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hiccanna-tidbits · 2 years

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Jackunzel Month

Day 18 - The Little Mermaid

***

Y’all thought I was done with Jackunzel Month??? PSYCHE

I apologize for being horrendously late!!! For some reason this one-shot was really hard to write??? I think it’s partially because the first Jackunzel fic I ever wrote was in a mermaid AU, so I was really trying to make this its own distinct thing while still trying to incorporate some of the things I liked about that story. I got pretty nostalgic writing this regardless ;_____;

Starring Jack as a random poor fisherman’s kid instead of a prince because fuck that, Jack ain’t no prince, he’s poor af! He’s really Just Some Guy who happens to be pretty funny, and the idea of a very pretty young mermaid very readily preferring that over some larger-than-life prince who’s also Moneybags McGee is both endlessly amusing and extremely heartwarming to me.

Also, I strongly believe that these two’s teasing and banter would only be enhanced by one of them being half fish X3

Random aside, but I watched some scenes from The Little Mermaid for inspo, and like...Ariel x Eric is actually way cuter than I remember??? Like lowkey I hated TLM as a kid (mainly because I was a not-like-the-other-girls pick-me type who made a point of despising anything even remotely feminine lmao) and like...Ariel still isn’t my fave, and I can’t help but make fun of the whole “daddy I love this man I’ve spoken to 0 times!!!” bit. But lowkey when Ariel and Eric DO start interacting, their chemistry is...actually pretty solid???

Not that Eric’s whole “I’m going to marry this girl because she sings nice!!!” bit is any less ridiculous XD Honestly I think these two ditzy idiots are kinda perfect for each other that way XD

Pic credits available upon request!

Fic preview under the cut!!! Go read the rest on my ff.net account, Infrared-Ultraviolet!

***

Rapunzel lay sprawled on a surf-beaten boulder, pink tail swishing behind her as she watched the distant figures on the beach.

She was nestled in a cove of pointy rocks, hidden and far enough away that no one running around on the sandy beach was likely to spot her. Rapunzel was no stranger to the perils of the human world, after all.

Looming above the pale golden shoreline and the human fishing village just past was a great castle, stark-white stone towers and rust-colored roof spires stabbing into the sky. Rumors flew around the merkingdom about the viciousness of the people in that castle, going out in lavish boats and dragging in enormous nets filled with every type of sea life under the sun—fish, crabs, lobsters, shrimp, seals, dolphins. Those merfolk brave enough to go near the palace claimed they heard the screams of animals drifting from the windows, and sometimes felt drops of scalding oil fall from above and sear into their scales. Whatever way the humans killed and ate creatures of the sea was likely not kind. One particularly gossipy young merboy had even claimed they once were roasting a merperson over a spit in their courtyard, although Rapunzel doubted that.

The human prince was said to hold sea creatures prisoner, a tank full of tropical fish taking up his entire wall. Rapunzel had heard many a haunting bedtime tale from her father that if she didn’t behave, she’d end up trapped in the prince’s collection. She’d heard of him and other well-off humans holding great shows and performances, where they came to gawk and point at sea animals and harass them for entertainment. Some of the crueler humans would hit dolphins and seals with rods until they did tricks.

Although Rapunzel couldn’t help but feel a sort of morbid fascination with the castle, it wasn’t the reason she snuck out to watch the humans.

A brown-haired boy raced down the beach, dressed in a threadbare beige shirt and a tattered brown vest and pair of trousers. A little girl with matching dark hair ran just in front of him, laughing. He caught up to her and pinched her playfully in the side, and she screamed in delight.

Anna didn’t understand Rapunzel’s taste. She’d always said if a human had to catch the blonde’s eye, she’d think it would be one of the snappily-dressed ones who rode by in fancy carriages, or one of the dignified ones who marched down the more lavish piers wearing powdered wigs and petticoats.

But no, the one she had her heart set on was a fisherman’s son, dressed practically in rags and always sweaty from running and bouncing everywhere he went.

She’d seen him a number of times. When he wasn’t out on his father’s fishing boat, he was dashing around the beach or the docks, trying to make his sister laugh. She sometimes spotted him on top of the soaring seaside cliffs just past the rocky shore. He would sit or stand there alone for what seemed like hours, gazing off into the distance with a strange expression.

Rapunzel wondered if it might be a sort of yearning, but she didn’t want to read too much into it.

Other than those mysterious moments on the cliffs, he always radiated joy. Every time she saw him, he was beaming or laughing or putting on some silly performance for the younger kids. His happiness was so infectious that every time she spotted him, and consequently stayed to “observe” him for probably much longer than was appropriate, she went home feeling giddy and cheerful.

She wanted to know him.

Merida thought Rapunzel’s taste was absurd. It was beyond her, how Rapunzel could risk getting into the most massive trouble either of them had ever known and getting captured and imprisoned by the cruelest of the land creatures, all for some fisherman’s son. It was easy for Merida to say—she had always been enchanted by the sea maidens that surrounded them. Rapunzel saw her head turn every time one swam by, eyes darting over flashing tangerine or violet or emerald-hued scales and looking approvingly at elaborate hairstyles held in place by shells. Merida was baffled by what a dry and shriveled-up land creature could ever have to offer.

Nonetheless, Rapunzel found herself coming back to the rocky cove whenever she had a spare afternoon.

She kept telling herself Today’s the day. Today’s the day I’m going to work up the guts to talk to him.

It never actually was the day, but that was neither here nor there.

On the distant beach, the little brown-haired girl and several other children her age were playing in the sand, building rickety castles with buckets. The fisherman’s son stood watching them for a while before leaning down and murmuring something in the little brunette girl’s ear. She nodded with a big beam, and the boy turned and began making his way down the shoreline.

Toward Rapunzel.

She glanced across the cove, at a flat boulder right on the edge of the beach.

She could go there if she wanted. She could wait for the boy to come to her, and if any of the kids in the distance looked up and saw her, a quick escape into the surrounding water would be easy. No one else was around to run and tell the castle staff that a new mermaid was ready and available for kidnapping.

Before Rapunzel knew it, her fins were carrying her over to the rock by the beach, and she was pulling herself onto it. If she really wanted to talk to Fisher Boy, it was probably now or never.

Before she could second-guess herself, the approaching boy looked up and locked eyes with her. He nearly fell over.

“Whoa, what the—are you really—”

“Uh…hi.” Rapunzel gave him her most winning beam.

The boy blinked a few times, taking a couple of tentative steps forward. His eyes drifted to her tail, gawking at it.

He opened his mouth, as if to let out a cry of alarm. Rapunzel quickly put up her hands to stop him. “Please don’t freak out!”

His mouth snapped shut. “I am definitely not freaking out. I just also definitely did not expect to start talking to a supernatural entity on my walk down the beach today.”

Rapunzel tipped her head to one side. “Am I a supernatural entity?”

“Considering until today, I didn’t think girls with fishtails existed outside of sailor’s tall tales floating around seafood market stalls…I’d say so, yeah.”

Rapunzel glanced down at the gleaming anemone-pink scales covering her lower half, and her eyes flicked back to the boy. “Well, you can walk around on land. That seems pretty supernatural to me.”

He took a step closer, taking another long look at her lower half. Rapunzel blushed.

“Wow. I knew that pollock tasted a little funny this morning, but this is on another level.”

She shook her head rapidly. “No, no, I’m real! I promise! Come and see!”

He gingerly walked over to her, and she was suddenly wreathed in the musky scent of carp, sand, sweat, ocean-kissed wood, and old rope. She found herself longing to melt into it, wanting it to surround her after a long, tiring day.

It wasn’t the sort of smell Merida would enjoy. She’d far prefer coconut and sea grape and banana and saltwater and plumeria.

To Rapunzel, though, it felt just right.

The boy hovered a hand over her scales. “Can I touch?”

Rapunzel nodded eagerly.

His fingers felt soft as they brushed over her, sending excited shivers up into her torso.

“If this is a dream, it’s the most real-feeling one I’ve had in a while,” he admitted. “Never thought those crazy deckhands at the docks were actually onto something. Seeing half-fish people splashing around underneath your boat does sound pretty far-fetched until you see it for yourself.”

He let out a wry laugh, and Rapunzel smiled at the ground. His laugh really sounded so much better up close.

The boy slid his hand off and looked up at her, and she realized his eyes were as brown as his hair. “It’s just…I’m out to sea all the time, and I’ve never seen a mermaid,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “Where are you and all your friends hiding?”

Rapunzel frowned. “We hear bad things about a lot of the humans. The ones in the castle, especially. They run us over with their giant ships and fry us in oil for feasts and collect us like rare artifacts so they can gawk at us all day. It’s safer to make ourselves scarce.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know what goes on in there. They all seem like a bunch of entitled snobs, anyways. I don’t blame you for not wanting anything to do with those jerks.” He shrugged nonchalantly before abruptly breaking into a wide smirk. “But I have to ask, then…if humans are bad news, why are you talking to me?”

“I’ve been watching you!” Rapunzel told him, beaming. “I see you on the beach and out on your fishing boat and up on the cliffs, and you just seem so nice and funny and handsome and interesting and thoughtful and smart and it looks like you take such good care of your little sister and—”

He raised an eyebrow at her, and Rapunzel’s hand shot to her mouth as she realized what all had slipped out.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” she whimpered. “That probably came across so creepy. Gosh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that! I meant I’ve seen you around while I was doing my daily swims, nothing else, and I really wanted to meet you, and I didn’t—I wasn’t following you or anything, I promise. I just noticed you and you piqued my interest and I wanted to meet you. If that’s okay.”

She started to play with a long strand of blonde hair, looking at the human boy pleadingly.

Had she said too much? Too many stupid things? Was he going to run?

“Well.” He grinned, spreading his arms a little as if showing himself off. “Now you’ve met me. I’m Jack Overland.”

“Um…Rapunzel Corona.”

She bit her lip, not sure what to make of this human. He didn’t seem bothered by her stalking habits—albeit stalking habits only bred out of the warnings of her peers to never interact directly with the land folk.

Jack Overland nodded approvingly. “That’s a suitably fancy name.”

He trotted over and sat down on the rock next to her, crossing his legs. He rested a sharp, boyish chin on cupped hands, regarding her curiously.

“So you’re not going to like…lure me into the water and eat my heart out, are you?”

Rapunzel wrinkled her nose. “No! Why would I do that?”

“What about drowning me?” He tipped his head slightly to one side. “Or stabbing me with pointy shells? Any plans of that?”

She glared at him. “No! I think you’re nice! I would never!”

He broke into another smirk and let out a chuckle. “Listen, Crazy Old Larry’s always in the tavern rambling on and on about ‘siren songs leading ye cursed seafarers to certain doom.’ Granted, he’s usually six drinks in when I see him, and I think the cod he eats for breakfast has seen better days, but I still had to check.”

She couldn’t help but giggle at the absurdly dramatic voice he did for Crazy Old Larry.

“Lucky for you, I don’t have much interest in stabbings or human hearts,” she said. She laid back on the rock, grinning up at him as several locks of her long blonde hair slipped into the water behind her. “Hearts are way too chewy and sinewy for my taste, and too much blood squirting out everywhere makes the water smell awful. As for drowning…I mean, human bodies floating around is a great way to pollute everything.”

“Phew.” He smiled down at her, and her heart felt like it was crashing into her ribs harder than waves at high tide. “That’s a relief. I guess I’m safe.”

“Gotta say, though.” He shrugged. “Every possible human to break your taboo and talk to, and you choose the smelly, broke fisherman’s kid. I don’t get it.”

She grinned. “Well, you haven’t grabbed me and dragged me off to make your dinner with yet. Or tried to pull my scales out to make jewelry. So I say you’re doing pretty well.”

Jack fixed her with an impish look, and his hands started gliding toward her tail with fingers poised to yank. She lifted her tail and smacked him so hard he nearly fell into the water, and he burst out laughing.

“I think that thing’s strong enough to send me flying halfway across the cove,” he said. “Honestly I don’t know why your kind is so worried about humans. I’m pretty sure you could just pummel them into rocks if they pissed you off too much.”

“Maybe,” she teased. “Or maybe you’re just skin and bone.”

“Oh, you did not!” He swatted her arm, and she cackled.

A shrill voice rang out across the beach, and Rapunzel looked up to see the little brown-haired girl from earlier bounding toward them.

Jack sighed. “You’d better go. My sister Emma’s got the biggest mouth in town, and I don’t trust her not to tell everyone she knows about you.”

“Okay.” Rapunzel felt a slight pang of disappointment as she let herself slip into the water. She peeked up her head above the waves and gave him a small smile. “Well, it was nice to finally meet you.”

He met her eyes, gaze suddenly sad. “Will I see you again?”

She beamed at him. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Rapunzel vanished into the waves just as Emma finished her trek down the beach.

***

And so, after that day, Jack and Rapunzel started to meet. Secretly, atop flat ocean stones hidden by forests of jabbing, pointed rocks and towering sea cliffs, but as often as they could nonetheless.

Rapunzel wondered at first if it was foolish, going to see one of the folk who could drag her away from the sea forever if he committed to it. It didn’t take long for her to gather that such an undertaking was far more work than someone like Jack was willing to put in. He had no interest in building up the muscle mass needed to carry a struggling mermaid into town and pawn her off for a handsome profit. Hauling ropes and fishnets around could only make you so strong, and carrying a being as big as you were, especially an unwilling one, was another matter entirely.

Aside from that, he seemed a kindhearted and easygoing sort, despite his occasionally rude sense of humor. He was always talking about his sister Emma, and how he would do anything for her. With a father constantly out to sea and a mother with seemingly never-ending seamstress work, Jack had practically raised Emma himself. She was the light of his life, and he didn’t know what he’d do if anything ever happened to her.

Jack was more than happy to bring her various artifacts from the human world. Dishware, cooking pans, corkscrews, burned firewood (the concept of using mildly-chaotic concentrated heat to make food crispier and tastier was truly fascinating to Rapunzel), maps of the world, pieces of rope, wooden sticks that were rounded at one end and had strings that made beautiful music if you pulled them. Pieces of old net, although he warned her to be careful with them as they were pretty “tangly.” Candlesticks that somehow managed to capture the very fire she found so strange and fascinating, even if it was only tiny bits of it. Ticking numbered devices that could apparently track the passage of time one 24th of a day at a time. Branching bones that had once been attached to the head of some great land beast, one that lived deep in sprawling clusters of trees. Glittery silver sheets that were somehow even more reflective than water itself.

Anything he was willing to part with she snuck down to the merkingdom, sliding it under her bed behind the conch and turtle shells she had collected over the years. Sometimes when she lay down to sleep at night, she held one of the assortment of objects close. It was a way to feel like she could keep the cove—and Jack—with her, even when they were far away.

