densest people on the planet. I bet he’s flopped down on his couch right now thinking about how he doesn’t even want to wait that long to see you.” “Shut up,” you grumble. Kokomi’s phone rings and she quickly checks it. “Anyway, I have to go meet Kaito,” she says. “Got to go. Let me know how your date goes!” She waves and practically skips out the front door. You lay down and start making a shopping list for ingredients for tonkatsu ramen. As soon as you’re done, you set your phone down and cross your arms over your face.

“I bet he’s flopped down on his couch right now thinking about how he doesn’t even want to wait that long to see you.” No, Kokomi. That’s me.

#asahi azumane #azumane asahi #asahi x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fic writer #asahi x female reader #asahi x you #asahi x yn

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undyingskies · 3 years

Text

Best Friend’s Brother

request: yes, “Hi, how are you? I've a request: y / n is one of Charlie's older brother friends and lives with Owen and Char ', because she is a writer for JATP. One day Owen and Charlie are live, Y / N's doing the dishes. Owen jokes that Y / N has to use a chair to put the dishes away (she is about 5'1). Y/N hasn't seen them and continues to sing and dance to musicals (heather, mamma mia, rhps, hamilton, location), doing the dishe. Charlie has heartfelt eyes for her. You decide what's next. Thank you! <3”

A/N: This was really fun to write, I hope you enjoy!

Warning: None

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Everyone thought you were crazy for moving in with two boys. Why in the world would a single 20 something year old want to move in with two 20 something year old guys. But you loved it, you really did.

The thing here is your best friend was one of your roommates older brother. Michael Gillespie was the one and only best friend in question, when he found out that both you and Charlie would be working on the same show, he thought it was a no brainer to offer up the idea of you two living together. Neither of you really minded the idea, it was just up to Owen to say it was alright.

At first you thought maybe it would be weird, but Michael was right, it was better to be living with someone you knew than be alone in a different city. You and Charlie were the same age, Michael was older. He was your best friend but more often than not he acted like an older brother and truthfully, he felt better sending you off to a new city with Charlie than you alone.

Living with the boys had proved to be more fun than you ever thought it would. You were a writer on the show and the boys were the stars, so your hours were a little different from each other’s. That still gave you the time and space to yourself and that’s really all you could ask for.

This week was the first week in about two months that you had off, well everyone had off. After countless days and sleepless nights for the whole cast and crew they decided a week off would do no harm.

This was your third day off and the freezing Canada streets were not calling you or the boys. You were staying locked up in your apartment with the heat on blast. The boys decided to just hang around and go live to talk to fans. You decided it was time to clean, you did laundry, vacuumed your room and living room, and your last task was the pile of dishing that has accumulated in the sink.

You had your hair pulled up in a low bun to keep it out of your face, you had your workout shorts on that were covered by the large oversized shirt you stole from one of the boys, and fuzzy socks hugged your feet to keep them warm. You had your music blasting; you were in your element.

Your dance moves and music had caught the attention of the fans, you didn’t know but you were in the background of the live. Comments started flooding in about you.

Owen chuckles as he reads through them. “Can Y/N reach the dishes it looks like she’s hopping up to get them done?” He reads out. This one gets a laugh out of both Owen and Charlie.

“She actually has to use a step stool, we love our tiny but might Y/N, a full 5”1.” Owen laughs, Charlie shakes his head.

“Is she listening to musicals?” Another comment asks.

“Yes, she is. She’s a theatre nut, I think this is what the third musical of the morning?” Charlie answers back.

He was right, it was the third. You started off with Heathers, then moved onto Location, and now you were finishing Mama Mia. You weren’t quite done with your playlists of musicals though. The starting cords of Alexander Hamilton came through your speaker. A loud squeal escapes you.

Since Hamilton came out on Disney+ a few months ago the hype for it came back again. You and Owen were constantly listening to it and competing on who could learn the raps faster.

“The ten-dollar founding father without a father, got a lot farther by working a lot harder, by being a lot smarter.” You rap along with Anthony Ramos, turning from the sink to face the boys. Owen already on his feet facing you getting ready to rap the next lines.

“By being a self starter, by fourteen, they placed him in charge of a trading charter.” Owen raps as you make your way into the living room. The two of you facing each other getting ready for your rap battle.

Charlie laughed at the sight in front of him, this was a lot more common than people thought. It happened at least once a week.

The fans were loving it and were going crazy over the constant switch of you rapping then Owen rapping. Charlie just watching being content, his eyes never really leaving your short figure. He loved the sight of you in your element like this, the brightest smile on your face. He also didn’t miss the fact that you were wearing his shirt. He had wondered where it went.

Don’t think the fans didn’t notice the look on Charlie’s face as he watched the two of you and how it never left you.

“What’s your name man? Alexander Hamilton.” Both you and Owen yell together at the last line, falling into a fit of laughter.

“That was good guys, the fans loved your show.” Charlie tells the both of you. Owen plops down on the couch next to him laughing. You smile and throw your arms over Charlie’s shoulders leaning over him to look at the screen.

You didn’t catch it but a blush made its way onto Charlie’s cheeks at your actions and contact.

“You’re welcome you guys, I aim to please.” You laugh out, responding to the comments. “Now I am off to finish the dishes.” You say with a wave and then you’re off again.

Charlie and Owen sit silently for a few seconds reading over the comments. That’s when all of them came flooding in talking about the way Charlie looked at, the blush on his cheeks when you touched him, and the speculations of him liking you.

Owen laughs at points one out. “Look dude.” He says. The comment read, “Charlie looked like a deer in headlights looking at Y/N, while also being the epitome of the heart eyes emoji.” Charlie blushes at the comment.

“Well she’s not wrong.” Owen laughs.

“Shut up dude.” Charlie says shoving him away. He wasn’t ready to spill the beans about his feelings for his brothers best friend.

Owen just shrugs it off. The rest of the live was spent with Charlie avoiding any and all comments or questions about you and Owen trying his best to switch topics knowing his best friend was getting a little embarrassed.

You finish the dishes and make your way over to the couch. You immediately land next to Charlie, resting your back on his side like he’s the back of the couch. He throws his arm around you, pulling you closer.

“You guys down to order some food, I’m hungry.” You ask them. The boys agree and go to say their goodbyes to the fans, ending the live.

“So what are you thinking?” Owen asks you.

“Mmmm maybe pizza?” You say thinking out loud.

“Sounds good to me.” Owen says, Charlie agreeing. “I can make the call to order it.” You tell the boys, getting up to walk out of the room to make the call.

“You know you should tell her.” Owen says looking at Charlie, as he watches you walk out of the room.

Charlie let’s out a sigh and shakes her head. “I don’t think I can, I don’t want to ruin the friendship we have or the one she has with my brother.” He confesses.

“Okay first of all you have to be blind if you don’t think she likes you back. Second of all your brother knows how you feel about her you idiot, if the fans noticed almost immediately, your brother for sure knows.” Owen says. “Besides he told me! He pushed the two of you to live together in hopes it would get one of you to confess your feelings for each other.”

Charlie is shocked at Owens words. He didn’t really know how to wrap his head around his confession. If his brother says you like him than it is a chance it’s true, but then again, he could just be messing with him it is his brother after all.

“I don’t know, I wouldn’t know how to tell her.” Charlie gets out before you come walking back into the room, shutting them both up.

“Tell who what?” You asks, plopping down again next to Charlie.

“Oh nothing.” Charlie says trying to brush the topic away. Owen rolls his eyes. “I’m going to go take a shower while we wait for the pizza.” He says, leaving the two of you alone. When he leaves, he whispers to Charlie, “Tell her.”

Charlie just shoots him a dirty look. You notice their littler interaction but don’t question it, you’ve learned that at times it’s the best thing to do.

The two of you just sit in silence with Owen going. You not really paying attention and just scrolling through your phone and Charlie just lost in his thoughts and conflicting feelings about telling you.

He was thinking he might as well, if Owen says his brother already knows and they both swear you like him back, then why not go for it? Plus after that live with all the fans there’s no way you won’t see some of their comments. He thinks now is the time, just go for it.

Next thing you know a hand is slapping your phone out of your hands and the body to which you were leaning on has moved and you’ve fallen flat on your back.

“Charlie what the hell?” You ask him. You weren’t ready for any of that. You push yourself up, lock your phone and push it to the side. You turn to face the now distressed boy.

“We need to talk.” That’s all he says and then he is on his feet pacing.

“Okay, talk about what?” You ask, while watching Charlie strut back and forth.

You let him walk back and forth for a couple minutes, letting the silence take over the two of you before you probe him for an answer again.

“Charlie? Talk about what?” You ask again. “Just...Just give me a second okay?” He says in a stern way that makes you sit back in the couch and give him a nod of approval.

It takes him a few more struts and silence before he stops right in front of you and faces you. That is when he bursts with his confession.

“I like you Y/N, I like you okay! I have for a while and I just think you should know that.” He says exasperated. His arms fall to his sides and the two of you just stare at one another.

The silence and his confession sitting on top of you like a cloud. Charlie was now nervous and scared at your reaction, while you were just stunned.

You never even thought you had a chance with Charlie. He was your best friends brother, you never thought in a million years Charlie would ever think of you the way you thought about him. You’re lost in your thoughts but the song My Best Friends Brother by Victoria Justice starts to play in your head, causing you to giggle.

“Alright I know my confession was out of the blue but you don’t have to laugh at me.” Charlie says feeling sad and getting ready to walk away.

“No, Charlie, stop! I’m not...I’m not laughing at you” You say through your giggles. You stand up and grab his wrist not letting him turn away from you.

“I’m sorry Charlie, it’s just, you know that song? The one that goes, my best friends brother is the one for me. It just it started playing in my head and I couldn’t help myself.” You tell him, a little embarrassed at your own confession.

“That’s what you think about in this moment? Really Y/N? A song?” He asks. Then realization hits him. “Wait my best friends brother is the one for me?” He asks, stepping a little closer to you. Your chests now touching.

You bite your lip and nod your head yes. You let him wrap his arms around your waist to pull the two of you flush together.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but I’ve liked you for a while now.” You confess. A large smile adorns both of your faces.

That’s when it happens. His lips met yours, finally. You let yourself melt into his kiss, loving the feeling. The two of you lost in the moment until you hear,

“Finally!” Owen yells, breaking the two of you apart. The both of you smiling and blushing.

“Also pizza is here and now Michael owes me 20 bucks so thank you for that!” Owen smiles and walks into the kitchen, with the pizza in hand.

“I guess Owen and Michael knew this was coming.” You say while looking up at Charlie smiling.

“I guess so.” He says before pressing his lips against yours for the second time. This time the two of you pull apart at the sound of your phones buzzing in sync.

Both of you check your phone, it’s a text from Michael that reads.

“As much as I am glad that one of you grew some balls to tell each other that you liked them, could you have at least done it a week later?? I was so close to winning that bet.”

You both laugh. Only Michael and Owen would make a bet about this. Charlie grabs your hand and leads you into the kitchen so the three of you could enjoy the warm pizza.

Charlie sits beside you, with a hand on your thigh. Not ready to let you go yet since he just got you. You smile and laugh with Charlie and Owen; thinking you are so lucky to have the two of them. Turns out your best friends brother really is the one for you.

#charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie imagine #charlie x reader #charlie gillespie x oc #charlie gillespie x reader #charliegillespieimagine #charliegillespieimagines #charlie gillespie fic #charlie gillespie fanfiction #charlie gillespie fluff #julie and the phantoms #julieandthephantomsimagine #jatp

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sintatae · 3 years

Text

qn | part two

qn or quaque nocte: an abbreviation that nurses and other healthcare workers use for medications and interventions to occur every night // 3670 words

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre: nurse!reader, business analyst!taehyung, f2l, mild fake dating, neighbours, angst, fluff, breakfast dates and nighttime strolls

summary: …in which you love the night and he loves the day. you’re grumpy, shy, and keep to yourself. while he’s pure joy, fearless and outgoing. you have the makeup to be complete opposites of each other, but it’s in both of your favourite parts of the day, where you realize you’re a lot closer than you thought.

summary | part one | part two

inspo | masterlist

Buzz. Buzz-buzz. Eyes fluttering open as if angry at the world, you reach under your pillow to find 2 missed calls from Taehyung and 1 (probably drunken) missed call from Bianca. Rubbing your eyes, you look at the clock above your bed to see that is it now 0900 in the morning. On your weekend off.

What in the world?

You open your phone to a flurry of text messages.

Bibi (1): okso ur gonna come out with us again right I miss u come hangout w me u_u [0345]

Jimin (1): So......what happened last night? Also any idea why I’m on the couch with Namjoon lol [0812]

You shake your head laughing at the memories of Bibi’s relentless ploys to get you out of the house and hauling one of Jimin’s listless arms around your shoulders while you dragged him through the backdoor.

Shooting straight up in bed, you remember what happened the previous night and touch your fingers to your lips as the feeling of Taehyung’s lips against yours lingered.

There was never a considerable amount of time that you thought about Taehyung. Truthfully, you didn’t spend a whole lot of time thinking about what he meant to you aside from the fact that he was becoming one of your closest friends in a city far from your own. Before you even realized it, he became a part of ‘home’ to you. Because there was a comfort about Taehyung, almost like the feeling of sinking into your most comfortable pillow after a long day or night. Almost like sitting next to a warm fire on the beach during summer, if you got too close, he shined brightly enough to make you forget your worries. He was chicken soup for the soul. Perhaps it had been the reason you suckered him into this position in the first place. Taehyung was comfort.

Perhaps, it was all starting to make sense to you, despite how oblivious you had been. The way that he always met you on your way home or made sure that you had something to eat. Always inviting you to come hang out with him and the boys or even the way he constantly teased you about sleeping all day, when being a hermit was all you wanted to do. You didn’t even realize how easily he could convince you to hang out, which was a feat that no unknowing person could do.

Taehyung felt the same way too. At first you were just the cute girl next door who didn’t know anyone apart from one friend named Grace from nursing school who made the move to the city years ago. Something about you drew him in, whether it was your loud, bright laugh or the fact that you always got frazzled whenever someone paid more than enough attention to you. You always wanted to make sure everyone was taken care of before you were. It made him want to take care of you, not that you needed it. Despite your stubborn, at times type A personality, you were also oblivious to how magnetic you were. There wasn’t an uncaring bone in your body. He’s heard how rough you have it at work sometimes, and wanted to make sure that you were taking care of yourself as well. He had no doubt that you were an excellent nurse.

Rubbing your eyes and shaking your head to rid yourself of the ????? panic in your head, you open your messages from Taehyung.

Taehyung (1): Wake up!! [0824]

Taehyung (2): Breakfast time, sleeping beauty! [0856]

Ignoring the rush of nerves in your stomach, you reply.

Y/N: hi [0901]

Y/N: You do know what time it is right [0901]

Ding!

Taehyung: Sure do, it’s 9am. Come outside I made grilled cheese. And coffee as promised. [0902]

Getting up to brush your teeth, you reply.

Y/N: You made grilled cheese? Or Jimin made grilled cheese? [0902]

Taehyung: I sprinkled the cheese. [0903]

Y/N: A man after my own heart. [0903]

Taehyung: :) [0903]

You open another conversation.

Y/N: Thanks for the grilled cheese. [0905]

Jimin: ;) [0905]

After brushing your teeth and throwing on a large sweater over your sleeping shorts, you slide your feet through your house slippers and begrudgingly make your way downstairs. You smooth down your bedhead and grab a blanket from the couch to wrap around yourself, making your way to your backyard door. You see Taehyung bring out two steaming mugs of coffee as you pull open the door— trying your best to give him cut-eye for waking you up early (but failing miserably when you see the extra-large grey sweater he’s donning).

Hands hidden in sweater paws, he sets down the two mugs and glances up at you, grin stretching from ear to ear.

“Hi,” You say sheepishly, coming closer to where he’s standing near their couch on the patio. “I’m tired.”

Arms outstretched as you go near him, Taehyung engulfs you in a hug that smells very much like Taehyung- fresh linen and something sweet. Why do you even know this?

Suddenly feeling shy, you playfully shove him off and onto the couch. “You woke me up, jerk.”

“If you were actually upset, then why are you out here?” He says smirking, ends of his lips curled upwards. Plopping yourself down onto the couch beside you, you pick up your cup of coffee, eyes looking anywhere but his.

“Where’s everyone?”

“Jimin left early to open up the café since someone called in sick, Namjoon is in the shower and Jungkook is still sleeping.” Taehyung says in between bites of his sandwich. Elephant in the room. Balling up his napkin and pushing your plate towards you, he starts “So...”

“So...?” You speak while taking a bite, still avoiding his eyes. An awkward beat passes between the two of you, as you both eat in silence, occasionally glancing up at the other. The summer sun shining bright behind him and rising by the minute, you squint your eyes at him.

“About last night... I think I might have drank too much.” He says. There’s a slight sinking feeling in your stomach as the words leave his mouth, but either way, you make sure he doesn’t feel too bad for acting out of character.

“Oh, don’t worry about it at all, it happens.” You say, indefinitely avoiding his eyes. “You don’t have to have regrets.”

“Actually I do have regrets,” He says, hand reaching out to place on your forearm.

“No no no, you shouldn’t. Actually it makes more sense this way, and honestly I was the one that made you come out with me—”

Before going off on one of your nervous tangents, your argument is cut short when Taehyung runs his hand down your arm to place your hand in his. Stopping yourself, you furrow your brows at him as he laughs lightly to himself.

“What I meant was,” He stops to push a strand of hair behind your ear. “I only have regrets because I didn’t ask you out first. And because I ruined my own plan by kissing you prematurely.” Hearing him say he had his own plan makes you laugh, but you’re still confused.

“When did you…even start feeling this way about me? I had no clue.” Sitting up to grab your mug, “I always just thought you were looking out for me as a good neighbour. Or because you thought I was a loser, sleeping all day and not doing anything.” He laughs at this.

“Well, that’s partly true.” He says, laughing as he sees you giving him some side-eye. Leaning back to throw an arm around your shoulders, Taehyung says, “It wasn’t until seeing you every morning on your way home from work and before I left for work myself, that I realized it was what I looked forward to everyday.”

You soften at this, but can’t help to throw in some self-deprecating humour since you’re still reeling from the confession. “You looked forward to seeing this sleep deprived grump coming home from what was probably a rough shift?”

Flashing his wide smile at you again, he says, “Precisely.”

You stop yourself when you almost check your wrist for your pulse, your heart rate must be over 100 at this point because you suddenly feel out of breath and nervous. Opting to just stay quiet, you lean your head against his shoulder.

A few beats of silence pass as both sit in each other’s company.

“Taehyung, why do you sit out here so late after work?” You feel him tense beside you. Sighing, he says.

“Work… has just been kicking my ass lately.” Pulling you closer into his shoulder and staring forward at nothing particular. “I just have a lot of pressure and weight on my shoulders. So I just need to decompress sometimes.”

“Is it the promotion?”

“Ehhh. Among other things,” he says, nervously twirling your hair above your shoulder. “Hey! Does that mean you’ve been spying on me?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny.” Holding your hand up for a high five, you speak, “I’m here for you though.” Laughing, he reaches up to high five you back, locking your fingers between his. Just then you hear the sliding door open. Jungkook.

You make a move to pull apart but Taehyung stops you and says, “He knows,” while shoving some grilled cheese in his mouth.

“Of course I know,” Jungkook says, stealing the other half of Tae’s sandwich. “It was obvious to all of us after you moved in and all Tae could talk about was helping you with your moving boxes because he wanted to be a gOod nEighBour.”

“Jeeze bro, do you need more sleep or something?” Taehyung says beside you, glaring at his roommate.

“Oh another thing, back before we knew you were nocturnal, he’d always wonder when you’d be awake or if you were home. He always took out the trash at night in case he could see you, so we just let him make it his chore.” Jungkook says grinning.

“Alright, alright,” Taehyung says getting up, shoving the younger boy to the door. “That’s enough. There’s more food inside so go.”

Taehyung pushes a backwards Jungkook all the way until he’s inside the kitchen and pulls it closed. Before departing into the house, Jungkook flashes you two finger hearts while smiling.

All you can do is shake your head and smile, mind still reeling at all of these new revelations.

“Last night was fun though, thanks again.” You say, still avoiding his eyes. “You were a good fake boyfriend.”

“Don’t mention it,” The boy says, both of you making eye contact while a beat passes. “Any time you need me, I’m here.” And he was.

Two weeks go by and despite his confessions, you both fall back into your usual routine. Nothing needed to change, except maybe some flirting and a few stolen kisses here and there. Your schedules made it hard to see each other, especially when you were working but you could always find time to meet whether it was in the early morning sun or late at night in the moonlight. There didn’t need to be labels, you were having fun after all.

There was even one random Thursday night that you may or may not have kept him out longer than intended, not that he cared really.

It was 2330 at night and you were at work after picking up an extra few hours to help with staffing shortages on the unit. You had gotten a ride to work with Esther and completely forgot as you were leaving that you didn’t drive. You texted Taehyung after your shift and after learning your predicament, he called you.

“But Tae, it’s a work night! You don’t have to pick me up.” You nagged on the phone. “It’s late. I was just going to order an Uber.”

“Exactly, all the more reason to pick you up.” Taehyung said on the phone. “I’ll be there in 2 minutes.”

“Fine,” You relent. “But let me treat you at least.”

2 minutes and not a second later, the lights of Taehyung’s car flash at the entrance of the hospital. Towing your work bag over your shoulder, you meet him, smiles donning both of your faces. As soon as you’re in the car, you smile sheepishly at him and thank him for picking you up.

“Hungry?” You ask.

“It’s 11:30 at night.”

“...And?” You say. Taehyung just shrugs. “Okay, well I still have to thank you in some way for picking me up.”

He smirks at this, eyebrows raising. As you reach over and smack him on his shoulder, Taehyung’s expression softens and he laughs. “Okay, okay just kidding.”

“Let’s get breakfast.”

And so the two of you do exactly that, stopping at the 24-hour breakfast place just down the road from the hospital. A staple on your nightshifts. You weren’t planning on dining in, but the two of you naturally slid into a booth and shared a plate of Nutella pancakes loaded with strawberries. An hour and a half had gone by without you even realizing, both of you debating over if sweet or savoury was superior. (Taehyung insisted it was sweet, but a savoury crepe was top tier.) You started getting sleepy since you weren’t able to get your pre-shift coffee.

After paying for your food, the two of you made your way back to his car. Hands in your sweater, you bumped Taehyung’s hip as he threw an arm over your shoulder.

While in the car, streetlights passing, you try to stifle a yawn into your arm.

“Tired?” Taehyung asks.

“Yeah, aren’t you?” You say, eyes drifting closed. “You have work tomorrow...”

Taehyung can only smile at you as he reaches over and threads his fingers through yours. You take his hand in both of yours as you lean your head against the seat, facing the window so he can’t see the blush that creeps on your face. Yep, no labels.

The next morning, Taehyung was late for work. You wake up to his footsteps in the backyard, trudging down the steps of your deck. Glasses perched at the end of his nose, you can tell from behind that he’s walking with his eyes closed as he waddles to his car. Wearing a maroon t-shirt and black jeans, he throws his shoulder bag into the front seat before driving off.

Well, at least it’s casual Friday.

To be honest, you couldn’t exactly pinpoint how you felt about Taehyung. There were definitely feelings there, but you guessed it was just you being cautious and wary as usual. That, and the fact that you weren’t expecting to fall or feel anything remotely of the sort for anyone while you were here.

This isn’t part of your plan.

The panic alarms go off in your head once in a while, but you’ve started to ignore them.

The clock in the nursing station reads 0645 on a Monday and as you sit down to finish charting on all of your patients, you get a text message.

Taehyung: Quick coffee date after work and before I work? [0645]

Taehyung: Or are you too tired? You’re off tonight right? [0645]

Always the double-texter.

Y/N: Yes, I’m tired and yes I’m off tonight. But yes, coffee. :) [0646]

Taehyung: Can’t wait.

You smile and shove your phone away to finish charting. Bibi sits beside you and scoffs, rolling her eyes. You eventually told her why Taehyung came with you that night, from the plan all the way to your walk with him.

“What is it, Bibi?” You say sighing, not even bothering to look up from your computer.

“Nothing, nothing…” Bibi says, twirling around in her computer chair. “Just that you’re a big liar.”

“About what?!” Still not turning to look at her. “When have I ever been untruthful?”

“Oh nothing, except maybe to yourself.” She says, smirking at you. “You know, even though we work in the cardiac ICU, you seem to listen to every heart except your own.”

“Ha ha. How long were you sitting on that one?”

A call bell goes off and she gets up to answer it, but not before shooting you a wink. Saved by the bell, you get a moment of solitude and don’t dwell too much on what she said.

You practically run to your car after changing out of your scrubs (and brushing your teeth). Night shift breath is… no joke. Briefly you wonder if you need to touch up your makeup when you see the dark circles under your eyes, but decide against it –Taehyung never cared how you looked after work and you start making your way to the café.

Taehyung’s already sitting in your usual spot on the loveseat, two coffees on the table in front of him. He’s checking something on his laptop while you sit beside him, eventually nudging him in the arm with your elbow when he doesn’t notice you sitting there.

“Hi.” He says, “Sorry sorry, just finishing up this work presentation.” You wave him off, taking a sip of your coffee. “Okay, done. How are you?” He says, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

A soft blush creeps onto your face, and Taehyung grins. “I’m good. I had a fair assignment last night, but they made me charge nurse.” You frown at Taehyung. You didn’t mind being in charge, but you felt like it was the blind leading the blind when you were with your inch of experience. Thankfully you had a good team working last night.

“Aw, I’m sure you did a great job.” He says, an arm thrown around your shoulder. “Besides, we love a strong woman in charge.” He picks up one of your arms, poking at your bicep. “Well, maybe not that strong.”

You shove him back onto the couch, laughing while Taehyung’s hand comes up to smooth out the crease in his dress shirt. “Hey, I have a presentation to do today. I’m already nervous as it is, so be careful with the merchandise.”

“A presentation? With who?”

“Oh you know, the executives. The partners. The works.”

“I’m sure you’re gonna do fine, Mr. Promotion. Just be yourself.” You say, patting his head. “And I’ll be home tonight, we can decompress together. And maybe get some food.”

“I’d love that.”

“Speaking of food, do you want anything? Breakfast of champions to hype you up for your presentation?”

“I’m almost worried to find out what your version of breakfast means.”

“I’ll surprise you.” You say giggling, getting up to order at the counter. You stand and wait for your food—chocolate croissants (for you), a mini breakfast club and a double shot of expresso for Taehyung. Just as you’re about to send a message to Jungkook about working out later, your order is called out.

But as you make your way over to Taehyung, you realize he’s standing and talking to an older man dressed in a suit. You see the way Taehyung is hurriedly packing his laptop into his work bag, and you awkwardly interrupt to hand him his coffee and sub.

“Hello.” The older man says to you. “I’m Mr. Kim.”

“Hi, I’m Y/N.” You say, sheepishly reaching out to shake his hand and glancing at Taehyung sideways.

“Y/N, this is Mr. Kim, CEO of SunnyDaes.” Taehyung says nervously, shoving his hands into his pockets and looking at everything but your eyes. “And also, my dad.”

You were nervous at graduation, nervous about your maid of honour speech at your sister’s wedding, and you almost passed out writing your nursing licensure exam. But in this moment, it truly felt like your stomach dropped out of your ass.

“Oh. Oh! Hi sir, it’s nice to meet you.” You said, unconsciously bowing before standing up straighter.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Mr. Kim says, with a smirk on his face. “Nice to meet the girl who’s been making Taehyung late for work every day. Do you have work to get to, as well?”

“No, she actually worked last night, Dad.” Taehyung says.

“Oh, did you now? What do you do for work?” Mr. Kim says again, asking you directly, eying you up and down.

“I’m a nurse.” You say, fidgeting with the sleeves of your top, feeling suddenly self-conscious in your sweats.

“Oh, very nice.” He says giving you a soft smile. He adds, “Did you always want to be a nurse? How long were you in school for?”

“Dad, please.” Taehyung says, eyes closing in defeat. “Please don’t grill her. Besides, she needs to get home to sleep. Right, Y/N?”

“Oh no, it’s fine.” You say. “Yes, I always wanted to be a nurse. And I was in school for four years.”

“Ah! That’s surprising.” Taken back, you wait for him to finish. “I guess some young people actually know what they want to do.” Flashing Taehyung a wink, he pats him on the back. “Let’s go. The executives are looking forward to your presentation.”

You look at Taehyung and mouth a quick “good luck” to him. Though your smile says otherwise, he can see the panic in your eyes. You hated surprises and definitely needed time to mentally prepare for well, anything.

Smoothing out his shirt once again, Taehyung makes his way to the café door, his father following behind.

“Oh, and Y/N?” Mr. Kim says, looking back. You nod and he continues, “Would it be alright to grill you later this evening for dinner?”

His back to you, you see Taehyung freeze.

“Um, yeah- I mean, yes that would be alright Mr. Kim.”

“Excellent.”

As they both leave, you sit carefully on the loveseat, thinking about what had just transpired. Feeling numb to your fingers, you wipe your palms on the fabric of your jeans. Long forgetting the croissants in the brown paper bag, you place them on the coffee table in front of you, appetite non-existent.

You can’t ignore the panic alarms now.