One time, after the sun had gone down, he showed up with a metal-and-glass box with a soft ball of light inside, and said it was called a “lantern.” She loved them more than anything else in the world. She loved everything he showed her.

He brought her land food, too—more than she could have imagined existed. Mackerel seared over fire, delicious like nothing she had ever tasted. Boiled crab drenched in melted butter and herbs. Milk and cream and cheese and butter on bread. A roast, exotic meat called “chicken” made from a strange land bird. Raspberries and roast chestnuts and apples and hazelnuts and pears and other wild things Jack scrounged up in the woods outside of town. Once he even managed to steal her a piece of lavender cake from a castle courtyard party, disguising himself as a servant long enough to grab the elegant pastry and run.

In return, she brought him whatever treasures she could from the sea. Seashells in baby blue and candy pink, pieces of coral, sea stars, shiny abalone shells, glittering shed scales, the most elegant pearls she could find. It never felt like enough to thank him for all that he’d showed her, but it was the best she could do.

She couldn’t say how long they spent together, splashing around and building sandcastles and chasing each other through the cove and talking about how different the world was above and below the water. It never felt like long enough. Jack would have to go and make sure Emma wasn’t getting into too much trouble unattended, or Rapunzel would have to go before her parents got suspicious.

As the months went by, Rapunzel’s wariness dissolved. Any initial fears she had of him hauling her home like giant fishing trophy were gone, replaced by the warm comfort left after spending time with someone she’d known her whole life.

At least, it felt like she had known him her whole life.

She even found herself telling Jack about her strangest quality. Her magical golden hair, unusual even for mermaids, was the envy of the kingdom. Her mother had eaten a soup made from an enchanted undersea flower, said to have sprouted all the way from the center of the earth itself. The healing powers of the flower had passed into Rapunzel, and now she could cure any disease and close any wound with a quick song.

Ironically, Rapunzel had the exact opposite of whatever “siren call of death” Jack had been warned about.

Nonetheless, Jack wasn’t enamored with her powers. He wasn’t always asking her to sing for him so he could see the golden glow, or wrapping her hair around cuts and bruises and nagging her to make them vanish. To him, it was just another part of the ethereal world of merfolk—not any more or less amazing than her having a tail or being able to breathe underwater.

It was refreshing, really, being seen as something other than a quick bottle of medicine. Her parents praised her endlessly for her abilities, and how much good she did with them, but it still always made her feel…other. Like most who saw her were more interested in staring in awe at the sunshine trail of hair that flowed behind her than actually knowing her.

Jack wasn’t like that. Just a couple magic songs and a couple bouts of glowing hair, and he got back to unraveling the rest of her being.

She remembered the first time he’d crept up behind her in the water and hugged her waist, nearly giving her the scare of her life. He burst out laughing, but he didn’t let go.

She found she didn’t want him to.

He murmured in her ear asking if she could take him swimming, his voice a pleading whine. It was nigh impossible to say no.

And so they took to him lying on her back with his arms locked around her waist, and she’d zoom up and down the coastline while he whooped and cheered. They stayed beneath the cliffs, keeping to places so rocky and treacherous that no human or merfolk would dare venture there, but Rapunzel found she never worried about getting hurt.

Jack brought something brave out of her.

It was more tiring than swimming alone, but Rapunzel found herself looking forward to streaking through the water with him. She liked the tight feel of his arms around her.

Rapunzel grew to love the cove, the sprawling view of the cliffs and the beach. She lamented that she could never remember the beauty of it exactly as it was, no matter how often she came. She wished there was a way to keep it with her all the time, not just in her fickle memory. She mentioned this to Jack at one point, not missing the way his eyes lit up conspiratorially as she said it.

The next day, Jack brought a thick wooden stick on three legs, a thin white board, several long twigs with fur on the end, and a little tray filled with gooey, colored smudges. He said humans used something called “painting” to capture things they saw and keep them with them.

Rapunzel painted the cove. The picture was rough, and crude, and looked more like a collection of oddly-shaped blobs than anything, but it was hers. They let it dry before hiding it away among some of the craggier rocks, making sure it was far out of sight. Jack promised to check up on it every so often, when Rapunzel couldn’t come out to see him.

Then one day, Rapunzel came home to find her parents floating above the front lawn and glaring at her, all the contents of the underside of her bed spread across the eelgrass.

Her treasures were smashed to pieces in front of her. Her father told her neither humans nor their dangerous devices could be trusted, and no part of the world on land had a place in their kingdom. He wanted her to forget the human world completely—and if that meant destroying every last remnant she could possibly hold onto, then so be it.

Humans were perilous and cruel creatures, Frederick told her. The only true guarantee he had of keeping her completely safe from them was to make sure she never went near one again.

In short, she was forbidden from ever seeing Jack again. One of her parents always seemed to have a watchful, critical eye on her, as if daring her to try to return to the cove. She waited and waited for an opportunity to sneak away, but it never seemed to come.

She didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye.

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outofsstyles · 4 years

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WILDEST DREAMS

a/n: soo I’ve been working on this for a little while now and I’m very excited to share it with you al!! This piece is inspired by Taylor Swift’s music video for her song Wildest Dreams. If you’ve never seen the video, or don’t remember it really well, I recommend you watch it *after* reading the story so you don’t get it spoiled! If you’re interested then you can watch it by clicking *right here!!*

Word count: 17.2k Rated: M, mature

You agree to help your friend on her film project and Harry is playing your love interest.

“You’ve been frowning a lot and haven’t said a single word in the past five minutes, what’s wrong?” You looked up to your quiet roommate sitting opposite to where you stood near the kitchen counter.

A playlist you both had made months ago, meant only for cooking days, as Nia had instructed, played faintly in the background. You hummed along to the melody of a song you didn’t really know the name of, but had listened to it enough to mumble the lyrics, as you focused on cutting banana slices.

Nia was the one who brought up trying out a new fruit smoothie recipe she had found while scrolling around on Pinterest. She was pretty excited after coming home with the groceries, ready to start the process. Which is why seeing her sitting quietly as she glared at her phone was a big sign that something was wrong.

“I think Jordan is about to pull out on us,” she groaned loudly, locking her phone and throwing it on the counter, running her hands on her face, “I can’t believe this is happening a week before filming starts.”

“Oh, that’s not good news” you said, looking back at your friend’s defeated state in front of you as you threw the banana slices into the blender. “What happened?”

“He said he decided to go with his cousin to Ibiza.” Her arms muffled her voice as she lied on top of them, sighing once again, “this is the third one that leaves, I might as well just cancel the entire thing and fail this class.”

You rolled your eyes lightly at her, shaking your head as you listened to her dramatic reactions. Being her friend for as long as you have, you knew how stressed Nia got with a project, specially something she was passionate about. She was always too hard on herself, trying to push everything to be as perfect as possible, which is a good thing when you focused on the ultimate results. But she often tended to over-stress herself, and that’s what makes you worry.

With this one in particular, you could tell how excited she was from the day her teacher assigned it. She came back home and rambled for hours on end about making her first film. Which is why when she begged you to be part of it, and you couldn’t find it in your heart to say no.

It was a small production after all, it just being Nia and her partner Evan, whom you have known had gotten close to her in the past months. She assured it would a rather simple concept, with only two characters. The trickiest part being the fact that they would film it out of town, in a camp house that belonged to Nia’s aunt. You had agreed to it to make her happy, and with her promise of buying you chocolate muffins. Most uni students, however, didn’t seem as keen to sacrifice a week of their spring break as you were.

“You’re being dramatic Nia,” you reassured, turning on the blender and cringing at the loud noise that took over the place. “Maybe they just read on the script that they would have to kiss me a couple of times and got too nervous about it,” you tried to humor, raising your voice a bit before turning the processor off. Nia looked back at you with a serious expression, making you scoff, “calm down, grumpy pants, I’m sure Evan knows someone who can do the role, stop worrying.”

“All I do is worry, you know that,” she sighed, standing up to walk towards the cabinets behind you. She selected two matching cups that she had gotten for your birthday, one had Elsa printed on it, and the other Anna. You smiled as she placed them on the counter, knowing you always thought matching friendship objects were silly, but Nia loved it, so you loved it too. She looked vaguely at the blender, letting her shoulder weight down. “At least we have a banana smoothie.”

“And something else!” You said, jumping on your feet to get to the fridge and retrieved a tupperware. You held it in her direction and smiled, “leftover spaghetti from Joe’s!” you exclaimed, attempting to brighten her mood. She looked back at you, grabbing the container from your hands, as she tried to fight back a smile.

“Yes, how could I forget the leftover spaghetti?”

As the days passed by, the both of you had gotten more stressed out. Nia was still worried about everything related to her film project. With the days passing by and no one to fill the other role on the script, she found herself on a daily cycle of stress breakdowns.

Just two days after your former cast partner dropped out on the project to spend his week on the busy beaches of Ibiza, she had bought three different boxes of hair dyes. And as you helped her turn her hair into a light shade of pink, she cried about how everything seemed to go wrong in her life.

Meanwhile, you had been struggling to fight your procrastination tendencies and try to finish as much work as possible before spring break. A task that was showing itself to be extremely difficult, considering your mind seemed more focused on binge watching true crime shows on YouTube.

The blank document stared back at you from your computer screen, as you wished that if you looked at it for long enough, the essay would somehow write itself. Writing a couple of words but soon deleting them and going back to an empty page, you signed. Why was it so difficult to introduce a topic? You took a sip of the hot drink on the sparkly Cinderella mug you had chosen for the day, another one of Nia’s Disney-related possessions.

You frowned at the blank document, your failure to write a single paragraph still open in front of you. You heard a light knock on your bedroom door, but before you could even say anything, you spotted the already fading pink hair coming into the room.

Nia walked in jumping excitedly, saying your name in little squeals and almost tripping down as she made her way to sit on your bed in front of you. Breathing out, she looked at you with a big smile and messy hair before blurting out.

“We’ve got you a husband!” you stared back at her, arching your eyebrows. You knew she was referring to the role on the film, but you still laughed off at her choice of phrasing. “Evan got someone, it’s like his old friend or something, said he trusts him not to drop out.”

“Well, fourth time’s a charm, I guess?” you smiled at her.

“We’re planning a pizza night this Friday, so we can, you know, set the details and all that.” She properly lied down next to you, playing with the strings on the hem of your pajama shorts. “Also so you two can meet each other, of course, you’re going to be married for a week after all.”

“The way you say it seems like we’re actually doing it,” You laughed, finally closing your computer, and moving down to face her. “We’re just playing characters, Nia.”

“I know, I know… You’re really no fun, aren’t you?” She moved her arm up to support her head and poked you with her free hand as you rolled your eyes at her. “Also, he seems pretty cute, Evan showed me his picture, maybe you two can hit off.”

“I’m sure he is,” you tried not to fall for her attempt on teasing you over someone you don’t even know. Sure, you’ll be playing love interests, but you’ve done this plenty of times before, back on your theatre days. Kissing someone on stage doesn’t mean you have feelings for them in real life, and you knew that pretty well. You sighed, looking down at her, not wanting to engage into this kind of topic.

“Anyway, should we celebrate your new cast member and my inability to write a single sentence about art history?” you changed the subject, trying to distract yourself from your own thoughts. “We could watch Devil Wears Prada and make caramel popcorn.”

Nia gasped dramatically, “these are the most beautiful words I’ve ever heard coming from those pretty lips of yours,” jumping to her feet as she pulled you to stand with her. She then ran out of the room, screaming back, “I’ll get the blankets and you start with the popcorn!”

It’s been years since you’ve known Nia, but yet the dynamic between the two of you has never really changed. You’ve always considered yourself very lucky for having a friend like her in your life. From the day you met her in your English class, it was like seeing someone you had already known your entire life; it was always that easy to be with her.

You two became inseparable from day one.

Looking back, it’s crazy for you to realize how well your high school plans with each other had turned out. Most people you know had those friends in school they only really talked to because they saw them five times a week. But as soon as graduation came by they parted their ways and became only good nostalgic memories for one another. With the two of you, everything just worked out.

You both got into the university you wanted, ready to get matching art degrees. On your second year of college, you moved in together. And halfway through the course, Nia just dropped out to enroll on an eighteen months film school. And that’s when she met Nate.

You always knew she was destined to be that kind of person who just has one great love in her life. Which was funny considering that anyone who spent over five minutes with her and Nate in the same room could swear they would never work together. They just were those kinds of couples who are the polar opposite of each other.

Nia was a little social butterfly, who could start a conversation with anyone about anything. She could talk for hours with the old ladies at the grocery store about how the new brands of beans are just not as good as the ones not as well known. Or chat with the yoga moms about a new reality show that had premiered on Netflix. She loved experimenting on new things, trying out new recipes or mix distinct colors together on her clothes.

Nate, on the other hand, just wasn’t much of a talker at all. Since the start of their relationship, he often stops by at your apartment -wearing a different shade of grey every time - but it would be a lot to say that you two have had a conversation for longer than five minutes. He just mostly kept it to himself.

They balanced each other, which is why they worked so well.

It would be a lie for you to say you didn’t think about having something like that for you. You thought maybe you just weren’t the kind of person to have one meaningful relationship in your life. And that was okay. You’d like to think you’re better off on your own, anyway. But now and then you wondered how it would be to fall asleep in someone’s arms every day.

But you tried your best to keep those thoughts locked away in the back of your head. You knew that for the most part love is not really meant to last, Nia was just part of the lucky few.

The atmosphere in your shared apartment was cozy, as you waited for Evan and his friend to arrive before you started the pizza hangout, as Nia called it.

You both had spent the day tidying up the place, trying to decorate it a bit with some fairy lights and nice pillows you found in your room. It had been a long time since you had done any kind of social gathering in your home, and Nia wanted everything to be perfect. She even insisted on making the pizzas herself, which took most part of the afternoon, and a lot of bossing around on her part.

By the time the food was in the oven and the only thing left to do was wait, her boyfriend joined the two of you.

She was very talkative and bubbly, as she usually is, getting the wine bottles she selected for the evening and placing them on the counter as she chatted with him. It was nice seeing her back do being her usual self after such a stressful week.

You got the right amount of glasses, placing them next to the bottles, as you hummed along to the Declan Mckenna’s voice playing in the background. You weren’t really paying attention to Nia’s babbles, catching a word or two as she rambled about some dolphin documentary she had to watch for one of her classes. Pouring out a glass for yourself, you looked over to Nate who had a puzzled look on his face, as he tried to make sense of whatever rant his girlfriend had going on. You took a sip of your wine, and laughed lightly at yourself at the contrast between the two of them, something you had always found very amusing to observe. But before you could go further into your thoughts, the sound of the buzzer took over the small apartment.