AN: hi hi sorry this was long overdue like a year overdue oops, i wrote it and rewrote it so many times before i realized i just needed to post it!! i’m literally posting this before i have to work tonight sooo sorry to leave it on a cliff hanger, but maybe this will push me to keep going hehehe okay anyway i hope y’all enjoy!!

chelsea

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pradadoie · 3 years

Text

A full translation of the third victim’s post - Part 1

T/N; Hey guys. Due to Tumblr’s post limit, I will post the convo translations on the second part of the post. Keep in mind that the situation is still going on and we should stay neutral. This is also not a XX hate post, I am merely translating this as this is a matter heavy post. Do not send threats or hate messages to any party involved and read this post with a clear and neutral mind. If anybody (Especially those fluent in mandarin) wants to make corrections on my post, please do so - this is my first time translating something like this. Thank you.

At first, I didn’t want to speak up about this issue. This is because everybody including myself thought that we’ve broken up on good terms. To be honest, this incident did not cause me harm in terms of mental wellness or any other form, which was why I initially decided to forget about it and move on with my life.

However, after reading yesterday’s posts (containing the allegations + timeline), what I noticed was my experiences overlap with the other victims, and many girls have come out to relay their experiences with him. I also found out that he would talk behind a girl’s back in order to scam a different girl and started up rumors about her - this made me feel betrayed. I felt that this situation isn’t as simple as it seems, and I don’t know whether there will be more victims coming out. I just hope that people would get a wake up call after reading my post/experience, and see him for the person he truly is - I also hope that there will be no more victims.

Pic 1 - Contact with HXX: At first, I was just a fan of his and I really liked him - which was why I attended some of his events/schedules. Until one day, I received an airdrop with the name “luca’s iphone” attached, I used an ID with my name on it to send him a sticker/meme for fun. From then on, we started contacting each other and added each other on Wechat. At first, I felt like a main character/lucky female lead in a romance drama - turns out, I wasn’t the only main character/female lead in his life.

Pic 2 - Spending the night with HXX: After learning that the location (where he had his schedule) was close to my place, he immediately suggested he come over and visit my house, as he wanted to go somewhere with nobody around.

He was somebody of the opposite sex as well as somebody I really liked, therefore I started to overthink. I asked him if he had a girlfriend and he replied that he didn’t have one. If I knew he had a girlfriend during that time, I would have never invited him over to my house and cut all contact.

On that day, I thought that there would be a romance blossoming between us. After his schedule, he went back to his hotel before coming over to my place. I even asked him: “Does your manager know about this? (For a more direct translation, she asked “Does your manager not care?”)” He mentioned that his manager was asleep in the other room and was not aware that he (HXX) went out to visit her.

The first thing he did after stepping into my house was smoke, he even invited me to smoke with him. After that, both of us started drinking and chatting. He mentioned that his best friend (who has not debuted yet) during his trainee days was useless and good for nothing, ranting about how his teammates never put in any effort during practice and never listened, ranted about how a teammate of his stole his fashion related opportunities, and also ranted about how some members are untalented and only debuted due to their visuals. He also mentioned how he disliked Keep Running as he didn’t like how tiring it is and how his seniors give him a lot of pressure. He disliked how his fans gathered at the airport to take his photos etc. He also opened up about how his family wasn’t doing well financially, how his dad’s investments failed, expressed his wish to save money to buy a house and a car and whatnot, and then started ranting about how society is unfair. During that time, I thought he was just a genuine, hardworking boy. However, after seeing many victims expose him of his ways, he was just using this to gain sympathy from me and take advantage of me (translation here may be inaccurate, please correct me if I’m wrong.)

Back then, although I was surprised, I thought that his image was far from his true self. He was always preaching about how much hard work he puts in and mentioned that Iwas the only person who understood how he felt. He gave me the impression that he was realistic and bright, and made me misunderstood that he was someone I could have a heart to heart talk with. After spending the night at my house, he left the next day for his upcoming schedules.

Pic 3 - Demanding for presents

Before arriving at my house, he made excuses about how he didn’t bring enough clothes and asked if I could buy some clothes for him before he came over. He even pointed out the brands he preferred (He wanted Saint L*urent, B*lenciaga, and said he didn’t want B*rberry because he disliked the brand - ironic because he is a brand ambassador for that brand)

Pic 4 - Follow up

Before his schedules, I would ask if he wanted me to go/follow him. He always responded saying it was a waste of time and said I should be prioritizing my studies (and many other excuses). At first, I thought he was being sincere and genuinely thought that he was concerned about my wellbeing. Turns out, he didn’t want me there because he was meeting other people. I was the fool in the end. (Direct translation: Turns out, I was the clown)

When I followed him to his schedules, he would repeatedly ask if I had a house, whether I was living alone, etc. After I told him I had a roommate, he disappeared and did not reply to my texts over the next few days.

I couldn’t bear with the mixed signals and the confusing feelings. During December, I decided to confront him about his ways. However, he ignored my attempts to talk, using his schedules as an excuse to avoid talking to me. After somebody exposed his teammate (?), he kept on telling me that “we’re just friends” and warned me to not expose him. After that conversation, I saw his true colors and cut off all contact with him. I would also like to say that I am grateful for my upbringing and my assertiveness - if the victim was someone who was emotionally fragile or lacked a good support system (or love), would she develop psychological/mental problems (T/n: read between the lines - she’s hinting that somebody could have gotten insecurities/change in mindset that will lead them to do/develop something worse because of his actions) because of scum like him?

During our period of contact, I have repeatedly asked him if he had a girlfriend or whether he was in contact with other girls. All the replies he gave me were “No.” (Refer to Pic 5) He also mentioned that he never drank with other girls as well. I really believed his lies back then, thinking he was just somebody yearning for love. Today, I discovered that he used his idol persona and fans’ love to fulfill his own needs and scam/cheat others, flirting with other women despite having a girlfriend himself, went to different cities to meet different girls and treat them like a personal harem. He also talked behind every girls’ back, constantly speaking ill of them. His behavior made us (OP and the other victims) feel worthless. I acknowledge that issues like this will be forgotten easily as time goes by, and that people would nitpick on this issue and blame this incident on my behavior, for the way I threw myself into a fire of destruction.

In the end, I hope that people like me - who blindly followed and believed him - will open their eyes and see his true side - I hope that you will know better and don’t get hurt the way I did and bear the pressure I faced. Lastly, I hope that all boys and girls alike will no longer suffer from people like him.

#nct #nct u #wayv #wayv translations

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inevitably-johnlocked · 4 years

Note

how does one know if they're ace or aro?

Hi Lovely!!

Ahhhhh, well, sadly this is a different experience for every individual, and I can only speak for myself. I am not Aro, so I can’t give you that personal anecdote, but I am ace.

You see, I grew up in a very conservative city, and went to catholic school, so you just... don’t think of anything other than boy and girl. Except I didn’t think of ANY of that at all. I thought maybe I was just a late bloomer. I got to college and still... nothing. Just what the HELL is wrong with me?

For me, growing up, I just... never understood why everyone was so obsessed with sex, and why making out never “turned me on”. I genuinely thought I was broken, that there was something wrong with me. I like being cuddled and hugged and just having emotional intimacy, but the second someone wanted to go beyond that, I was like “NOPE”, called a prude and a bitch, and that was that. I wanted all the aspects of a relationship but not interested at all in ever having the sex part of it.

But I never brought it up to my doctors, and I’ve never been in a serious relationship because “Hey, I’m broken, no one will want me anyway”, so I focussed on my career instead. I’ve essentially shied away from relationships because I didn’t want to explain to someone that “I’m broken, I only want cuddles, and it has to move at a snail’s pace”. So yeah.

This was all made worse by a mother who constantly told me “what’s wrong with you, why haven’t you given me grandchildren, HAH AHAHAHHA the movie “40 Year Old Virgin” is about you isn’t that hilarious??”

No, mother, it wasn’t.

What clued me into possibly being ace was actually really funny. It was when I got into the Sherlock fandom and people discussed Sherlock’s sexuality, and I believe it was Brönte who mentioned something about asexual Sherlock, since she was a literature major. "Asexual” is one of those terms I’ve heard, but didn’t really know anything about outside of what it meant.

This is where my almost-4-year sexuality crisis began. It has its issues, but I started my journey by reading up everything on Asexuality.org. EVERYTHING including the forums. Then I watched asexual TED talks (there’s one by the founder of Asexuality.org and another by a young person (sorry I can’t remember their pronouns) that are really good and informative) and YouTubers like Amelia Ace and Slice of Ace (Anthony Padilla actually has an interesting “I spent a day with” video with aces that I recommend, and youtuber Ash Hardell came out with a VERY good series I watched when I was learning about myself). Suddenly everything clicked. It was LITERALLY an “Oh.” moment. Then I learned about the split attraction model, which aces use to help clarify where they are on the spectrum, and about 2 years in, I suddenly realized that “Hmm. I’ve always said I want to be with ‘some ONE’ not some man” so I had another long think, did more research, and thought yeah, you know what? I don’t care about the gender presentation of who I end up with, as long as we’re happy and we enjoy each other’s lives.” So yeah that was a bit of a surprise to me.

Then I met other asexuals at 221B con.That was what sealed it for me: their advice and help and just genuine kindness and understanding of how I feel. I’ve NEVER had anyone say “yeah, I feel that way too!”, rather than “I just don’t understand how you can’t want sex. Everyone wants sex!”.

So now, I’m 2 years “out” to my online friends, I’m glad I’m not broken anymore, but let me tell you, it’s a fucking scary thing to go through at 34.

I still am not publicly out, but I don’t make it a secret that I go to Pride week and I support LGBT causes. And I never leave home anyway, and will probably be alone the rest of my life, but I feel at peace with myself, you know? Just simply KNOWING that I’m NOT broken is a fucking weight off my shoulders.

I know the running joke in the fandom is that “Sherlock Fandom Made Me Gay”, but honestly, there is a grain of truth in it. A lot of us just... don’t KNOW until we’re around other queer people. Which I wasn’t ever UNTIL I came here AND moved to a very liberal city. Everyone was very understanding and helpful, and in turn and in thanks, I was able to also help other lovelies who, like me, didn’t know and were scared.

So yeah, Lovely, for me it was a sense of “something’s different, but I’m not sure what”. And then a lot of research. I knew I wasn’t aromantic because I do desire and crave romance probably in the same way allosexual people crave sex... I wouldn’t know, I’ve never craved it, LOL.

Personally, I encourage everyone to just have a period of their lives where they learn about different sexualities and different types of romance. You always hear these stories about someone not knowing they were homoromantic until they had a roommate they fell in love with. One of my best friends found out he was trans in his mid-thirties... He just thought he was a tomboy who just... felt different.

It’s a different experience for everyone, Rory, and one that only you can discover on your own. Read up information, watch YouTubers, go down the wikipedia rabbit hole, and talk to other people in the various communities.

But let me tell you, Rory, remember this term: Split Attraction Model. Discovering this term helped me a lot on my ace journey. Remember Asexuality and Aromanticism are both very VERY wide spectrums and very VERY different things, and it’s going to take awhile to figure out where you belong. But once you do, I think you’ll be at peace. And it’s OKAY to not “settle” on a label. Please know that. Sexuality is fluid.

Good luck Lovely, and don’t hesitate to ask if you have any other questions. <3

#steph replies #asexuality #ace awareness week #about me #my life #chatting with lovelies #hey-im-rory

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monstersandmaw · 4 years

Text

Male werewolf x female reader (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

This is a patreon tier reward, and I hope you enjoy my take on their big, dad-bodded werewolf OC, Lowe. It's been up on Patreon on early release and is now up on Tumblr for you to enjoy.

Content: playful banter, fluff, the briefest flicker of angst, some dominant tendencies in Lowe (it's not D/s though, for anyone who's not into that), and a reader who gives as good as she gets. Wordcount: 2792

___

As you yanked the door to the campus cafe open with about twice as much force as it needed, you caught a glimpse of Lowe working behind the counter. Of course, there was a massive queue at this time of day; at the midpoint of the afternoon when people were thinking about either finishing up early or knuckling down for a caffeine-fuelled all-nighter.

Engrossed as he’d looked in his work before, he glanced up as if he’d sensed your presence, his warm eyes flicked briefly in your direction as the door opened, and he offered you a quick, fond, twitch of the lips before turning back to the masterpiece of latte art in his hands. Even at that distance, you felt your body relaxing a little more around him. In the time since he’d made some playfully snarky comment about your Pokémon shirt a few months ago - which had, in fact, led to a joint outing on campus playing Pokémon Go together - you and he had fallen into an easy friendship.

You tried not to snarl softly to yourself as the woman at the front of the queue, old enough to be a post-grad perhaps, leaned on the counter and flirted openly with him, but at the end of the day, what claim did you have to him anyway? Lowe was your friend, and as much as you’d like to think you might be the tall, long-haired guy’s type (he was certainly yours, with that ‘powerful-yet-soft-around-the-edges’ dad bod he had going on, and that self-assured confidence that tipped just pleasantly shy of being arrogance), you couldn’t really be sure. After all, you’d seen him getting pretty close with a guy friend of his, so for all you knew, he wasn’t even interested in women, but you’d never really discussed that. The most personal things had got so far was Bloodborne bosses and beloved DnD characters, which was also fine.

The queue slowly dwindled in front of you, and when you stepped up to the counter, Lowe turned from the machine on the far counter and plonked a large cup down before your lips had even opened to begin your order. His grin was positively wolfish, all teeth and glinting eyes.

You pouted and snapped, “And what if I wanted a chai latte with soy milk today?”

He raised one thick eyebrow as he popped the takeaway lid onto the cup with a distractingly big hand, and said flatly, “You hate soy milk. Drink up, grumpy-guts. You’ll feel better…”

You huffed, took the cup off the counter, slapped the cash down just hard enough to make him chuckle and twitch another smile - damn the bastard looked pleased with himself and double-damn, if he didn’t look extra-specially good wearing that expression - and he announced to his colleague that he was going on break.

He joined you outside, tugging out one of the heavy, metal chairs for you without a word before taking a seat on the other side of the table.

Lowe closed his eyes, tipping his head back a little to feel the chilly late-spring breeze on his face. He looked good as he relaxed like that, with his long, thick, nut-brown hair tied back off his face with a few fluffy bits escaping at the front, and his big arms folded across his chest and resting on the slight paunch he had at the waist. Something about the thick, almost russet-brown scruff on his jaw made you want to touch it. Instead, you sipped your drink and sighed.

“Good?” he asked without moving or opening his eyes.

“You know it is, you cocky little shit,” you laughed. Banter with him was always so easy, and you gave as good as you got. “Thanks, by the way. Wouldn’t want you to think I’m a complete brat…”

He snorted and cracked an eye to look at you. The sun caught in his golden-brown iris and glinted softly like polished amber, and it honestly stole your breath for a moment. “How’s the course going?” he asked instead of teasing you any more. “You were pretty stressed about that assignment last time we talked.”

You rolled your eyes and puffed the air out of your chest, swiftly following it with some inarticulate grunt of despair. “It would be going a lot better if my roommate wasn’t also being such an inconsiderate asshole,” you snarled. “Seriously, I don’t think I can take the smell of weed or the late nights any more.”

He frowned. “Can’t you talk to someone about it?”

“Have done. Not sure I’ll have a roommate for much longer though… Missing classes and being constantly stoned must equal tanking grades, right?”

Lowe nodded but didn’t say anything for a while, watching as a gnoll and her girlfriend strolled past, hand in hand. The gnoll nuzzled her nose against the human’s ear and elicited a squawk that made her giggle in return. Eventually he said, “You free this weekend?”

Cocking your head to one side, you shrugged. “Hand-in is on Friday afternoon, so… yeah? I mean, I had just planned to sleep all day… why?”

He looked uncharacteristically apprehensive and chewed on the inside of his cheek before answering. “I was going to head up into the woods for the weekend. Camping. Wondered if you wanted to come too?”

“Camping?”

“Yeah…” he said, looking like he was regretting mentioning it now. “But if you don’t want to, it’s fine. I mean… you’ve earned your rest, and camping under the stars isn’t for everyone. Don’t feel like you have -”

“Shut up for a second, will you?” you laughed, and he drew up short and blinked, staring at you before laughing fondly. “I’ve actually never been camping. I’d love to go, as long as you don’t make me go for a ten mile hike as well…”

“Would I treat you like that?” he crooned and you rolled your eyes again and muttered something which you didn’t think he’d catch. Somehow, however, he did, and he barked a loud laugh, startling a cervitaur walking past with his grocery shopping in each hand. As Lowe turned to look at the cervitaur he’d surprised, you watched his eyes flare gold, almost unnaturally so. Perhaps it was just a trick of the sunlight at this angle. When he looked back at you, you missed what he said, staring at his eyes, which were now back to their normal, warm brown.

He murmured your name, sounding a little concerned. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean it. You’re not a brat… not really…”

“Shut up,” you retorted, your tone carrying no venom. “And you know full well know I can be.”

That Thursday afternoon, your roommate moved out, finally expelled for drug use and selling to other students, and you fumigated the room as best you could, relieved at last. The second after you’d finished deep-cleaning everything, you texted Lowe and said, ‘So… I’m down a roommate now.’

‘You need me to help hide the body?’ he sent back immediately and you burst out laughing.

‘I love you, but no. It was expulsion rather than murder. I was kind of hoping you might want to move in instead?’ you sent, your heart in your mouth. He’d mentioned he was looking for a place closer to campus, and this could be perfect for him. If he was willing to have you as his roommate, of course.

‘Definitely interested. Can I think about it and let you know this weekend?’

That wasn’t a complete rebuttal, you figured. ‘Of course.’

‘Cheers. I’ll pick you up at ten on Saturday.’

True to his word, Lowe didn’t take you on a ten mile route march. He drove you up to the start of a wide, easy looking trail that was apparently only three miles up to the campsite, along a winding, inviting, grassy path. Despite looking maybe a little towards the less fit end of the scale, Lowe was four strides ahead of you in a matter of seconds. Realising this, he slowed, and you nudged him with your elbow.

“Thanks,” you said and he gave you one of his soft, secret smiles that you didn’t see very often.

He wasn’t particularly talkative as you made your way up the path, but the silence between you was easy, relaxing even.

“You’re such a cliche, you know that?” you laughed a little while later as you paused on a rock for a drink and to adjust the laces of your shoe.

Lowe scowled. “How?”

You stared pointedly at the penknife in his hand and the stick he’d picked up and had idly begun to whittle into a howling wolf in his big, strong hands, almost as if he’d not even realised he was doing it. Again, he surprised you by just shrugging a shoulder and turning back to it while you enjoyed the scene. He seemed a bit distracted somehow. When you moved on, he stashed it in his pocket.

Lowe carried literally everything, stowing your water bottle for the way up in the side pocket of his backpack, and even a two-person tent, food supplies for that evening and breakfast, and more water than you probably drank over the course of three days, and yet he still managed to arrive at the campsite as if he’d just strolled the length of one city block.

He impressed you again by lighting a fire and cooking a veritable feast for you both on a little makeshift grill, and he looked more than pleased with himself when you complimented him. “Don’t let it go to your big fat head,” you snickered and he growled playfully at you.

Quite literally growled.

The moment he’d done it, he went still, eyes wide, and even looked a little sick. “Shit,” he hissed.

“What?”

“I…” then his huge shoulders slumped despondently and he let out a long breath. “I guess now’s as good a time as any to tell you. I mean, I’ve been meaning to tell you for… well, since we kind of became friends, really. But it never seemed… convenient…”

“Convenient to tell me what?”

He shuffled a bit and poked at the embers of the fire. Your stomach felt uneasy, and it had nothing to do with the inordinate amount of amazing food you’d just finished. “I…” he began, and then whispered, “Fuck it.” He looked you in the eye and said, “I’m not human. I’m a werewolf.”

You blinked. It didn’t totally surprise you, if you were honest. “Well, that… certainly makes one or two things add up…”

“You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad?”

He turned his golden eyes away from you and poked a bit more at the smoldering, grey wood, making it crumble to fragile ashes. He did look a bit easier now though. “I figured… maybe you wouldn’t… that if you knew that I’m not human, you might not want me as your roommate anymore… It was stupid though, I know.”

“Lowe,” you said, more gently this time, reaching for his bare forearm where he’d cuffed his tartan sleeve up to his elbow. His skin was warm and his muscles tensed, hard as the earth beneath you as he waited for whatever you were going to say next. “You’ve become probably my best friend… There’s no one I’d rather be roommates with than you. Besides, who else is going to tolerate your Soulsborne marathons and hipster lumberjack wardrobe?”

A long, low growl emanated from him but it dissolved into laughter when he saw your expression and he shook his head. “I can’t believe I was so chicken about you knowing…”

“I can’t believe you looked like you pissed yourself a minute ago!”

His eyes flashed openly gold now and he huffed, “I did not…”

“You totally did. Anyway, I’m glad you told me. But you know that means I’m going to want to know all the details.”

“I think I’ll save that for another day,” he said as he reached for the s’mores beside him.

‘Another’ day turned out to be a week after you’d helped him move all his boxes into your room. He was lying on his back on his bed, his arms folded up behind his head, one knee bent, the other leg stretched out, foot dangling off the end of the mattress. You glanced across the room at him from where you had your laptop on your knees and your headphones on, working on the last tweaks of the next assignment due. He looked tense, even though he wasn’t really doing anything in particular.

Removing your headphones, you murmured, “Lowe? Everything alright?”

“Mmm,” he half growled. A moment later he heaved out a huge sigh and said, “No. Full moon’s tomorrow night. I always get kind of… cranky around now.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

Whatever you’d thought he’d say, you hadn’t expected the long, low moan that escaped him. It was not an innocent noise. Breathing through his mouth in soft, quiet pants, he didn’t look at you, but you sensed that his eyes were glowing.

“Lowe?”

“No,” he said. “Not unless you want to take whatever this is between us somewhere else…”

You bit your lip. “You mean…?”

“It would probably take the edge off if we slept together, yes,” he said bluntly. “But if you don’t want that, then I’m hardly going to push…”

“I like it when you’re pushy,” you countered, setting your laptop aside and staring him in the eye.

His pupils blew wide and he raised his nose. “Fuck,” he cursed. “Oh… fuck, you’re beautiful.”

With a smile, you crossed the room to him as he sat up, watching your every move with unwavering, lupine focus. “Let me help you out, big guy,” you crooned playfully and he twitched his lip in a possessive snarl, eyes golden and locked on the curve of your neck.

“Last chance,” he said. “I don’t want you regretting crossing this line with me.”

“You’ve got super-human senses, Lowe,” you said, playing with the hem of your shirt. His gaze darted instantly to the movement, transfixed by the glimpse of skin beneath your top. “You must know how I feel about you by now…”

“Yes, but lusting after someone and doing something about it is different when they’re your friend… I don’t want you to feel like I’m putting pressure on you…”

In answer, you reached out and trailed your fingertips up his neck, scratching him a little bit and making him growl again, and as you finished with a single finger drawing a line up his throat and under his chin, he shivered, as if barely holding himself back. “Why don’t you put just the right amount pressure on me… here?” you said, licking your lips as you climbed into his lap, straddling his thick thighs and running your palms over the softness of his stomach.

His jaw was soft, mouth open as he panted openly, and beneath you as you ground your hips to emphasise your question, you felt his hard cock.

A heartbeat later, he’d clamped his hands under your thighs and stood up. Lowe dropped you onto the bed with the perfect mix of recklessness and carefulness and lunged for you. He peppered and mouthed kisses down your neck, tugging at your skin with his canines, biting at your earlobe, his short beard burning and scratching your skin deliciously, and all the while he ground his cock against your thigh through his jeans.

It clearly wasn’t nearly enough, and it wasn’t long before you were both naked on his bed, and he had his mouth on you, his hands spreading your legs wide as he used the strength in his arms that his softer body belied. “Don’t come yet,” he rasped between strokes of his tongue. “Not til I say…”

“Oh,” you gasped, fighting the rising wave of heat that swept up your body, tingling under your skin, at that command. You tried, you really did, but in a mere few strokes of his tongue, you came with a cry against the heat of his mouth, bucking while he held you down and pulled you against his mouth to press his tongue tight against your throbbing clit.

When he pulled back, looking extremely smug about himself and his talents, you saw that his canines had lengthened and his features had become a little less… human.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he said, clearly still enjoying the taste of you on his lips.

“Will you hurry up and fuck me?” you pouted, and he snarled.

“Such a brat,” he laughed, but he didn’t waste any time either.

—

I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

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#werewolf #male werewolf #werewolf x reader #exophilia #monster boyfriend #male werewolf x female reader

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0606-hyuck · 3 years

Text

Word Count: 1.7K

"Hey!" You greeted as Jisung slowly approached the bench you were resting on with Saja's head in your lap.

"Hi," smiled Jisung. He was nervous, and he knew you probably knew he was nervous too, but he tried his best to act friendly and confident. It was a good thing you hadn't witnessed the slight mental breakdown he'd had before leaving his apartment. It had taken Renjun, Jeno, and Jaemin giving him a pep-talk to boost his confidence while Chenle simply laughed before he felt calm enough to come down and meet you.

"So, I hear you're a bit of a dog connoisseur," you grinned, standing from the bench and leading Saja over to where Jisung was standing.

"I definitely wouldn't say that," Jisung spluttered, mentally cursing Jaemin and Chenle. He bent down and smoothed down the fur between Saja's ears, causing your dog to inch closer to him.

"Aw, no need to be humble," you laughed, mistaking Jisung's reservation as modesty. "As you can see, I'm not made of muscle." Jisung's gaze followed your hand as it trailed down your form. He found himself staring for a few seconds too long, and he turned red with embarrassment when he realised he had just - unintentionally - checked you out.

Unaware of Jisung's mental distress, you continued, "since I'm not super strong, and Saja is quite big for his age and breed, he thinks it's fun to drag me along when we go out walking."

You grabbed your dog's lead and walked him a few paces away from Jisung and turned back around. "I'll demonstrate." You clicked your tongue and Saja started walking forward, initially matching your pace but soon he was tugging on the leash and pulling you along eagerly. You walked past Jisung and stopped a few metres away before facing your neighbour again. "You see what I mean?"

Jisung hummed in response. He could understand why you wouldn't want to be pulled along by your dog, especially in a city full of yappy smaller dogs that could excite Saja. Still feeling uncomfortable that his roommates had lied to you, but feeling too awkward to tell you the truth, Jisung's brain was working overtime to try and work out how he could help you.

"Could I try walk him?"

You handed the leash to Jisung and he did what you had done previously, and walked Saja up and down the pavement a couple of times, finding that he also had the same problem with your dog that you did.

"Well I guess he likes to pull no matter who is walking him," Jisung concluded, and although he was sure you had already reached the same conclusion, he couldn't help but smile slightly as you nodded sagely at his words.

"So how have you been trying to train him?"

"I've mostly been walking him back and forth along the path and pulling him up when he tugs, which has meant I'm stopping pretty much every step and not getting very far," you sighed.

As the cogs ticked away in Jisung's brain, an idea lightbulb went off in his head. "Why don't we try shortening his leash and walking a longer distance rather than stopping all the time?" Okay, admittedly it wasn't a bright lightbulb, but it was alight at least.

This suggestion seemed to make a lot of sense to you, and you eagerly agreed. Wrapping a section of Saja's leash around your wrist, he was now walking beside you rather than in front of you, and Jisung walked on your left side, closest to the road. What a gentleman, you thought.

After awhile, the silence that had fallen between you and Jisung became a little awkward. From the corner of your eye you noticed he was fidgeting with his fingers, and was constantly resting his hands in his pockets only to remove them a few moments later, and then repeat the process. Because Jisung was spending his precious time with you training your dog rather than doing whatever he wanted to do, you thought it was only right that you helped make him feel comfortable in your presence.

"So, you do dance," you stated, looking across at Jisung and offering him a sweet smile when your gazes met. "How long have you been doing that for?"

"Um, I've been dancing since I was really young," he replied. "Ever since I can remember I've enjoyed it."

"What kind of dance do you like the best?" Peering at his lanky limbs you snorted, "you don't exactly strike me as a ballerina."

Jisung chuckled at your comment, and you noticed his hands had remained by his sides and he wasn't fidgeting with them any more. "I actually have a video that my mum took when I was seven, maybe eight, and I took a contemporary dance class. So, not exactly ballet but they still had us jumping all over the place and swinging our arms around."

Jisung smiled and his eyes glazed over as he replayed the video in his head. You watched in amusement as he subtly spun his arms around him, and you found that you were no longer even focused on training Saja to walk beside you anymore, and neither was Jisung.

"Contemporary dance wasn't for me, I enjoy hip-hop and popping and locking more. That's the kind of stuff I teach the kids." Jisung didn't seem to notice as the three of you approached the riverside, meaning you had walked quite a few blocks from your house already.

"Actually, you mentioned that I don't look like a ballet dancer, but that's the really cool thing about dancing. You don't need to have a certain body type to be good at dancing. Obviously there's exceptions but for the most part, there's no rules to dance. Dance is just expressing emotions through your body, and so anyone who has a body can dance."

You listened intently as Jisung told a story about a child from his dance class who was told she wouldn't be good at hip hop because she was "too big" and so Jisung had to help her gain the confidence to put herself out there and she realised she really enjoyed dance, and was damn good at it too. He told stories of his other students too, ones about his favourite moments teaching and ones that he found challenging but was able to overcome, and when you checked your watch you realised he had been talking for a good half hour, and you'd wandered pretty far from your apartment.

"Oh my god, I've talked too much," Jisung gasped, halting his step. You glimpsed a horrified look on his face before he placed a hand over his mouth and mumbled, "I was supposed to train your dog and instead I just talked the whole time."

Stopping, you giggled quietly before approaching your neighbour. Placing a warm hand on his wrist, you stated, "honestly Jisung, don't worry about it."

"I didn't even ask you anything about yourself," Jisung mumbled, although his sight was firmly locked on the place where your hand touched his arm.

Blushing slightly at his fixation with your touch, you swiftly removed your hand. "Seriously, I don't mind that you talked the whole time. It was really nice to hear you talk about something you're passionate about." Gulping slightly, you added, "plus, when you were talking about the kids you teach, you had this really fond look in your eye and you started getting excited and smiling heaps. It was...cute."

For the first time since you'd stopped, Jisung looked up and made eye contact with you, his eyes as wide as dinner plates. You could almost picture the steam coming out of his ears as his brain malfunctioned trying to process your words. You'd just told your extremely cute neighbour that you found him extremely cute. Uh oh.

Before Jisung could stutter out a reply, you saved him from his misery by turning your focus to the shiba inu between you. Saja looked up at you amusedly and you imagined that if he was a human he would be shouting at you, 'the yearning! Just kiss the poor boy already!!'

"So, um, I guess we should head back now, Saja is probably really thirsty."

"Yeah, that, uh, sounds good."

With that, you and Jisung headed back to your apartment in a painful silence. Oh lord, why did I call him cute! I mean, he is, but now everything is awkward! You thought.

Meanwhile, Jisung was already rehearsing what he'd say to his four friends. Surely they would know what Y/N calling him cute meant. They understood girls better than he did. She called me cute, Jisung thought. Does this mean I'm supposed to kiss her now? No, you dummy! Don't call me a dummy! I'm just panicking because a girl has never called me cute before and I don't know what I'm supposed to do! He mentally argued with himself.

After a painfully long time, you finally ended up in the elevator on the way to the sixth floor. For the first time since you'd started heading back, you decided to speak. "Thanks for helping me with Saja before."

"Oh, I don't think I really did anything," Jisung laughed nervously, avoiding eye contact. A few seconds passed, and he steeled himself to ask what he had wanted to ask since you'd called him cute. "Um, I was wondering if I could maybe have your number?"

When you accidentally raised a quizzical eyebrow at Jisung's bold words, he rushed to add, "only so you can text me when you're walking Saja, and I can come down and try to train him again!"

"No no, that sounds like a good idea. Here," you said, pulling out your phone and swapping it with Jisung. When he registered that you'd swapped numbers with him, for the first time in a while he seemed to finally relax. The elevator dinged on your floor and it was a short walk back to your respective apartments.

"Hey, thanks again Jisung," you smiled, gripping the handle of your door but not twisting it. "I really meant what I said before, it was cool getting to know you better."

"Oh yeah, me too," Jisung replied genuinely. "It was...peaceful."

He watched you smile once last time before you entered your house and closed the door behind you. Sighing loudly, he rested his head against his own door with a loud thud before walking into his home, where he knew his roommates would be eagerly awaiting a minute by minute breakdown of what happened.

Puppy Love [part seven]

Description: When you move into a new apartment, you’re pleasantly surprised to find out your neighbours are all attractive. Really attractive. You find yourself developing a crush on one of your said neighbours when he offers to help you train your dog, Saja, but you quickly realise he has absolutely no idea what he’s doing...

Taglist: @whosyourmama @chubbsdabunny @peachhyun @jising-jisang-jisung @bangpink123

#nct #nct dream #nct2020 #nct social media au #nct dream social media #nct dream au #nct jisung #jisung nct #jisung #park jisung #jisung imagine #jisung scenario #jisung x reader #renjun #jeno #chenle #jaemin

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khuns · 4 years

Text

who else is there to love but you; a khunbaam au

He tastes like Baam has always thought of and more, lips slotting into Baam’s the way he has slotted himself into the space between Baam’s heartbeats, and Baam isn’t sure if he ever wants Khun to pull away.

“Come on, Baam, it’s our graduation. It’s the last time any of us are gonna have time to travel before we settle into jobs and fall victim to the monotony of everyday li-“

A snort crackles through the speaker, and Hatz’s voice rings clear, “Speak for yourself, Isu. Some of us still can’t find jobs-“

A jostle over the phone, then: “-anyway, as I was saying, it’s just one last hurrah before we officially start adulting. Please just say yes, Baam, nearly everyone else has agreed-“

Baam sighs and sets down his pencil. It’s literally the week of finals; every time he rubs his eyes he sees syntax trees tattooed on the inside of his eyelids. How does Isu expect him to make big decisions when his entire brain is clouded with theta roles?

He opens his mouth, about to ask Isu to please just ask him when he gets back to their dorm room because his brain really can’t handle thinking about budgeting and accommodations, but Isu’s sly voice beats him to the punch. “Khun’s coming.”

Baam lets his head drop into his hands and groans.

Damn Shibisu.

The first time Baam meets Khun, Baam is splayed out on his stomach on Hatz’s kitchen floor, honey dripping from his hair.

The laughter on his tongue dies out; Isu stops flinging flour at where Hatz is crouched, taking cover.

Baam watches in dismay as the most beautiful man he’s ever seen in his life stands at Hatz’s doorway, mouth pressed into a thin line and eyes as hard as flint. The man’s fingers are still curled around the door handle as he surveys the mess before a clipped, “Hatz.”

He feels Hatz tensing up from where he’s knelt beside Baam, hands braced against the fine dusting of flour on the floor.

“I’ll make sure the kitchen is spotless,” Hatz bites out, tone frosty.

Baam’s eyes meet the man’s through a slow tangle of honey, and he can’t help the shiver that runs down his spine. Even backlit and haloed in the artificial hallway light, he reminds Baam of someone royal, hair pulled away from cheekbones high and regal and bangs barely covering eyes cool as glass.

An eternity stretches before the man breaks eye contact with him and makes out a curt nod, “Make sure you do.”

And then he’s gone, door locking behind him with a neat click.

Isu is the first to break the silence- “Fuck, Hatz, when you called to tell me your new roommate was an ass you didn’t say he was a beautiful one-“

“Shut the fuck up, he’s a royal pain in the ass, that’s why I called you to come over- “

“His eyes, Hatz, did you see them-“

“I hardly feel the need to look into the eyes of someone who pisses me off from day one-“

“You ask me to come over and make cookies for you, but you just neglect to mention how beautiful-“

“You saw for yourself, he’s so fucking pretentious - look, Isu, if you’ve done quite enough salivating over my arse of a roommate, do you mind helping your poor roommate up?”

Isu squeaks and slides through the flour to Baam’s side, “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Baam says. “Yeah, no, I’m alright.”

As Isu helps Baam pick himself off the floor and sends him into the bathroom to rinse out his hair, all Baam can think about is the man’s cool blue eyes and the way the image keeps sending his heart back up his throat.

It’s ten in the morning after his last final and Baam barely has time to stuff his duffel in the trunk when Rak calls shotgun.

It sets off a squabble between Hatz and Isu about who should drive and devolves into an argument over whether Rak can navigate (he cannot) and when Isu will even let anyone else drive his precious car (never).

There is a soft huff of amusement from where Khun is leaning on the side of the car, hands fiddling through what looks like a GPS, and Khun looks up at Baam, grinning. “We’ll never set off at this rate.”

“We’ll have to spend the first night back in our dorms and leave tomorrow instead,” Baam returns, biting back a smile. Khun laughs at that, his eyes sparkling through his bangs and curved into crescent moons, and Baam has to tamp down a familiar flare in his chest.

Keep it under control, he tells himself. It’s just a weeklong road trip, after which Khun will move somewhere in the big city for a job at his father’s company and Baam will move back home, despairing over what little job prospects a linguistics major brings. Useless crushes are just that, useless.

He watches as Khun pushes off from the side of the car and tosses the GPS to Isu. “Keyed in a place for lunch,” Khun grins as Isu squawks and fumbles to catch it, “Now you won’t need either of those two idiots up front.”

Hatz splutters indignantly and the rest of them just laugh, scrambling to get into the car so they can finally, finally get on their way and maybe get a decent cup of coffee.

(Rak, much to his disgruntlement, is relegated to the backseat, sandwiched between Khun and Baam.)

The second time Baam meets Khun, Baam neither is on the floor nor has any sticky substance in his hair (thankfully).

He knocks on Hatz’s door, ready to deliver Hatz’s notebook from where Hatz left it in Baam and Isu’s dorm room during an earlier study session.

(A ‘study session’, Baam has learnt, is just an excuse for Isu to bother his best friend into coming over to their room so they can talk about everything other than homework. Not that Baam minds, of course - conversations between Hatz and Isu flow like water, stories from their shared childhood spilling out as they try their best to embarrass each other in front of Baam.)

There’s a click as the door unlocks and Baam’s mouth opens, ready to remind Hatz that even though they only live just a few floors above him, it’s best not to leave his Physics notes behind ever again for Isu to doodle senselessly on, but when the door swings open, it’s Blue Eyes.

Oh.

“Looking for Hatz?” The man prompts, after a beat of silence. “He’s in the shower.”

Baam flushes and makes the conscious effort to shut his jaw. He holds Hatz’s notes out to Blue Eyes, “Hatz left this in my room earlier, could I leave this with you please?”

Blue Eyes raises an eyebrow at the dick drawn in Sharpie on Hatz’s notebook cover. He looks back up at Baam.

“It wasn’t me,” Baam blurts, suddenly anxious to inform Blue Eyes that no, he wasn’t the one childish enough to draw dicks onto other people’s notes. “My roommate and Hatz, they’re pretty close, I guess it’s their thing-“

He’s not sure why words are just tumbling out of his mouth, but Blue Eyes just snorts, corner of his mouth turning up in amusement. He takes the notebook from Baam and nods, “I’ll leave it on his desk.”

“Thank you...” Baam trails off, because for the life of him he absolutely cannot remember what Hatz has called his roommate other than ‘The Royal Ass’ and ‘That Fucking Asshole’. Neither of which, Baam is sure, Blue Eyes would like to be called.

“Thank you,” he manages, and turns to hightail it out of there before he embarrasses himself for the third time in a night.

“Hold on,” Blue Eyes says, and he waits until Baam fully turns back around to meet his gaze. “Who should I say left this for him?”

“I’m Baam.” Baam pauses, then tacks on, “From the twenty-fifth floor.”

“Alright, Baam-from-the-twenty-fifth-floor,” Blue Eyes says, and grins. “I’m Khun.”

Khun, Baam repeats all the way back up to his room, Khun. He tucks the name into the pocket of his cheek the way a child savours hard candy - Khun. Khun, Khun, Khun.

(Baam makes it all the way to the lift lobby before he realises that Khun has in fact cracked a dad joke, and when he tells Isu this Isu can’t seem to stop cackling.)

They stop for lunch at a cute diner at the edge of the city. The lights are dim and the booth seats are cracked, stuffing leaking out from where legs have over the years worn the leather down, but the food is warm and the coffee is strong and that’s all that matters.

“More coffee?” The sole waiter nudges Isu’s coffee cup with the jug.

Isu nods. Might as well, if he’s going to be driving for the rest of the day.

He takes a sip and leans back. Rak and Khun are arguing over routes, phones opened to Google Maps and fingers jabbing at the highways. Baam is listening intently to the road talk, slowly pulling the pickles out from his sandwich and setting them in a pile on the edge of his plate, ready for Khun to pick at later.

Isu smiles softly to himself as Rak leans over him to holler at Hatz. He’s glad they cobbled together this trip - it seems the perfect way to end four years of living together before they disperse and are only able to meet on weekends, or worse, every couple of months.

He’ll miss them, of course - if there’s one thing the university did right, it was their random roommate pairings freshman year. Isu’s heard horror stories of roommates going out partying and coming back to puke on rugs, but Baam clicked with him on all sorts of levels, from cleanliness to sleep schedules to taste in films, and it was only natural they applied to continue living together all four years.

And Hatz, despite his deep loathing of Khun during their first month rooming together, quickly warmed up to him too; they were both quiet and studious, were complete night owls and were quite alright with Isu coming to blabber their ears off every once in a while.

(Hatz also strenuously denies this, but after The Physics Lab Incident halfway through the first semester freshman year, Isu is pretty sure Hatz would follow Khun to the ends of the earth and back. And Hatz’s loyalty is hard-earned; he would know.)

Rak was a lucky happenstance in their second year, a constantly sexiled sophomore from across the hallway who more often than not ended up sleeping on their couch. When Isu found out Rak could make a mean beef stew, well? Isu adopted him into their little family straight away.

“What do you guys think?” Khun turns to his left, spearing a pickle off of Baam’s plate. Baam hums his approval and Isu shrugs. He hasn’t really been listening, but he trusts that Khun’s come up with a good route. If anything was weird, Rak and Baam would have pointed it out anyway.

“Doesn’t matter to me where we go,” Hatz says around a full mouth of fries, “As long as we make it to the hotel tonight.”

“Alright then,” Isu says, brushing crumbs off his shirt, “Where has the Great Rak and Khun planned to bring us next?”

“The Museum of Turtles.”

Rak is grinning so broadly Isu can’t help himself - he laughs.

The third time Baam meets Khun, it’s for dinner with Hatz and Isu.

They’re crowded around a table heavy with pizza Hatz must have grabbed on the way back from class. It’s somewhat towards the middle of their first semester - Khun and Hatz must be getting pretty close if Hatz has invited him to eat with them. So much for Hatz’s obstinate declaration that he’d never be friends with someone “that stuck-up”.

“-completely winded because as I said, I fell on my fucking back, and the crazy girl goes, “Oh my god, you’re looking up my skirt!” Like, I’m the one you knocked over literally half a second ago and you’re accusing me of looking at your ugly ass?! How fucking ridiculous is that?” Hatz waves his slice of pizza in the air, pepperoni somehow clinging to the cheese by sheer force of will.

Baam winces in sympathy. He’s not sure what he would have done in Hatz’s place. Maybe die.

“Then Khun - bless Khun - leans over from his bench and says- oh man, I think you better tell this part-“

Khun huffs and wipes his mouth. He sets his half-eaten slice back down, eyes sparkling with mirth, and continues, “So I’m quietly working on this stupid Physics lab sheet when I hear this idiot fall flat on his ass behind me and when I turn around to laugh at him-“

There’s something that resembles a protest from Hatz but it’s covered by Isu’s guffaw.

“-his lab partner looks like she’s about to scream bloody murder to the whole class so I lean over and - see, ordinarily I’d just laugh at Hatz and turn back but this was the girl who looks down on Hatz because she saw that his textbook was second-hand, and more importantly, she insulted my earrings once-“

“Your earrings! How dare she!” Isu is cackling even louder.

“Right?” Khun smirks, and Baam thinks his heart skips a beat, “Anyway, I lean over and I go, “Oh, sweetheart, you’ve fallen again,” and Hatz is on the floor looking at me like I’m some kind of fool instead of his damn roommate trying to get him out of trouble, so I have to tack on, “Sorry, my boyfriend is such a klutz, he’s always bumping into things. And don’t worry about him looking anywhere at you, he’s not interested.” The look on both their faces, priceless-“

“Boyfriend!” Isu howls, pounding the table, “Straight-as-an-arrow Hatz! Boyfriend!”

Hatz grins, “Whatever, you idiot, you missed the best part - then Khun says to her, “Not that there’s much to see anyway!” Oh man, her face must have been some seven shades of purple-” This sets all of them off and as their laughter dies down Baam is pretty sure if he laughs anymore his cheeks might just split in half.

But through his bangs he sees Khun looking, looking at him, and he instantly flushes. He reaches for another slice of pizza, just for his hands to have something to do, but he brushes against something cool and sees Khun retracting his own hand. Khun gestures for him to go ahead, eyes fixed on him.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, then as an afterthought, “Thanks.”

Khun’s smile is absolutely blinding.

Baam hums happily, flicking through photos from the museum exhibit. They were nearly kicked out for being completely obnoxious, yes, but he got the absolute best photos and he knows Isu has more.

“We’re nearly there,” Rak says from where he’s finally wrangled shotgun. Sure enough, Isu turns into the gravel driveway of a small hotel.

Hatz is the first to tumble out of the car, stretching and nearly knocking Baam in the face. It’s been quite a ride from the museum to the hotel, including a boisterous karaoke session, and Baam can’t wait to check in and dump their stuff so they can grab dinner.

“Bad news, y’all,” Isu says, not even ten minutes later. “They have two rooms, but they’re all big beds instead of those individual ones. Hatz and I can take one - we shared beds during sleepovers - but two of y’all have to take a bed and someone has to take the cot.”

Rak, of course, lays claim on the cot instantly. “I kick in my sleep,” he points out, and everyone groans. He does.

Baam nods, but realises with a sinking feeling-

“That leaves Baam with Khun, then,” Isu says, satisfied. He shoots Baam a barely-veiled triumphant look as he hands him a key card and Baam can’t help but flush. This is a terrible, terrible idea, and Isu is a terrible, terrible friend.

He nearly groans in despair when they finally head to the rooms - even with the bed taking up most of the space, it looks barely big enough for two.

Khun clears his throat.

“I can take the floor,” Baam blurts. He doesn’t want to make Khun uncomfortable. With his luck, there’d be some sort of accident in the night and... he’d rather just take the floor and nap in the car tomorrow.

Khun glances sharply at him. “Don’t be silly, you’re going to ache all over tomorrow. We’ll just, you know, set boundaries.”

Baam thinks about the photo Isu once took of him starfishing all over his own bed and clinging to his pillow like a lifeline. Boundaries. “Um,” he says. “Um.”

“Fantastic.” Khun says, already dropping his duffel on one side of the bed.

Fantastic.

Khun eventually loses track of the number of times he meets Baam. It seems like he’s always there whenever Isu comes downstairs to go bother Hatz, or whenever Hatz pulls them all outside for dinner.

(Not that Khun minds, of course - Baam is... interesting. Khun refuses to explore why.)

He ends up seeing Baam outside of the dorm too, sometimes waving to each other across the street between classes. It’s not until Hatz pulls all their schedules together to find a time to go cake-shopping for Isu’s birthday that Khun realises they share a lunch time most days.

Baam volunteers to get the cake the day before Isu’s birthday, since Hatz has classes until late. Which doesn’t quite make sense to Khun, since they agreed on hiding the cake from Isu in Hatz’s and Khun’s room anyway, so he makes an executive decision to join him.

He leans against the wall, picking at his nails, until he hears shuffling from inside the classroom. A few minutes later, Baam emerges from his Phonology class, scarf tucked messily around his neck.

He raises his hand in a half-wave, and waits for Baam to make his way over.

“Heard from Hatz you’re going to pick Isu’s cake out and thought I’d come with,” Khun says in lieu of greeting, and Baam beams at him.

“Great! We can put it in your fridge right after.”

“Exactly why I came,” Khun returns easily, but it seems like the wrong thing to say - the light in Baam’s eyes shutters a little, but before Khun can think about what he said, Baam’s hitched his backpack a little higher and takes the lead out of the linguistics building, waving goodbye at the security guard.

Huh.

He scrambles to catch up, long legs bringing him back up to speed with Baam easily. “I’m thinking chocolate?”

“Isu only ever eats chocolate cake,” Baam informs him, and flashes him a smile. “The only time I ever get to eat a full slice is when I get strawberry or some other fruit flavour.”

“Strawberry? Good taste,” Khun offers, and Baam’s beam returns.

If Khun waits by the exit of Baam’s phonology class the next week just to see that beam again, well, that’s nobody’s business but his own.

Time melts into months, and Khun and Baam’s weekly lunches melt into nearly daily lunches.

Sometimes Khun stops by the linguistics building to wait for Baam to end class; sometimes Baam finds himself waiting outside their agreed-upon dining hall before Khun shows up, waving goodbye to one friend or another.

Khun’s relatively popular, Baam thinks, until Khun corrects him one day with a, “No, it’s just that business majors have to network a lot. I expect we’ll either end up being employed by each other or buying up each other’s businesses ten years down the road.” He laughs at the mildly terrified look on Baam’s face.

Baam tells Khun about the calculus class he’s been forced to take for his math requirement, and Khun gripes about having to take a Physics class to fulfill his science requirements even though he’s a business major. Conversation flows easier than Baam expects, and the more he talks to Khun the smoother it flows.

He learns about how Khun is a business major because he’s expected to take over the family business. He learns about how Khun is interested in a Computer Science minor because he’s convinced the future of the world lies in tech, and Khun learns how Baam might be taking a Psychology minor because he just wants to learn more about the people around him.

Baam learns how Khun talks with his hands, long fingers swirling and jabbing as he maunders around his point. He learns how Khun’s laughs runs from derisive chuckles to laughter as bright as moonlight on icicles. He learns how Khun would rather carry around a hair tie than have to go to the barber’s every two months, and Khun learns, after an incident where his hair tie snaps and he can’t lean forward without getting hair in his soup, that Baam has taken to carrying a spare one around for him.

Baam learns how Khun takes his iced coffee with milk but no sugar, and Khun learns about how Baam’s favourite boba order is lychee green tea. Baam learns about the way Khun doesn’t really believe in dating for fun, not since he watched his sister run away from home with a boy and come back, badly bruised and begging to be loved again as though her family would have ever given up on her the same way that boy did. And Khun learns Baam is a hopeless romantic, and laughs at the way Baam flushes while admitting he believes in love at first sight.

They talk and talk, and as November melts away and Khun introduces Baam to someone as his best friend, Baam grins and feels as though he’s known Khun all his life.

(“It seems as though,” Isu remarks to Hatz one day, “instead of Khun-and-Hatz and Isu-and-Baam, we’ve become Isu-and-Hatz and Khun-and-Baam.”

Hatz throws a pen at his head. “We’ve always been Hatz-and-Isu, you fool. Ever since I saved you on the playground-“

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you swapped the order of our names, you bitch!“)

They’re settling in for the night, Hatz and Isu on the bed and Rak on the fold-out cot.

Rak is tapping away on his phone, setting his multitude of alarms for the next morning, but Hatz doesn’t bother. He’s sure Isu will shake him awake somehow.

He wrestles a good amount of blanket away from Isu’s octopus grasp, and gets ready to close his eyes when Isu suddenly says, “We really need an intervention.”

Hatz frowns. Did he take too much blanket?

“About Khun and Baam.”

Oh. Isu kicks all the covers off in his sleep anyway.

“Khun prides himself on how perceptive he is,” Isu is saying, “But it’s really stupid how he hasn’t cottoned on about Baam.”

Rak bursts out laughing. “We’ve has this conversation before, yes.”

“It’s so slow burn it feels like one of those frog-in-hot-water kind of stories, you know? One of them makes a move, but the other thinks it’s just bros being bros, one of them slips up but the other blames it on fucking Mercury in retrograde or whatever-“

Hatz snorts, “Pretty sure neither of them believe in astrology-“

“Point is, they practically orbit around each other and everyone, everyone, sees that but them. I mean, have you seen the way Baam picks food he doesn’t like off of his meals and Khun just straight up swipes it off of his plate, no questions? Who does that? Every time I swipe food from Rak he threatens to kill me-“

“It’s because you swipe the food I like, you stupid turtle-“

“Anyway, I pointed it out to Baam once and you know what he said? You know what he said?” Isu rubs his hand across his face. “He blinked and said he didn’t even notice! He doesn’t even remember when they started doing it! Khun does the exact same thing and you know how he hates people touching his food! I tried picking carrots off of Khun’s plate last month because I know he always sets his carrots aside and he fucking hit me so hard with his fork I bruised!”

Hatz hears the slight whine in Isu’s voice and finds himself suddenly unable to hold bubbles of laughter in. It’s ridiculous, it really is, four years of Khun being the absolute softest for Baam and Baam not noticing, and he hears Rak’s low rumble of laughter from Isu’s other side.

“The worst thing,” Isu says over their laughter, “is that you know Khun’s the type of person to not do anything if it might put his friendships in danger. Bet you he thinks Baam doesn’t like him like that.” That sobers them up pretty quickly.

“And you know what the absolute kicker is?” Isu’s voice is quieter now, as Hatz’s and Rak’s laughter die down. “Baam won’t do anything about it because - and I know this for a fact - the fool thinks the same.”

Rak groans and rolls over. “We really need to do something before everyone moves home, huh.”

“Damn right we do.”

(They don’t manage to figure out any sort of concrete plan before Rak drops asleep, but Hatz and Isu agree in the vaguest sort of way that Something Must Be Done, Even If We Don’t Know What.)

When their very first set of finals are over, Isu insists on dragging everyone out for drinks.

They find themselves in a small, dimly-lit pub a short walk away from their dorm, teeming with college students temporarily freed from the shackles and chains of higher education. It’s loud and it feels like there are too many people than there should be on a snowy weekday night, but Isu snags them a table and leaves them there to guard it while he goes to grab their first round.

Khun leans across the table, “How were your finals?”

“Glad they’re over,” Hatz says, unwinding his scarf. “I never want to see a physics formula again. How were yours?”

Khun shrugs. “Same about that physics requirement, I suppose. But we’re taking statistics together next semester, right?”

Baam looks up. “Which professor? I’m taking statistics too.” He’d like to take a class with friends, he thinks, and a small flame blooms in his chest at the thought. Friends.

Cheesy as it is, he’s glad he’s come out of his freshman semester with a group of friends to call his own.

“-Yoo, I think,” Hatz is saying, “The Monday and Wednesday morning one.”

“Neat,” Baam grins. “The three of us can study together then?”

“I leave to get drinks and you’re already plotting to take a class without me?” Isu plops a tray down on their table, sounding more amused than affronted.

“You’re the engineering major,” Hatz points out, but Isu waves him away.

“Enough school talk,” Isu says, and raises an eyebrow. “Let’s talk about more fun things.”

Isu’s idea of fun things, apparently, includes a list of get-to-know-you questions, and he grills each and every one of them as if he’s about to have a final on the details of his friends’ lives.

“-past relationships in three words, go.”

Hatz winces, “She… wanted… fencer?“ Isu groans at Hatz’s poor summary, then gestures for Baam.

“Um,” Baam says. “She… wanted better.” Not technically true, he thinks, but that’s as clean as he can get to describing Rachel without prying open a can of worms he had trouble closing in the first place.

Isu pats his hand in sympathy, “One of those, huh? One of my exes dumped me because he had his sights on something higher too. I’ll go for the other one then… his gay experiment.”

Hatz hisses at that, and drains the rest of his beer. “Deserved every last punch I gave him.”

Isu laughs, light and hollow and carefully wiped of emotion, and the sound, emptier than the thud of Hatz’s glass on the table, rings in Baam’s ears. He’s glad Hatz was there to dole out the hits all those years ago, because tipsy on three whole glasses of beers, he’s ready to go out and start a new fight himself.

Isu gestures for Khun’s turn, but Khun’s eyes are on Baam. His gaze has a sort of scrutinising air, as though he’s trying to figure something out, and Baam feels his scowl disappear and a tremble run under his skin.

“I don’t believe in dating,” Khun says, after a measure of silence, and Baam’s heart gives a soft thud from where it has sunk somewhere near the floor.

He isn’t sure why he’s disappointed; he’s known about it ever since Khun told him about his sister, of course, and he’s not even sure what he’s hoping for - they’re great friends and it’s already more than Baam could ask for. Khun is kind and smart and pays attention to the people around him and he has a sort of determined dedication that Baam has never quite figured out how to instil in himself. And even if Khun was up for dating, Baam thinks, he’d be too many leagues above Baam; just in the time they’ve been sat down, there have been countless looks thrown at their table, soft giggles about the boy with the messy blue ponytail and eyes like sapphires, quiet and not-so-quiet whispers daring each other to go up and talk to him.

None of them have, though. It’s just something about the way Khun’s eyes have never wandered from their table that has kept everyone away.

“-couldn’t press charges against him,” Khun is saying. The napkin between his fingers has been torn to shreds, and Baam wants nothing more than to be able to curl his hand around Khun’s in comfort without the tug in his heart begging for more.

He keeps his hands to himself.

“Well, I thought I was the most miserable story, but fuck,” Isu says, and stands up. “I’m going to get another round.”

He comes back with a tray full of soju bottles, and they end up drinking all the way through Isu’s list of silly questions.

They learn that Hatz would name his hypothetical bunny General McHoppers, and that Khun would rather fight a duck-sized horse than a horse-sized duck. Baam can’t remember if they decided on hot dogs being tacos or sandwiches on their way out of the pub, but somewhere along the way his gloves have been fumbled onto his hands and his beanie jammed onto his head.

Isu has his arm around Hatz, talking a mile a minute about how the flat earth theory could theoretically be true while Hatz is struggling to support his weight. Baam could laugh at the way Isu’s stumbling, but come to think of it, he isn’t so sure about the structural integrity of his own legs.

He feels an arm slide around his waist and a laugh, low and breathy in his ear. He shivers at the sound and the way it feels so achingly close he could just turn and- he decides to blame it on the wind chill.

“You’re a lightweight,” Khun accuses. There’s a ribbon of a laugh in his voice and Baam mutters out a stubborn, “I’m not,” that goes unheeded.

“So when are you coming back?” Khun asks, voice light and conversational. “We can probably do something together before winter break is over and the next semester starts.”