“They’re here!” Nia gushed, as she quickly made her way out of the kitchen to get the front door, yelling back at you to get the pizzas out of the oven.

“Yes, ma’am,” you teased after she left, earning a light chuckle from Nate.

Making your way around the kitchen, you took out kitchen gloves that had figures of little chicks printed on them, giving one last check inside the oven to make sure everything was ready, before opening it and taking out the food. You could hear Nia greeting Evan excitedly in the background, as she rushed him and his friend to come inside. As their voices got closer, you turned your back to the entrance, concentrating on not burning yourself while you placed both pizzas on top of the counter.

“There’s our star!” You heard Evan’s loud voice taking over the kitchen space, making you look over your shoulder and laugh at him.

You turned around while taking off the gloves, as he pulled you into a tight hug, the strong scent of his cologne invading your nostrils. He wasn’t much taller than you, making him being considered short for a man. But his presence in a room was always so loud and bright that he seem much bigger than he actually is. You pulled back and looked at him, suddenly feeling underdressed in your own home. His entire outfit was bright red, being consisted of a jean jacket and silk pants, his eyes matching with vibrant eyeshadow taking over his whole eyelids.

“It’s very nice to see you again Evan,” you smiled at him, his hands still holding onto your shoulders as he looked warmly at you. “It’s been too long! You look fabulous!”

“Oh honey, you flatter me too much! It’s why I love coming here,” he scoffed playfully, coming to your side and wrapping one arm over your shoulder as he guided you. “But tonight is not about me, unfortunately. It’s about the two of you.”

As you finally moved your attention to the kitchen entrance, you realized another presence standing there. A man, who you assumed was Evan’s friend, already smirking down at you as both of you approached him.

You suddenly felt nervous under his stare while you could hear Evan commenting on something you didn’t really pay attention to. You had been taken completely by surprise by the man standing in front of you. Sure, Nia had mentioned to you once or twice that he was good looking, but you were not expecting this.

It was a weird feeling, being this affected by someone you had just met, but you would have to be blind not to notice. His face was beautiful, a sharp jawline contrasting his soft skin, his fingers poked at his bottom lip as he smirked, you could notice the hint of a dimple forming on his cheek. His hair was short, but still long enough to see the shape of slight curls forming in it, some locks falling charmingly against his forehead. But what hit you the most were his eyes, thanks to the dim lighting you couldn’t really tell if they were a shade of forest green or more of a hazel tone, but you could feel your cheeks warming up from the way he watched you as you got closer.

His shoulders were broad, as he was leaning against the entrance, the hand that wasn’t poking at his lip resting inside the pocket of his brown pair of trousers. He wore a blank white shirt, partly tucked in, underneath a beige cardigan. The sleeves had been rolled up to his elbows, making you notice the tattoos hugging the skin of his arms. You felt a curious wish to know how many more you could find under all the layers of clothing..

As you and Evan got closer, he moved from his leaning position to stand tall in front of you. The smile never leaving his lips, and his eyes still watching you closely.

“So, darling, meet Harry,” Evan spoke up, gesturing you towards his friend. “He’s a pest, but I’m sure you’ll get along just fine”

“Way to give a first impression, E,” Harry rolled his eyes at his friend’s teasing, before turning his attention back to you. He moved closer, embracing you into a side hug “S lovely to meet you-”

You quickly cleared your throat, afraid that your voice would give you away, before saying your name. The attempt didn’t really seem to work, as your words came out higher than you had intended. You could feel Nia’s gaze turning to you on the corner of your eye, but tried your best to ignore it. He repeated it, before shooting a smile in your direction, the sound of his deep voice and the way his lips circled around the words making the hairs behind your neck rise.

“Okay! So how about we move this party to the living room?” Nia’s voice broke into the atmosphere. “Everyone can get their wine glasses and make themselves comfortable while y/n and I finish arranging the pizzas.”

She shot you a knowing look, before moving to get the wine bottles and handing them to Nate. Everyone shifted to get their glasses and settle in the other room, leaving you and Nia alone.

You moved to get the knives and looked at the pizzas standing on the counter in front of you, calculating how you could cut out even slices on each. You could see your friend from the corner of your eye leaning on the counter staring directly at you.

“You know you can’t fool me even for a second, miss,” she teased, you could hear the smirk on her voice.

“I’m not doing anything,” you murmured, still not looking in her direction. She scoffed, elbowing you lightly as she mimicked you, saying your name in a high-pitched voice. You shot her a dirty look before shushing her, afraid the guest in the other room could hear her teasing. “I didn’t sound like that!”

“Oh please! You should have seen how you looked at him!” She rolled her eyes at you, “thought you were gonna drop down on your knees right then and there!”

“Nia!” you screamed in a whisper, your cheeks warming up at her words as you pinched her, making her squeal. You quickly shot a look at the entrance to see if anyone might’ve heard her, but they seemed to be enrolled in their own conversation. “Let’s just get this done quickly before they suspect we’re in here for too long.”

“Okay, cheeky girl,” she bit her lip and moved to get a knife to cut one pizza, but still eyeing you with a slight smile, leaning in one last time, “but I told you he was cute.”

Eventually, the two of you finished sorting out the pizza slices and joined everyone in the living room. Nia then rushed to join her boyfriend on the loveseat, leaving the only spot available for you being between Harry and Evan on the couch. She shot you a teasing smile, but you tried your best to ignore it and focus on finishing the wine glass you had poured for yourself earlier.

“Okay, so I’m going to need everyone to eat the food and tell me how good it is,” Nia pointed out to the center table where the pieces of pizza laid upon, “I’ve spent the entire afternoon on these babies, so eat up!”

“You know that I’ve helped you with them, right?” you added, squinting your eyes at her, “some credit wouldn’t hurt.”

“You only laid the toppings on the dough so they would look even,” she snapped back pointing a finger at you, “I did all the hard work, so shush it.”

But before anyone could move to get a slice, Evan was already stretching out his arms to stop you from moving. “Wait a second,” he spoke, “I feel like I’ve watched enough seasons of MasterChef to be the first one to judge.”

“I mean, you are the best critic I know,” Nia pointed, leaning in to get a slice and offering to Evan, “but again, I don’t really know any other critics.” She humored as he took the food, making a show of analyzing it.

Everyone waited expectantly as Evan bit into the pizza slice, keeping a straight face that didn’t reveal much of his opinions. Nia leaned in his direction, nervously biting her bottom lip as she waited for his final verdict.

“You have to be honest,” she warned, observing him, “but know that I can get my feelings hurt pretty easily.”

“I don’t mind that,” Evan finally said, straightening his posture as he looked back to Nia’s waiting eyes, “I’ll say that it’s not the best pizza I’ve ever had,” he announced, “but it works.”

“You know what, I take it,” everyone laughed lightly as Nia visibly released a breath she had been holding in, “It’s not a bad review for a first time.”

The hours went by quickly as you eased into a conversation with everyone. It was nights like this you missed the most when the stress of all the accumulative work weighted on your shoulders. Having a more of a cool night to hangout with a few friends, drinking some wine and chatting about whatever topic came to mind.

As time passed, you could tell Nia and Evan got more agitated, probably due to the amount of wine they had consumed without even realizing. They chatted excitingly about Midsommar, their voices raising a bit too loud. But every time you tried to shush them, jokingly reminding of the neighbors next door, they would soon forget about it again. You watched them babble, giggling when they would get excited on a certain topic and start to trip over a few words.

You also felt lighter because of the alcohol, not as much as them, but still enough so you could feel your chest warmer and your mind a bit dizzy. You still felt an annoying tingle at the pit of your stomach when you felt Harry’s eyes fixating on you when you spoke, or when your hands brushed as you reached for the bottle at the center table. It was silly, and it made you feel like a teenager being in the presence of an attractive boy for the first time.

When it all quiet down eventually, Nia had dragged Evan to her room so he could give an insight on how she could decorate it. It was something she would do now and then, give her room a big renovation so the change in the space could make her more motivated, or something like that. Sometimes, if she felt inspired enough, she would change around the living area or even your own room - when you allowed her, of course.

Nate was still sitting on the loveseat looking like he was about to fall asleep at any moment as he scrolled through his phone. He hadn’t spoken a lot during the night, which wasn’t unusual for him, but he still managed to chat for a bit.

That left you and Harry alone sitting on the main couch, with one person less it left you enough space to cross your legs, making yourself more comfortable. He was sitting on his side, his back resting on the big pillows by the arm of the couch, his chest turned towards you.

You reached for the wine bottle at the center table, realizing there was just a bit left, enough for a last glass for the two of you. “Wanna help me finish it?” You turned to him with the bottle in your hand. He had a smile resting on his lips, as he raised his glass toward you so you could pour the liquid into it. You could tell his eyes were a bit cloudy, but you knew none of you had had enough to be drunk.

“Thank you, love,” he said, the raspiness on his voice as he spoke the pet name making the hairs in the back of your neck rise. You poured yourself the rest of the wine left, emptying the bottle as you settled it back where you got it. “Should we make a toast?”

“Sure,” you replied easily, smiling at him, “what should we toast for?”

He looked away, puckering his lips slightly as he made a puzzled expression, a hand scratching at his chin as if in deep thought. You giggled at his dramatics before he pointed his finger up, his face turning into a big smile. He raised his glass in your direction, as you did the same. “A toast for being husband and wife?”

You chuckled, clinking your glasses together, “that’s fair,” you said, “ ‘s why we’re here after all, isn’t it?” you joked, taking a sip of your drink before settling it down on your lap.

“Sure is,” he mimicked, rising his glass to his lips, a smirk still adorning them as he managed to not break eye contact. He took a small sip before settling his glass back on the table. He scratched the tip of his nose slightly with the side of his finger, before he relaxed back on the couch. “So” he spoke up, bringing your attention to him, “E told me you’re an actual actress,” he raised his eyebrows at you, “made me a bit nervous, love.”

“That right there is a lie,” you chuckled, biting your lip and shaking your head. “I used to do theatre back in the day, haven’t done any acting for years though.”

“A theatre kid, huh?” He laughed as you rolled your eyes jokingly.

“I’m aware we have a poor reputation, yes,” you said, “I reckon we deserve it, but we weren’t that bad, I promise.”

He giggled, making your heart skip a beat at the sound. His smile was something you could easily get used to, the way it formed crinkles in his eyes and the dimples deep on his cheeks. You had to stop yourself for staring too much, moving your gaze to the glass on your lap.

“People are too harsh on theatre kids,” he reassured, “I think it seems pretty fun — only time I did it was when I played Elvis when I was about five, I think.” He added, resting his arm against the couch, his hand just a few inches away from your shoulders. “Had the time o’my life though.”

“You got main character though, that’s impressive,” you expressed, raising a hand to poke at his side playfully. “Have you done anything since your big debut as the king?”

“Can’t say I have, no,” he chuckled, “guess this is my big comeback, maybe I’ll get a call from broadway soon.”

“I’m sure you will!” You giggled, taking another sip from the glass in your hand.

You found it easy to dive into a conversation with him. You were both giggly from the wine, but it still seemed like you could stay like this for hours on end, just talking to each other.

He told you he wasn’t planning on doing the film, considering he never really thought about acting. But when Evan asked him if he could be part of it, he saw how desperate he was to fill the role, so he agreed. It warmed your heart to hear how fondly he spoke about his friend, telling you how willing he was to help, even if it involved doing something out of his comfort zone.

You two bounded over your mutual wish to become teachers. You found out he was studying Literature, a choice that for him as an easy one, considering throughout his life he had always been an avid reader. He said no matter how harsh thing got, he always found an escape between books, you could tell how passionate he was about it as he spoke about his favorite reads.

Eventually, you could hear voices coming closer from Nia’s room, as they seemed to be gushing about the filming that was starting soon.

As Evan came into the room, he made his way to the couch, placing his hand on Harry’s shoulders. “Honey, as much as I wish we could stay here ‘til dawn, I’m afraid we must get going.”

With his declaration, everyone moved around to gather the dishes splattered across the center table to put it all at the kitchen counter. After some insisting -mostly on Harry’s part- on helping with cleaning, you convinced them you two could handle the task just fine. And they were the guests, after all.

Finally, you said your goodbyes, pulling Evan on a small hug, assuring him you’d do your best to do his script justice.

And as you came to face Harry, he leaned into a hug, giving you a last kiss on the cheek, before telling you how lovely it had been to meet you.

You had woken up with your door opening abruptly, making you jump a bit from the sudden change in the peaceful atmosphere from your deep slumber. Before you could process the situation in hand, Nia was already pulling out the covers and spitting out words at a faster pace than you could comprehend in your mind state.

“Get up already! We are very late,” She urged as you lazily scratched at your eyes before sitting up to look at her. “Evan is going to kill us!” She cried out.

Your head pounded slightly, making you search for your water bottle previously prompted by yourself the night before, knowing you would need it in the morning. You reached for it in your nightstand, taking big gulps as you watched amusingly Nia run around your room picking random clothes and throwing it in a duffel bag you had just noticed.

Resting the bottle down on your lap, you yawned lightly, still in the process of waking up. “Calm down Ni,” you mumbled, “We still have time, we’re only leaving at like, two.”

She looked back at you as if you had just slapped her across the face, your shirt falling partly from her hand. “It’s already one,” she informed, making your eyes bulge as you reached to check on your phone, confirming as it read 1:16pm. “We don’t even have our bags packed AND we got a sink full of dishes to wash.”

The minutes after that were rushed, as you two did your best to get ready as fast as possible. Mentally slapping yourself for leaving everything for the last minute, but still managing to pack your bag in record speed.

But as time passed and the list of things to do was still far from over, Nia phoned Evan and let him know you would need a few more hours to be ready to leave. To say he wasn’t the happiest about the news was an understanding, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.

A couple hours later you were finally packed, and after a quick stop to shop for road trip snacks you were off on the road.

You left much later than planned, and even if it wasn’t that much of a long drive, it was still 3 hours until you got there. The ride itself was mostly quiet, except from Lorde’s Melodrama playing softly in the background. You hummed along to the words, but apart from that there wasn’t a lot of talking between the two of you, all due to the limited amount of sleep you got from the previous night.

As you got closer, the scenery of open grass camps and blooming flowers at the peak of spring was a peaceful change of scene from the busy city streets you were used to. And when you finally got to the house, the sun was almost setting on the horizon. The sky being a satisfying mixture of blue and orange. There was a car already parked in, and as you got closer, you could see two figures sitting on the front stairs.

Getting out of the car, you quickly made your way to where they stood. “Have you been waiting long?” Nia asked as you got closer to them.

“Longer than I was planning to, I’ll say that,” Evan replied, taking off his sunglasses to greet you.