Baam squints at him, as though it will make Khun’s voice amplify through the cotton wool of his brain. “Mm not leaving for break,” he says carefully. “Staying here.”

Maybe taking phonology was a good idea, Baam thinks. Makes his enunciation clearer and all that. Maybe Khun will stop thinking he’s drunk and unhand him.

Khun just snorts, and if anything, his hold on Baam gets tighter. His voice is tinged with amusement as he leans closer, lips brushing Baam’s ear. “You are drunk,” Khun informs him, “and you’re saying all your thoughts out loud.”

Baam flushes and immediately clams up. That’s enough thinking and thoughts for tonight, he decides, and is rewarded with a silver peal of Khun’s laughter.

Khun tosses and turns.

There’s no reason why he can’t sleep - the curtains are drawn and Baam’s breathing is even and quiet. He can only imagine the storm coming from Rak just next door.

Khun groans quietly. This is the worst time for his insomnia to act up - they’re planning to go to an amusement park tomorrow and damn if he’s going to be tired through all the fun.

He gropes blindly about until he finds his phone. Isu and Baam sent photos from the museum earlier; he might as well use this time to go through them and save them.

He thumbs through them quickly. Most of them are shots of Rak staring open-mouthed at the exhibits, but there are some silly shots of them looking absolutely ridiculous.

There’s a mirror shot with all of them crouching in front of four huge turtle shells, with Rak standing in the middle, cackling his head off about them finally being “turtles”. Isu’s holding the phone and yelling at them to stop squirming and to please align themselves so they all show up at the correct angle in the mirror or god so help me, my arms are gonna fucking fall off. The photo is slightly blurry with his efforts and Khun can almost hear Hatz’s helpless giggles ringing through the photo.

His thumb stills.

Picture-Baam’s arm is half-raised, fingers coming up to brush away his bangs, and picture-Khun’s arm is slung over his shoulders. PIcture-Baam’s eyes are crinkled up, mid-laugh, smile bright and golden as sunflowers and not quite as radiant as Khun knows it is in real life, but radiant all the same.

And picture-Khun is looking at him, smile soft and head slightly bowed, eyes brimming an emotion Khun does not yet know how to describe.

His thumb swipes to save the photo before he realises it, and there is a flash of an idea about setting it as his wallpaper before he is distracted by a sleepy snuffle. By the light of his phone he sees Baam spread out on his side of the bed, face-down on his pillow.

Khun frowns. There’s no way that’s good for respiration.

He reaches over and gently tugs on the pillow, enough so that Baam has to shifts his head to accommodate for the change but not enough that it wakes him up. He waits until Baam resettles, head tilted and eyelashes brushing his cheek. His mouth is slightly open, lips soft and parted, and Khun is dimly aware of the urge to brush Baam’s hair away from where it is falling across his face.

Beautiful.

The word springs, unbidden, to his mind and he freezes.

Baam. Baam, with the biggest heart of anyone he knows. Baam, with his thoughtful smile and easy laugh and the quiet way in which he lights up the room.

Baam, with the way he finishes Khun’s sentences and laughs at all of Khun’s stupid puns, with the way he understands Khun without either of them having to exchange a word, with the way his loyalty to his friends is fierce and burns with the heat of a thousand suns. Baam, with the way he fits, just right, into Khun’s side, like two hands made to hold.

Baam, with all his kindness and his constancy and his optimism and all of his warmth.

Baam, his best friend.

Khun breathes out shakily, puts his phone down, knots his fingers together, and wills himself to go to sleep.

Baam yanks his chair out from his desk. He’s sopping wet and his bangs keep dripping in his eyes and his goddamn bag is soaked and he feels that awful discomfort of clothes sticking to his skin and really, all he wants to do is take a warm shower and curl into his bed and forget this day ever happened.

“Your mood,” Isu remarks from his bed, “seems to be absolutely foul.”

“You think?” Baam snarls.

Isu blinks, then shuts his laptop. “Wanna talk about it?”

Got caught in the rain, he wants to say. Got called out in class to answer a question about the reading I didn’t do. Got leered at by some creep on the street. But everything is stuck on the top of his tongue, dwarfed by a bigger truth threatening to slip out.

Got stood up for lunch by Khun again.

“Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here to listen,” Isu says, voice soft and gaze even softer.

Just like that, Baam feels the angry knot in his chest loosen, gently unwound by the unquestioning kindness in Isu’s voice. He lets his backpack tumble to his chair, then sinks, wet clothes and all, onto the floor.

He opens his mouth, intending to apologise for snapping at Isu, but all that slips out is a sob.

Immediately Isu is on his knees, hugging him tight and cradling Baam’s head. Baam tries to bat him off, tries to say through a nose full of snot, I’m getting your clothes drenched with rainwater, but Isu just swipes Baam’s bangs away from his forehead and hugs him again.

“Go take a warm shower,” Isu says, “I’ll make tea, and you can tell me what happened.”

Baam nods, and Isu herds him off the floor and into their bathroom.

He tries to get his shit together in the shower, and emerges ten minutes later, red-eyed and sniffly-nosed, to Isu’s promised cup of tea. It takes five minutes for him to gloss through the shit-show that was class, then another five for him to meander around the topic of Khun.

Isu leans back, finally. “You were meant to meet Khun for lunch, but he stood you up and you’re upset because it’s the second time this week he’s done it without warning.”

“I mean... yes, but now that you put it like that, it sounds like such a stupid reason to be upset, I sound so stupidly clingy-“ Baam falters.

“Do you know why he didn’t show up?”

Baam looks down at the chip in his mug. It fits the shape of his fingernail exactly, almost as if he could have, at one point, dug his fingernails in so deep he chipped the mug himself.

“Yeah,” Baam says at last, “He was meeting his partner for their marketing project.”

“The marketing genius? The one he’s been nattering on about for the past two weeks?”

Baam swallows the bitter taste in his mouth that really has no reason to be there. There’s an uncomfortable knot in his throat, and he sighs. “The first time, I waited twenty minutes before I called and he picked up and apologised for losing track of time because he was talking to her. Which is fine, you know, we all do it.”

“And this time?”

“Called a couple times but he didn’t even pick up the phone. And it was raining, so I thought he might have been trying to wait out the rain and lost battery or something, or maybe something important popped up, so I ran through the rain to the business building to look for him, but he was just standing in the lobby of the building talking to his project partner and laughing with her and-“ Suddenly there’s a lump in his throat that he can’t speak around, and he falls silent.

It’s so stupid, he thinks. He’s acting like a spoilt child, crying because he doesn’t have someone’s undivided attention. It’s so, so stupid that he thought he had a monopoly on Khun’s time, that he thought he was so important that-

“It sounds,” Isu says carefully, “like you’re upset that he didn’t respect your time, and that he temporarily held time with his project partner in higher regard than time with you. Combined with the rest of your day, it’s understandable that it’d be a last straw.” He’s squinting at Baam, as though he doesn’t expect to be right, as though he expects there to be something more but can’t quite put his finger on what it is.

Baam nods at him anyway, but there’s an unsavoury, wiggling feeling at the bottom of his stomach that laughs at that.

If it wasn’t Khun, you wouldn’t have minded as much, it taunts him. If it was Hatz, you’d have just brushed it off as his scatterbrain and just waited out the rain. But it was something about seeing Khun with that girl that made you so upset you had to run home in the rain, wasn’t it? I think you’re-

“You’re jealous,” Isu says, slight incredulity colouring his tone as he arrives as the same conclusion. He rocks back in his chair slightly, and repeats, “My god, you’re jealous.”

Baam chokes. He briefly considers denying Isu’s scarily accurate mind-reading, but his head is so, so heavy, and there’s a tiny bloom of relief now that the nasty knot in his throat has finally been given a name.

He lets his head hit the table, and his question comes out more like a smothered whine. “How do I make it stop?”

He feels Isu’s fingers tap along the table as he works out the answer to Baam’s question.

“You’re acting like you’ve just got your heart broken,” Isu says, after a while. “I think that should tell you something.”

“I’m not in love with him,” Baam says, protest dulled and muffled. “I’m not.”

Isu remains silent.

“I’m not,” Baam insists. “He’s my best friend.”

He waits for the familiar bloom of pride he gets whenever Khun introduces him to someone as his best friend, but the words ‘best friend’ no longer taste like they used to.

“He’s my best friend,” he says again. As the words leave his mouth, Baam no longer quite knows who it is that he’s insisting to.

(Khun knocks on his door that night to apologise. Baam takes a deep breath and they both ignore his red eyes and pretend nothing ever happened.)

Baam shifts. It’s warm under the blanket and really, if someone could turn that fucking alarm off and let him sleep a couple more minutes, it’d be great.

There’s a slight shift behind him, and a small whine comes from the crook of his neck.

Baam freezes, suddenly more awake. There’s a heavy, warm sort of weight around his waist and a cool press against his calves. He doesn’t dare open his eyes to see what they might be.

This can’t be happening, he tells himself, then nearly laughs aloud. Of course it’s a dream, Baam thinks. His unconscious must have lifted something out of all the things he’s never allowed himself to consider, much less daydream about, and stuffed them all into a dream-

Lips brush the back of his neck and Baam’s mind stops working.

He’s sure his heart is thumping loud enough to wake Khun up, but Khun just mumbles against his neck again, whispers of a breath making Baam’s hair stand on end. “The alarm-“

He feels Khun still. Stars burn and burst and civilisations rise and fall in the spaces between Baam’s heartbeats. He can almost hear the cogs in Khun’s brain turning, and he’s so busy trying to keep his heart still and his breathing even that he thinks he imagines the barest press of lips on the back of his neck before Khun pulls away.

He nearly whimpers at the loss of contact, but Khun has already shut off the infernal alarm and is shaking him awake, hand warm against his shoulder.

Khun’s voice is rough with sleep and something else as he tells Baam to get up and get dressed for breakfast. Baam tries not to think about it.

Isu is convinced Baam just needs to go out more and meet people that don’t live with him and are not Khun.

Baam disagrees.

He doesn’t understand why Isu is squeezed onto his bed next to him, flicking through Tinder and showing him faces that frankly, look nothing close to Khun’s. “I’m not interested in dating anyone,” Baam mutters for the fourth time.

“You’re not interested in dating anyone that isn’t Khun,” Isu corrects. He swipes left a couple times, then frowns. “How about this one?”

Baam groans, and shoves him lightly. “Get off my bed, Isu, your bed is literally three feet away.”

“You can’t see faces on this screen from three feet away-“

“I don’t want to-“

“Listen, Baam, you want to get over Khun? Go on some dates. Seven billion people on this earth and you think that blue shrimp is The One?”

“I don’t think he’s anything, he’s just my best friend-“ Baam falters under Isu’s withering look. He has to admit that even to himself, his repeated denials have sounded particularly pathetic as of late.

“You’re not fooling anyone,” Isu says finally, setting his phone down. “I’ve seen the way you look at him, and frankly? It reminds me of the way I used to look at Hatz.”

Baam’s eyes widen. “Hatz?! But-“

Isu waves him away. “Briefly thought I fancied him way back in ninth grade. Had a whole dramatic little crisis about pining after my straight best friend too, it was a nightmare for my mum.”

“And then what happened?” Baam’s voice is smaller than he intends.

Isu snorts, tipping his head back and letting it hit the wall, “Then I went on a date with someone else and realised that I was an absolute fool and Hatz wasn’t all that great, that’s what happened. My mum’s theory is that since there wasn’t anyone else in the picture, my brain went for the only one who would show me affection. Which was really stupid, because something in me already knew that even if Hatz and I were soulmates, we’re in no way relationship material, you know? It just took me a little nudge to better figure out what I wanted in a relationship and realise that Hatz wasn’t it.” He chances a look at Baam, and exhales a shaky laugh, looking back up at the ceiling. “Don’t tell him, though, don’t want to get his ego to get more inflated than it already is.”

Baam looks up at him. He sees how Isu’s biting his lip and avoiding his gaze, and he sees how Isu’s sharing a part of himself that he’s never told anyone, how Isu’s just really and sincerely trying to help. “I’d never.”

And so he agrees. He agrees to let Isu set him up on dates and he agrees to sit down and figure out what it is he wants. Because it can’t be - and it shouldn’t be - Khun. It can’t be Khun and his smart quips and his messy bangs and the way he smiles at Baam like Baam’s the only thing in his world and the way that makes Baam’s heart skip a beat every time.

(Khun catches him, one day, stumbling out the dorm, running late to a date with some girl named Endorsi? Androssi? “Where you headed? Wanna get dinner?”

“Maybe later,” Baam mumbles, distracted and looking at everywhere else but Khun, “I’m late to a… to a date.”

Then he slips away, like sand between Khun’s fingers, and Khun tells himself for the rest of the day that the hollow feeling in his chest is because his professor only gave him an A- on that marketing project that he and Yuri slaved away over.)

“If I have to go on another rollercoaster, I’m going to throw up,” Isu warns the group. He’s bent over heaving, hands on his knees, and his glare just makes Hatz laugh even harder.

Khun chuckles and takes pity on him. “You all go on ahead, I’ll take this one and get us snacks. We’ll meet you at the exit of the next coaster.”

It takes all of two seconds for Hatz and Rak to cheer and haul Baam off to the next one.

“You didn’t want to get on another one too, huh?” Isu whispers conspiratorially, bumping his shoulder against Khun’s.

Khun snorts, “I can handle a couple more-“

“Liar!” Isu sings, and winds his arm around Khun’s shoulders. Khun bats him off, laughing, and they head over to the nearest concession stand.

Isu orders them hotdogs, but the churros in the display case catches Khun’s eye. A vague memory of Baam mentioning churros flashes in Khun’s mind and he makes a quick decision.

“And a churro,” Khun tacks on, then fishes out his wallet.

Isu eyes him. “Hungry?”

Khun shakes his head. “Baam likes churros, he hasn’t had them in a while.”

Isu just looks at him strangely, then turns to collect their orders from the operator.

Khun frowns. Should he have gotten all of them churros? Hatz doesn’t like sugary things, though-

As they walk back, foil-wrapped hotdogs and churro in hand, he hears Isu whistle quietly. He bumps his hip against Khun’s, and nods over to their right. “Look at that guy.”

Khun glances up, trying to keep the mini hotdog-churro mountain in his hand from toppling. The guy in question has short silver hair barely covered by a backwards cap and eyes red as a snake’s. The flimsy white tank top he has on leaves little to the imagination, and from the way he looks positively sculpted, Khun can see why Isu singled him out.

“Right Baam’s type, isn’t he?” Isu says, and Khun nearly drops the churro.

“Baam-“ he splutters, trying to salvage the churro from where it’s clamped in the turn of his wrist. “Baam’s type?”

“Yeah. You think he’s Baam’s type?”

“I don’t know, he’s only ever dated girls-“

“You’re his best friend and you never once asked? Also, he’s only had one girlfriend, but I set him up with all genders-“

“You set him up?!”

“For the whole of freshman spring, you fool, did you never catch on?”

“He’s never mentioned it-“

“That’s because he wasn’t interested in any of them, and I tried my best, mind you-“

“And that’s Baam’s type?” Khun twists slightly to look back at the man.

Isu bites his lip, grinning, and Khun has a strange feeling Isu’s just making it up in his head.

“He isn’t, is he?” Khun says, and ignores the way his heart lifts slightly.

“You’ll just have to ask,” Isu sings, and Khun groans.

Before he can think too much about why he even wants to find out in the first place, they see a brown blur barrelling towards them, and Khun has to take a step back to avoid being ran over by Rak.

Hatz and Baam are slower to head towards them, still talking about the animatronics in their last ride. Isu hands Hatz his hotdog, and Khun is about to tell Baam that hey, the concession stand was selling churros and I remember you mentioned a while ago-

“The animatronics were really cool, Khun, you should have seen it. You would have liked them.” Baam’s eyes are shining, soft muted gold, and Khun finds himself smiling softly back.

“I’ll go with you next time,” Khun promises, and is rewarded with Baam’s breathless beam.

(“Gross,” Hatz mutters, mouth full of mustard. Isu isn’t sure if he’s talking about the way Khun and Baam can’t stop looking at each other or if it’s the obscene amount of mustard he slathered onto Hatz’s hotdog as a joke.)

As it turns out, Baam gets along with all the people Isu sets him up with like a house on fire.

Not in the way Isu expects, of course. Baam finds out that Wangnan was forced to do it by his friends too, and they spend an hour commiserating over meddling friends with good intentions before realising they share their sociolinguistics class and move on to commiserating over that too. Ehwa is slightly clumsy with her words, but is completely endearing, and when she admits to Baam that she’s not really looking for a relationship because she’s still hung up over an ex, Baam finds himself equal parts relieved and sympathetic. Urek confesses that his main motive for downloading the app is to convince people to join his school’s flailing LGBTQ club, but it backfires when they realise they attend different colleges. Baam laughs and agrees to attend some of Urek’s club events anyway.

He ends up great friends with all of them, and with the flow and ebb of the semester, ends up spending less time in his dorm than usual.

“Getting popular, huh,” Khun says one day, as Baam taps out a reply to Ehwa that absolutely yes, he‘d love to hear about the new boy she’s been seeing. Baam hums distractedly in response, and sets his phone down when Khun sighs.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time out of the dorm,” Khun tries again.

Baam blinks. “Some of my friends living in different residence halls.”

“You’ve been spending less time with us,” Khun clarifies. Baam wishes he could see Khun’s eyes to figure out what he’s thinking, but Khun’s frowning down at his nails.

“You jealous?” The words slip out of his mouth before he can help it, and he nearly laughs at their irony.

Khun glances sharply at him, full force of a blue stare wiping away Baam’s smile. He’s looking straight at Baam with a seriousness that they’ve never shared in their nearly-two semesters of friendship, and there follows a moment of silence so loud that it echoes in Baam’s ears and with each beat of his heart Baam knows that Isu is wrong, Isu is wrong, Isu is wrong and that there will never be anyone for him but Khun.

Suddenly Khun blinks and he’s pouting, lower lip jutting out in petulance. “So what if I am?”

(When Hatz walks in, he says Baam laughed so loudly he could hear him all the way from the lift.)

Rak eyes Baam’s hotdog. He’s long since finished his, but Baam’s been stuck, starry-eyed, on the churro Khun bought for him, and Rak grumbles to himself that if Baam doesn’t get started on that hotdog soon he’ll rip it out of Baam’s hands and inhale it himself.

“Baam? Is that you?”

An unfamiliar man is standing behind them, head cocked to the side and unzipped hoodie barely clinging onto his biceps. Rak winces as Isu grabs his shoulder and whispers, “It’s him!”

Before Rak can ask Isu what he’s talking about, Baam has burst into a smile - “Urek!”

“Baam, baby, I knew it was you!”

Rak blinks. Baby?

He wants to ask Isu about this strange man with silver hair, but everyone’s mouth hangs open as Urek envelopes Baam in a bone-crushing hug and lifts him off the ground.

“Thought I wasn’t going to see you again, not with my club leaving for our trip two days before your finals ended, but I’m so glad to see you, babe-“

Isu issues a faint squeak as Urek plants a loud smack on Baam’s forehead, and clutches Rak’s shoulder even tighter.

Rak turns to Isu. “Explain,” he demands, under his breath.

“I thought he looked familiar when I saw him just now, fuck- I set up him with Baam ages ago, back in freshman spring, I thought nothing came of it since Baam talks about him like he’s just a friend but-“

“But babe?” Rak hisses. Khun isn’t going to like this, he thinks. He’s going to go into one of his infamous sulks and Baam’s going to be the only one who can pull him out of it, and good fucking luck to whoever gets the job of explaining to Baam why Khun was sulking in the first place.

“So you gonna introduce me to your friends, Baam?” The man says, slinging his arm around Baam and smiling genially at everyone. Baam’s smile is so wide it nearly cracks his face in half, and Rak wonders faintly how Khun is faring.

“Everyone, this is Urek, he goes to the college uptown. Urek, these are my best friends Hatz, Isu, Rak and... where’s Khun?”

Rak pauses as everyone turns to look around. He swears Khun was right beside Hatz half a second ago, but there’s absolutely no trace of him now. Half of Rak is relieved that he’s not on the other end of one of Khun’s patented glares, but the other half of him knows Khun well enough that he can smell the Brood building just right round the corner.

He sighs, and gently disentangles Isu’s arm from his. “He mentioned something about needing to run to the washroom, I’ll go see if he’s there.”

Rak waves a friendly goodbye at Urek, and as he walks away to search for a flash of blue hair, he hears a sly, “Oh, Khun? Your Khun?” and Baam’s flustered spluttering.

Ah.

He spots a messy blue flash a little ways down from them, and hurries over before Khun can see him.

“So,” Rak says by way of greeting. He clamps a hand on Khun’s shoulder as Khun turns, blue eyes flashing in surprise, “Our mighty Khun has run away.”

“I’m not running from anything,” Khun mutters, turning away again, “I just... saw this really interesting... thing and came over to look at it.”

“Terribly fascinating, these... uh,” Rak follows Khu’s gaze, “these trash cans.”

“They... they might talk.”

“Talking trash cans.” Rak is unimpressed, and he makes sure to let it into his tone.

He crosses his arms and lets Khun avoid his gaze for a few more seconds. Khun’ll start talking soon, Rak knows - he hates awkwardness, especially when they’re centred around him.

“He’s… he does seem close to Baam, isn’t he?” Khun says, eventually. He still hasn’t taken his eyes off the trash cans, and Rak briefly considers tossing Khun into one.

“I don’t know, you tell me. You’re his best best friend.”

There’s a flash of a wince before Khun’s cool mask is back. “He hasn’t told me anything about that guy.”

Rak waits.

“He’d… he’d tell me if they were dating, wouldn’t he?” Khun’s eyebrows are furrowed. “Why hasn’t he said anything about being someone’s… someone’s babe?”

Khun spits out the last word with so much disgust that Rak nearly laughs. “You’re an idiot,” Rak chooses to say instead.

He waits for Khun to look up before continuing, “You’re an idiot and lest you forget, you're his best friend-“

“Just his best friend-“

“-and what that means is that if he hasn’t told you anything about this guy giving him pet names, it probably isn’t significant enough to him and he hasn’t feel the need to mention it. To you or to any of us. Whoever Urek is, he doesn’t mean anything to Baam other than a friend, and you, of all people, shouldn’t worry that Baam is keeping anything from us. He’s your best friend, Khun. Trust him.”

Khun lowers his head, worrying a fingernail between his teeth. They remain silent for a moment, until Rak finally processes what Khun has said.

“Just his best friend?” Rak tries not to smile too widely. “You looking to be something more, then?”

Khun freezes slightly, then lets out a laugh that is far too cheery. “Course not.”

Rak isn’t as smart or perceptive as Isu is, he knows, but he likes to think that after more than two years of friendship, he can read Khun pretty well too. He kicks lightly at the trash cans, and offers quietly, “I know his friendship is valuable to you - I know all of our friendships are - but I don’t know if you see the way Baam looks at you sometimes. There’s… there’s something different there. There’s something there that Hatz doesn’t have with Isu. And I know you’re afraid of losing him, and you’re afraid taking the chance that one day he might leave you behind but… for what my opinion is worth, I think Baam might be a chance worth taking.”

He watches Khun take one breath, two, three. Khun’s hands are balled up into fists and Rak can see the cogs turning as Khun processes and reprocesses what Rak is presenting to him.

When Khun speaks, his voice is small. “The way Baam looks at me?”

“You’ve been walking around him with your eyes closed, haven’t you - he looks at you the same way you look at him.”

Khun’s mouth opens, as if in denial, and Rak huffs. “He looks at you like if you were to hypothetically be more than best friends with him… he looks at you as if he might like that.”

Khun shuts his mouth. He stays lost in thought for a while, and Rak feels an itch on the back of his neck like someone is watching him. He suddenly remembers the way they have left Baam and Hatz and Isu standing, waiting for them, and curses. “Come on, they’re looking for you. Should I tell them you were jealous that someone called Baam baby or should I tell them you were entranced by talking trash cans?”

Khun flushes and turns to walk away from said trash cans, tossing Rak two fingers.

Rak just cackles.

The first snow of sophomore year falls on a Tuesday.

Baam wakes up to a flurry of white outside his window, and as he trudges through the ankle-high slush and the snowflakes that threaten to glue his eyelashes together, he realises he forgot to bring gloves.

Ah, well. He’ll just suffer, then.

His phone buzzes with non-stop texts from Hatz and Isu all throughout his second lecture of the day, and he fumbles to set it on Do Not Disturb when his TA starts glancing over at him.

Best Roommate Ever: snowing!!!! Fencing Champion: snowball fight in the park, 2pm Best Roommate Ever: bring it on bro I’m not scared of you Fencing Champion: yeah, not scared of me keeping my winning streak alive Alligator Overlord: get ready to get SMUSHED, cowards, the Great Rak is coming Khun: good lord, y’all couldn’t wait until classes were over?

Baam bites back a grin, heart oddly warm, and he finds himself unable to sit still for the remainder of the lecture. He ends up counting down the minutes to the end of class, and as soon as it hits 1.45pm he tosses his notes into his bag and his scarf around his neck.

He is the first one out of the building, and nearly blows by the person leaning by the entrance. The person reaches forward and tugs on his backpack, and Baam turns around, startled, only to come face to face with Khun.

“Woah there,” Khun laughs, arms reaching out to steady him. “In a rush?”

Baam grins in response. “Left my gloves at the dorm, thought I’d go grab them before meeting everyone for the snowball fight. Wanna come with?”

Khun raises an eyebrow, and produces Baam’s gloves from his own pocket and holds them up to Baam.

“Absolute hero,” Baam beams, and he tries to tamp down the wonderful sort of warmth curling out from his heart all the way down to his toes. “How’d you know?”

Khun shrugs. “You always forget your gloves. Thought I’d just let myself in and check if you did.”

He hands Baam his gloves, and wait for him to put them on before they begin the cold and slippery trek to the park.

Isu and Hatz are already there, wrapped in beanies and scarves and long winter coats.

“Get ready to get wrecked, losers!” Isu calls out, waving to them.

“Where’s Rak?”

“Rak’s here,” comes Rak’s voice, somewhere near Baam’s feet. He’s lying on his back, limbs spread out and tongue sticking out. “Mm trying to catch snowflakes.”

Baam just laughs, and helps him up. There are already multiple groups spread across the grass, flinging snowballs at each other with peals of laughter carrying in the wind.

“We’re thinking a three versus two game,” Isu offers, now that Rak is back on his feet. “How do we want to split?”

They decide on rock, paper, scissors, and by some feat of magic (“Manipulation,” Hatz insists), Khun emerges on top.

“You get first pick,” Hatz tells him, “but the other side gets the third person.”

Khun twists to look at Baam. “How’s your aim?”

“Terrible,” Baam answers honestly, and Khun grins with far too much delight.

“Great. I want Baam.”

“No cheating,” Hatz warns. “Just the both of you.”

Khun bumps his shoulder against Baam’s and grins at him, eyes sparkling with mischief, “Always been us, hasn’t it?”

And when Baam laughs, full and delighted, Khun swings, hidden snowball hitting Hatz right between the eyes.

(Baam dreams about us sometimes. He dreams of an us, a universe in which Khun is ice and he is fire, and they burn together in an endless firework instead of melting into a tepid puddle.

He dreams of a Khun that hurtles through space and time, and of a Baam that will rip rifts into the fabric of the universe if it means he can follow wherever Khun goes.

He dreams of a Baam that spins illusions out of thin air in a circus for those without a home, and a Khun that tells the future and flips cards and is the flip side of his card, the way people are in the best sort of love stories.

He dreams of a Khun that wraps his hand around Baam’s and tips their foreheads together in soft moonlight, and of a Baam that is brave enough to rest his head against Khun’s heart, finally brave enough to dance with him to the quiet song that is three o’clock.

He dreams of a Baam that charges into battle, cloaked in red, sword drawn and burning with the rage of a thousand souls, and of a Khun that grits his teeth and charges in right behind him.

He tells Isu about the latest of his strange dreams one day, and Isu just laughs.

“Of course he would,” Isu says, picking up his book again. “Khun looks at you as if he’d follow you around anywhere.”)

“Come on, eat faster, we’re gonna miss good spots for the fireworks!”

“What good spots?” Khun snorts. “In case you forget, fireworks are in the sky. Anywhere’s a good spot.”

Rak levels Khun a glare, and brandishes a fry in his face. “Not if the only place left is under an awning and all our views are blocked. Remember junior year?”

Everyone groans at the memory and starts eating slightly faster - they waited for the fireworks to signal the end of the pride parade, but when the fireworks started and they finally clambered outside of the coffee shop they were waiting in, all they could see was the red underbelly of an awning that desperately needed a clean.

“So,” Baam says, “Urek asks if we want to meet his club for lunch tomorrow.”

There is instant reaction around the table - Rak drops a fry on the ground and squawks, and Isu chokes on his soda. Hatz has to thump him hard on the back before Isu inhales, red-faced. He flashes a grin at Baam, “Why don’t you ask Khun?”

Khun looks up from where he is staring daggers at the table, and frowns. Why me? He wants to ask, but Baam has already turned to him, eyes hopeful and fingers poised over his keyboard.

He swallows hard. As much as he doesn’t like Urek (Which doesn’t make sense, by the way, a small voice in his head tells him primly. Urek’s been nothing but friendly to you.) he doesn’t want to be the one to deny Baam anything. “If you want to, sure.”