Harry came up from behind him, looking incredibly cozy wearing a knitted cream sweater. It took everything in you not to nuzzle on him as he met you with a quick embrace. You had to focus on keeping your breathing steady as you looked up at him when you parted. The sun coming from behind you doing wonders as it hit his face perfectly. His eyes were the prettiest shade of green as he smiled down at you before moving to greet Nia.

“We’ve been here fo’ ten minutes, don’t listen to him,” he assured with a small laugh.

The house itself was much bigger than you expected, it wasn’t huge, by any means, but you had pictured a small cottage with barely any space for the four of you. The place, however, was big enough for you to have your privacy but still small enough to feel cozy and welcoming.

You quickly found there were three rooms, and despite you arguing you didn’t mind sharing one with Nia, considering you two lived together, she still insisted that you and Harry had your own bedrooms. It was her way of thanking you for agreeing to help them.

After you got established in your respective room, you met everyone down at the kitchen. The place was loud with chatter as they played around while making dinner. Nia seemed to boss the boys around to cut the vegetables properly, as she concentrated on figuring out how to work the old stove. They laughed lightly as she cussed under her breath in frustration after another failed attempt. You watched quietly for a moment, before joining in to help her.

You finally turned the stove on with the help of a few matches you found laying on the counter, being able to cook with no more trouble. It was already getting late when you finished eating and gathered the dishes to lay them on the sink. Still, Nia insisted on watching one of the movies she had carefully selected on her extended collections of DvDs to bring with her.

You decided to make yourself some tea while the rest of them moved around to arrange themselves for the movie night. After offering if anyone else wanted a cup as well, you were met with Harry’s warm smile as he accepted shyly.

Soon enough everyone settled down on the big couch to watch the movie. Evan took his place on one of the armchairs, while Harry opted to sit by the end of the couch, setting his legs on the footrest in front of him. As you walked in with your mugs, he gazed up at you, shooting a soft smile and muttering a quick ‘thank you’ as you handed him his drink.

He patted the spot next to him, indicating for you to sit, to which you happily obliged.

“Wanna share?” he asked, holding up a blanket that lied at the arm of the couch. “There’s jus’ three of ‘em.”

“Sure,” you replied, moving to pull the blanket, so it was covering the two of you. You knew very well you could always get an extra one from one of the bedrooms, but you would never bring yourself to suggest it.

Finally, Nia entered the room with a small pack of m&m’s on one of her hands and the DvD case for ‘Love Actually’ on the other. She was quick to insert it on the player before settling down next to you. Pulling out the leftover blanket for herself, she lied down to rest her head comfortably on top of your legs.

It didn’t take long until she fell in deep slumber, cuddling up on your lap as soft snores left her lips. You pouted slightly down at her. The poor thing was exhausted from driving all the way, and the bad night of sleep the day before.

As the movie progressed, you could feel your eyelids getting heavier as well, the words coming from Keira Knightley’s mouth becoming more of a background noise as you fought to keep yourself awake. But before you could doze off, you felt Harry shifting slightly next to you. Suddenly feeling his arm hugging your shoulders, as he gently pulled you closer.

You moved your head to look at him but before you could say anything he shushed you softly and pulled you back in. “ ‘S fine, love,” he whispered, “can see that you’re tired.”

And with a half-woken mind and heavy eyelids you laid back on his shoulder and allowed yourself to snooze.

You woke up with him shifting again from under you, opening your eyes slowly to find the end credits rolling up the screen in front of you. You yawned lightly before sitting up, being careful not to wake a still-very-much-asleep Nia on your lap.

“Sorry,” you heard Harry say as you scratched at your eyes, “didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s fine,” you assured, your voice a bit raspy from your nap, “would have to happen, eventually.” You looked down at the unconscious girl lying on you, knowing you had to get her to bed so she could sleep properly. “We should wake her.”

“Want me to carry her to her room?” he asked.

“I think she’ll be okay,” you replied, gently calling her name so she could slowly wake up.

Surely, it didn’t take a lot of coaxing to get her eyelid to flutter open, as she lazily rose from her sleep.

You helped her to her room, afraid she’d trip down the stair in her hazy state of mind, still half asleep as she dragged her feet across the floor.

As soon as she laid down in her bed, you made your way back to the kitchen to fix yourself a glass of water so you could go to sleep.

It surprised you to find Harry still awake as you entered the space; he looked up at you from his position leaning on the counter with his phone in his hand. Quickly placing it in his back pocket as he saw you coming in, giving you a slight smile. “Thought you’d gone to bed.”

You reached for the cabinet Nia had pointed you to earlier where the cups were placed, picking one with little thought and closing it. “Just came here for a glass of water,” you spoke, moving the cup under the tap, “always have one next to my bed, y’know, in case I get thirsty and stuff.” You shook your head slightly, not wanting to ramble about the benefits of staying hydrated during the night just to make a conversation.

“Smart girl,” he joked, causing you to chuckle as you felt blush creeping out on your cheeks. You could see him coming closer to stand next to you from the corner of your eye, which didn’t help the tingly feeling forming at the pit of your stomach. “Excited fo’ tomorrow?” he asked, crossing his arms on top of the counter as he leaned next to you.

“Guess I am,” you answered, looking up at him and finding he was closer than you had realized. You smiled nervously as you met his eyes gazing down at you, before clearing your throat lightly. “What about you?”

“To be honest ‘m a bit nervous, love,” he confessed.

“Why’s that?”

“I mean,” he started, his eyes still fixed on you, “ ‘s not every day I get to pretend ‘m married to a pretty girl like you.”

You could feel your heart skip a beat as he reached one of his hands to move a strand of your hair behind your ear. He kept his hand on your cheek just as his eyes seemed to gaze down at your lips, so subtly that it felt like you might’ve imagined it.

The silence in the room was loud as you could almost hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears, as he leaned down just barely, getting closer to you. He looked down one more time at your lips, this time making sure you realized the unspoken question behind that action. You suddenly felt water pouring through your fingers, as the forgotten cup in your hand overflowed. This caused you to jump back a bit, quickly turning the tap off and resting the glass on the counter.

“Oh my god,” you squeak, reaching out for a towel right next to the sink to dry your hand. “I’m sorry, that was-” you chuckled, glancing at Harry who seemed to watch you with an amused expression. “That was awkward, sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” He assured, picking the full glass and moving it in the counter so it was out of your reach. “ ‘t was actually quite cute,” he moved closer to you again, reaching his hand to hold at your jawline.

You held back your breath as you felt his own hitting the top of your upper lip, your noses brushing slightly.

“Been wanting to do this fo’ a bit now, love,” he spoke a bit above a whisper, his deep voice sending chills down your spine and making you grab at his sweater, ”would you let me?” his thumb caressed your cheek lovingly, “would you let me kiss you?”

You could feel your heart beating strongly against your rib cages, swallowing hard as you looked up at him. He was watching you closely, his dark emerald irises gazing down at you as your lips barely brushed. You nodded at him, trying to pull him closer.

“Use your words, darling,” he insisted, not budging from his position. “Wanna hear you say it.”

“Please, Harry I-” you moved your hand to grasp on his waist, “just —kiss me.”

Giving a satisfied hum, he finally leaned down, closing the space between the two of you. His hand remained stroking your cheek softly, as the other sneaked under your neck.

He moved his lips ever so slightly, his cupid bow founding its way above your inner lip, sucking on it gently. The kiss was teasingly slow, making you hyper aware of all of your senses. Your hands feeling the soft fabric of his sweater, grabbing at it as if asking for more.

He moved the hand on your neck, pulling gently at your hair, making you angle your head up a bit. As his tongue poked to lick at your bottom lip, you opened your mouth, deepening the kiss.

You stayed like this for a while, pressed against the kitchen wall as you enjoyed the taste of each other.

When you pulled back, he splattered a few kisses along your cheek, giving one last peck on your mouth before pulling back.

“As much as I don’t want to end this now,” he muttered, moving his hand, so they were both holding your cheeks, “We should get some sleep fo’ tomorrow.”

“We should,” you agreed.

“We’ll get the chance to do this again,” he said, making you bite down a smile at the innuendo behind his words.

He gave you one last kiss before pulling away completely, reaching for the glass of water you had already forgotten about on the counter and handing it to you.

You walked back to your rooms without saying a word, but still sharing glances and smiles along the way. And as you got to your respective rooms, you whispered quiet good nights before parting ways and closing the door behind you.

The days that followed were rushed, considering the filming had officially started. You two barely had the chance to be alone again, which was disappointing. But still you couldn’t find yourself time to miss the feel of having his soft lips against yours, considering the scenes you had with each other. What you did miss was being able to kiss him without it being written in a piece of paper, or having someone from outside tell you to. You missed the intimacy of feeling his tongue meet your own and having his hands pulling you close as you both craved for more. You missed the shared secret between just the two of you, that was knowing how it felt to have him all to yourself.

It was discomforting, earning for someone you barely even know. Jumping into a feeling you know there’s no way can end well. You both were playing characters. Lovers, yes, but it was all pretend. It didn’t help that he was so good at it. In front of the cameras he would be so loving that you often wondered how much of it was just part of the act.

It was subtle things that made you think of it, like a glance across the room between takes. Him leaning close to you every time they called you to watch back something you had just recorded. Or when he sucked in your lip during a scene, so softly you could barely notice but still made your heart skip a beat.

But as much as it was nice to pretend that you two had some shared secret, you knew that the most likely scenario was that he was just doing his work and being friendly. So you tried your best to convince yourself that all of it was just your mind playing tricks, this way you could prevent yourself from inevitably getting hurt. That encounter in the kitchen was most likely his way of making things less awkward to when you inevitably would have to do it in front of a camera. That was it, nothing more.

It seemed to have worked pretty well, you two had the chemistry Evan hoped for when he wrote his script. Nia kept teasing you with every given opportunity. You didn’t tell her about the late night kitchen situation, but you knew she could sense the ‘chemistry’ was not simply because you two were just that good at acting. No one was complaining though, considering everything was going so smoothly they suspected it could be wrapped up even earlier than expected.

Every time they would mention the possibility, you found yourself wishing deep down something would set you back on the schedule. You felt bad for it, and you never voice your inner thoughts, but you knew wrapping up early meant going home early, and you were getting a bit too comfortable getting to act all loved up on camera.

As if some kind of outer force had listened to your wishes, just as you were halfway throughout the week, mother nature seemed to be your biggest ally.

You had just woken up with the annoying tune of your alarm clock, one you had chosen for finding it soothing at first. But you soon found that those sounds are not meant to feel soothing at all, as it woke you from your deep slumber. You were quick to turn it off before rubbing your eyes softly and enjoying the warmth of your bed for a few more minutes. You could hear the gentle sounds of raindrops hitting your window, but barely paid any attention to it as you rose lazily, stretching your arms above your head.

Making your way down the stairs you first noticed Evan standing by the big window in the living room, looking out with a hand resting on his hip and the other one holding a mug. Behind him, in one of the armchairs, sat Harry, also drinking out of a mug as he read a book quietly. But as if he felt your presence as you got to the bottom of the staircase, he looked up, smiling at you as you made your way into the room.

“G’morning,” he spoke, alerting the man by the window of your presence as he turned around to look at you.

“Good morning,” you said back, before realizing the worried expression on Evan’s face, “is everything okay?”

“A disaster just happened, honey, look out the windows!” he snapped, gesturing behind him where you could see the rain hitting the glass. The sky was dark with clouds, suggesting it was just the beginning of the storm that was to come. You looked back with a puzzled expression, knowing the weather was not the best, but as far as you remembered you had already shot all the scenes you needed outside. Evan rolled his eyes, “our natural light is gone, honey, it’s too dark to shoot!” he barked.

“Hey, no need to yell at her like tha’,” Harry looked back at his friend, attempting to calm him down, “ ‘s fine, we were early on schedule anyway, one day is not gonna delay it.”

He shot a look at Harry, his hand finding its way back on his waist as he let out a deep breath. “I’m sorry, this is just incredibly frustrating.”

You smiled at him to assure it was fine, knowing how much stress he was putting on because of this project. “Doesn’t Nia have one of those light things you were using the other day to make the scene brighter?” You suggested.

Evan sighed, “that’s a reflector, it just— well, reflects the light, we would need the sun for it to work, and seems like she’s not showing her face anytime soon,” he weightened his shoulders down, clearly feeling defeated. “I guess today is our off day — we should use it to pray for sunlight tomorrow, otherwise I’m pulling my hair off.”

When Nia woke up, you could tell she was not happy at all with the news that filming had to be cancelled for the time being. She spent the whole breakfast whining and crying about the poor weather. You tried your best to console her, but knowing your friend you knew her dramatics showed off when she worried about something. She tended to overthink every scenario that could go wrong, which did nothing to help the pressure she put on herself.

The day went on as eventless as it possibly could, the rain outside just seeming to get angrier as time passed by. You did your best to distract Nia from her own head, asking her about the recent documentaries she had watched, knowing she could go on tangents for hours. You talked about crime shows you have started before filming and shared different theories you had on them. You even listened to her deep analysis of trashy reality shows she loved to watch and always tried to drag you to get into it.

You talked and talked with no end, considering there wasn’t much else to do. Nia’s aunt hated computers and refused to install any kind of wifi, leaving you with a shitty connection that barely loaded a five-minute video.

As the evening came by, and the raindrops still hit angrily at the windows, you decided to watch another movie — this time it was Evan’s choice of Freaky Friday.

You volunteered to grab the blankets from the cabinets on the second floor, while Nia excitedly announced she would make popcorn for everyone.

Quickly moving along the hallway, you made your way in front of the doors and opened them. You could hear footsteps coming up the stairs as you tiptoed to reach the top shelf where the soft blanket you had used the first night lied on top of.

“Need help?” You heard a voice approach, looking over your shoulder to find Harry walking towards you with an amused expression on his face. You nodded, chuckling as you quickly stepped out of the way to allow him to take your place. He reached up, easily retrieving the blanket and giving it to you.

“Thank you,” you muttered, looking up at him for a moment.

“No problem, darlin’,” he said, fetching two other blankets before closing one door with a swing of his hip. You closed the other one with a small giggle. You started to quietly move along towards the staircase when he cleared his throat, causing you to look up at him. He kept his gaze down before speaking softly, “After the movie, think I’ll go back to my room a bit early,” he looked at you for a moment, “ ‘f you want to join me.”

You stopped walking to look at him arching your eyebrows surprised, not expecting this kind of proposal at this moment. He stopped a step ahead of you, staring back with nervous eyes and shooting you a shy smile. “I’m not saying we have to do anything, I just-” he spluttered, “just wanted to be with you, without the camera and stuff.”

You smiled at him, “of course,” you voiced, “sounds nice.”