Hatz huffs in annoyance, and Khun shoots him a look. What’s with all his friends today, he wants to demand. First with Isu joking about Baam’s type, then Rak being uncharacteristically insightful about things Khun doesn’t want to think about, and now Hatz? But he sees an opening to get answers, and he goes in for the kill.

He turns to Baam, and slaps on a smirk. “So he’s your type, huh?”

Baam’s mouth hangs open, a faint blush painting his cheeks. “He’s- what- he-” Baam flaps his hands in Khun’s direction. “What made you think that?”

Khun affects a casual shrug. “Looked like you were pretty pleased to see him.”

“He’s a friend from uptown,” Baam says. “Nothing like my type.”

“And what would that be?” Khun says, then makes the mistake of looking into Baam’s eyes. Like honey, he thinks, dazed, the kind that is sweet and sticky and impossible to ever escape once you’ve fallen in.

He nearly misses Baam’s nonchalant answer, delivered as if he’d rehearsed in his mind a thousand times before. “You know, kind, smart, resourceful. Takes the time to get to know me. Same sense of humour. Always knows what to say. Remembers the small details about me, stuff like that.”

There’s a snort from the other end of the table that sounds suspiciously like sounds a lot like Khun, but the tips of Baam’s ears are red as he breaks eye contact with Khun and he’s pouting so fiercely at Isu that Khun’s mind nearly goes blank at how… how cute it is.

But Rak is growling at them about how if they don’t finish eating in five minutes he’s going to head out to see the fireworks without them, and so Khun’s mind shuts up pretty quickly.

(They manage to find a good spot, of course. Not many awnings in amusement parks.)

The first firework to go up is red, and the crowd oohs and aahs as their video cameras capture the peony bursting into a thousand tiny stars. The next one is a yellow brocade, and as the golden stars fade away, Khun can’t help but think that it doesn’t quite match the golden of Baam’s eyes.

Baam.

He turns to his side, shoulder brushing Baam’s, and is stunned to see Baam already looking at him.

Baam blinks rapidly at having been caught, and Khun can see a small flush making its way up his face in the dim light. Khun’s eyes unconsciously trail down, a small part of his mind wondering, wandering-

Khun finds himself leaning in, and his eyes dart back up to Baam’s, suddenly closer than they’ve ever been. They are full of… hesitance, Khun thinks. Hesitance and a quiet sort of yearning and something that resembles hopefulness that makes Khun’s heart flip in a peculiar sort of way.

He opens his mouth, but under the bursts of the fireworks and the thunder of his own heartbeat, he finds that for the first time in his life he cannot think of anything to say to his best friend.

He doesn’t know how long they stay like this, encased in all the things Khun doesn’t know how to put into words, a frozen bubble of their own, but all too soon the lights are flickering back on in the park and everyone is cheering for the fireworks display. There is a resigned sort of smile on Baam’s face as he raises his hands to join the applause, and Khun notices too late that Baam never pulled away.

“They were beautiful, weren’t they, Khun!” Hatz is saying, and Khun snaps away, shoulders jolting away from Baam’s and mouth fumbling through a yes, of course, of course.

When Khun is five, his sister tells him about her first boyfriend. What kind of person do you want to date in ten years, Khun? Khun thinks about it, and tells her, with all the gravity a five-year-old can muster, someone who eats all my carrots so I don’t have to. His sister bursts out laughing, then hauls him onto her lap. My boyfriend is tall and smart and handsome, she says, tickling his sides. Will you be tall and smart and handsome too? But he’s wriggling around too much to answer, answering shrieks of laughter echoing down the hallway.

When Khun is eight, he comes back from school with a backpack full of chocolates on Valentine’s Day, and when his mother laughs and asks him who he got them all from, he shrugs. Here and there, he tells her, and he hands her the stack of letters he gets along with them for her perusal. You didn’t open any of them, she says, but he has already wandered off. He ends up stuffing some chocolate into his sister’s jacket pocket, and when she disappears that night he wonders if she ever finds them.

When Khun is ten, his sister comes back home, bruised and empty. She sometimes forgets the motions she needs to go through to love herself again, Khun’s mother tells him, so he needs to love her extra until she remembers. He hears - he can still hear - the quiet, trembling way she tries to rebuild herself and when he climbs into her bed to hug her and pepper her forehead with kisses the same way their mum does, he tells her it’s okay to cry, and he tells himself that he will never let someone consume him the way that monster has consumed her, because even at the age of ten Khun has come to learn that sometimes the wounds that hurt the most are the ones that don’t show scars.

When Khun is fourteen, Novick gets a crush for the first time. He tells Khun all about her after school one day, and Khun nods politely in all the right places while trying to solve a rubix cube. How do you know? Khun asks, hands fiddling with his cube. How do you know you like her? Novick flops over onto his bed and sighs. Can’t get her out of my mind, Novick says. I can’t stop wanting to make her smile.

When Khun is seventeen, Dan applies to the same college his partner does. You’ll regret it, Khun and Novick tell him. Think about what college is best for your education, not who’s going to go there, but Dan just laughs. It’s a reach school anyway, he says. He might not make it in. But he’s test-savvy, and he does, and when it comes down to the decision between Khun’s school and theirs, Dan chooses them. Don’t sacrifice your future for someone you might not even remember down the road, it doesn’t make sense, Novick tells him, and tosses a pen at his head. Love isn’t supposed to make sense anyway, Dan grins, and that’s that.

When Khun is eighteen, he comes back to Dan and Novick for the summer with one name on his tongue. He tells them all about Baam and the way Baam’s eyes sparkle when he’s excited and the way he hates pickles and the way he laughs at all the bad jokes everyone else groans at. He talks about Baam until Novick swipes him on the head and laughs. You talk about him so much it’s insane. You in love, bro? And Khun remembers the flames that burned his sister, the way love ate and ate and ate away at her until she had to build herself again, and he bites his tongue and shakes his head, insistent. I’m not.

When Khun is twenty two, alone in a hotel room crowded with his own thoughts at two am while his best friend lingers outside, he calls Dan and Novick. They hear the worry of fingernail between his teeth, and they ask him what’s wrong, Khun, what’s wrong, and joke about how they’ll help him hide the body. He takes a deep breath, and whispers, I think I’m in love with him.

And just like that, the dam breaks.

He tells them about the way he cannot stop thinking about Baam - the way he has never stopped thinking about Baam since the day they met - and the way he’d do anything to make Baam smile. He tells them about the way Baam’s eyes shine a soft, subdued gold when he’s thoughtful and a fierce, flashing gold when he gets worked up, and the way Khun has tried his best but has never quite figured out if it’s the gold of dusk or dawn. He tells them about the way something inside him aches when Baam looks away, the way Khun’s hands itch to hold his every time they touch.

He tells them about the way Baam eats his carrots (Novick laughs) and the way Baam has a stupid sweet tooth that can only be satisfied with copious amounts of chocolate and the way he walked forty blocks once just to find the sort of chocolate Baam likes because he knew that Baam’s beam at the end of it would be worth it. He tells them about the way Baam looked, under the dim light of the fireworks, the way Baam looked at him, hopeful and yearning and sad all at once, and the way Khun wanted nothing more than to kiss him in that moment. He tells them about what Rak said, about the way Baam looks at him, and the way he looks at Baam and how the past few years suddenly clicked and made sense.

He tells them about the way he’s discovered that Baam has dismantled him, piece by piece, and has diffused through him so thoroughly that everywhere he looks, it just echoes Baam, Baam, Baam, and as a tear rolls down his cheek he tells them about the way it doesn’t make sense, because he’s told himself that nobody is supposed to cut through him like this.

Love isn’t supposed to make sense, Dan says. Now go, go and tell him.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” Baam looks up. He watches as Khun emerges from the shadows, hair almost pearlescent in the sharp moonlight. His hands are stuffed in his pockets, and he looks almost nervous waiting for Baam to allow him to sit.

Baam shifts, and he settles down next to where Baam is sitting on the curb, hugging his legs and chin on his knees. The curb is narrow, and Khun is nearly totally pressed up against Baam by the time he’s fully sat down, adopting the same pose Baam is.

Baam swallows. He feels the warmth of Khun’s leg through his own jeans, and the dangerous brush of Khun’s hand on his.

“Nice night.” Khun comments.

Baam hums in response. It is - the stars have all come out in this dark distance between them and the city, and the only things Baam can hear is the song of the cicadas and the low buzz from the neon sign outside the hotel.

“What brings you outside at 3am?”

Everything, Baam thinks. You. Me. What I want us to be but daren’t ask for.

The way I keep replaying that moment under the fireworks in my head. The way that when I close my eyes, I keep seeing the way you looked at me, keep feeling the brush of your shoulder against mine, but knowing it doesn’t mean the same thing to you as it does to me. The way that even if it did, you’d never act on it, and oh, the way I wish you would.

“Too stuffy,” Baam says instead.

“Me too,” Khun says, and his voice is so close, so close to Baam’s ear that he’s sure if he just turns his head a fraction Khun’s lips will be there. “Too many thoughts for one small room, you know?”

Baam swallows again, and stays still.

“Baam,” Khun murmurs. His voice sounds slightly strangled and all sorts of breathless, and it takes everything in Baam not to shiver in response.

“Baam, look at me, please.”

And so Baam does, because he never can resist when it is Khun asking. He turns, and he sees the way the moonlight dances between Khun’s eyelashes, the way it brushes Khun’s cheeks and makes him glow, makes him look so ethereal that it makes Baam’s chest hurt.

He sees the way Khun’s eyes are soft and open and willing Baam to understand, but fierce and determined and brilliant all at once. They shine, and Baam’s breath stutters.

He wants to look away, wants to pry himself away from the trainwreck of a memory he knows he’s going to form, the memory he knows will replay in his mind’s eye over and over again when he lays down to sleep at night.

But Khun is beautiful, and Baam cannot take his eyes off of him.

Beautiful. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

And suddenly Khun is leaning over, hand warm on Baam’s jaw, eyes questioning, pleading, and Baam feels himself melt into Khun, carried by the ache of want he has hauling around by himself the past four years.

Khun tastes like iced coffee, like sunlight glinting off of fresh snow. He tastes like the crackle of lightning, like a multitude of city lights, like the sound of snowballs skimming across a frozen pond. He tastes like Baam has always thought of and more, lips slotting into Baam’s the way he has slotted himself into the space between Baam’s heartbeats, and Baam isn’t sure if he ever wants Khun to pull away.

And when they do break apart, it is with the feeling that everything in the world has snapped into place, brighter, clearer, right.

“I’m sorry it’s taken me this long,” Khun murmurs. “But I’m here now, and I don’t think I ever want to leave.”

====

anyway i just graduated and now i miss my friends and i don’t know what to do with my life what’s up with y’all

#tower of god #tog #khunbaam #khunbam #vivi writes #what's up folks i haven't written a full fic in close to two years #anyway i'm not posting this on ao3 firstly bc . i don't have an ao3 acc #if anyone could help that would be very helpful #used the morpheme help twice! i'm never going to write 15k words ever again #chopped some too bc i was so scared this wasnt gonna fit in the tumblr character count #catch my old fandom references LOL #but also if you know where the title is from high five ayeeeee jj lin ballad king #除了爱你还能爱谁 is a masterpiece and none of you can tell me otherwise

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papcrplancs · 3 years

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( Leah Lewis, 24, Cis Woman, She/Her ) * hey, i’m looking for the office of Kimora Li. they’re the Personal Trainer who’s known around the office as The Traveler, if that helps ? not to be a gossip, but i’ve heard that they’re Free-Spirited but Reactive, is that true ? i also heard that they’re the one who used her sick time to ride her Motorcycle down the coast. anyways, here’s the coffee they ordered.

oops, look who decided to pick up another muse ajfkajfk. this is Kimora, aka Kim. she’s a personal trainer for all your muses fitness needs! like this if you want to plot, and i will come find you! probably over discord unless you are not on there.

FACTS

Name: Kimora Li

Nickname(s): Kim, Kimmy

Age: 24

DOB: December 9th, 1996

Zodiac Sign: Sagittarius

Label: The Traveler

Sexuality: Pansexual

Hometown: Camden, Maine

APPEARANCE

Height: 5’5

Hair Color: Black

Eye Color: Brown

Ethnicity: East Asian (Chinese)

Aesthetic: Black, White, Muted tones, Motorcycles, Dive Bars, Pintrest board can be found here.

BACKGROUND

Career: Personal Trainer

Education: High School Diploma, National Personal Training Certification, Associates Degree in Exercise Science

Traits: Free-Spirited, Bold, Brave, Intelligent, Empathetic, Reactive, Short-Tempered, Closed-off

Kim’s Mother immigrated from Shanghai to marry her Father, having her only a year into their marriage

Kim grew up excelling in sports, falling in love with physical activity. She did everything from Soccer to Gymnastics, championing in every single one

Her parents were very supportive, showing up to every game or match, cheering her on, and their relationship was always very strong

A month after graduation, Kim left home, and fell in love with traveling. She found her way all around the North East, trying every new food or activity that she stumbled across. Her love of adventure and travel still exists to this day.

Not long after leaving home she met a girl, and fell hard. She was everything Kim dreamed her to be; kind, compassionate, strong. Plus, she rode a motorcycle which was just a bonus

They dated for 3 years, traveling up and down the East Coast, Kim even learning to ride a bike herself along the way. The two of them joined a Biker Club together, finding solace in like minded people who loved to travel the country

When a member of their biker club tragically died in an accident, Kim broke down. She turned to substances to deal with the grief, pushing away her now Ex-Girlfriend who, rightfully, wasn’t ready to put up with that

The breakup set Kim straight… for the most part. She won’t do anything hard, but she still has a beer and smokes a joint if it’s offered

She left the club not long after the break-up, deciding it was best to be solo for a while. She moved back up to Maine, getting a small one bedroom apartment, and working towards her Personal Trainer certification.

She loves the job, because she can make her own schedule, giving her the freedom to travel whenever she wants. Plus, she gets to stay active which, even now, is so important to her

Not long after getting her degree, she got a job at Masters. She’s a personal trainer specifically there for Rolfe and the Actors, but she’ll train anybody in the building if they’re willing to pay her— she’s only on salary for the Actors

HEADCANONS

Kim tore her meniscus in her left knee. The doctors weren’t convinced she’d be able to go back to Gymnastics, but she did and won her division

Kim has a sleeve tattoo on her right arm that she added to, slowly, for every state she visited

She’s visited every state except Hawaii and Alaska, because most of her travel is done on the back of her bike, and it’s harder to get to those

She wants to travel out of the country at some point, specifically to visit China for the first time

She 100% did use her sick time to ride her bike along the coast. And she’s do it again, bitch. She got bored

She keeps her Bike stored even though it’s expensive as hell, because it’s her baby. It’s a Harley Davidson and that is all i’ve got cause i have to research motorcycles more

She will take you on a ride on her bike if she likes you.

She runs a fitness Instagram that’s pretty popular, and that’s partially how Masters noticed her in the first place

She ain’t here for that toxic fitness BS. if you’re in the gym with her, you’re there to get STRONG. No talk of “weight loss” or “getting skinny” we only gET GAINS IN THIS HOUSE

She’s worked at Masters for about 2 years now, so assumed connections/friendships are welcome!

WANTED CONNECTIONS

Trainees (open to any, multiples welcome): Do you wanna work out with Kim? (And test me on my fitness knowledge that i’ve gained in the last year?) You can!!! Whether your character is someone she’s on salary to train, or pays her privately, she’ll work with you

Work Friends (open to any, multiples welcome): Maybe they just see each other at work, occasionally chat in the elevator, and are friendly around the office!

Friends (open to any, multiples welcome): the kind of friends that go to happy hour together, and hang out more outside of work

Best Friend (open to any): Hears all of Kim’s problems, hang out constantly, a confidant of sorts, and are thick of thieves. She’s probably forced them to go to the gym at least once— up to you whether or not they hated it

Roommate (open to any): New York City ain’t cheap. Split that rent for your little shoebox!

Work Enemy/Enemy (open to any): We can flush out the why, but maybe these two just… do not like each other. Two very spirited people tend to struggle to get along!

Ex (open to any women indentifying character, but i’m flexible): this is incredibly niche, but if you want to be her biker ex girlfriend? By all means.

FWB (open to any): It gets lonely out here. nothing like another person to keep you company

#masters.intro #kimora *#tw alchohol mention #tw death mention #tw drugs #body image tw #kinda on that last one #she's a fitness coach and i just wanna be better safe than sorry!#anyways #hello here is my new muse pls plot with her

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abused-sides · 4 years

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Virgil Comes Home [Roommates AU]

Trigger warning: This au follows most of the sides in the aftermath of surviving abuse (domestic, parental, etc). In this particular fic it’s not stated explicitly, but it’s an instrumental part of the story and if that bothers you, then please not only scroll past this fic, but block my blog as well.

More tws: All sides are sympathetic, mentions of living in homeless shelters, poverty, a lot of flinching (though no actual danger), food, descriptions of severe eczema, please let me know if i missed anything. If there are any other preventative measures I can take to keep people safe, also please let me know.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Ships: Endgame romantic intruloceit, romantic prinxiety, queerplatonic royality

Words: 1729

Virgil’s hands trembled as the elevator climbed.

He was still in a sort-of trance, ready to wake up back home with his boyfriend on his way and waiting for dinner. He wasn’t convinced he was moving into his new apartment today, wasn’t convinced he was starting a new life.

He flinched, the elevator ding sharp. He adjusted his backpack and ducked his head as he tiptoed down the hallway. He reached the door, but before he could knock, the door behind him swung open.

“So you’re the new one!”

Virgil whipped around and puffed his chest out, squaring his shoulders.

“Remus,” a bored voice said, “leave him alone.”

Remus stared with a manic, unblinking grin. His face was covered in stubble and his dark hair fell in oily, tangled curls down his face. Dread settled deep in Virgil’s stomach.

“Remus.” Another boy appeared at the door, a delicate, scab covered hand wrapping around Remus’s shoulder. The new boy’s face was red and blotchy, covered in angry scabs and dead skin. A glare twisted his face. “You’re going to be late for work. Want me to finish, or not?”

Remus’s face melted into a pout. “You’re the one that insists I put it up in the first place!”

“That’s because you look like you never made it off the streets.” The boy flicked one of Remus’s curls, his mouth quirking into a barely-noticeable smile.

The door behind Virgil swung open, and he leapt back so his eyeline could catch both threats.

“Are you two seriously trying to scare him off?” A boy who looked strikingly similar to Remus, only more… Put together, glared at the neighbours.

“Don’t lump me in with him,” the boy said flatly.

Remus giggled and kissed the boy’s cheek. “You’re stuck with me, Jan-Jan!”

“I’m sorry about them,” his new roommate huffed. “I’m Roman. Come on inside, I’ll help you get the rest of your stuff.”

Virgil’s heart pounded. He couldn’t get himself out of fight mode, even as Jan pulled Remus back into their own apartment and slammed the door. “This- This is it,” he managed. “This is all of it.”

Roman poorly masked his surprise. “Oh! Okay, well, travelling light has its pros, too, I’m sure.”

He gestured Virgil inside. The apartment was exactly how he remembered it; warm, a little cluttered, covered in frames of photos of the three of them, beautiful homemade artwork, to-do lists, and schedules. Patton, the one who interviewed Virgil, stood in the kitchenette over a sizzling pan of bacon.

“Virgil!” He cried happily and bounded over.

Virgil stiffened as Patton pulled him into a tight hug. He marginally relaxed when Patton pulled away. “You’re just in time, breakfast is ready!”

Shrieking sounded through the apartment— Everyone flinched, and Virgil covered his head as the smoke detector wailed. A boy in glasses came out of one of the closed doors, disabled the smoke detector without stopping, and headed for the front door.

“Thanks, Logan!” Patton straightened up and grinned. “Breakfast is ready!”

“I’m okay, I’ll grab something on the way.” He stopped in front of Virgil. His face was guarded, unreadable. He stuck his hand out. “My name is Logan. Virgil, I presume?” Virgil managed a nod. “Welcome. I won’t be back until tonight, but Patton works from home, so he should be able to help you settle in.”

“Mister, your schedule is self-imposed,” Patton said with a scowl. “You’re eating breakfast! I know you won’t actually grab something on the way. Do you think I’m stupid?”

The smallest of flinches tensed Logan’s shoulders. “Of course not.”

Patton scraped the burnt bacon into the trash. “Ro, set the table for me, love? Logan, show Verge to his room and get cleaned up for breakfast.”

Logan pursed his lips and nodded. “Come with me.”

Virgil followed Logan into his room. It was bare, walls empty and carpet vacuumed. There was a mattress and a desk with no chair.

“We wanted to get you started with more, coming from the shelter and all that, but we’ve been short on rent the last couple months so we could only spare so much.”

Virgil was shaking his head before Logan finished talking. “It’s everything I need. Thank- Thank you.”

Logan glanced at him from the side of his eyes. “No trouble at all, Virgil.”

Logan left. Virgil shrugged his backpack off and set it on the mattress. It was covered in what was clearly spare blankets, and a dirty pillow without a case. It was both so much less and so much more than what he left behind. It was his.

From his backpack, he pulled out two t-shirts, a pair of jeans, a sleep shirt, a teddy bear, a stress ball, and a bag of cash. This was all he owned. It was all he needed.

“Virgil! Breakfast is getting cold!”

He shook off the panic crawling up his spine with the realization that he did nothing to help. He just got here— How was he meant to help?

He steeled himself, forced up a scowl, and headed into the kitchen. He fought not to melt at the amazing smell coming from the stack of pancakes, warm bacon, and hot coffee from the table.

“Coffee, Virgil?” Roman asked as he poured Logan some.

“Uh, sure.” He refused to admit he’d never had any before. “Thank you.”

“Milk and sugar’s by the bacon!” Patton handed out napkins and took his head.

“I’m fine,” he mumbled. He wrapped his stiff fingers around the hot ceramic and pulled it close to his face. It smelled like hazelnut and vanilla.

Don’t cry.

Don’t let them see you cry.

“So, Virgil,” Roman said after downing half of his coffee, “Patton’s been talking about you nonstop, but we still don’t know anything about you.”

Virgil hummed noncommittedly, not sure how to answer. All the eyes on him made him want to crawl out of his skin.

“Don’t be invasive,” Logan mumbled. He cut his pancakes into perfect squares, piling up the round edges on his fork and dropping them onto Patton’s plate. Patton immediately soaked them in syrup. “He doesn’t have to talk about anything he doesn’t want to.”

Roman pouted. “I know that! But, well, he can at least tell us what job he plans on getting.” He peeked at Virgil nervously. “Right?”

Virgil’s heart was in his throat. Was he supposed to know that already? What jobs were even available in the city?

“Roman.” Patton gave him a look.

Roman huffed and continued eating. “Well, if you’re stuck, the theatre is always hiring for the crew. We can’t get anyone to stick around that long.” His eyes widened. “Not that it’s a bad job! We just don’t really have enough money to pay more than minimum wage, and there’re limited hours. You can volunteer more time if you want, but we wouldn’t be able to pay for it.”

Patton dumped approximately half a cup of sugar into his mug and stirred it with a child’s spoon, a frog at the end of the handle. “How about this: Virgil, would you want to walk around the city with me later? I have a few orders to finish up and then I gotta drop them off, so I’ll be walking around for a few hours. We’re sure to pass tons of help wanted signs, and we’ll see if anything pops out at you. If nothing does, maybe you’d want to go to the theatre with Roman tomorrow and see if you like it better there.”

Virgil nodded slowly. “Sure. Yeah, I can do that.”

They finished eating, Virgil silent while the others engaged freely. Roman was louder than Virgil appreciated, constantly making Virgil flinch or go into defence mode. Logan occasionally noticed and gave him a small nod, or an eye roll in Roman’s direction, and it almost made Virgil feel better.

Logan hurried out the first chance he got, claiming that he was behind on schedule and he really needed to get to the library. Roman was out shortly after, declaring something about the play they’re doing that Virgil couldn’t understand as much as he tried.

On autopilot, Virgil picked up all the dishes and balanced it all in his arms. Patton looked at him in surprise as he carried them to the sink.

“Wow, that’s- That’s impressive!” He laughed. “But you don’t have to do that!”

Virgil’s face heated up as his actions caught up with him. He scrambled for the upper hand, “Yeah, I drop in short on rent, don’t help cook, eat my share, and I don’t have a job to get to, but sure, I’ll go fuck off and you can do them.”

Patton’s giggling surprised him. “Well, I won’t complain! Thanks, Verge! I’ll just get started on my orders.”

He pulled out the flour, sugar, and other baking supplies while Virgil washed the dishes. When he finished drying and putting them away, he went to leave, when Patton stopped him.

“Oh, Verge!” Patton smiled sheepishly, his fingers covered in sticky cookie dough. “Could you grab the chocolate chips for me before you go?”

“Uh- Sure.” Virgil found the bag with Patton’s direction and poured them into the bowl until Patton said. “Anything else I can do for you?”

Patton looked at him in surprise. “Well, if you really don’t mind, I’m going to have to use the bowl and other stuff again right after I get the cookies in the oven. Would you mind washing those, too?”

He didn’t have anything better to do, and he wasn’t even paying the full rent. “Sure.”

He got those washed up, too, and once again asked if Patton needed anything else. He ended up helping Patton through the rest of his orders, getting powdered sugar and flour and cinnamon all over his clothes and hair. He knew more about baking than Patton had expected— Much to Patton’s delight.

“Okay,” Patton said once all the treats were packaged up in pastel boxes, “I’m going to go clean up, and then I’ll be ready.” He threw his arms around Virgil, who flinched, but found his arms wrapping back around him. Patton squeezed him and buried his face in Virgil’s sweaty neck. “Welcome home, Virgil.”

And then he’d skipped back into his room, door shutting behind him. And Virgil was left alone with the butterflies in his stomach.

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onceuponastory · 4 years

Text

Coming Back Home Chapter One: Hometown (Nick x Y/N)

Plot: Six years ago, Y/N left her hometown and all its bad memories behind, and never looked back. But now, she’s come back to be the maid of honour in her sister’s wedding. Returning ‘home’ means she has to confront her past, the last thing she wants to do. When she meets the handsome best man Nick, she feels more comfortable...until her sister asks her to show Nick around town...a town that Y/N fell out of love with a long time ago.

Can Y/N fall back in love with the town she left behind, and maybe find love of her own along the way? Important: This story is based on a prompt by @orphicodysseywrites. It’s a mix of prompts one and two from this post, so full credit for this idea goes to them! Warnings: None A/N: My first fic based on one of Dacre’s characters! I hope you all enjoy it. I’ve checked it for spelling issues and stuff like that. However, I’ve been working really hard on this, and working in real life, so I may have missed some issues. In that case, if you see any issues, no you didn’t, lmao. Also, although this fic has Nick in it, it has no spoilers for The Broken Hearts Gallery! To be honest, Nick is in this just because the plot fits him the best! let’s be honest, this prompt does not fit Billy lmaooo

Special thanks goes to my best friend Jo, aka @thesundrop, who made this banner, and helped so much with planning this fic. Some of you may know her as @staticscreenwriting, where she writes Billy fics. Check them out, they’re amazing!

Disclaimer: I don’t own Nick or his character! Like I said, I just used Nick bc he’s the only character of Dacre’s that fits this prompt. Again, aside from Nick being in this, this fic has NOTHING to do with The Broken Hearts Gallery. But you should all go see the movie because it’s adorable!

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we are about to begin our descent towards the airport. Please place all tray tables and seats in the upright position, stow away any laptops or other electrical equipment, and remain in your seats with your seatbelts fastened.” The flight attendant chirpily announces over the intercom, and I let out the sigh I didn’t even know I was holding. In a short while, I’d be on my way back to Saint Chase, the place I thought I’d never set foot in again. I had left that place behind years ago and moved to New York City, hoping that the bad memories from that town didn’t follow me there. And for the most part, they didn’t. However, since my younger sister was getting married there in three weeks, and I was the maid of honour, I obviously couldn’t turn it down. I love my sister, of course I do, and of course I wanted to see her again and take part in such a special moment of her life...I just wish she’d picked somewhere else to get married. Sooner than I’d have liked, the plane lands, and after collecting my luggage, I walk into arrivals. I don’t even have to look around the room before I hear:

“Y/N!!! Hi!” My younger sister Katie calls across to me. She bounds up to me and wraps her arms around me before I can even react. I immediately smell her fruity perfume. It smells familiar. It smells like home. “How was your flight? I hope it was good. I thought we were going to be late getting here, but thankfully traffic wasn’t too bad.” She continues chattering away, and I smile. Katie was a ball of energy in a 5′4 tall body, and that’s partly why I love her so much.

“Katie. Breathe.” I giggle, and she stops.

“Sorry! I know I get carried away sometimes. Anyway, you remember Adam, right? He-”

“Yes, Katie, I remember your fiancé. The same fiancé that you’re getting married to in three weeks.” I tease, and she flashes pink. “Hi, Adam.” I hold out my hand for a handshake, but he pulls me into a hug too.

“Come on Y/N.” He tells me, giving me a warm smile. “We’re almost family, you can give me a hug.” Weirdly, hugging Adam felt like home too. As they both lead me out of the airport towards their car, holding hands and chatting the entire way, I can’t help but smile. They really were perfect for each other. They were the typical high school sweethearts, who had been together since they met seven years ago. And now here they were, about to get married. I used to think true love, that sappy kind in movies where the guy is so squeaky clean that there’s nothing wrong with him, and who’d drop everything for the girl he loves didn’t exist (and the boyfriends I’d had over the years definitely helped me believe that). But when I saw how happy Katie was with Adam, how she gushed about him constantly, and just how happiness beamed out of her every time she was near him or talking about him, I began to realise that maybe that kind of love did exist after all. If only I could find it.

~~~

“We’re almost here, girls.” Adam announces, and I feel my stomach turning into knots. Is it too late to leap out of the car and make a run for it? But then I see Katie’s face in the rearview mirror, and I know I can’t do that to her. So I grimace and say how wonderful being so close is instead.

“So, are the three of us staying in the hotel then?” I ask, taking a gulp of my tea. I was going to book a room there myself, but Katie and Adam had told me they’d take care of accommodation, and despite my initial misgivings, I decided to trust my sister.

“Well, we actually have a surprise...” Katie begins. “We’ve done up Nana’s house, and that’s where we’ll be staying! Isn’t it great? It’s going to be such a great bonding experience!” I almost choke on my tea. Maybe I should’ve listened to my gut and just booked into the hotel after all.

“Wh-What?” I ask, spluttering a little.

“Yeah, Adam and I thought about it, and we thought it would be better. I mean, it’s cheaper for a start, and it’s so nostalgic! Getting married in the town Adam and I grew up in and staying in the house you and I grew up in!” She squeals excitedly.

“Katie, no...I didn’t even-”

“Ooh, we’re here!” Katie cuts me off and looks out her window. “Look! There’s the diner! And the library! Remember when Nana used to read to us there every day after school? Aw, it was so cute.” She grins, and I sit back in my seat, trying to avoid glancing out of the window. “And there’s the bakery! They’re making the cake for our wedding, so I know it’ll be sublime. Y/N, remember those chocolate cupcakes they have? So good right? Oooh, we should get some later for dessert babe!” She tells Adam, who nods. I should’ve known that we’d be staying in Nana’s old house. But typical me seemed to block that part out with every other thing I wanted to forget about this town. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice the buildings of the town begin to fade away and become replaced by pine trees. Nana’s house was on the outskirts of town, before the forest, so I knew that we were close.

After a few more minutes, the car turns, and I hear the sound of gravel crunching beneath the wheels. Nana’s house had a gravel drive, so it was obvious that we had arrived. The car stops, and we all get out. Nana’s house looked almost the same as it did when I left four years ago. The roses around the door were still there, as well as all the lavender bushes in her front garden. All that looked different was the colour of the front door. Katie did a good job. The house still looked like something out of a fairytale storybook, somewhere where seven dwarves or three bears could live comfortably for many years...or maybe where a grandmother raised her two granddaughters. But how familiar the house looked did little to quell my unwillingness to stay there.

“Good to be back, right?” Adam asks, giving me a smile. Trying to avoid showing my unhappiness, I nod and force a small smile. Thankfully, Adam doesn’t seem to notice. He walks up to Katie, picks her up, and carries her over the threshold of the house.

“No! Adam! You’re meant to do this AFTER we get married!” Katie giggles and squeals, squirming about in Adam’s arms. “Y/N, help!” she calls, disappearing into the house.

“Sorry, Katie, you’re on your own!” I call back. And then, I’m alone, staring up at the house where I spent most of my life...and where I swore I’d never go again. A cold chill spreads across my body, and I can’t tell if it’s the wind or my nerves.

It’s going to be a long three weeks.

~~~

A Few Hours Later

I was settled into my old bedroom from when I was younger, and was laying on my bed, scrolling through my phone. Suddenly: “Knock knoooock!” A sing-song voice sounds from the other side of my bedroom door.

“Come in, Katie.”

“Aw, how’d you know it was me?” Chuckling, I open the door. Katie stands there, pouting.

“Well for a start, that’s what you did when we were kids, and you wanted to show me something...and you did it when we were teenagers too. I’m your big sister Katie. I know you.”

“You’re only two years older than me!”

“That still makes me smarter than you.” I tease, winking. Sighing, Katie laughs.

“Yeah, you’re right. I can’t get anything past you, can I?”

“Nope! Anyway, what’s up?”

“Nick’s almost here. We’re all going to pick him up from the train station and get dinner, so you two can get to know each other before the rehearsal dinner and the wedding. Ah, it’s going to be great!” She squeals excitedly. Meanwhile, I’m just confused.

“...Nick?”

“Y/N.” Katie is suddenly more serious, which is totally unlike her. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten who Nick is!” My blank stare makes her sigh. “You know, Nick!” She stresses his name like I should know it, and like I’ve committed a felony by forgetting it. But nothing springs to mind, so I stay silent. Katie huffs. “Nick is Adam’s best man. They met in college. They were roommates. He’s coming down early to help set up, and so you two can get to know each other. Sounds like you two getting to know each other is desperately needed.”

“Oh...right.” I respond, and she rolls her eyes. It was quite strange, seeing my ordinarily happy and energetic sister be so serious.

“Anyway, he’s going to be here soon, so you better get ready. And remember, you two are important parts of this wedding, AND you two are dancing together too, so please be nice to him.”

“Well, there go my plans to punch him in the face as soon as I meet him.” I joke.

“Y/N!” Katie whines. “That’s not funny! It’s my wedding at stake!”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.” I give her a hug. “I love you. I know how important this is to you. I won’t let anything bad happen. I promise.”

“Thanks sis.” Katie replies. “Anyway, come on, we’re leaving in ten minutes.” She orders, walking towards the door.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Oh! I forgot to tell you! Nick’s going to be staying here too, so you’ll be seeing each other a lot more!” She announces happily.

“...He’s WHAT?!”

~~~

The sounds of the radio fill the car as the three of us sit in silence. I think the song they’re playing is by ABBA....or maybe Fleetwood Mac. Actually, I wasn’t really paying attention to whatever song was playing. Shocking, I know. Instead, I was sitting tapping my leg, waiting to see if I could notice Nick. Nick. The man I thought I would just be dancing with at my sister’s wedding, and making pleasant conversation with, not sharing a space with for the next three weeks. I love my sister, I honestly do...but god, I wish she’d tell me things in advance sometimes.

But that’s who Katie is. She’s spontaneous, I’m not. She’s an extrovert, and I’m the introvert. She’s wild and fun...and I’m boring. In some ways, we’re polar opposites of each other. But that also draws us closer together. Yes, aside from our genetics, we weren’t that alike...but we were still sisters, and the best of friends.

“There he is! I see him!” Katie pipes up excitedly, cutting off my thoughts. She and Adam immediately get out of the car and start waving him over, leaving me in the backseat. Immediately my cheeks flush. Oh god, he’s going to have to sit next to me, isn’t he? Shit. I glance out of the window and see Nick is close by. Sighing, I decide I better get out and greet him. If I was going to be spending three weeks living with him, I better make a good first impression.

“Hi Katie!” His voice greets her, and he pulls her into a hug. “I’ve not seen you in forever!”

“I saw you like two weeks ago!” She giggles. Nick then turns to Adam, and greets him. I stand back a little, watching them. The three of them look happy and natural together. Like a proper family. While I feel like the one who doesn’t belong. The puzzle piece that doesn’t fit into this happy family dynamic. Of course, I couldn’t tell Katie that, that would make her feel even more worried, and she didn’t deserve this stress. Not now. I take a deep breath. All I need to do is make it through these three weeks until the wedding. “Nick.” Katie begins, gesturing towards me. “This is my sister Y/N, the maid of honour!” Deep breaths Y/N. You can do this. It’s just a guy. After all, it’s not like he’s a Greek God or something. And then he turns around.

His blue eyes sparkle, and he grins. “So this is the girl I’m going to dance with, huh?” He holds out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Nick.”

Oh my god, he’s gorgeous. What I said about him not being a Greek God? I was wrong. He looks better than that. Oh god, I’m so fucked. Oh god, he’s staring at me, and I haven’t said anything to him. I quickly grab his hand and shake it. Hopefully he doesn’t notice my sweaty palms.

“It’s nice to meet you, Nick.” I flash a smile, hoping to every god there is that I don’t have lipstick or food on my teeth.

“I’ve heard so much about you!” I...wish I could say the same. Katie really needs to tell me things in advance...including whether or not her fiancé hangs out with Greek God lookalikes.

“All good, I hope!” I chuckle awkwardly. Nick smiles again.

“All great things.” The two of us stand there, just staring at each other. Katie’s voice calls over:

“Come on, you two, I’m starving! Stop eyeballing each other and get in the car!” My eyes go slightly wide, and I quickly get into the car, desperate not to make a fool of myself, even if it seemed Katie was trying to.

“Oh, sorry Nick. Just move my bag and jacket from your seat.” I tell him as he opens his door. “Actually, just pass them over here.” He passes them over, and as I reach out to take them, our hands brush against each other. Shivers run up my spine. This isn’t normal, right? No, it isn’t. You don’t usually feel shivers up your spine when you brush hands with people you just met. That usually means something deeper....right? Nick gets in beside me, and I’m immediately aware of the smell of his cologne. He smells great. Like...really great. God, this man really is the full package, huh? Adam sets off, and I settle back into my seat, trying not to make eye contact with anyone.

“So, what’s Saint Chase like?” I hear Nick ask, causing me to look back up at him. “I’ve never been here before, so I was just wondering, like, is there any fun things to do, or any good memories? I know you and Katie grew up here, so...” He seems genuinely interested, and I have no idea what to tell him. I mean, what could I say? I’m guessing Katie didn’t tell him how desperate I was to get the hell out of the town as soon as I could.

“Well....” I begin. “To be honest, Nick, I’m not the best person to ask.” I admit. “I haven’t been back here in a while. You’d be better off asking Katie if you need a tour guide...sorry.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, Nick looks a little disappointed, but he doesn’t say anything regardless. I sink back into my seat again. I mean, it wasn’t like I lied...I genuinely don’t remember much about the town...or I had just tried to block out the memories so much, it actually worked.

After another agonising car journey, the car parks outside of Saint Chase’s diner. Again, like Nana’s house, it looked like nothing had changed from what I remembered. It was almost like the town was part of its’ own little universe, where the buildings and the people in it never grew up, and neither would you if you stayed there. Okay, maybe that was dramatic, but still.

Katie pushes open the door, and the woman behind the counter looks up as we walk in. Before any of us could say anything, the woman exclaims:

“OH! MY! GOD! Is that who I think it is?!” She quickly runs out from behind the counter, and up to Katie and I. “It is! It’s Rose’s granddaughters!” She pulls us both into a hug, giving us a tight squeeze. Pulling away, she looks us up and down. “Remember me? It’s Jane! God, I remember when your Grandma, god rest her soul, used to bring you in for breakfast every Saturday, ever since you were about this high Katie.” She points to her knee. Straightening back up, she looks us both over again. “Aw, you both look so much like your mother. Especially you, Y/N.” She smiles, causing a pang in my heart. She looks behind us, not noticing the sad expression on my face. “Ooooh! Are these the boyfriends?” She winks. “They’re gorgeous, good on you girls!”

“Well Jane, this is my fiancé Adam-” Katie begins, immediately getting squeals of delight, and congratulations in return. “And this is his best friend Nick, who’s the best man.”

“But we’re not dating.” I finish. Even if he was really gorgeous.

“Oh that’s right! I forgot you two are getting married here!” She sighs. “I’d forget my head if it wasn’t screwed on, honestly.” She steps closer to me, and her voice drops to a whisper. “But if you’re serious about not taking him honey, let me know, and I gladly will. He’s beautiful.” She gestures toward Nick. “Anyway! Let me get you four the best seats in the house. Follow me!” She orders, and the four of us do so. Jane leads us to a booth near the back of the diner and passes over some menus. “I’ll be right back to get you some drinks.” She grins.

“Well...she seems friendly!” Nick states, making us all laugh.

~~~

Later

“So anyway, Nick is completely drenched by this point. I mean, obviously, he had fallen into a pool.”

“Pushed. I was pushed.” Nick corrects, making Katie and I laugh. Adam was telling us stories of him and Nick in college, and I was feeling a lot more comfortable. Nick was hilarious, and he seemed really sweet. Maybe sharing a house with him for three weeks wouldn’t be so bad after all. “Anyway, that’s why I immediately pulled him into the pool with me, so he could know how it feels.” Nick finishes.

“Oh, you should’ve been there, babe. We both had white shirts on. Abs for days.” Adam tells Katie. God, of course Nick has abs. Wouldn’t expect anything else.

“Really? Maybe Y/N should’ve been there, she loves ab- ouch!” Katie begins, before I gently kick her in the shin. Adam and Nick look over, clearly concerned. “Sorry, just....bashed my leg on the table leg.” She lies, and I give her a pointed look, causing her to raise an eyebrow.

“Okaaaay...anyway, we’ve told a story about our college mishaps, how about one from you two?” Nick asks. Katie furrows her eyebrows for a moment, clearly deep in thought...and then her eyes light up. Oh no. Why do I have a feeling this will end badly for me?

“Did I ever tell you two about the time Y/N almost went to a midterm in her underwear?” And there it is.

“Nonononono, we don’t need to hear this story!” I gasp, my cheeks flushing red.

“Oh I think we do.” She winks, while I hide my face in my hands. And there goes my last shred of dignity. And with it, any hopes of having Nick see me as anything other than a total mess.

~~~

That Night

I was sitting on my bed, reading. Since we had gotten home from the diner, I had retreated upstairs, changed into my pyjamas and stayed there. Mainly because I was trying to avoid Nick, and any other potential forms of embarrassment before the wedding. Maybe I could just stay in there until the wedding? Sighing, I put my book down and lean back into my pillows. Not that I was paying much attention to the book anyway. Why was I like this? I mean, yeah, of course I didn’t want to embarrass myself, especially in front of a guy, but why was I going to such lengths for Nick? Why was I so hell-bent on not embarrassing myself in front of him? There must be something about him...something...different. Of course, he’s the best man to my maid of honour in my sister’s wedding, which is obviously part of it, but it felt like there was something more there. Something I didn’t understand. A knock at the door pulls me out of my thoughts.

“Katie, I hope you’re here to- oh!” I gasp when I see who is on the other side of the door. Nick stands there, dressed in a t-shirt and plaid pyjama pants. His hair was wet from a shower, and looked slightly curly.

“Hi.” He says, his voice slightly husky, causing the shivers from before to return.

“H-Hi, Nick.” I stammer. “What can I do for you?” He doesn’t answer me, and instead passes over a steaming mug.

“We made some tea, and I thought I’d bring you a mug.” He explains.

“Thanks.” I take a sip of the tea, immediately feeling its warmth pass through me.

“Are you feeling alright?” Nick asks. “You came up right after we got back from dinner, and you’ve been up here for a while, so I was wondering if you were okay.”

“Oh...yeah I’m fine, just tired from my flight.” I lie. Nick smiles and nods.

“Yeah I get that, I think it’ll be an early night for me too.” The two of us stand there for a minute, neither of us saying anything to the other. “Nice pyjamas by the way.” Nick breaks the silence, and I glance down at my Minnie Mouse pyjamas, immediately wishing I’d brought different ones.

“Thanks.” And then, back to silence. But in a way, it was a comfortable silence, one where we didn’t have to say anything to each other, and instead, just enjoy the company of each other.

“Well, I think I’m going to head off to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight Y/N.” He smiles. “It was really nice to meet you today.”

“Yeah, it was.” I smile back. “Goodnight Nick.”

~~~

The Next Day

“Morning sleepy head.” Katie says through a mouthful of toast as I walk into the kitchen.

“It’s 9am. This is early for me.”

“I know, I know. Just teasing.” She laughs.

“Anyway, what do you need me to do today? What still needs doing?” I ask, reaching down to grab a slice of toast.

“Hey!” Katie swats my hand away. “And about that...” She trails off. “I’ll tell you in a sec.” I hear the noise of someone coming downstairs. I don’t even have to question who it is, as I hear:

“Morning ladies.” His voice sounds huskier than it did last night. God, what is it with him?

“Hey Nick.” We reply. “Actually Nick, I need to speak to you and Y/N.” Katie tells him as I grab a glass of water. “Adam and I were talking last night, and we had an idea for some...special wedding tasks for you two.” I raise an eyebrow, and Nick gives me a questioning look. I shake my head, symbolising I have no idea what she means. Katie clears her throat. “We thought that Y/N should show you around town, Nick!” I almost choke on my water.

“What?” I gasp.

“Yeah, I mean, it gives you two the chance to get closer, which is going to be useful for the wedding.” She explains. “And it’ll help you to get to know the town again Y/N!”

“I mean, yeah, sounds good.” Nick nods. No, it doesn’t sound good. That sounds like everything I don’t want to happen. Nick was great, but I did not want to fall back in love with this town and remember all the memories I tried so hard to forget. But then, I look into the eyes of my baby sister, and I know I can’t break her heart. Especially not before her wedding. Even if it hurts me, I sigh and nod.

“Nick’s right. It sounds good.” Katie’s face lights up.

“Thanks guys!” She pulls us both into a hug. Now I definitely can’t break her heart and say no. “You two can start today.” She grins. “But don’t keep her out too late Nick, I need her back here to help make the centrepieces later.” She winks. “Have fun.” She whispers, heading upstairs.

“So...when do you wanna start?” I ask Nick.

“Well, if you want, we could go for a walk later today?” He offers.

“Sure. Just let me get some food and get ready, then we can head out.” I tell him, and he agrees, before also heading upstairs. And then, I’m alone.

Like I said before, It’s going to be a long three weeks.

#nick x reader #dacre montgomery fic #dacre montgomery fanfic #coming back home fic #dacre montgomery #dacre x reader

38 notes · View notes

creatively--challenged · 4 years

Text

Is It Time? // BestFriend! TH x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, teeny bit of angst, alcohol, underage drinking, smut, unprotected sex, and unbearable fluff x

Word Count: 11.7k

Summary: Tom is finally home and Y/N needs to tell him how she feels. She’s buried it for so long but it doesn’t want to stay buried any longer. Tom is finally home and he needs to tell her how her feels before he misses his chance and finds her unattainable.

Author’s Note: So, this ended up being way longer than I anticipated! It also took me a while to post since I’ve been so busy with work but I hope you all enjoy it! Please send all the good/constructive feedback! ♥

It had been months since you’d seen him. When you saw the text from Harry light up your phone, your face had lit up just as much and you immediately called your boss to book that day and the next off work. There was no way you’d miss it.

Tom was finally coming home for more than a day here or there, which he always spent with family, and he was throwing a little party on Friday in his shared house with the boys to celebrate the final wrapping of his new film, ‘Cherry’, with his friends. It had been a while since you had been in your best friends’ house, what with him off filming, Harry off gallivanting with him, Harrison being in Liverpool to film his own new project, and the other boys busy with their own lives and needless to say you were beginning to feel a bit lonely. Not that you didn’t have your own group of friends – you had been finally catching up with the girls since Tom wasn’t taking up all of your time – but you still missed your best friend and he was almost always too busy for more than a ten minute chat, not to mention the differences in time zones. Of course, it wasn’t all his fault, you were definitely guilty of neglecting your phone for hours on end and getting wrapped up in your writing as well as spending most nights and weekends working in a restaurant in the city.

As you pottered around your apartment, purposefully ignoring the mess your roommate, Anna, had left behind in her rush this morning – she could clean her own mess up when she got home – your phone buzzed from the coffee table in the living room. Scooping up the cup of tea you had made yourself and trying your best to speedily walk to the living room without spilling it, you saw Tom’s contact picture, a goofy selfie he had sent you from the set of ‘Far From Home’.

“Wow, you don’t even personally invite your best friend to parties anymore, you have your brother do it? Fame has changed you, Holland.” You can hear Tom chuckling down the phone.

“Oh, shut it! I told him I’d call you but he sent the text anyway, he’s almost as excited to see you as I am… almost.” His voice was raspy, as if he’d just woken up, and it just added to his attractiveness, the part of him you’d been trying to ignore for years. “You’re coming, aren’t you? I miss you so much I was even thinking of asking you to come get some lunch with me tomorrow before the party and we can grab whatever we need for the night while we’re out?” You beamed to yourself, but then mentally scolded yourself for thinking that it could be more than just a simple mate-date, strictly lunch with your best friend.

“Of course I am! Did you really think I’d miss it? Even took the Saturday off so I can be hungover and wallow. I’d love to meet you tomorrow, where and when?”

“I’ll pick you up at 1. Bring a night bag, we’re having a lazy day on Saturday. I gotta go, Tess is desperate for a walk but I’ll text you when I’m on my way tomorrow. See you then, love.”

You threw yourself onto the couch with an exaggerated sigh, smiling wistfully at the pet name he quite often called you. You and Tom had been friends for years, usually inseparable when he was home. You first met when you were about 16, he was 17. You had both snuck into a club with your respective friends, pretending to be of age and experience the dancing and drinking your older friends constantly ranted about come Monday morning, when you, very drunkenly, bumped into each other, knocking his drink all over the both of you. You apologised profusely but he had waved you off, brought you to the bar and grabbed a load of napkins to help wipe the beer off your dress as much as he could, all the while laughing giddily. You two became fast friends after that, spending the rest of the night non-stop chatting and swapping stories and found you had a lot in common with him. You could see your friends from across the room wiggling their eyebrows suggestively at the good looking boy in front of you but kissing a boy you just met in a club you weren’t supposed to be in just wasn’t how you wanted the night to go. Instead you swapped numbers and made plans to meet up for coffee the next day to talk when you could both hear each other clearly.

You had always thought he was cute, and as he got older you knew he was becoming more and more attractive. Not to mention, you knew he was the sweetest, caring, and most compassionate man there was but there was always that nagging in the back of your mind that said if something was supposed to happen between you two, it would have already. Besides, he had introduced you to Harrison with the intention of setting you up so it was clear there was no way Tom had mutual feelings for you. You were just supposed to be best friends, nothing more. So, you tried even harder to push the way you felt about him away and focused instead on being a friend, even dated Harrison for a few months before he had suggested you were better suited to being friends – story of your life, apparently – and while you were initially upset, you did agree with him.

Grudgingly, you got up from the couch and started to put yourself together for your shift that night. It was definitely going to be the longest shift of your life so far. Just as you were throwing your hair up into as neat a bun as you were going to get, Anna came breezing through the door. You greeted her cheerily as she set her things down on the kitchen table.

“Well you’re definitely in a better mood than you were when I woke you up this morning, is there someone else here?” She asked, peeking her head around you towards your bedroom door with a cheeky grin on her face.

“Give over, there’s no one else here. Tom is home, he’s having a party tomorrow night.”

“Ahhhh, that definitely explains the chirpy mood you’re in. Are you going to make a move?” She teased. Anna knew well what the situation was with your feelings for Tom and yet she relentlessly pushed you to tell him how you felt, even going so far as to make suggestive comments in front of both of you, especially when she’s had a few drinks, something you’d argued about in the past. Though she knew that your feelings for him were blooming again recently and that you find yourself losing yourself in daydreams about what could be more often than you had before and she was determined this time to make you confess to Tom.

“Ans, you know I’m not, he’s my best friend… However, I’m definitely feeling lonely so maybe if there’s someone that catches my eye I’ll have another reason to be in a chirpy mood,” you winked as you grabbed your bag and car keys, “anyway, I’m running. Text you when I’m on the way home and for the love of God can you please clean the mess you made this morning?” She hummed in response as you ran out the door and down the stairs of your flat.

You were running towards the train station, checking the time on your phone to make sure you weren’t going to miss the train, when a loud beep made you jump about 6 feet in the air, almost dropping your phone in the process. You turned quickly only to see Tom pulling in alongside you in his Audi, laughing wildly at your reaction. You scowl at him and quickly hop in the passenger side of the car.

“You ass! I almost died! What are you doing here?!” He’s still chuckling to himself as he leans across the seats to engulf you in a hug as best he can and place a soft, chaste kiss on your cheek.

“Hello to you too! Jesus, I’ve been away for months and the first thing I get is you calling me an ass? That’s no way to treat your best friend who’s about to drive you to work, is it?” He’s charming, and he knows it and he sends a wink your way before putting the car in drive and pulling out. Getting over your shock of seeing him, you feel a wave of admiration and love hit you for the man beside you and you gently rest your head on his shoulder as he drives.

“Thank you,” you laugh, “You didn’t have to drive me, I could have gotten the train! Although I admit this is so much better, I’ve missed you loads! How are you?”

He talks animatedly about his journey home from Morocco, explaining that he will tell you “all the good stuff” from the past few months over lunch tomorrow. He confesses that his decision to surprise you with a lift to work came from him not being able to wait until tomorrow to see you after hearing your voice on the phone, a fact that melts your resolve to not tell him how you feel just a little. You listen to him talk about how proud he is of the work he’s put into ‘Cherry’ and how delighted he is with how it turned out, pausing to apologise for the lack of time he had to talk over the past while. All too quickly, he’s pulling up outside the restaurant and you let out a heavy sigh. He turns to you and there’s a sympathetic smile on his face.

“Hey, in no time your writing will take off and you’ll get the satisfaction of handing in your notice here. Plus, you’ll have me for the next two whole days AND I’ll be home for the next few weeks too!”

You nod at him and put on a smile as you pick your bag up from your feet, “Yeah I know. Thanks so much, Tom. I’m so glad you’re home.” You reach across the car and wrap one arm around him, he does the same and places another quick kiss to your cheek. “See you tomorrow, let me know when you’re picking me up!” You get out of the car, sending him one last quick smile before going into the restaurant and beginning your countdown to the end of your shift.

* * * *

Tom smiled to himself as he drove to the train station to pick Harrison up. He was just getting in from Liverpool for the weekend, perfect timing to have a break in shooting. He had meant it when he said he missed you. He had wanted to call you every single time he had a break in filming but had to stop himself. You were his best friend, not his girlfriend. He didn’t call Harrison or Tuwaine every time he had a break so why would you expect him to call you? You wouldn’t. You didn’t think of him that way and he knew it. He had always wanted more, since you knocked his pint over both of them and you met up for coffee the next day. He was too shy back then to tell you how he felt and then felt blessed enough just to call you his best friend that he definitely did not want to scare you away by telling you. He’d even tried to get over you and started dating other girls, though they never lasted long. They weren’t funny enough, didn’t laugh at his jokes like they were the funniest things in the world, they didn’t get along with his friends so well, they didn’t text him the morning of every audition he’d ever had to wish him good luck, or call him in the middle of the night when they felt lonely, they weren’t you. He’d set you up with Harrison, thinking that if you were unavailable, he’d learn to move on. And he did! For a little bit. It was easier to accept that you were just his best friend because you were good together, Harrison treated you well and you really enjoyed his company. Although, listening to you both in Harrison’s room after you’d come home from a date never got easier.

It was after one of those date nights that Harrison realised. He’d come down to the kitchen to make coffee and Tom was sitting at the counter on his phone, red rimmed eyes, loosely holding a cup of coffee that had long gone cold. He hadn’t expected Haz to be up so early and had planned on going to visit his parents as soon as he’d finished his coffee but he had been caught. Harrison hadn’t let up until Tom told him why he was upset and disregarded every bullshit answer Tom could make up on the spot. “You’re a great actor, Tom, but you can’t expect me to believe that. Don’t bullshit me.” So Tom’s floodgates burst and he told Harrison everything; how long he’s felt that way, why he set you up, how he felt at the time.

~ “You can’t keep torturing yourself like this, Tom. If I had have known you felt this way, I would never have asked her out!” Harrison eyed his heartbroken friend as he silently cried. He was debating what to do, he really liked you and you were getting on great, but he could tell straight away that he didn’t like you in the way that Tom did, not even close.

“No, Harrison, I know what you’re thinking. Don’t do it. Don’t hurt her just because I wasn’t man enough to tell her how I feel. That’s not fair.” Harrison then hugged him, told him not to worry, and walked back to you with coffee. ~

He had broken up the you the following week, telling you he thought you were better suited as friends, and he did believe that but he was also thinking of Tom and how heartbroken he had been that morning. Tom was ready to pick up the pieces when you told him Harrison had broken up with you but you were surprisingly okay? A little disappointed but you said you thought Harrison was right and it was that that lifted the guilt off Tom’s chest, while also instilling the slightest bit of hope in him. He still had a chance. Yet here he was 2 years later still pining after his best friend who still had no idea about his feelings.

Tom’s train of thought was broken when Harrison opened the boot of the car and threw his bags in before jumping into the passenger side of the car.

“Am I interrupting something? You look like you’ve been having an extreme internal debate.” He laughed as he cleaned the raindrops from the lenses of his glasses, shooting Tom a questioning glance, though Tom had a feeling Haz knew exactly what was plaguing his mind.

“Sorry, I was in a world of my own. How are you, man? How’s filming going?” Tom avoided Harrison’s questioning looks, which was duly noted by the blond man but he dropped the subject. Instead, Harrison talked relentlessly about his new project and how excited he was, before quizzing Tom on ‘Cherry’. The boys chatted back and forth about their careers and how their families were until they got back to the house. As soon as they walked through the door Harrison and Harry immediately engaged in a roasting match, going back and forth verbally tearing shreds off each other. Tom grabbed a beer from the fridge and threw himself on the sofa, watching the two with amusement until he was dragged into their play fighting and had to fend for himself. They continued like that for a while; roasting each other, playing a couple of games of Fifa, demolishing bottles of beer, until eventually Harrison put a movie on Netflix and settled down on the sofa beside Tom while Harry went to his room to edit some videos of their trip in Morocco.