Shortly, you found yourself in the same position as the first day. Sharing a blanket with Harry, but this time Nia was wide awake next to you with a bucket of popcorn plopped on her lap. Some people would consider her to be the worst kind of person to watch movies with, considering she would always get too excited and comment on every scene she could. You had gotten so used to it with time, that it felt weird watching a movie without her voice interrupting a scene every five minutes.

It got hard to concentrate on this one in particular, and not because of Nia’s speaking over the lines, but the sudden feeling of Harry’s hand resting on your knee halfway through it. Your legs were crossed on top of the couch, making part of it rest slightly on top of his as he eased his thumb over your skin.

As time passed, he moved his hand up a bit, finding its final place on your inner thigh, causing goosebumps to arise on the back of your neck as he caressed it softly. You caught yourself holding your breath multiple times, something he was also probably aware of, considering the position of his arm on the side of your chest.

The tension between you two was almost palpable as the end credits rolled up. At that point you had prompted yourself to lean your head on his shoulders. He grasped your skin slightly before removing his hand and motioning his position to get up, making you pull back from him.

“‘m going back to my room now,” he announced as he got up, shooting you a knowing look, “g’night.”

You stayed back for a few minutes so as not to look too suspicious, folding up the blanket you had used and scrolling through your phone for a bit. Not long after you excused yourself, climbing the stairs two steps at a time.

You found him in the hallway, leaning in on the wall right next to his door as he looked down on his phone. As he felt your presence he gazed up, grinning softly before bringing his finger above his lips as to warn you to stay quiet.

The two rushed inside his room, trying to be as quiet as possible, considering your friends downstairs could come up at any second. He closed the door behind him, looking right at you as he leaned back. His room was similar to yours, the difference being a few more clothes lying on top of the small couch standing at the corner. The curtains hanging on the big windows were pushed open, allowing the moonlight from the now-clear sky to illuminate the place.

Your breath got caught in your throat as you stared back at him, meeting his dark irises. He started stepping closer to you until he could lean his forehead against yours. His hands found their way caressing your jawline, one of them going as far as to pulling lightly on the hair above your neck. You held your breath, gazing up at him as you waited for his next move.

He smiled lazily, brushing his nose against your softly before placing a peck to the corner of your lips. He was teasing you, his hand leaving your hair to find its way down your body, paying special attention to the side of your breast before placing itself holding your waist.

You swallowed dryly, feeling your heart speed up as you pulled him closer, wanting desperately to close the space between the two of you. Too scared that your voice would give out your desperation, you moved one of your hands to the back of his neck and pulled him in. He didn’t think twice before finally closing the space and allowing you to feel his lips against yours.

The kiss started slow, both of you still trying to figure it out how it was to taste each other like this. His lips were soft, moving teasingly as he sucked on your bottom lip. Your hand pulled his hair gently, causing him to whine into mouth, licking at your tongue as he deepened the kiss. The hand on your waist moved up, caressing the side of your breast softly as he tried to pull you in as close as possible.

He started easing you backwards, considering neither of you were willing to break the kiss to watch where you were going. You felt the mattress of his bed hitting the back of your knees. You allowed him to lay you into the bed, parting for a moment so you could move upwards, laying your head on the pillows. Shortly enough he joined you, placing his elbows on both sides of your head, not wasting any time before closing the space between your mouths again.

The two of you stayed like this for a while. Slowly kissing each other, as your arm found its way back behind his neck and one of his hand caressed your cheek. You could get used to this, with him being the only thing you could sense. His taste. His touch. His scent.

He was all you could think about.

When you finally pulled back, you could see his red, puffy lips even with the limited amount of lighting going into the room.

He looked into your eyes for a moment, “you look so pretty like this, darling,” he murmured, his voice just above a whisper, sending chills down your spine. “Could eat you up.”

A small whimper left your mouth, as he dove back in to spread kissed along your cheek and down your throat. You bit hard into your lip and swallowed back a moan as he sucked in a spot right below your jawline. You could feel him grinding his hips down on your tights, making you aware of the growing bulge inside his sweats.

You placed your hand on his shoulders, pushing him gently and disconnecting him from your neck. He pulled back, looking back at you with a puzzled look. You kept pushing him until his shoulders hit the mattress, reverting the previous position you both were in, as you stranded his waist.

Looking down at him, you wanted so badly to discover his body, to make him feel good. So you took the same position he had on you. Placing your lips against his neck and running your tongue against it, sucking in his skin. You kept doing it as your hand smoothed down his body, finding the hem of his shirt and lifting it enough so you could scratch at his love handles. He gave you a small moan, a sound so delicious to hear you that made you want to swallow him whole.

Both his hands found their place on your waist, pressing you down so you could feel his need between your tights. You quickly pulled your head from his neck, giving him a soft peck on the lips.

“Please, love, just-” he grunted, looking up at you with pleading eyes. “Just do something, please, I-“

His hands gripped tightly on your waist as you rolled your hips against him. Neither of you could contain your moans as you repeated the movement, even fully clothed his bulge rubbed deliciously against the place you needed it the most.

You leaned down again, this time pushing his shirt up as you made your way down his body, splattering open-mouthed kisses along his warm chest. You paid a special mind to the tattoos you met along the way, sucking spots over the wings of a butterfly inked on his stomach. As you licked along the leaves of the ferns that adorned his love handles, you felt one of his hands tangling in your hair, his hips rising slightly as he whimpered.

“A bit impatient, you are,” you spoke, feeling his belly tighten as you placed a playful bite under his belly button, causing another moan to leave his lips.

“Darlin’, please,” he whined, “Just- fuck, just need you right now.”

You decided not to tease him for too long, considering you needed it just as much as he did. Finally, you moved down once more to place a kiss above the hard on over his pants. He lifted his head, watching your every move as his hand that was placed on your hair pushed some strands away from your forehead. You wrapped your hand around the hem of his sweats, rising your eyebrows at him as you felt he wasn’t wearing any underpants. The thought of having such easy access to him making you press your thighs together, feeling your wetness already damping your underwear

Slowly, you bit your bottom lip, keeping your gaze focused on him as you moved his sweats down, he raised his hips as to help you out. Once his cock was fully out, you stared back down at it lying proudly against his stomach. You ran your fingers gently along his length, causing him to hold his breath, his abdomen tightening once more. He was definitely bigger than anyone you had ever been with, causing your mouth to water a bit and your thighs to press together once again at the thought of fully having him.

You could feel him peering down at you as you wrapped your hands around the base and applied the smallest amount of pressure. The precum was already escaping from the tip and sliding down the tiniest bit.

Moving your head forward you looked back at his waiting eyes, spitting on top of the head as you moved your hand up caressing it. This time he gave you an actual moan, throwing his head back at the pillows behind him.

Looking down at him, you didn’t know where to place your lips first, wanting to bite and lick every part of his body. Finally deciding on sucking a spot on his thigh, right next to where rested an ink of a tiger head.

You kept the movement of your hand, twisting it and applying more pressure eventually as you watched him shift around under you. He raised his hips slightly as he pleaded under his breath for more, his hand firmly on top of your head as the other was thrown above his own.

You moved your thumb to run across his slit, caressing the head with a flick of your wrist as you moved your mouth to place kisses at the base. At this point he became a moaning mess, throwing his arm over his mouth as to muffle the sounds while you licked up his shaft.

“God- fuck- such a good girl,” he moaned on his arm, moving it out of the way so he could look down at you. “Doing so good, you feel so good- shit.”

Smiling at him, you jerked him off a couple of times before resting your hand at the base so you could replace it with your mouth.

You licked around his head, giving it a small kiss before you moved down as far as you could go. He cried out, tightening his grip on your hair and moving his hips up to meet your movements as you sucked on him.

He was desperate to reach his climax, and you were desperate to see him cum undone under your touch. So you started speeding up, your mouth licking at his veins, your hand helping you as you moved it along his dick. He was cursing and moaning over you, pleading for you not to stop. You kept moving your hand as you licked at his head once more before detaching so you could look up at him with pleading eyes.

“Almost there?” you asked, having him nod frantically at you, “will you let me have a taste?”

That seemed to do it for him, as he pushed your head back down, making you attach your lips to his head as you felt him shoot his load inside your mouth. You milked him as he came down from his high, feeling his softness on your lips as you swallowed down.

You sat up and looked down at his hazy eyes while he calmed down with heavy breaths. He adjusted his sweats quickly before moving himself up to pull you in for a frantic kiss. “God, darling, you’re a dream,” he spoke between kisses, his hands gripping at your waist as he positioned you to lie on top of him, moving one of them under your shirt, pulling it up slowly.

You quickly placed your hand on top of his stopping him from going further as you detached from him. He furrowed his brows at you. “I should go back to my room,” you said, “got an early day tomorrow.”

He gave you a puzzled look, “but you still haven’t- “

“it’s okay,” you interrupted, moving to get up from his bed, suddenly feeling nervous under his gaze, “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Good night!”

You left his room before he could protest, wanting to slap yourself from running away like this.

The next morning was thankfully much brighter than the one before, with sunlight shining through the windows at the earliest hours. You didn’t get a lot of sleep, tossing and turning around, replaying the previous night in your head. The thought of what could’ve happened if you had stayed imprinted itself in your mind. You started to overthink it. What did he even think of you? After running away like that?

Your thoughts consumed you as you sat in of the stools in the kitchen by yourself, for the first time being the first to be awake. Your coffee running cold by the minute, as you frowned to yourself, taking a sip every so often.

It didn’t take long until you didn’t find yourself alone anymore, having Evan join you as he happily cheered about the nice weather. You nodded along to him, not really in the mood for talking as you anxiously poked at your nails.

It was when you walked towards the sink to wash your used mug that you saw Harry walking into the kitchen. His hair messy and his eyes sleepy, making you annoyed at how charming he managed to look even after just getting out of bed.

He greeted you with a raspiness to his voice, his eyes lingering on you a moment too long as he smirked before moving to the cabinets. He stood next to you while you washed the dishes, grabbing himself a bowl while he worked on his breakfast.

Yours arms would brush every so often as you moved while doing your tasks, making you gaze at him. He kept a grin sitting on his face as he casually made a conversation with Evan, his dimple poking out the smallest bit, but still not looking back at you.

As soon as you were finished you left for your bedroom so you could get ready for the day, but not before sparing one last glance at Harry. This time his eyes were already trained on you as he chewed slowly his fruit salad. You felt your cheeks getting a bit warm from the eye contact, making you look down and leave the room with a speeding heart.

The work started early, as you ran around to keep up with the schedule after losing one day of productivity.

Harry seemed to be in it for teasing you. His touches lingered longer than needed. His kisses were harsher, the need behind them being almost palpable. His gaze on you told you something you couldn’t really tell exactly what it was. Lust? Desire? You weren’t entirely sure, but every time you caught him watching you felt a warmth take over your face.

In one occasion, between takes, as Nia and Evan discussed the best position for the camera considering her broken tripod. You stood awkwardly waiting for their instructions as you played with the hem of your dress. You could feel him staring closely, looking up to find him with the same smirk he gave you in the morning. He looked quickly over your friends who were still trying to figure out the problem before leaning up close to you “Still haven’t let me have a taste, love,” he said quiet enough to that just you could hear, the words sending a chill down your spine and making your core twitch as you glanced back at him.

That same night, after you announced you’d tuck yourself in, just as you changed into your pajama shorts, you heard a soft knock on your door. You opened up to see his darkened irises staring back at you as he quietly let himself in. And within a few minutes he found his place between your legs, your hand gripping tightly at his curls as you moaned into your pillow.

The following day wasn’t much different, starting with a tight filming schedule that was coming to a close end. An exchanging of glances across the room and yearning touches with underlying motives behind them. Ending with you lurking into his room at the dark hours of the night, craving-filled touched and muffled moans.

The wrap up of the film was welcomed with a bittersweet feeling settling itself in the pit of your stomach. Knowing as much as you were glad everything had gone as smoothly as possible during this week, it was time to leave it all behind.

You were nervous about how it would be with Harry after you got home. Was this the start of something that could potentially become a warm and beautiful feeling? Or was it just a lust-filled affair that would end as quickly as it had started? It made you anxious to think about it, not wanting to let go of it just yet.

Nia walked into the living room with two champagne bottles that had been brought up for this exact moment. The atmosphere was filled with chatter as everyone celebrated the end of the hard work.

You were dressed in the fanciest clothes you had brought on your rushed-packed bag, which consisted itself in a black blouse and a loose pair of pants you stole from Nia’s wardrobe a couple weeks prior. But you once again could not compete with Evan’s sense of style, as he seemed right out of a cover with a hot pink turtleneck under a sparkly black dress that hung all the way to his feet.

But you still couldn’t keep your eyes off of him.

You watched as he laughed along at something that had been said, his eyes meeting yours for a moment before fixing on Nia as she offered to serve him the champagne she had just opened.

He looked so good.

Like you, he didn’t opt for a very glam look, wearing a simple graphic white tee with a rainbow printed on it, and a simple pair of checked trousers. But as plain as someone could argue it was, he still managed to look incredibly inviting, which made it harder for you not to latch yourself onto him.

You were coming into your sixth or seventh glass when it all died down. Your head was fuzzy, and you felt giggly as you cheered along with everyone about the successful week you had. Nia had already gone back to her room. She didn’t drink as much considering she would have to drive early in the morning, wanting to leave most of the celebration for the premiere day.

The glances stolen between you and Harry were getting more frequent, the longing in each other's eyes visible with the effect of the alcohol.

He had you pressed up against your bedroom door as he sucked in your bottom lip harshly. His hands gripped at your waist tightly, putting his weight against you.

You wrapped your hand around his neck as the other pulled at his shirt desperately with the need of having him close. You felt overwhelmed by him in the nicest way. Having his hips pressing against your own, making you open your tights slightly as you felt his arousal straining on his trousers.

You whimpered into his mouth at the feeling, suddenly needing him as close as possible. You could tell his desperation matched your own by the way his hand pressed on the side of your body and his mouth moved against you. His groans getting lost in your throat every time you tangled your fingers on his roots, pulling at it.

“You’re gonna kill me like this, baby,” he breathed out, his lips moving against your wanting ones, “so fuckin’beautiful.”

You tried to keep your shaky hands steady as they travelled down his chest, scratching as his tummy lightly under his shirt before you began pulling it up. He detached from you to quickly reach over his shoulders and pull it off completely. He didn’t waste any time bringing his hand to unbutton your blouse, peppering kisses along your lips as he moved it down your shoulders, only to be met with your bare breasts underneath.

“Fuck me,” he groaned staring down at you, attaching your lips once again as he pulled you from the door as he fiddled with the zipper of your pants. You stumbled on each other's arms across the floor until you were met with the plush feeling of the bedcovers on the back of your thighs.