“What is it? You’ve been off all day” Harrison asked without even taking his eyes off the screen. Tom shuffled uncomfortably and looked down.

“S’nothing. Just me being an idiot, as usual.” That was more than enough for Harrison to confirm that he was right about why Tom was off. He let a heavy sigh and turned to face his best friend.

“Look, mate, you need to stop being such a div and just tell her, yeah? Because this shit isn’t healthy for you or for your friendship. You have a chance here, she’s not going to be single forever and –“

“I know!” Tom snapped, a little too loudly. Harrison looked taken aback for a moment, then turned towards the tv and took a long drink from his bottle of beer. “I’m sorry, Haz. I shouldn’t have shouted. It’s just that… It’s all I’ve been thinking about the past couple of weeks. It comes and goes, y’know? Sometimes I can live perfectly content with having her as my best friend - other best friend”, he added when Harrison gave him a look, “- but since I’ve been away these past few weeks, I just can’t stop thinking about her. No amount of work can take my mind off it. I missed her so much it was almost palpable and the thought of her moving on with someone else makes me so angry at myself. I feel like I’m running out of time but I’m also terrified of saying something only for her to be absolutely horrified and ruin our entire friendship!” Tom hadn’t realised he was crying until he felt the tears drop from his chin onto the hand holding his beer.

“Tom, don’t you think if you keep these feelings to yourself it might ruin your friendship? Also, why do you think she’s stayed single all this time, same way you have? Maybe she feels the same? Maybe she’s holding out for you. Just… think about it, Tom. If you want this, take the chance. Either way, I’m going to bed. I need to get my beauty sleep if I’m gonna pull tomorrow night. Y/N’s roommate is coming and I’ve had my eye on her since I met her last year.” Harrison winked and Tom laughed at his attempt to flex his muscles.

“Alright, fuck off, you div. See you in the morning.” Harrison waved in response and began walking to his room. “Haz?” Tom heard his steps stop and saw his head poke around the corner, left eyebrow raised. “Thank you. For everything.” Haz shot him an award-winning smile.

“You’ve got nothing to thank me for, I’m here for you, mate. Goodnight.”

Tom sat by himself for a while, finishing his drinks and running through different scenarios in his head of how tomorrow could go. How he could tell you. He could say it over lunch, but then if you didn’t feel the same it would be awkward for the rest of the day and it there would be no way he could throw a party if it all went sideways. He could tell you at the party, but then you might think he was a coward for not telling you alone. He could tell you the next day, while you were just hanging out, but what if you hit it off with someone at the party and he misses his chance? He was working himself up into a panic again and decided to call it a night. He busied himself with cleaning the beer bottles from the living room, tidying the kitchen, and having a long shower to calm himself down, before climbing into bed and hoping that whatever he decided to do, he would still have you one way or another; either as his best friend or as someone who loved him as much as he loved you.

* * * * *

You woke up filled with a sense of dread. You’d had a nightmare and the more you thought about it the more you convinced yourself it was a premonition. Tom was definitely going to hook up with someone tonight. He was going to stand right in front of you and lean in to catch her lips in a kiss so intense and shameless that you would have to look away to avoid throwing whatever drink you were holding at the two of them. Then, when you look back, they would look at you and sneer, laughing at how fucking pathetic you were and you’ll see him leading her by the hand towards his bedroom, towards his bed. It’s going to happen; your mind’s eye has foretold it.

You roll out of bed and trudge towards the kitchen. Anna is already there, scrolling through her phone and pushing a cup of tea in your direction.

“I was just about to call you. Hey, would you mind if I tried it on with Harrison tonight? I know you two had a thing but he’s really hot and you guys are just friends now, right?” You held up a hand and took a long sip of your tea, eyeing her over the top of your mug. She stopped scrolling and looked at you expectantly. “Bad night?” You sighed contentedly and lowered your hand.

“I really needed that tea, thank you. Yes, bad night. Nightmares, to be precise.” She frowned, about to ask but you cut her off, “No, I don’t mind you trying it with Harrison. He’s a great guy and you’re just his type. Just please, if you bring him home, keep it down. He has a tendency to be quite vocal.” Anna’s face went beet red and she choked on her green tea.

“Noted. Moving on, do you know what you’re wearing tonight?” She wiggled her eyebrows at you and you groaned. You were really not in the mood of her tactics of trying to get you and Tom together and you know that’s exactly where this conversation is going.

“I was thinking of just wearing my black skinny jeans and that green top I got 2 weeks ago? Maybe with black boots?” She rolled her eyes then shook her head at you.

“Any outfit that you say you’ll ‘just wear’ instantly isn’t good enough. No. You haven’t seen Tom properly in months! You have to wow him; you have to look so jaw-droppingly good that it’s not even a question in his mind. Why don’t you buy something new today while you’re in town?” You considered what she said as you scrolled through your Instagram. You supposed she was right; it was the first time you’d seen Tom in months, plus you hadn’t bought yourself a full new outfit for anything in a while.

“That’s not a bad idea… Do you need anything while I’m out?” You called out to her as she had started moving towards her bedroom.

“Maybe some condoms? Who knows which one of us will need them?” She said with a wink and a cheeky grin. You had to bite back your laughter just as your phone pinged. Tom was letting you know you had 30 minutes before he was coming to pick you up. You quickly rinsed your cup and sped to your room to shower and kind something decent to wear for your lunch date. Lunch mate-date. For mates.

“Table for two under Holland.” Tom spoke with a smile to the host of a very fancy brunch place in the city. If you had known Tom would take you somewhere like this you would have, at least, put on some makeup. As it was, you were wearing blue jeans, a white blouse, and low top Converse, and you had your still-damp hair thrown into a messy bun. Not the worst look but compared to the businesswomen around you in their 2-piece suits and elegant office dresses with heels you felt a bit out of place. But then, Tom was clad in just a hoodie, loose black jeans, and a baseball cap so maybe you didn’t look too bad.

“I didn’t realise you would take me somewhere so nice. I thought we were just grabbing lunch in a café or whatever?” You whispered to Tom as your waiter handed you a menu and poured your water.

“We are just grabbing lunch in a café or whatever,” he smirked, mocking you, “just wanted to treat you. This place does great French toast and they serve the freshest mimosas, my treat,” he told you with a wink.

He began looking through his own menu while you admired him from across the table. His hair had started to grow back after he’d shaved it off for his role in ‘Cherry’ and he had the slightest sprinkling of freckles across his nose; a gift from the Moroccan sun, no doubt. He looked happier than he did when you saw him before Christmas, when he had been losing weight dramatically and putting himself in the mindset of the complex lead role. You could clearly see, even through his hoodie, that he had been back at the gym since, the sleeves straining ever so slightly around the muscles in his arms and his frame looked wider than it had been.

“I’m afraid I’m not on the menu, darling.” Tom interrupted your train of thought without even a glance from his menu, though he had a cheeky smirk on his face. You scoffed in response and tried quickly to come up with an excuse as to why you were practically undressing him with your eyes.

“Come off it, I was just… I haven’t seen you in a while. That’s all.” You thought you saw his smile falter for a split second but then his attention was diverted and he was beaming at the waitress that had come to take your orders.

“I told you the French toast was incredible.” Tom smiled at you from across the table. He had been telling you all about the past couple of months filming. How rewarding it felt to branch away from the roles he had been doing previously and getting the opportunity to flex his acting skills. He was now listening to you recount your tale of the past few months; catching him up on the drama of your life and the progress you had made with your writing. You told him about a meeting you’d had with an editor and he swelled with pride at hearing you were chasing your dreams as well as he was.

He had thought before you had been subtly checking him out but he quickly shook the thought from his head when you’d brushed him off. He promised himself he’d tell you today but every time he tried to start the speech he had prepared on the drive to your house his stomach did flips and he felt slightly nauseous. Is this the right place? Is it time? He tried to focus on what you were saying again, he really had to get a hold on himself.

You had stopped talking and were now looking at him expectantly.

“Sorry, I completely zoned out. What was the question?” He laughed and you scowled at him playfully. “I’m sorry! You’re just so captivating,” he half joked, pretending to swoon.

“I suppose you’re off the hook, then,” You winked and his heart did another flip, “I was saying, when we’re shopping for stuff for the party I also need to find something to wear so I can do that while…”

“I’ll come with you; help you find something.” You paused as he interrupted you. He hadn’t meant to jump in so suddenly but the thought of you wearing something to the party that he had helped pick out for you sped his heart up a little bit.

“Better get a move on then, shouldn’t we?”

You left the car where it was and strolled from shop to shop idly picking up the things you needed for the night. You filled two trolleys full of beers, spirits, mixers, bags of Doritos, microwave popcorn, and anything else you might need. Tom had just filled the car up with the supplies when he looped an arm through yours and pulled you towards boutiques of women’s clothes and fancier looking stores.

“No, Tom, we’ll just head to th–“ Tom was already shaking his head and tugging on your arm with more insistence.

“Nope, my treat” was all he said. You knew by the look on his face that he wasn’t budging so you willingly went into the shop that looked far too expensive for you. You were idly admiring different dresses and outfits, still unsure about Tom spending so much money on you when he slid his hand into yours and pulled you around to face him.

“I want you to pick 5 outfits you like, without looking at the price tags and go try them on.” He held your gaze and didn’t look away or let go of your hand until you nodded. You sifted through the rails and shelves of clothes, holding some up to Tom for his approval and he’d give you thumbs up or down. A handful of times he would suggest something for you and you were surprised at just how good a sense for fashion the man had, for someone that usually only wore shades of black.

Eventually, you had the 5 things you liked and were on your way to the changing rooms to try them on. The first; skinny black jeans with rips in them and a cropped, burgundy jumper that wrapped around the back, exposing a lot of skin. You pulled back the curtain and twirled around for Tom to see. You both agreed that while it was a lovely outfit, it wasn’t apt for the blazing house party he had planned. You tried on the rest of your outfits; a flowy cream dress with buttons from the bosom to the hem, a strappy, black, sheer top with a black denim skirt, and an elegant, red jumpsuit that really accentuated your hips and your waist but the show stopper was the emerald green velvet dress you tried on last, the one Tom had picked out for you. The colour complimented your eyes and you skin tone perfectly, long sleeves to hold back the January chill and it came down to mid-thigh. You had paired it with black tights and high chunky heeled leather ankle boots which brought you almost to the same height as Tom. You stepped out and Tom didn’t say anything as he stared at your form. Your head tiled slightly and you opened your mouth to ask if it was too much when Tom’s eyes finally met yours.

“Yes. That’s the one. Wow. I- Wow.” You were blushing, you could feel it. You could also feel Tom’s eyes all over you, especially where the velvet fabric clung to your chest and your hips. You didn’t feel insecure or self-conscious though, the way you would when other men would stare at you the same way at a club.

“Definitely, I really love it!” You told him as you eyed yourself in the mirror one more time.

“Okay, go on, get dressed again and pass the other things out to me so I can put them back.” He told you and you obliged, changing back into your blouse and jeans and making your way over to the cashier with your chosen outfit where Tom was waiting. He took the clothes and passed them over the counter while you busied yourself with your phone, trying not to hear the amount the clothes came to so you wouldn’t have a heart attack, when you noticed you had a text from Anna.

Anna: Hey, how was your lunch? Did you tell him? Did you find something to wear? Is it hot?

You chuckled to yourself, typing a speedy reply, reminding her to behave later on and telling her about the outfit you’d picked out.

You looked up just as Tom thanked the cashier and took the bag from her. He beamed at you and you both walked back to the car, chatting animatedly about the night ahead. When you got to Tom’s house you had about an hour and a half to get ready before everyone started arriving so you shouted a quick ‘hello’ to Harrison and Harry who were arguing in the kitchen about what drinking games they should play before heading into Tom’s room to get ready for the night. Tom followed you in with more bags and you looked at him confusedly.

He placed them down on his bed and looked at you like he was in trouble

“They all looked so good, I couldn’t help but get them…” He said with a small smile as you slowly understood what he was saying. You stepped forward and peered into the bags he had set down. The other 4 outfits you had tried on were folded perfectly in the bag.

“Tom!? Why would you get them all?! Where’s the receipt? I need to know. You- Thank you, Tom, but you shouldn’t have!” He laughed slightly as you scrambled through the bag before he took your hands in his.

“It’s not in there – Stop Y/N!” He laughed, “I took it out already. Listen, I haven’t seen my bestest friend in months and I wanted to treat her. I never get to buy you anything and you know I can afford it so stop worrying. Plus, you can’t look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t love how you looked in all of them.” You eyed him faux-angrily but it didn’t last. You couldn’t help but break under his puppy-dog eyes.

“You’re a div. But, thank you. I don’t know what I’ll wear these outfits to but I love them, thank you.” He let go of your hands and mumbled about letting you get dressed. “Wait, Tom,” you suddenly remembered the nightmare you’d had the night before, still convinced it was a premonition, “where can I put my things when I’m done? You know… in case…Don’t wanna be interrupting anything to get my toothbrush in the morning” You gave an awkward chuckle and made a motion with your hands since Tom looked at you like you’d grown another head before realisation dawned on him.

“Oh! What? No, leave it here! There’s no one- I thought- Aren’t you staying here?” He asked and you thought there was a shadow of disappointment on his face.

“Oh, well sure I can but- Just in ca- Only if you’re su..-“

“I’m sure.” He cut you off and there was a twinge of annoyance in his face before it was gone and replaced by a small smile. “You always stay in my room after a party, why would that change?” You both stared at each other for a few moments, unsure of what to say before he broke eye contact and headed to the kitchen, shouting over his shoulder that he’d bring you a drink while you got ready.

You stepped into Tom’s shower in the adjoining bathroom and let the hot water run over you while you got your thoughts together. You knew Anna was going to cause some sort of trouble tonight, maybe even get Haz in on it, and you knew she was right to. You were just hurting yourself by trying to push how you felt away. Maybe if you just told him it would be easier? Even if he didn’t feel the same way, you were being honest with him and you could work out a way to keep being best friends. Would that work? Or would he just start avoiding you until you were just strangers. You huffed in frustration, stepping out of the shower and wrapping yourself in a fluffy towel. You waltzed out into the bedroom and saw that Tom had left a Gin and Tonic on his dresser for you, you smiled and took a sip before getting to work on your hair.

Just as you were halfway though the process of putting on makeup Tom stepped into the room.

“Hey, you mind if I start showering and whatnot? I’ll knock before I come out of the bathroom in case you’re getting changed.” He was standing at his wardrobe, pulling out different coloured articles of clothing before pulling out black jeans, a black t-shirt, and black studded jacket. You laughed under your breath at his ‘daring’ choice of colour as he was heading for the bathroom and shutting the door.

You continued getting ready, finishing your makeup and donning your new outfit before spraying a bit of hairspray to keep your waves in place. You had about 15 minutes before guests started arriving and you were just zipping up your boots when Tom came out of the shower, t-shirt straining against his muscles, jacket in hand, and stopped dead, watching you stand up to adjust the neckline of your dress.

“I thought you were going to knock.” You said teasingly. He made an ‘O’ with his mouth and put his hand over his eyes.

“I’m so sorry! I was in a world of my own and completely forgot. You look incredible, darling.”

“Not too bad, yourself.” You told him. He seemed to be deliberating something for a minute. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times and you looked at him expectantly before he seemed to decide against what he was going to say.

“Shall we?” He mocked in a goofy accent and you took his arm that he had proffered for you. As you walked into the kitchen you heard a loud wolf whistle come from Tuwaine who was already about 4 bottles of beer down.

“Damn, Y/N. You’re looking well! Who’s the lucky guy?” He asked with a wink and you felt the blush creeping up your neck, causing him and the other boys to laugh. With the exception of Tom, you failed to notice, who gave Tuwaine a hard, disapproving look that he simply waved off.

Just then the front door opened and Anna came strutting in, looking like a model as usual with her strawberry blonde waves falling down around her shoulders, long legs that went on for days, and perfect little figure, with Harrison hot on her heels. She quickly engulfed you in a hug as Harrison gave you a nod and a smile.

“You look incredible! Did Tom have anything to do with that outfit?!” She asked lowly so the boys wouldn’t hear.

“More like everything! He wouldn’t even let me pay for it or the other outfits I liked!” Her eyes widened and mischievous smile appeared on her face.

“Well, now I know I was definitely right about how he feels,” she winked obnoxiously at you, “Haz picked me up! I was about to order a taxi when I got a text to say he was outside. Such a gent! Has he said anything? Do you think you could find out what his intentions are? Would that be weird? Thank you so much for giving me your blessing!” She whispered at a million miles an hour. Once you might have found it hard to keep up with the sheer amount of questions she asked in one breath and how quickly she jumped from topic to topic but now that you were used to her you laughed and waved her off for the most part.

“I’ll subtly talk to him as long as you promise not to say a word to Tom about me, deal?” You held out your pinky. She eyed you narrowly but eventually she took it in hers and let out an exasperated sigh to show you she wasn’t happy with it, but it was a deal.

Soon enough, the party was in full swing. The front door had opened and closed about a dozen times, spilling people you hadn’t seen in ages, and some you had, into the house. You weaved in and out of conversations, catching up with friends and introducing yourself to a couple of people you didn’t know. Your hand was never without a drink in it, whether it was Tom handing you a goblet of Gin & Tonic with a soft “Here ya go, darling”, or one of the twins keeping you topped up without you even noticing, or Anna insisting you two did shots of whatever looked like it would fuck you up the most – you had managed to fake taking most of those shots and she was already fairly tipsy so she had yet to notice.

It was close to 11pm when you caught Harrison standing alone on his phone in the kitchen. You sidled over to him and bumped your shoulder into his. You two had drifted slightly after the breakup, feeling a bit awkward around each other but after a while things went back to the way they were before you dated and he ended up being another one of your closest friends.

“Whatcha doing?” You asked him and he smiled at you. His eyes fleeted around the room for a second before landing on Anna who was dancing goofily with Harry.

“Trying to get my act together and ask her out. Every time I try and think of what to say I end up sounding like an idiot in my head.” He groaned and rubs a hand over his face. You gave him a sympathetic look and threw your arm around his shoulders.

“You never had any trouble asking me out, did I not make you nervous enough?” You put your hand on your chest, feigning offense, and he laughed loudly at you.

“Come off it, you might not have thought I had trouble but believe me, I did.” His eyes caught something across the room and he coughed slightly and took a step back from you while turning his body towards you. “So, do you think I have a chance?” You glanced around the room to see what had caught his eye but all you could see was Anna now begging Tuwaine to dance with her and Tom talking closely to a girl you didn’t quite recognise, something that narrowed your eyes slightly and forced a small frown on your face, which Harrison did not fail to notice.

“Yeah, definitely. You should go for it, ask her out. You two would be great together.” You mumbled to him distractedly, finally tearing your eyes away from Tom and the mystery woman. Harrison was looking at you with concern etched across his face, no longer worried about Anna.

“Y/N? Everything okay?.” You forced a smile onto your face and nodded too quickly. You turned towards the counter and began refilling your drink while trying desperately to dismiss all thoughts of the nightmare you’d had the night before. It couldn’t actually happen, could it? He did say that he wasn’t bringing anyone to his room that night… What if he’d changed his mind?

“Y/N. You need to talk to him.” Your eyes snapped to Harrison who had a kind yet worried smile on his face. “This isn’t good for either of you.”

You gasped, “You know?!” He laughed slightly and nodded. “How long?!” You were slightly worried. If he had known, was that the real reason you broke up?

“Have for a while. I kind of always thought it but was never sure.” He smiled at you and then when he saw your horrified expression he rushed to explain, “That’s not why we… y’know? You were amazing and I didn’t think badly of you. I genuinely did, and do, think we are better as friends!” It was your turn to laugh as you put a hand on his shoulder.

“Good, because you weren’t just a second choice, Haz, I did really like you. But you are also right, we’re much better as friends. Friends that can be each other’s wingmen?” He laughed loudly again and nodded enthusiastically.

“Absolutely! Now, how do I ask Anna out?”

Tom had been bouncing from person to person, catching up on their antics while he was away and he was having the time of his life. He had been sneaking glances at you all night and you also looked like you were having a great night. He was beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol in his system, a lot faster than he used to as a result of having not drank in a while with how busy he’s been. Haz had cornered him in the kitchen while you were getting ready and quizzed him about your lunch together. After telling Haz he didn’t tell you about how he felt, Haz had made him promise he’d tell you tonight and so that’s what he’d do. A little bit of Dutch courage in him made him feel a bit more confident in how things would go after he told you. He supposed he had better tell you before either of you were too far under the influence of alcohol but you looked like you were having such a good time and he didn’t know when the right time was to interrupt and tell you.

Just as he had decided to go for it, a familiar face appeared in front of him. One he hadn’t seen in a long while, so long that he almost didn’t recognise her, not to mention her once short, blonde hair was now long and a deep brown colour.

“Hi Tom, long time no see. You know, every time I see you it’s like you get better looking.” Sophia, the last girl he had dated, about a year and a half ago, before he had caught her in the lap of another man while they were out on Tom’s birthday and swiftly told her to get lost. He had been getting annoyed by her before that anyway, she treated Y/N like absolute shit, wasn’t interested in getting to know his brothers, and when she thought he couldn’t see her, she rolled her eyes whenever he made a joke. However, he would be calm and polite to her now. Nothing was going to ruin his mood.

“Sophia, hi. How’ve you been? I didn’t know you were coming tonight.” He smiled as warmly as he could, while looking around her to see that Y/N hadn’t moved. Sophia moved in front of his view again, tossing her long brunette hair over her shoulder.

“I’m here with Jack, we’ve been seeing each other and he invited me along. We’re not exclusive yet though.” She added with a wink as she ran her hand along his arm. His insides squirmed at the action and his temper flared a tiny bit, though he kept his face civil and polite.

As he thought of a way to get away from her, he heard a loud laugh from the other side of the room. He glanced towards the kitchen and saw that you had your arm thrown around Harrison, the two of you standing close to each other in conversation, laughing at something between the two of you. Haz caught his eye and Tom couldn’t help the hard, unimpressed look he shot him. Jealousy was a raging storm inside him and he couldn’t for the life of him think rationally. Sophia had watched the interaction and instantly began beaming, a sly glint in her eye. She stepped in closer to Tom and drew his attention back to her, hand delicately placed on his chest.

“I’ve really missed you, you know. I really hate myself for letting you go.” She drawled, trailing his hand along his chest, dipping lower and lower, while the other hand circled his bicep. His temper flared and suddenly he was seeing red.

“Get your hands off me and get out of my house. You really think you even have a sliver of chance after what you did? And now you’re trying it again when the guy you’re seeing is sitting not 10 feet away? Pathetic.” He ripped his arm from her grasp, grabbed another drink from the kitchen table, and stalked out of the room in a rage. He sat in his room, calming himself down and taking long gulps from his drink. He knew in the back of his mind that Harrison would never go behind his back and that you two were just friends but he just couldn’t get the idea out of his head that you still had feelings for Harrison.

There was a light knock on the door which Tom decided to ignore. The door opened slowly, and a mass of strawberry blonde waves popped around it. Anna hesitated in the doorway, head around the door as her eyes fell on Tom sitting on the floor against the wall, taking steady swigs from his drink. He raised his eyebrows are her in question and, in response, she held up two shot glasses in one hand and a bottle of tequila in the other. She got a small smile out of him as he motioned for her to sit beside him.

“I saw what happened back there with Sophia and when you didn’t come back out to the party after 15 minutes I decided to bring the party to you.” She beamed at him while handing him a shot of tequila. He chuckled lightly and took the drink from her eagerly. “She’s a real piece of work. Though, I didn’t think you cared enough about her to let her upset you.”

“I don’t.” He grimaced as the shot went down his throat. “She pissed me off, yeah, but… That’s not why…” He let out a long sigh. “Y/N’s not interested in Haz, is she?” He nibbled on his bottom lip and kept his gaze to the ground until Anna burst out laughing and Tom looked at her in utter confusion.

“I’d hope not if she gave me the green light to get with him! No, she’s not interested in Haz, she’s currently putting a good word in for me with him.” She laughed and downed another shot, Tom followed her lead. His hopes that had been shot were now recovering and he started to feel eager to speak to you as soon as possible.

“I have to talk to her… It’s definitely time to tell her how I feel.” He started as he moved to stand up.

“Tell who how you feel?” Your head popped around the door that Anna had left ajar and suddenly Tom didn’t feel so confident anymore. As he got to his feet the room began to spin and the tequila mixed with the nerves in his stomach were not helping his current state. Anna’s eyes were as wide as saucers as she quickly scooped up the bottle of tequila and slipped out of the room as quickly as she could.

“You. Tell you.” Tom was frozen to the spot and words were beginning to fail him. The room was spinning faster and faster and his stomach did not feel so good. He tried to take deep breaths but that only made him feel worse. You were looking at him expectantly, maybe even hopefully? Or was that just his inebriated head giving him false hope?

“Tell me what, Tom? Are you okay?” You stepped forward and put your hand on his arm.

“Tell you… I feel sick…” Tom slurred. You furrowed your eyebrows at him and then watched his face blanch.

“Okay, let’s go. Come on.” You quickly guided him into the bathroom, half supporting his weight as he stumbled over his own feet. As soon as you got him into the bathroom the floodgates opened and Tom was heaving over the toilet; beer and tequila and whatever else he had drank being purged from his system. “Oh, you owe me big time.” You tried to rub his back while also not get sick yourself. When he was finished he turned around and sat on the tiles of the bathroom floor, regaining a bit of colour in his face. “Okay, get yourself cleaned up and I’ll be right back.” You told him, leaving to grab water and the pain killers he would inevitably need before he could protest.

When you got back to him, he was lying shirtless on his bed, clad only in a pair of sweatpants with his arm thrown over his eyes. You notice that he had cleaned himself and the bathroom up already. You giggled at the state he was in as you set the water down and one eye peeked out from under his arm, eyebrow raised, and the ghost of a smile on his face.

“What’s so funny? Are you laughing at me while I’m in this vulnerable state? I can’t believe you.” He whined which only increased your giggling. You set yourself down on the bed beside him and his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him.

“Tom, if you get sick on me I will kill you.” He sniggered and held you closer, burying his nose into your shoulder and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t 100% okay with this.

“I feel better now.” He told you, letting out a very content sigh.

You listened to his breathing getting deeper, slower. “Tom? Were you actually just going to tell me you felt sick?” You questioned. Your heart was pounding in your chest. Could you be right? Was he really going to say what you thought he was? Except, there was no answer from him, his breathing was deep and calm. He was fast asleep. “Because… Well, I was hoping you’d say something different. That maybe you’d tell me that the way you felt about me was more than a friendship… The way I feel about you…” You mumbled to yourself, slowly following his lead and drifting off to sleep.

Tom had chickened out. You gave him the perfect opportunity to tell you how he felt but instead he had pretended to be asleep but it didn’t matter anymore! You felt the same way! He fought hard to keep the smile off his face as he eventually drifted off to sleep.

Sunlight streamed in the window of Tom’s room as you slowly began to wake up. Your head was pounding, your mouth dry. The first thing you noticed was that Tom wasn’t beside you anymore which wasn’t all that strange, he was always the first to wake up between you two. You grimaced as you remembered you were still wearing the dress you had worn last night, Tom having not given you a chance to change before he engulfed you in an iron grip. You slowly got to your feet, holding your head in one hand as if to stop it falling off. Rummaging through Tom’s drawers you took out a pair of joggers and a baggy t-shirt that smelled exactly like him and made your way to the bathroom to shower.

When you were finally clean and fresh, feeling much better already, you went back to Tom’s room only to find him sprawled on the bed scrolling though his phone, two steaming mugs of tea and copious slices of toast stacked on a plate sitting on the bedside table.

He jumped up when he noticed you, eyes scanning your body and smiling appreciatively at the fact you were wearing his clothes. “Good morning! All the clothes I bought you and you still wear mine?” He teased. You rolled your eyes playfully ay him and plonked yourself on the bed beside him.

“What’s all this? What did I do to deserve tea and toast in bed?” You took a bite out of some toast and watched Tom as he seemed to be sorting through words in his head.

“Well, it’s not a grand spread of breakfast in bed or anything… Just wanted to do something nice for you since I cut your night short last night, being sick and that…” He trailed off, not quite meeting your eyes. You were about to answer, tell him that of course you would look after him when he’s not feeling great when he cut you off.

“I can’t skirt around the truth anymore, Y/N, and this is something I should have said ages ago. It’s time to just tell you, because I don’t think I’m being fair to either of us.” He took a deep breath and finally looked up to meet your eyes, making your breath stop in your throat as you were utterly captivated by his chocolate eyes, unable to look away. “I am completely in love with you. Always have been, I just never knew how to tell you, or when it would be time to tell you. But… I think it’s time. And I heard what you said last night but I kind of chickened out… and also I felt that I shouldn’t say anything because I was quite drunk and I –“ You cut him off as you quickly but gently pressed your lips against his, the slice of toast you had been holding long forgotten. His hand came up quickly to cup your cheek and he immediately kissed you back. You both broke apart for a moment and rested your forehead against his.

“I never, ever thought you could possibly feel the same. I’ve tried so hard to not fall in love with you for that reason but I definitely failed.” You giggled and he held you close.