You stepped out of your pants as they got loose around your waist and fell damply to the floor, allowing Harry to push you gently into the mattress. He quickly got rid of his own trousers, wasting no time before towering above you, connecting your mouths once again.

It was like no matter how close you were, it still wasn’t good enough to satisfy the craving you had. You still wanted more. Needed more.

He was fully licking into you, his hands gripping your tights as he rolled his hips to meet yours. You moaned in unison at the feeling of your arousals meeting deliciously as he repeated the movement once more before parting your mouths so he could spread kisses along your neck.

“Harry,” you breathed out his name, dragging your nails along his back as you moved your hips up eagerly.

He moved his head from your neck o hover above yours, licking his lips teasingly as he looked down at you with dark eyes. He moved one of his hands to caress your cheek lovingly, as the other found your breast, his thumb grazing over your nipple. “Can I have a taste, baby?” he leaned his forehead against your, not breaking eye contact, “just a fo’a bit, then you can have me.”

You nodded frantically, brushing your nose against his. He gave you one last peck on the lips before moving down again to lick down at your skin. He pressed open-mouthed kisses at your chest, sucking harshly between your breasts. His tongue moved along your belly, craving his finger into it playfully like you had done to him, making you squeal above him.

He finally settled down between your thighs, his hand gripping at them to keep it apart before moving teasingly slow to the hem of your underwear. Your breath got caught in your throat as you moved up to lean on your elbows, gazing at him, hyper-aware of his every move.

He looked up, grinning like a devil, before moving his face down to nose gently at your mound. Pulling away, he pressed his hands on your sides, sliding your underwear off your legs as you helped him, raising your hips slightly.

You whimpered as you felt him kiss along your inner thigh, meeting your middle as licked you once. Your hips raised impatiently, making him smirk at you again before completely diving in.

You got lost in the pleasure as he licked his tongue into you, letting yourself fall back in the cushions behind your head. Your hand moved to grip at his hair tightly as he sucked in your clit, making you yelp and call out his name. His mouth was warm as his saliva mixed with your own wetness every time he licked into you.

Feeling your arousal pooling on your folds, you desperately needed to feel him as close as possible. Wanting every inch of him against you.

You pushed him from you, grabbing at his shoulder so he could move up to face you again. He didn’t protest, spattering quick kisses along the way before pressing his mouth against yours. The taste of champagne still lingering on your tongue mixed with your own taste on his as he licked into your mouth.

“y’taste so good, baby,” he groaned, parting from you as he moved to remove his briefs. The limited amount of light illuminated his face beautifully, making you able to notice the glistening of your juices down his chin. You felt your core twitch at the scene above you, desperate to have him fill you up.

“Please,” you urged him, grabbing at his hips to pull him down.

“Can I have you, darlin’?” His voice was raspy, as he looks down at you with hooded eyes, “‘d you let me?”

Your arousal blurred your mind, your grip on his waist tightened as you raised your hips impatiently, nodding along to his question.

“Have to hear you say it, love,” he spoke, leaning down to place kisses along your neck, “just say it, and you’ll have me.”

“You can have me, please, I-” you moaned desperately, babbling words without thinking, “I need you, please.”

He raised his head from your shoulders, giving you a quick peck before reaching down to guide his length between your folds. Your belly tensed as he rubbed his head against your clit, holding back your breath as he finally slid in you.

“Fuck, you’re wet,” he choked, pushing his hips all the way, allowing you to feel every inch of him fill you up. You breathed out a moan, reaching your hand on his back. “‘s this all fo’ me?”

You whined out a ‘yes’, rolling your hips as a way of urging him to move.

His movements began slow, his cock rubbing heavenly against your walls, making you clench around him. You both moaned and whimpered as your lips brushed.

“Can feel me deep?” He asked, resting his forehead against yours as he pushed his dick all the way in. You nodded, yearning for him to start moving again. “Can feel me in y’belly?”

“H, please,” you begged, gripping your nails on his shoulder blades.”Want you.”

“y’have me,” he kissed you hard before moving again, rolling his hips as he picked up the pace.

The air around you was hot as you threw your head back with the delicious feeling of him hitting the spot inside of you. He was addicting. The salty taste of his skin. The touch of his hands gripping on your sides. The smell of his cologne faintly mixed with sweat. The sound of his skin meeting yours. It made you earn for him in every possible way.

You felt your wetness dripping out of you as he pulled your leg up to your chest, allowing him to effectively hit deeper spots. The new position made a cramp start to creep up on your thight, but you ignored it to focus on the way his hips met yours.

Time seemed to pass like a blur as you pleasured each other, but soon enough you felt your orgasm building up. His thrusts became more frequent and smooth as he felt you clench more around him.

“that’s it, baby - fuck,” he grunted, moving his hand down to flicker your clit, causing to arch your back, moaning loudly. “Wanna feel you come for me.”

His cross necklace dangled over you as he watched you closely. You kept your gaze locked on his as you felt the feeling deep in your tummy take over your entire body. A moan got stuck in your throat as you opened your mouth to an ‘O’ shape, digging your nails further on his shoulders as you reached your high.

Getting home, you soon realized that throughout the week you had been so lost in your feelings with Harry that you didn’t even think of asking him for his phone number.

The month that followed passed by surprisingly quickly. During the first week you were swiftly thrown back again into your old reality of course essays and textbooks. You hadn’t heard a word from Harry, and the most frustrating part is that he seemed to have settled his place inside your thoughts. You tried asking about him to Nia once or twice again, but every time she seemed to come up with vague answers and change the subject, so you figured she had other things to worry about.

It was a disappointing end, to say the least. Even knowing from the start that being let down was the most possible outcome, it didn’t hurt any less. You often wondered if it had been something you’d done that made him pull away, or if he just wasn’t in it from the start.

By the second week you had gotten a job at a tiny local cafe you used to go after class to study and eat cinnamon rolls. That’s when time starting to rush by, as you found yourself busy through most of your day. Nia was working more than you’ve ever seen her. You two barely talked as she spent most of her time with Evan or inside her room editing. And as the week at the camp house got further away, it started to almost seem like you had imagined all of it.

Having a lot of distractions helped, but you never seemed to push the thought of a certain curly-haired boy completely away. Sometimes during a tedious lesson you would daydream about the feeling of his lips against yours. Or right before you fell asleep you would think about the taste of his skin, how strong his hand were gripping on your thighs. Maybe even at work. When there wasn’t a lot of movement, you could almost hear the sound of his voice.

It was aggravating, the effect he left on you. It got to a point where you got angry; sometimes at him but sometimes at yourself. He was the one who had gone after you, and yet he was the one who disappeared. But again, he didn’t really owe you anything, and that’s what’s frustrating. You were the one who allowed him; you knew from the start that you would get hurt but you still went for it, anyway.

As you got closer to the premiere night that was planned, you started to get anxious. You would catch yourself daydreaming more often, not being as focused as you were. You even started picking your nails again, which is a habit you thought you’d kick it a long time ago. But truth to be told, you were nervous.

The thought about seeing him again made your heart race. You wished that you could somehow find a way not to go. Maybe ask Nia if the two of you could have a private viewing. You had even thought about bribing her with making your mom’s brownie recipe. But you already knew the answer before you even suggested it. This was an important night for her, and you would be there to support it.

You were overthinking this. Was it going to be awkward when you met him? How would you even greet him? Would he kiss you? Would he ignore you? Should you ignore him? All the scenarios in your head made you want to throw up and run away.

When the two of you finally arrived, you were greeted by a cheerful Evan, who jokingly teased you for being late. As you got into his house, you found a bigger group than you expected. It seemed like you and Nia were the last ones to arrive, as there was around ten other people in there. Some of them you recognized from being Nia’s friends, others you had never seen, but none was the one you earned to see the most.

Evan guided you across the living room area, “I’ll show you the kitchen so you two can get some drinks,” He held up his glass as he spoke. Gesturing to the entrance of the room, “We’ll start everything in around ten minutes, so get ready.”

As you entered the kitchen behind Nia, you could feel her stiffen her posture a bit, before looking back at you. You frowned lightly at her, confused by her behaviour, gazing inside the room and finding immediately a pair of green eyes already watching you. It made you think back to the first time you were in this exact position, except in your own kitchen. This time, however, he was the one to approach you.

He looked really good, which did nothing to help the butterflies flying relentlessly in your stomach. He was in all black, a buttoned up shirt with a few buttons open, exposing a bit of the skin on his chest where a silver necklace laid upon. You swallowed dryly at the sight of his hand running swiftly through his hair, with a ring hugging each one of his fingers.

As he got close, he greeted Nia first, giving her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek, before turning his attention back to you. He shot you a shy smile, before embracing you into a hug. You didn’t really know if it was your mind playing tricks but you felt him a bit hesitant as he greeted you and placed a kiss on your cheek. Pulling away, he cleared his throat, running his hand again through his hair, he almost seemed… nervous?

“‘S nice seeing you again,” he mumbled, “this uhm… ‘s my girlfriend, Jess.”

You could felt your heart drop with his words as you finally noticed a smiley girl coming to his side.

She wasn’t much taller than you, her red hair pulled back in a perfect ponytail. She matched him with a small black dress that annoyingly hugged her body in all the right ways. You could barely register her greeting you, as you tried your best to keep a straight face to hide the shock that took over your body. You felt a heaviness at the pit of your stomach, a feeling so distressful that made you want to scream as an attempt to make it go away.

You didn’t pay a lot of attention as Nia made a conversation with the girl, knowing that’s what she did best. You kept your gaze directed to Harry, your eyes asking a million questions - you didn’t even think you wanted to know the answers to. But he kept his eyes locked on the floor, eventually looking up at the girl in his arms as she seemed to mention him. But never meeting your own. Her hand was caressing his chest lovingly while his found their way on her waist, keeping her close.

“I think I’ll get something to drink,” you announced, realizing you might’ve interrupted the conversation as they stopped talking. You turned to Nia, “do you want something?”

She looked back at you with sorry eyes, “I should go with you,” she quickly turned back to the girl, “It was lovely meeting you, Jess.”

“Oh! Sure,” she smiled brightly at you two, her hand moving to rest on Harry’s chest, “we should go get our seats as well, right, babe?”

You left the scene as quickly as you could, not wanting to hear any more of it. Looking at all the drink options on top of the counter, you tried to think which one could get you drunk enough to stop feeling hurt over someone you spent just a week with, but still sober enough so that you could pretend everything was fine. Before you realized, Nia was standing next to you, getting two plastic pink cups before she stared at you with guilty-filled eyes.

“I should’ve just told you about it,” she sighed, “I didn’t want to make you sad, but looking back it was probably best if you already knew.”

You turned your head to look at her, “so you knew it all along?” You swallowed the lump in your throat as you felt it close once again.

“Evan told me like a few days after we got back!” She rushed, “I don’t know if they were together while we were filming.”

You took a deep breath, knowing Nia was probably blaming herself for putting you into this situation. But you knew it wasn’t her fault, she would never purposely put you in this position if she knew about it before.

“You know what, it’s fine,” you tried your best to cover up the hurt and gave her a weak smile, “it’s not your fault Ni. It’s okay. I’m fine.”

She pulled you into a tight hug, “I’m sorry, bubba,” she said, “let’s get you something to drink so you can enjoy this party like the star you are!”

The two of you decided on the vodka mixed with watermelon juice, something you had never even thought of trying before but seemed to be ideal to handle the situation you found yourself in. You walked back to the living area, where people were already beginning to settle on the chairs.

Following Nia, you prompted yourself on a seat at the edge closest to the door, opposite to where Harry sat with the girl. His girl. You thought bitterly, taking a big sip from your cup and cringing at the strong taste.

There was a speech you didn’t pay much attention to before they started the film, only giving a slight smile when you realized the mention of your name.

Before you knew it, the lights were out and your face took over the screen.

It was harder than you thought it would be. Looking up at the scenes you had with Harry, knowing everything that happened behind the cameras. Knowing every touch and every kiss felt more than just playing a character. You knew the actual feeling of having him to yourself. But now staring at it right in front of you, it just left a sour taste in your mouth.

You finished your drink barely ten minutes into the film, the feeling of your chest aching starting to become overwhelming as you watched your shared kiss on the big screen. You could feel your throat close once more, your eyes watering a bit.

“I’m gonna get some air,” you whispered to Nia sitting next to you, who gave you a sympathetic smile as you got up. You glimpsed quickly to Harry who had his eyes trained on you, the girl next to him leaning to whisper something in his ear.

You could feel the tears falling down stubbornly as you left the room. Standing in the hallway, you made the decision to turn to the front door instead of the back, not wanting to face anyone with reddish eyes.

You left the house, picking your phone with shaky hands as you managed to call a ride home, sighing in relief as your screen told you it was just about three minutes away.

You heard the door open behind you as stood on the sidewalk hugging yourself to get some warmth on the chilly night. You tried your best to swallow back your tears as you turned around, expecting to find Nia looking at you with pitiful eyes.

To your surprise, the person standing there was Harry, looking like a deer caught in the headlights as he took in your tearful eyes. He spoke your name in a soft voice, causing you to look away.

“Don’t-” you interrupted, raising your hand at him, “I don’t wanna hear it.”

He frowned at you, not wanting to upset you more. “I’m sorry,” he hesitated, taking a step forward.

Your phone buzzed in your hand, as you watched your ride pulling in front of you. You looked back at him, “I’m sorry too,” you said before moving to enter the car.

You spared him one last glance through the window as the driver pulled away.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #wildest dreams #writing #fanfic #Reader x Harry #my writing

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jinxfirebolt18902 · 3 years

Text

I licked it so it’s mine - JJ Maybank Imagine

Words: 1.818

Warnings: none?

Pairing: JJ Maybank x female!reader

A/N: I got this idea from a tumblr pic that read the title in a neon light sign. English isn’t my mother tongue so prob syntax mistakes AND F**** ENGLISH PREPOSITIONS other than that I love y’all, hope you enjoy.

—Okay sweetie, go have a good day and make new friends! —She heard her mom telling her as she gently pushed her by her shoulders towards the group of little girls and boys near the teacher. She took a few steps lacking confidence, not sure she wanted to actually be a part of the class. Minutes later a blonde boy with a face that already screamed ‘trouble’ despite the young age furrowed his eyebrows at her new face. He got closer and observed her attentively making her a little uncomfortable. Matching his personality, she furrowed her brows as well and asked rudely “what?!”

The boy processed the uncommon attitude coming from a girl and smiled at the change, appreciating the feisty confrontation in contrast with the so common cries or runaways of the other little girls he used to annoy. From then on they became inseparable and her mother always invited him over to play. Their play dates often involved fights, stolen toys and ice cream. As time passed, they grew out of toys but not out of ice creams, and they kept going to the small store that sells popsicles and doing their routine: buy the popsicle, go to the dock in front of the store and sit with their feet hanging as they ate the ice cream.

One of the many times, they were nine years old and just as she was about to give her popsicle the first lick he beat her to it and she whined immediately.

—JJ! —he laughed real hard and took it from her hands, provoking his best friend to become even more angrier.

—Sorry —he shrugged his shoulders innocently and then looked at the frozen candy —But I licked it so it’s mine now.

She punched him on the right shoulder and before she stood up and got away, he handed her his still packaged popsicle with a smile. She sent him another glare before sitting down again and not talking to him for the next 5 minutes.

—C’moooon! You can’t ignore me foreverrrr —he dragged some syllables of his words as he spoke close to her just to annoy her more.

—You’re disgusting JJ.

He smiled winningly at his victory. —But you love me anyways.

Years went by, their friendship grew and their group too, with the addition of John B, and years later Pope’s and Kiara’s. After Kie finished her shift at The Wreck, Pope and JJ were done with the groceries deliveries for the Kooks and John B and she were done at the Cameron’s, each with their different tasks, the crew had agreed on meeting at The Chateau to relax and drink some cheap beers.

John B was stargazing with a nostalgic look on his face; Kie was strumming her ukelele; Pope was sitting on an old foldable beach chair while she and JJ were swinging on the big hammock, beers of can in their hands. She was struggling to open hers as she tried to avoid breaking her nails on the process. She pouted as she extended her arm holding the can to the blonde. He took it and opened it easily but before handing it back he made sure she was still looking at him and carefully dug the tip of his tongue into the little hole, earning a protest from her.

—JJ!

He smirked and enjoyed the reaction he was getting from her. —What?!

—It was my beer!!

He let out a deep laugh as his head fell backwards. —You know the rules, I licked it, so…

Their friends laughed as they nodded their heads at JJ’s passion for teasing her.

Months later, summer days began and holidays welcomed free time and Tourons in Outer Banks. New faces, new adventures, new hook ups. The gang had organized one of the very famous keggers at the Boneyard. Music resonated from someone’s speaker, 5 bonfires had small groups of teenagers of all ages sitting around talking and drinking while larger groups were dancing around the beach. She and Kie were at different fires chatting with Tourons while Pope and John B made sure everyone got their refill. JJ being JJ was sweet talking a brunette into his bed at The Chateau. So far, nothing was out of the ordinary. They were all having a good time. Things got awkward the next day, when the crew woke up and saw JJ’s brunette still there, showing no intentions of leaving. She and Kie had passed out on the pull out couch while Pope slept on the other couch but they all looked a bit shocked, and uncomfortable, at the intruder walking around the kitchen as if she belonged there with them. JJ came out of his room minutes later and got his friends curious stares for breakfast. He shrugged his shoulders and twitched the corners of his lips indicating an “I-have-no-clue-why-she’s-still-here” expression when the girl couldn’t see.

In the afternoon, the intruder announced she’d go back to her family and take a shower but also planned to meet at The Wreck for dinner. Once she left the females of the group scoffed at her.

—Dude, she stuck with us like she’s part of the Pogues, what the fuck?! —Kie complained at no one in particular, but sent JJ a quick glare.

—You gotta fix this. —She pointed her index finger into her best friend’s chest. —There is no way I’m having dinner with her.

After everyone had gone back to their place and taken a shower, shared some family time and run some errands, the Pogues agreed to get together after dinner and go for some ice cream.

—Which flavour did you ask for Kie? —she asked as she licked her cookies and cream ice cream before it dripped on her clothes and hands. Kie gave her a funny look and answered.

—Watermelon, it’s really good actually. Sweet and refreshing.

The boys came walking a few steps behind them as they pushed each other like little kids. The girls rolled their eyes but stopped on their tracks as they heard a voice calling for them. Well more specifically, for the blonde surfer and their leader.

—JJ! John B! —the same brunette they were trying to avoid rushed down to the docks they were standing on.

—Hey there… —John B answered, not wanting to be rude.

Once again, the intruder stuck to the group of friends and hung out for a few hours, constantly trying to flirt with JJ. The brunette playfully hit him whenever he teased her, gently grabbed his biceps when they were sitting down on the wooden dock and tried to get him alone by walking slower than the group, her arms circling around his waist. JJ wasn’t used to his hook ups sticking to him like this, he usually made it clear he was up for a one night stand only but this one didn’t want to give him up just yet.

The brunette had also caught interest in the intense relationship between him and his best friend. The intruder wanted to have JJ’s complete attention but his friend was kind of getting in the way of that. As a girl, she sensed his friend was purposely cock blocking him, which started a silent and very subtle war between them.

The brunette laughed at JJ’s joke and got impossibly closer to him, resting her light weight on his chest. She rolled her eyes and made a signal to Kie to make her look at the intruder and then faked a vomit earning a laugh from Kie. John B and Pope furrowed their eyebrows at Kiara’s laugh, confused at why she was laughing. Kie was the only one who could see her little act.

Moments later they decided to go around the docks and throw some rocks into the water. John B felt a bit more comfortable now and teased the brunette by trying to splash her with the rocks he threw. That was the first time through the night that she had gotten away from JJ and she wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to hit back.

She got closer to her best friend and challenged him with just a look. He rolled his eyes as he smirked, knowing he was in trouble.

—Get her off our backs dude. I wanna spend time with my friends, not her! —she whispered urgently looking up at his eyes as he was taller than her.

—What do you want me to do? Tell her ‘hey me and my friends want to be alone, do you mind?’—he mocked trying to make his point clear but she was having none of it. —Yep, that sounds perfect —she smiled and taped his chest as if the whole matter was solved. He raised an eyebrow and focused his eyes on hers. A second later he had a dirty smirk on his features, then it was her turn to quirk an eyebrow. —What?

—Aren’t you jealous, are you? —his smile grew wider as her scowl deepened. He was quick to snake his arms around her middle and pull her close. —Don’t touch me. Let me go, you’re an asshole. —He pouted and cooed her. —Aww c’mon baby don’t be mad I’m not giving you attention, you know I’m yours. —she just rolled her eyes and sighed deeply as Kie laughed near them, enjoying the whole show.

When she heard too much silence, or the lack of an annoying giggle, in the back, she caught a glance from the corner of her eye and saw John B and the brunette looking at them while Pope told something about dead bodies as he drew patterns in the sand with a stick he had found.

—Careful sis, remember if you play with fire, you get burnt. —John B spoke to her in a mocking tone. The rest, except for the Touron, began laughing.

She takes her chance as JJ’s face is not that far from hers and a wicked smile painted itself on her face before implementing her idea. In less than a second she had stuck her tongue out and slid it from under his jaw up to his bottom lip making the boy freeze and set his blue orbits on her. Her eyes were already on his, shining with playfulness. She was having so much fun having her way. The laughs around her turned into gasps.

She then turned to the other girl and spoke mockingly —I licked it, so it’s mine. —the girl’s jaw fell and she winked at the blonde before walking to Kie and throwing her arm over her curly haired friend, who was wearing an incredulous expression.

—Oh my God, I can’t believe you just did that! —both began to laugh as they walked back to the van and hopefully they would all drive back to The Chateau and spend a real night of friends with no intruders.

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank #jj obx #outer banks jj

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sunqyu · 4 years

Text

~ Treasure realizing they love you and the first time they say it pt 1.

Request 1: “ hmm im all in cute feelings, so FIRST I LOVE YOUS with treasure reaction thingy, would be super sweet 🙊💗🌼🌼 “ - anon

Request 2: “ i love your writing! treasure realizing theyre in love with their s/o🥺 “ - anon

These requests are both so adorable and fitting so I decided to combine them. Hope you enjoooy. Also, buckle up ‘cause ITS A LONG ONE AGAIN. Got carried away as usual so it’ll be in two parts. K BYE <3 - Nova

Hyunsuk

realizing it

it doesn’t take much to make Hyunsuk like you

but to actually fall in love with you

that’s a different story

he’s alone at the studio, trying to get his verse right

every time he fixes something he didn’t like, he notices something else

he’s sat at his desk, elbows next to the keyboard

head hanging down with his fingers tangled in his hair

a sharp inhale

a shaky exhale

then his phone lights up, a message from you, asking if he’s home yet and how his day went

2.30am, he reads

he starts typing, frantically, on and on as the chaos in his head makes it’s way onto his phonescreen

only for him to stop and delete it all because he knows what he really wants to send you

but it’s too late and he doesn’t want to be a burden, you need your sleep too

when he looks up and sees his own reflection in the, now dimly lit, screen of his computer

another sharp inhale

‘Not so great to be honest, can I come to your place?’ sent.

on the way to your house he’s still thinking about turning back

but all those thoughts are long gone the moment you open the door

your eyes beaming at him, messy bun wiggling side to side and you’re wrapped up in a blanket

his heart melts as he feels the tightness in his temples and neck from the stress subside

‘Hi- I missed you.’

you probably didn’t notice but he almost said something else

he snickers to himself, that would’ve been a bit early

saying it

definitely the type to say it without realizing what he’s saying

you two are getting groceries

which, even though it’s not a special thing, is always so much fun

this time you ended up playing hide and seek

it wasn’t really discussed, you just lost Hyunsuk at one point and decided to turn it into a game instead of calling him

which means it’s your turn now

it had been over 20 minutes and he was getting worried

very impressed with your skills

but worried

in the end he decided to call you

to his surprise he hears your ringtone behind him

he turns around

the ringtone is still behind him

he turns around

what the-

he turns around but really fast this time

his eyes meet yours a second before you start dying from laughter

‘How long where you doing that for-?’ he laughed in self-pity and disbelieve

when he finds out you never left he sighs

‘Ugh- I love you.’ he mutters inbetween chuckling

for a second he freezes, a thousand things running through his mind

but y’know what? fuck it.

‘Yea- it’s true. I love you.’

Jihoon

realizing it

also seems like someone who does not fall in love quickly

mostly because he’s not looking for it, he doesn’t feel the need to be in love to be happy

but once he does

oh boy

so when you came in his life he wasn’t thinking about a potential relationship

or wondering if you two would be compatible

he simply enjoyed your presence and you two got closer as friends

because of this the moment he realizes he has feelings for you will be overwhelming for him

wasn’t ready

you weren’t even doing anything different than usual

just eating in the yg cafetaria, both rambling about things

subjects that made people walking by look up because they didn’t get the full story

out of nowhere he fell hard

the mechanism that’s supposed to be his brain malfunctioning

croissant in mid-air

it all just made sense

the reason why he could never be sad around you

the reason that made your eyes twinkle more than anyone elses

the reason you saying his name sounds different than when anyone else says it

the reason he’s now sitting with his mouth wide open staring at you without really looking at you

‘Y-yea, I was listening. Ofcourse I was.’

saying it

probably says it on a special occasion

not planned or anything

it just seemed fitting in that moment

he realized before you two were even dating so it’s not like there’s any doubt left

still, expressing it feels like a very big step

it was quite a warm autumn evening

you were sitting on the floor at the salon table

filled with food from different places

‘I’m so proud of us.’ he beamed

you had just finished a very important essay which is going to be a great advantage when looking for an internship

he had just ended filming their third music video

‘I wish I could show you, you’re gonna love it.’ he mumbled before grabbing another bite

it looked like a feast but takeout-style

you continue eating, enjoying each others company

all the windows were open because of the nice weather

a soft breeze would ruffle the curtains

the subtle sound mixing well with the music

Jihoon had looked for just the right playlist for almost half an hour

and it couldn’t have been more perfect

the warm light of the candles was accompanied by a desklight

you got it out of your room because the ceiling light wasn’t cozy but the candles weren’t enough to see each other’s face (or the food)

the topic slowly drifts to more nostalgic memories

dates to the beach, your weekend in Japan, meeting his friends

‘You know what’s funny? out of all of those memories the one that is most special to me was a really simple one.’ something in his expression changed and you sat calmly, waiting for him to continue

‘It was a few days before I asked you out on our first date. We were at yg, eating something.’ he grabbed another bite of food, chuckling at your impatient response

‘I don’t know what it was but out of nowhere I realized I was in love with you.’ the words came out while he looked at his plate, looking up only a second before he continued

‘I still do. I love you-, even more each day.’

Yoshi

realizing it

there’s not really a specific moment where it hit him

his love for you grew gradually

which is exactly how he liked it

from the moment he met you he was never nervous around you

he never felt like he wasn’t good enough or like he had to try harder

everything made sense from day one

there would be moments where is heart could burst from it

like the time you tried to fix his broken jeans with a youtube tutorial

or when you first fell asleep on his chest

the worst was when he couldn’t see you for a few days

as if the love in him grew and grew but he couldn’t give it to you

he just felt like he was going to explode sometimes

the other boys would notice very easily

‘I know it’s only a few days, you guys are right.’

his mind didn’t listen to his own words

‘I’m fine- I promise.’

but if it’s a few more hours he might not be

he would go to bed quite early these days

after he noticed that trying to distract himself wasn’t working

he’d scroll through photo’s you took together

and photo’s he took of you

he’d sent you another text, hoping your phone was off so he wouldn’t wake you up

a strange mix of happiness and sadness

luckily once he realizes his sadness is temporary and it only shows how special you are to him he’ll be able to focus on the happiness

thinking about all the memories you’ve made and will make in the future as he slowly drifts to sleep

saying it

finally

finally he was going to see you again

it was only like three days but boy was he DEPRIVED

he was the first done packing

the first in the car

the first to run into the dorm and put his bag away

aaaand the first to run out the door again

you two had been texting all day about movies to watch and all the stories he wanted to tell

his knee bumped up and down in the bus

he couldn’t remember the last time he was this hyped

only three more stops

he gazed out the window chuckling at himself

who would’ve thought someone could make him feel like this?

his hand clutched on to the souvenir he got you

two more stops

an old couple got in

yoshi always had a weakness for happy old couple

but now especially

he smiled politely at them

admiring how in love they looked

that would be you in the future, he thought to himself

one more stop

his smile was still on his face

recognizing restaurants you two went to

clothing stores where you complimented his style

and then

the bus stop

it’s the one where you two met

he still can’t believe he managed to strike up a conversation with you that day

but it must’ve been meant to be

he looked around frantically as soon as his foot hit the sidewalk

the sound of your shoes on the floor came closer

he turned to face the sound and before he could even see your face he was holding you in his arms again

tightly as if to tell the world you were his

a deep sigh left his mouth before he mumbled into your hair

‘I love you- I missed you so much. I’m so happy to see you.’