“Oh, how wrong you were.” He laughed as he leaned in again, catching your lips in his in a far more intense and passionate kiss. One hand grasping for your waist as the other one tangled itself in your hair. You were both barely aware of any of your surroundings, utterly lost in each other as his tongue swiped across your bottom lip, prompting you to part your lips slightly, allowing him access.

You had imagined this for years, always thinking that if you ever got the opportunity your head and heart would combust, yet now you felt at complete ease, almost as if your lips belonged right there attached to his. You could feel him smiling into the kiss as he pulled you impossibly closer. Eventually breaking apart from your lips and tracing light, open kisses from your jaw down your neck. You could feel the heat pooling between your legs and you tried your best to ignore it. It was better to take things slow, right?

Tom’s hand had the t-shirt you were wearing balled into his fist, trying to keep his hands from your skin until the temptation was too much. He tentatively slid his hand under the shirt, resting it just above your hip bone as his thumb gently brushed the skin there. The action was in complete opposition to the kisses he was placing along your neck which were becoming hungrier by the second, teeth nipping ever so slightly. You involuntarily let out a quiet moan which didn’t go unnoticed by Tom who laughed breathily against your skin. He pulled away and your eyes met, silently questioning how far you wanted to go. You could see the undeniable want in his eyes and you knew yours looked the same by the way Tom nodded slightly, silent understanding passing between you both as he latched his lips onto yours and both of his hands slipped under your t-shirt, holding your waist close to him.

You ran your hands under his shirt, fingers rippling over his abs as you pulled the offensive garment up over his head, breaking the kiss to allow for the movement. Tom took this opportunity to also tug your t-shirt off you, leaving you bare on top since you hadn’t put on a bra after your shower. His sharp intake of air brought your attention to him as he gazed at your half naked form appreciatively. His eyes worked their way up your body to your eyes and he pulled you close again.

“Always knew you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever known but Christ, that seems like an understatement now.” He pulled you into another breath-taking kiss as his hands worked up your body, one hand cupping you breast, the other one lightly brushing over your nipple making your body arch into his. He played with your boobs until your nipples were stiff peaks and the core between your legs was dripping and aching for attention. Tom wrapped an arm around your waist and gently lowered you onto your back, positioning himself over you as his mouth dipped to lightly suck on your nipple, the sensation going straight to your core. You squirmed and rubbed your thighs together for any sort of release, prompting Tom to lower one hand down the waistband of your joggers. He teased you for a bit, ghosting his fingers over the skin just above until you whined in his mouth. His hand then dipped under the waistband and cupped your heat, the sudden change in feeling eliciting a whimper from you. His fingers danced around both your clit and your entrance, teasing you until you began whining and in retaliation, you very softly palmed the prominent bulge in his sweatpants forcing him to grind down on you to get more friction.

He turned and dipped his head into your shoulder. “Okay, I get it. I’ll stop teasing.” He laughed as he ran a finger through your folds, making you shiver in anticipation, before dipping one finger slowly into you, moving in and out. Your hand found his length and pulled him free of his sweatpants, matching his pace and slowly moving your hand up and down. He tried to keep his hips still but ended up thrusting into your hand slightly each time you purposefully moved a bit slower than he wanted. He inserted another long finger into you, pumping slightly faster now and using his thumb to massage circles around your clit, brushing against the bundle of nerves every so often until you were writhing beneath him. He hovered over you, marvelling at every movement you were making, his eyes full of admiration as he slowly withdrew his hand. You whined slightly until you realised what he was doing. He lowered himself down, hooking his fingers into your joggers and underwear and pulling them off in one motion. He sat back on his heels for a moment, admiring the view before pulling his own pants and underwear off allowing you to see his cock for the first time; longer than you’d thought it would be, and you’d thought about it a lot in the small hours of the night when you needed a release, and definitely thicker. Before he’d had a chance to move, you sat forward and leaned down, wrapping your lips around the tip and swirling your tongue around it, before you lowered your mouth down, painstakingly slow, earning a gasp followed by a low groan from the man above you. One hand steadied himself on the bed while the other tentatively rested on the back of your head.

“Fuck, darling. Always imagined you’d be good at that.” His words alone sent shockwaves to your core and you whined slightly around his cock, bobbing up and down and using your hand to massage whatever you couldn’t get with your mouth. “As much as I love this, princess, I’m not gonna last much longer.” You eased off him and he pulled you up for a kiss before gently pushing you back on the bed. “You sure you want this?” He asked before placing sweet kisses along your jaw line.

“Are you serious? I honestly don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more.” You told him honestly. He beamed at you and placed his hands underneath your thighs to pull you down the bed towards him, but then hesitated.

“I don’t have any… Ugh, I have no condoms. I can go ask Harrison but that might be weird.” He scratched the back of his head and you giggled.

“I’m on birth control and I’m clean so if you are too? I’m good with it.” He grinned eagerly and leaned down to press a chaste kiss to your lips as he lined himself up against your entrance.

“You ready, love?” You whined against his lips and he took that as a ‘yes’, slowly pushing himself into you until he had bottomed out. You both groaned lowly in unison and he pressed his forehead against yours until you signalled that he could move. He started to thrust into you, building speed as he was going. From your view, he looked like a God. Toned arms holding himself up over you, sunlight bouncing off his already slightly tanned, toned body, eyebrows furrowed in absolute pleasure. You wrapped an arm around his bicep while the other hand found purchase on his shoulder, scratching at the skin ever so slightly. It was tentative; neither of you really knew what the other liked in bed but you were eager to learn what got him going.

“Fuck, you’re taking me so well, love. Such a good girl.” You groaned at his words and tightened around him. “Oh, does someone have a little praise kink?” He sniggered and picked up the pace of his thrusts, pounding into you harder and faster than before, causing you to moan out, a mantra of his name falling from your lips only encouraging him to go harder still until he pulled out, leaving you empty and confused. He flashed you a smile and a wink before flipping you over and pulling you back by the hips, forcing you to hold yourself up by your arms as he entered you again from a different angle, hitting that sweet spot inside you and making you cry out in pleasure again.

“Fuck, Tom. Right there, don’t stop.” Your words encouraged him to pound faster, drawing breathy moans out of you.

“How do you feel so good? So tight around me.” His fingers were likely leaving bruises on your hips as he held onto you for dear life. Your arms were buckling underneath you until you couldn’t hold yourself up any longer. You let you arms fall, keeping your ass in the air, deepening the angle further causing Tom to groan loudly. “Fuck, love. I can’t… You gonna take my cum?” You were a mewling mess underneath him.

“Tom, please…” Words were failing you as his thrusts sped up until he gripped your hips as if they were the only things keeping him grounded and his movements started getting sloppy. He gave out a loud grunt and you felt him release inside of you with each thrust until he collapsed on top of you, placing open mouthed kisses on your shoulder. You giggled and twisted around the face him, both of you breathing heavy and looking at each other in awe. You sighed contently and placed a kiss on his nose.

“Oh, don’t think for a second that I’m forgetting about you, love.” He smiled wickedly as his fingers attach themselves to your clit again. You threw your head back in pleasure as Tom laughed and began placing wet kisses all the way down your body before licking a long stripe up your folds causing you to let out a high-pitched moan. He started slowly lapping at your clit, alternating between kitten licks and delving his tongue into your folds, tasting both himself and you. You run your fingers through the short hair on his head, trying your best to tug him closer to your aching core. He sucks at your clit, making you wild as you start your climb to the pique of an orgasm. You’re thrusting your hips upwards, trying to get the most friction possible until he wraps a strong arm around them and holds you down, his eyes meeting yours as he laps devilishly slowly and he uses his other hand to pump two fingers in and out of you simultaneously. Your eyes are rolling in the back of your head at the absolute heavenly sensations and you can feel yourself nearing your orgasm, building and building. The hand that Tom was using to hold your hips down comes up and intertwines his fingers with yours. You squeeze his hand gently, your thighs beginning to shake as your orgasm reaches its zenith and you feel absolute euphoria as Tom continues to lick and suck and graze his teeth along your clit. Eventually, the area becomes so sensitive that you have to push Tom’s head away from you, laughing and whining when he refuses to stop licking. You scramble to get away from him, sending you both into fits of giggles and laughter. Tom crawls back up the bed and pulls you to his chest, both of you catching your breath. You turn towards him to find him already staring at you.

“I suppose now is a good time to ask you out to dinner?” He asks and you both burst out laughing again. “As my girlfriend, this time?” He adds when the laughter subsides.

“Yes, please. Only if you continue to call me that.” You lean up to kiss him gently. It was then you hear the banging coming from down the hall. And the moans.

“Is that…?”

“Haz and Anna. Yep.” He answers you. Which only starts the laughter up again.

Eventually you both calm down, looking into each other’s eyes and holding each other close. Tom’s hand is running through your hair and you’re running your hand along his arm.

“So much for the cups of tea.” Tom eyed the now freezing cold mugs on the bedside table. “And the hangovers.” He laughed.

“How did it take us so long to do that?” You ask him earnestly.

“Until now, it just wasn’t time, love.”

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#tomholland #tom holland fanfic #tom holland smut #tom holland #tombestfriend!#tomhollandangst #tomhollandfluff #tomholland x reader

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kiwi-stan · 4 years

Text

Crave

Description: AU Harry’s a struggling songwriter until a song about being in lofe with his best friend puts him on the map. My contribution to the pick your poison challenge that @oh-honey-styles @for-fucks-sake-h and @andwhenshesays organized. I haven’t written in so long but this has been a fun way to get back into it now that I have more downtime!

Warnings: None aside from me taking liberties with the process of how writing a song actually works

Harry’s family had thought he was insane for dropping out of university and moving to LA to try songwriting professionally. And a few years in, he was starting to think that they were right. He hadn’t expected to start working with big names right away, but after two years, he had been hoping to move beyond indie artists who had about a thousand monthly listeners on Spotify. Songwriting was his dream. He loved music, loved creating it, but didn’t want the fame. The inability to step outside without being recognized, the scrutiny, the media attention. He wanted to stay behind the scenes. But he was beginning to think about packing it up, moving back home, and finishing his college degree and getting some boring office job. Until you called and announced that you had found a job in LA after graduating and would be moving.

You’d been Harry’s best friend since you were both small, when some little boy knocked you off the monkey bars at the park and Harry’s protective instincts-already sharp even back then-had rushed over to check if you were okay. There had been a few awkward years in middle school, when he’d been teased by friends for having a girl friend who wasn’t a girlfriend, but that had resolved itself during a very awkward party where you’d played seven minutes together and had mutually agreed that kissing each other was too weird. Aside from that, your friendship had been solid all throughout school, and had even weathered Harry moving to LA. In fact, you were one of the few people from his hometown that he’d kept in contact with. His parents had cut off contact (and financial support) when he’d dropped out of school without warning, and his emails with his sister were infrequent as she was trying to keep up a positive relationship with their parents. He didn’t really have any LA friends either, a few casual acquaintances but no one who he felt like he could really talk to.

On the day that you arrived, Harry drove to the airport to pick you up. By the time he navigated traffic and dealt with the nightmare of parking at LAX, it was nearly an hour after your flight had landed and half an hour after you’d sent a text saying that you’d claimed your bags. As he entered the terminal, he was worried that you would be angry about him being late. You never were the type to get annoyed about little things like that and from your video chats you didn’t seem to have changed all that much, but two years was a long time and it could bring about a lot of change in a person. He glanced around the room, full of happy reunions and stressed out men in suits setting out on business trips, when he finally spotted you, nestled in a corner and perched on your suitcase. It was like something out of a movie, how you looked up from your phone just as he spotted you, the two of you locked eyes, and you sprang to your feet and ran toward him, throwing your arms around him in an enthusiastic hug and squealing “Harry”.

“Sorry I’m late.” There were so many things he wanted to say to you, how much he missed you, how happy he was that you were moving, stories he hadn’t wanted to tell over FaceTime. But for some reason, an apology was the first thing that popped out of his mouth. “Traffic was horrible then I had to park…”

You pulled away from him to wave a hand, dismissing his apology and Harry got his first real look at you. He’d noticed from your Facetime chats that you’d changed your hair to a shorter style and that you’d started wearing more makeup, both choices that were probably seen as “more professional”. Otherwise, you looked about the same, but seeing you in person he noticed that there was a difference in the way you carried yourself. You seemed older, more mature, with the kind of confidence that he assumed came from graduating college and moving across the country on your own. He wondered if he had the same aura around him. “I missed you.” You said, picking up your suitcase and dragging Harry away from his thoughts. “And I cannot thank you enough for letting me stay with you.” You’d explained over FaceTime that the job you’d been offered had wanted you to start right away, not even considering that you would need time to deal with the logistics of moving or finding a place to live. Lucky for you, Harry had stepped in.

“I missed you too,” Harry took your suitcase from you, dragging it behind him and tugging it toward the exit. “And don’t say that until you see my place.”

*******

You’d been worried that things with Harry would have changed in the two years that he’d been gone. But as he took the long drive back to his apartment, you slipped right back into your old friendship, joking and swapping stories. You updated him about what all of your old high school friends were up to and he told you stories about all the weird LA types that he’d met. You’d never admit this, but you’d been worried that he might have turned into one of them since he left, burning sage and displaying an unhealthy obsession posting to Instagram. He seemed like his old self in texts and on your video chats, but you had thought he might be hiding that part of him. You were relieved to see that Harry was still his old self. However, a new set of worries about Harry sprouted as he turned into his neighborhood.

Harry had alluded to money troubles while you’d been apart, so you had known that he wasn’t living in Beverly Hills. However, you also weren’t really expecting dark streets, abandoned buildings, and liquor stores with bars over the windows. Harry parked outside a seedy looking building and led you up to his apartment, which was the size of a shoebox and overwhelmed with cardboard boxes full of your things. He’d been nice enough to tell you to ship some of your things to his address, though he hadn’t mentioned how tiny his apartment was. By the time Harry had cleared everything off the futon so you could sleep, you’d seen three roaches scurry across the floor and you’d made your mind up.

“Once I find a place you’re moving in with me.” Harry opened his mouth to protest, but you held firm. “Don’t argue. Why didn’t you tell me you were living in a shithole?” You glanced around the small space and another problem occurred to you. “Where exactly are you planning to sleep?”

“The floor I guess,” He said, gesturing to the sliver of space near the lone window that wasn’t occupied by furniture or boxes.

You shook your head, thinking back to the roaches you’d seen and the shag carpet that probably hadn’t been cleaned since the 70s. “No way. You’re sleeping with me. It’s not like we haven’t done it before.” It might feel a little strange after your time apart, but back before he dropped out Harry had slept in your tiny twin bed in your dorm room tons of times, sometimes because he’d had a fight with his roommate, sometimes because he was drunk and your room was closer, and sometimes just because he was lonely. You couldn’t even count the number of times you and Harry had slept together platonically. However, a few hours later, when you finally nestled under the covers together-with Harry’s body pressed up against yours, he was big on cuddling (and the small bed didn’t leave you much room to spread out anyway)-you found yourself wondering why something felt different.

***********

Harry started writing a song that night, about being in love with your best friend. He didn’t have the whole thing right away, which wasn’t usually how he wrote. Usually inspiration came fast, and he could write a whole song in the burst of manic energy he got when it struck. The chorus came that first night when you slept together, about you pressed up against him in a city full of dark alleys.

The rest came to him slowly over the next few months, as you started your job and found a slightly better apartment to live in. With your entry level salary it wasn’t anything fancy, but it was in an area that made you feel safer and had two bedrooms, though Harry found that he slept worse without you near him and spent many nights tossing and turning before finally falling into a fitful sleep around 3 AM.

Though you’d been basically joined at the hip since you were young, you and Harry hadn’t shared space like this before. The apartment was still small, which meant that you and Harry were still constantly tripping over each other. Harry had thought it might be annoying, and had even worried that it would fracture your friendship, but it hadn’t. Living together seemed almost natural for the two of you. It meant that he could hear you singing when you came home from work, which meant that you had a good day and would be in the mood to cook something elaborate for dinner, or when you slammed the front door and he knew that you’d had a bad day and that he should order your favorite take out. He found your bobby pins all over the bathroom floor, he sat and watched The Bachelor with you on Monday nights, and he stole your fuzzy socks as the nights started getting cooler. Harry worked on his song while you were at work when he wasn’t at writing sessions for other people, and by the time he finished he felt that it was the best thing he’d ever written.

Harry knew exactly why the song (currently cryptically titled with an anagram of your name) was the best of anything he’d written so far. Typically he used a lot of creative license when he wrote, writing about things that happened to him long ago, about things that happened to friends of his, about completely made up scenarios, or anything that inspired him really. But he never really wrote about his own life. This was the first time, and it was his first song to really come from the heart.

After finally perfecting the song, Harry recorded a quick demo on his phone, then sent it off to Jeff, a big-name record producer he’d met a few months back. They’d met during a recording session for some pink-haired indie singer. Though Jeff hadn’t really liked the indie girl and her bananies-and-avacadies voice as he’d joked to Harry, he’d liked Harry’s writing style a lot. He’d slipped Harry his phone number and had told him to send along some of his strongest work. Harry had come close to sending a few things before, but had chickened out at the last minute. Nothing he’d done before was his strongest work, and he knew that. The song about you, he felt good enough to send.

Harry finally worked up the courage to press the send button during one of his sleepless nights. He hoped that Jeff hadn’t deleted his number, or if he had that he would be willing to listen to a voice message from a random stranger. Since it was nearly 1 am, he was surprised to get a message back almost immediately. Love it Harry. Let’s talk. Followed by a meeting time and location.

*******

A few weeks later, you arrived home (you had been surprised at how quickly you came to think of your new apartment in a new city as “home”, but you came to the conclusion that it was all because Harry was there) to Harry humming a song you didn’t recognize as he cleaned the apartment. He looked up when he saw you, dropping the broom and drawing you into a hug. “Hey!” He swayed you back and forth a few times as he held you. You had forgotten that little tic of his, but the motion reminded you of how much you loved it. It always made you feel safe and comforted, probably because it replicated the motion of a mother rocking a baby. And it was something Harry only did when he was really happy.

“What happened?” You asked once he let you go. Harry hadn’t seemed sad exactly, but you’d had the feeling that being isolated from his family and under almost constant money and career stress were starting to get to him. You hadn’t seen him happy like this since you were in college together and he aced a difficult Music Theory final.

“I think we should go out tonight. Somewhere nice-ish.”

This piqued your interest even more. Even combining your incomes, you still weren’t really on a going-out-regularly-in-LA budget. Something had happened. Something big. “Harry, tell me what’s going on.”

“I wrote a song a few weeks ago and The Heartbreakers want it.”

Your jaw dropped at the mention of the group who had shot to fame almost overnight a few years ago after one of their songs went viral on SoundCloud. Unlike some other indie groups that had scored mainstream hits and had faded to irrelevancy after a few weeks, The Heartbreakers had hired a good management team and were able to capitalize on the hit to become one of the biggest groups on the planet. “Harry, that’s amazing!” You threw your arms around him again. “But how? What? I didn’t even think you knew them? And I thought they wrote all their own stuff?”

Harry pulled back enough to look at you and gave a little laugh at all of your questions. His hands stayed around your waist, your arms around his neck. “That’s what they say. They use ghostwriters basically. I had to sign an NDA and got an advance that’s basically hush money.” You frowned, not really liking the thought that Harry wasn’t going to get any credit for his work. “Hey no, that’s just how it works sometimes,” He added, noticing your facial expression. “The music industry isn’t pretty. I knew that going in and I kind of expected it. Producers and other writers have their own kind of underworld. The important people will know that I wrote it. This will lead to more big stuff for me. I know. I wouldn’t have given the song away if I didn’t.”

Noticing that you still didn’t look happy, Harry was quick to change the subject. “As for how, I don’t know them. At all. It all went through this producer, Jeff, that I met a few months back. He wanted to hear some of my stuff, but nothing ever seemed good enough until I wrote this song. I sent it to him, he loved it and thought it would work with their sound. He took it to them and they wanted it. I’ve never even met them.”

“Will you get to?” You said, thinking that you would at least want to shake someone’s hand before handing off a piece of art that you created to them and letting them act like it was theirs.

Harry nodded. “I have to go in for a writing session and be there while they record in case they want to make any tweaks. Which they probably will. Change a word, get a third and all that.” Your frown returned at the mention of the unfair way that royalties were distributed. Harry noticed. “But this will still be really big for me. It’s the right move. I know.”

You studied him for a moment, looking for any sign of hesitation. “I trust you.” Realizing that you’d been holding each other for an awkward amount of time, and that it felt surprisingly good to have your best friend holding you, his big hands solid at your waist and your fingers toying with the curls at the back of his neck, you stepped away. “I’d love to hear it. Do you have a recording yet?” Harry looked alarmed. “What? Has the NDA got you scared?” You teased. Harry could be shy about sharing his work, but he’d always been open about it with you. He called you his guinea pig, you were often the first one to hear new songs.

“I just wrote it a few weeks ago. I got really inspired seeing you again, I guess.” Harry said, suddenly seeming shy.

“Harry that’s so sweet.” You asked, unable to keep the emotion out of your voice. No one had ever written or created anything for you before, and as far as you knew you hadn’t inspired anything either (aside from some crude messages in the boy’s locker room back in high school that Harry had taken a Sharpie to almost immediately after they popped up).

“But I can’t play it for you. I don’t own it anymore. I already signed it over.”

“Harry, we’re alone in our apartment. No one’s gonna know.”

“I know, I know.” Harry picked up his broom and went back to his sweeping, obviously nervous. “It’s a little unpolished though.”

“That never stopped you before.” Harry had played you things that were completely unfinished before, sometimes even when he just had a few chords together or two lines of lyrics.

“I really think the Heartbreakers will do it better than me. I think the first time you hear it, it should be their version.”

“At least tell me what it’s called.”

“It doesn’t have a name,” Harry said a little too fast. “Or at least right now. When it actually gets released they’ll find something marketable, I’m sure. Do you want to go to a club tonight, or just dinner?”

You accepted Harry’s abrupt change of subject and decided not to push it, but you spent the entire evening (both dinner and a club, Harry wanted to splurge since he knew his so-called hush money would be kicking in soon) wondering why Harry didn’t want you to hear the song.

*********

“So,” Jeff began as the final recording session for the song, which had been renamed “Crave” wrapped up. The Heartbreakers had left for the day, and Harry and Jeff had hung back to do some final mixing. Harry didn’t really need to be there either, but Jeff wanted his approval on the final version of the song and he seemed happy for the company. “You never told me who this song is about.”

“Who says it's about anyone?” Harry asked, trying not to sound harsh. Despite the fact that they’d been working closely together on Crave, they weren’t good enough friends where they could be quite so honest with each other.

“Every song is about someone. Especially ones this heartfelt.” Jeff let the song play once through. The Heartbreakers had changed very little lyrically, adding a lyric to the chorus about craving the person the song was addressed to (which was where they’d drawn the title from). They’d changed a bit more when it came to the music itself, switching from the indie playing-in-a-coffeshop vibe that Harry had intended, to a rockier sound. Harry thought it sounded much better that way, it was something that he wouldn’t have tried with such a sweet song, and he knew that he’d made the right decision in signing the song away. As the final songs of the song drifted away, Jeff turned to Harry again. “So I’m guessing it’s a lady friend of yours from back in school and who you once played seven minutes in heaven with,” Jeff began, referencing the first verse of the song where Harry had written about first meeting you when you were kids. “Who you now find yourself in love with because she sings like a lark when she’s happy, leaves bobby pins all over the place, and makes you chocolate milkshakes when you’re sad.”

Harry felt his cheeks heat up as Jeff named more details from elsewhere in the song, all things that pointed directly to your friendship with him. “My best friend from back in school. She just moved out here and we’ve been living together and...I don’t even really know what it is, if it was the time apart or if it’s different now that we’re older or because we’re living together. But yeah, I love her.” It was the first time Harry had said it out loud and it felt like a weight off his shoulders.

“Have you told her yet?”

Harry shook his head. “I’m worried about ruining the friendship.”

“Do you think she feels the same way?”

Harry considered it, how you had let him hold you for far too long the night he first told you about selling the song, how you always made spinach for him as a side when you cooked even though you hated it, how much your hands brushed when he took you on tours of his favorite places in LA, if those were all just friendly gestures or if it meant something more. “Maybe? But she’s probably thinking the same thing about ruining the friendship.” Harry knew you well enough to know that you were a little too pragmatic sometimes when it came to relationships.

“You should tell her.” Jeff regarded Harry with a serious look. “The second she hears the song she’s going to figure it out. The Heartbreaker’s last single was number one on the Billboard chart for six weeks and played on KIIS once an hour every day for a month after its release. You don’t want her finding out that her best friend is in love with her when she hears the song in Trader Joe’s. It’ll mean way more coming directly from you.”

*******

“Does this look okay? What do you even wear to a listening party anyway?” You asked, stepping in front of Harry and twirling around, letting him examine your dress.

Harry gave you a quick once over. “What you’ve got on is fine. You look great.”

The simple compliment sent a little rush of excitement through you, the saw way you felt when previous boyfriends had complimented you before you set out on a date. With you in your dress and Harry also dressed up, the two of you looked a bit like you were setting out on a proper date, but you stopped yourself from going down that line of thinking. There was no way to know if he felt the same way. You studied Harry instead, drinking in his slicked back hair, black shirt with the little white hearts on it, and black pants. Realizing that you were staring, you changed the subject.

“You’re sure it’s okay if I come?” A listening party seemed like something so secret, something that only music industry people got to attend, like the parties the cool kids threw in high school. But Harry had seemed excited when he invited you along, even though he’d had to present you with an NDA at the same time and had told you not to bring your phone or it would be confiscated at the door. The listening party was for people from the label and was being held a few weeks before the official release of the single, and preventing leaks was essential, Harry had explained.

Harry nodded. “Yeah. It’s gonna be real small. Just the band, some people from the label, me, and Jeff. All people who are already aware that they don’t write their own music.” Harry looked like there was something more he wanted to say, but instead he just pulled on his sport coat. “Ready?”

Harry was quiet for the drive to the private club where the party was being held, letting one of his Spotify playlists play as he navigated LA’s busy streets. He didn’t speak until he found parking at the club. You reached for the door to exit the car, but froze when Harry said, “Wait.” You waited. Harry took a deep breath before speaking. “I just want you to know that the song is about you. I just want you to hear it, knowing that, and tell me what you think after.”

You wanted to press for more information. That was incredibly vague, and if anything it just left you with more questions. But Harry was nervous enough, you could tell from the way he’d adjusted his hair several times during the drive and the fact that he was avoiding eye contact with you now. Not wanting to stress him out anymore, you decided not to push it. You leaned over to kiss him on the cheek, ignoring how natural it felt. Maybe it was just the dim lighting from the streets lights, but you could have sworn that Harry was blushing. “I’m sure I’ll love it. I mean, writing a song about me is already nicer than anything any of my ex-boyfriend have done.” You realized a few seconds too late that maybe comparing your best friend to your exes wasn’t the best move. “And everything else you’ve written has taken my breath away. I’m sure this won’t be any different.” You added, trying to cover the awkward moment.

Harry turned to you, looking happier and more confident now. “Let’s go.” He walked around to your side of the car and opened the door for you, even taking your hand to help you out of the car. Because no LA party could really start without time for networking first, you spent the first part of the party following Harry around like a baby duckling as he made his rounds to talk to the band and the industry executives. You’d been a little worried that you would feel like a fish out of water, or worse that Harry would leave you by the bar and make the rounds on his own. Harry had never been the type to social climb, but you were fully aware of the fact that this was his biggest career opportunity yet, so you weren’t sure how he would react. But you were worried for nothing, because Harry kept you by his side the entire night, introduced you to everyone by name, and tried hard to include you in the conversation, even though you were so starstruck most of the night that you ended up feeling tongue tied.

As someone from the label raised his voice to announce that they would be playing the song soon, Harry pulled you to a table and introduced you to Jeff.

“Ah, the famous muse,” Jeff shook your hand before giving Harry a knowing look. “Harry’s told you about the song?”

“Just that it’s about me. I haven’t heard it yet.”

“You’re in for a treat.” He told you with a smile, shooting Harry another look. Before you had time to further ponder what was going on, a label executive's voice at the front of the room drew your attention as he introduced “Crave”.

As the song played, you were blown away. Harry had written a beautiful song, and though you’d initially been worried about him giving the song away you had to admit that The Heartbreakers had done it justice. But what surprised you the most was that it was a love song, and every single word of the song pointed to you, to things you had Harry had done together or to your little idiosyncrasies. Harry loved you, and had for a while.

As the final notes of the song faded away, Harry grabbed your hand and pulled you outside the club, clearly wanting whatever happened next to be just between the two of you. You stood bathed beneath a streetlight, with drunks exiting nearby clubs stumbling past you. “So, what’d you think?” Harry asked, smiling shyly at you.

“Harry, I loved it. I love you.” You said, throwing your arms around him. Saying it felt so right, so natural, even though it was the first time you’d said those words to Harry.

Harry slid his arms around you and pulled you closer to him. “I love you.” He said quietly, before he pressed his lips to yours for a kiss that had been a long time coming.

#pypfc #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #i literally can't remember the last time i wrote something i hope this is okay #i just read another friends to lovers fic earlier that was so good and its got me a lil stressed about posting this #also me posting this at 3 am is very on brand for me

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