Junkyu

realizing it

‘stop being weird-’ ‘says who?’

you and Junkyu were laying on his bed

both with your limbs spread out, staring at the ceiling

you weren’t sure how long you’d been there

he hummed along to the song you just put on

before being interrupted by the sound of his own stomach

‘Oh wow- sounds like it’s time for lunch.’

you nodded in agreement as you grabbed your phone

he started thinking about what to get, watching you tap away on your phone

your hair was laying in a circle around your head

a shadow from the ceilinglight behind your phone over your eyes

he noticed how you pupils dilated as they adjusted to the light everytime your moved your phone a bit

your eyes are cool af, woah

he turned to his side, still looking at your features while you scrolled on your phone

the song changed and this time it was you humming along

your voice is so nice, he thought to himself

his dreamy moment was interrupted by you looking at him

oh right- food

‘Uh- I want uh-..’

to his surprise you tell him you already ordered

‘What- what about me?’

you listed the things you ordered for him, saying how you definitely knew what he wanted by now

he was shocked

if you aren’t the SWEETEST MOST THOUGHTFUL HUMAN BEING

then he wouldn’t know who is

his dreamy moment continued, even though you were staring right back this time, confused

he never felt like this before

like he wants to fast-forward and sit in a rocking chair with you, grumbling about youth

wait

fuck

this is love isn’t it?

saying it

he promised

he promised he wasn’t going to fall asleep during the movie

but look at him now

soft deep breathing, lips slightly parted as he was laying against you

even though you didn’t want to wake him up you had already seen this movie with friends and the remote was all the way on the table

you reached forward in slow motion

slowly

sloooooowly

Junkyu moved, rubbing his cheek against your shoulder before mumbling under his breath and laying still again

that was close

the journey continues

slooooooooooowly

you were only 10cm away from reaching the remote

‘N-no hh.. stay h- ple ase.’

a dilemma

lean forward a bit more or sit back and just let the man sleep?

bit more

sloooooooooooooooowly

your fingertips grazed the remote and it wobble side to side

‘Babe?-’ that definitely sounded more awake then earlier

but when you look at him you see he’s definitely not fully awake yet

‘Come back to beeed-’ he whined

bed? boy, we’re on the couch

you didn’t mention it and instead quickly grabbed the remote before you sat back down a little faster

‘Th-nk yo-’ he held you tighter

‘Love you-’

wait what?

Mashiho

realizing it

seems like a hopeless romantic to me

so might realize quite fast

this man has been fantasizing and imagining his future love life for so long

not to the point where he’s yanking flowers apart to find out if you love him or not

but he sees the beauty in so many things

enjoys the warmth of the sun on his skin

likes to watch people going about their day and thinking what their life is like

leaves sweet notes on receipts for hardworking employees to find when they come clean his table

little things but a lot of things

he has an eye for beauty and knows exactly how to use it for his own happiness

so he quickly noticed how happy you made him

it was again, the little things

but so so many

how your pinky finger was always a little higher than the rest when your hands were relaxed

how the cute baby hairs on the back of your neck would always leave your ponytail within minutes of putting your hair up

how your foot would bounce up and down when you sat with your legs crossed, even if there was no music

how every time you called him cute he had to keep himself from calling you cute because he knew you’d hide your face in your hands right after

the way you sat against the mirror when you came to watch him practice

sleeves of his sweater to long for your arms as you clapped after each song

loving you wasn’t something that happens at one point

it’s built within him since the moment you met

it just grows and grows as you take care of it with your cuteness and love

saying it

so much snow

everywhere

the snowflakes were most visible under the light of the streetlanterns

appearing and disappearing as they went back into the dark nightsky

the crisp sound from under your shoes was relaxing

you and Mashiho had a snowballfight after finishing about 20 snowangels each

it had gotten dark before you knew it so now you were walking home

his arm around your shoulder, rubbing softly to keep you warm

you felt the cold water through your gloves but sharing bodyheat was all you needed

both of you had soft smiles on your faces, walking in content silence

and you were also just EXHAUSTED so the quiet evening was a nice change

in some of the houses you walked by you could already see christmaslights and trees

he noticed you looking

‘Lets get our own decorations soon.’

you nodded happily, leaning against him a little more

this was going to be your first christmas together

you never expected to celebrate it with someone this year

the idea of setting up a tree together and the coziness it would bring made him feel warm inside

you discussed fun things you could do for christmas

ways to surprise the boys or what you wanted to eat

he listened to you talk about memories and future plans

when he noticed how clearly he was already involved in those future plans he couldn’t help himself

‘Hey-’ he gave your shoulder a squeeze to make you look at him

‘I love you, so so much-‘

Jaehyuk

realising it

it was the first time you were going to meet the rest of Jaehyuk’s group

a little nervous but mostly excited you walked to the front door

he told you to text him when you got there so he could see you before the rest did

a few second after you saw he read your message the door opens

you get a kiss on the lips, a tight hug and a kiss on your forehead all after each other

he wanted to show you love but also wanted to mentally prepare you for what was about to him

don’t get him wrong, he loves the other members with all his heart but he could imagine them being a little.... overwhelming.

before he could even ask you if you were nervous the yells from the living room began

curious heads peeking out from behind his back, 11 hands reaching out to you as they all wanted to introduce themselves first

you could make out some teasing to Jae followed by someone’s voice trying to keep the peace

he looked at you with slight worry in his face, only to be greeted by a cheerful smile

before he knew it you were bashing out jokes left and right

even standing up for him a few times in the funniest ways

he couldn’t be happier

so many people he loved in one room

one in particular though

he took a moment to sit back against the couch and look around in awe

so happy

after a few hours and some good food it was time for you to go home

he watched you end your conversation with Asahi

who, to his surprise, seemed like he didn’t want the conversation to end

you waved goodbye to everyone and got loads of no’s and why’s in return

‘It’s late guys, she still has to go home.’

saying it

you still heard the whining when you and Jae reached the front door

you talked a few more minutes about how much you enjoyed yourself and the funny and awkward moments you two noticed

‘Apparently you don’t only make me happy but my friends too.’

you beamed at the compliment

even though you enjoyed the night as well, the validation that they did too meant a lot to you

‘So I’ve been approved?’ ‘Clearly.’

he insisted on walking you home

you discussed the evening even more

he explained more about their personalities and memories he has with them which now made so much sense to you

your fingers were intertwined, arms swinging back and forth playfully

for some reason he felt a lump in his throat

but he couldn’t quite figure out why

it even distracted him from your conversation a few times

which is very unlike him so you noticed quickly

when you stopped walking to ask him what was wrong

looking him in the eye to show you you were not taking nothing for an answer

the determined look in your eyes made him realize what it was

what he had been holding back

but he didn’t say it

not yet

after a few minutes you reached your frontdoor

‘Thank you for the great evening, I’m sure they’ll want you back as soon as possible.’

he leaned in for a goodnight’s kiss, holding you close a little tighter than usual

for a second he pulled back

‘I love you-’

before connecting your lips again

#this took me forever but I'm pretty happy with it #hope you all enjoy!#treasure #treasure reaction #treasure scenario #yg #ygtb #hyunsuk #jihoon #yoshi #junkyu #mashiho #jaehyuk #kpop

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domesticmail · 3 years

Text

happy new year || vince dunn

AUTHOR’S NOTE: happy new year to everyone!!! i hope you’re all ringing in this year with love & kindness! this is a fic for @hockeynetwork ‘s fic exchange, particularly for @pucksnsticksnhockeyboys !!

i think you’re officially the last fic recipient of 2020, so congratulations!! i hope you like the fic <33

lots of thanks to @makarsy for beta-ing this for me!! <3

WORD COUNT: 5.7k

WARNINGS: dysfunctional family, divorce, alcohol !

SUMMARY: going back to your hometown to visit your family for the holidays is supposed to be fun. accidentally running into your childhood best friend is supposed to be nostalgic. love is supposed to have a happy ending. nothing disappoints more than high expectations.

She’d hung the mistletoe right under the hallway arch. The gray-green leaves, attached to stems that seemed to sink with the gravity, dangled from the red ribbon holding them together, tied to a hook hanging from the highest point of the arch. Small berries, white in color, caught your eye as you stood, frozen, in the living room.

The familiar feeling of dread and terror floods your veins. Your chest begins to freeze over as your heart picks up pace. It’s like someone lit a bonfire in the middle of a glacier, and it’s melting you. If you were a little less aware, you’d think you were sinking to your knees, weakness invading and settling deep in the bones of your legs like the mere memory of him saps you of all your willpower.

There’s a strange floating feeling in the gravity you feel. It’s like you’re being pulled up and down simultaneously, and for a moment you feel so confused, and it scares you, this feeling of anxiety and fear.

A familiar hand settles on your shoulder, pulling you out of the spiral. “I thought maybe it’d be a...cute little touch.” From the way the deep voice is straining to hit a higher octave, you’re guessing it’s your brother, mimicking your mom.

You turn, and you’re right. He’s rolling his eyes, saying some smartass comment or another. Something about how she has no regard for anyone but herself. You nod noncommittally as he downs a glass of champagne. You raise an eyebrow. “Don’t you think you should pace yourself? It’s just more fuel for Aunt Cindy.”

“Y/N, I’ve never cared about what she thinks, and I sure as hell am not gonna start now.”

You shrug as he looks you up and down. Your shitty christmas sweater is the only one you own, but it’s the perfect mixture of funny and definitely going to offend Mom. It’s a knitted, ugly green, and the front has Jesus with a party blower in his mouth. He’s wearing a birthday hat, one of the pointy cone ones, and is holding a white, circular balloon that has “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” written on it in red. He’s wearing a shirt that says “BIRTHDAY BOY”.

She nearly had a heart attack when she saw you wearing it last week. The mistletoe, then, is payback, presumably.

“Danny?”

He turns back to you, eyebrows raised.

“Are you getting more champagne?” You ask. He nods. “I want some too,” you sigh, joining him at the kitchen island. He smiles conspiratorially.

While he pours you a glass, you inquire about his life. You don’t see each other often, with you up in New York and him traveling over 300 days out of the year. “It’s a miracle you’re even here,” you joke.

Danny snorts, taking a sip of his own drink. “Couldn’t miss another family event, especially not since last month.”

Last month was his 10-year anniversary of joining the Bureau, a week after he turned 33. Your mother’s pride and joy, she’d gone all out, and had been infuriated when an hour into the party he’d been called to the office. And even while she was annoyed with his duties, she still took the time to go out of her way and inform both you and your sister, Jo, that “at least he has an important job.”

You laugh. “She was pissed.”

“Yeah, she called me later that day.”

“She called you? While you were at work?”

“Do you think she has any respect for my time?”

You raised your eyebrows, eyes wide in shock. “How can she possibly be so….not self-aware?”

“I have no clue.”

As though summoned by the mention of your mother, Jo enters the room, long blonde hair a mess around her face, red and puffy. She takes the spot next to you, grabs your champagne glass, and downs it.

“Hi, Jo,” you and Danny say in unison, neither of you surprised.

“Mom’s being such a bitch,” she spits, wiping her eyes. On her left hand, you spot something shiny, and it takes a moment for you to register the huge diamond ring on her finger. Like you can read each other’s minds, you and Danny look at each other, back to the ring, and then back to each other. Danny’s mouth is wide open in an ‘O’, and Jo squints at him. “What, Danny?”

She notices you staring at her, too. “Guys. What? Can’t you see I’m obviously in distress?”

“With that ring? You should be the happiest woman on the planet, Jo,” Danny replies.

“Ugh.” Jo sniffles aggressively. “I can’t be happy when Mom is being so...judgemental! I mean, can’t she just be happy for me?”

“Wait, wait,” you interrupt, hands up in a ‘slow down’ motion. “Who gave you that ring?”

Your sister looks at you like that’s the dumbest question you’ve ever heard. Her face in this expression looks almost exactly like your mother’s, and it strikes a nerve deep down. “You don’t remember?”

“No.”

“Peter. From - “

“The guy from the coffee shop?” You’re completely surprised. Jo makes impulsive decisions, yes, but getting engaged to a guy she’s been on four dates with? That’s just plain reckless.

“Yes. He proposed last week.” She sniffles again, this time trying to seem at least a little more dignified. Chin high, she proclaims, “We’re in love.”

Danny sips his champagne, still completely caught off-guard. He has a small smile as he watches you say, “Jo, that’s fucking insane.”

Jo rolls her eyes. “You wouldn’t understand. You’re too young.”

Your brother laughs. “She’s only two years younger than you.”

“That’s two whole years of experience she doesn’t have.”

“You realize I’m not seventeen anymore, right, Jo? I’m an actual adult.”

“An adult with an actual job,” Danny points out.

“I have a job!” Your sister protests.

“What job? Oh, wait, you mean being a sugar baby, right? That’s your job?”

Jo glares at you. “That’s not fair, and you know it.”

You shrug and drink some more champagne. “I’m being honest.”

“You’re being mean.” “Oh my god, Jo. You’re the one getting married to a guy you’ve known for two months.”

“We’re in love!”

“You can’t possibly be in love!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was talking to the expert of all things romantic! Please, O Great One, give me your opinion!”

You pressed your lips together tightly. “You’re not funny.”

“Oh, wait! I forgot,” Jo continues. “The Master of Love has a boyfriend.”

Your face heats up. You’d only told your mom you had a boyfriend so she would stop badgering you with questions about your love life. You hadn’t been thinking about the consequences, you’d just wanted to stop the questioning, and that had clearly backfired. “Mom told you that?”

Your sister smiles, seemingly satisfied with this secret knowledge. Danny, who’s been listening to the conversation with wide eyes, is grinning like a maniac behind his champagne flute.

“Yes,” Jo says. “So, where is he?”

Scrambling internally, you frown. “He’s busy.”

“Probably spending Christmas with his family,” Danny cuts in. That is surprising - usually he’ll let Jo beat you down, and then show support later. And anyway, he doesn’t even know you’re lying about the boyfriend. “They’re probably ten times less dysfunctional.”

At the last word, Jo switches gears completely, snapping her head to look at Danny. “We’re not dysfunctional,” she hisses.

Your brother laughs in her face. “Yes, we are.”

As they begin to argue, you take this as your chance to escape. You leave your champagne on the island - alcohol will only make this worse, and you want to be somewhat lucid for dinner. On the bright side, the less you drink now, the more you can drink later. You make your way down the hall, stopping to look at the photos framed on the walls in a remarkably perfect design. Every Christmas card photo meticulously arranged from oldest to newest, below the childhood pictures. There are a few of Jo, with her beautiful curls and pearly-white teeth, playing lacrosse. Everyone’s high school graduation photos. Lots of photos of Danny, the eldest and golden child. His first birthday, his eighteenth birthday, first day in college, first Christmas back home, various pictures of him and your parents. Any picture including your dad is small and inconspicuously placed, so as not to draw attention to it.

Scattered between pictures of your siblings are the ones of you. They’re all smaller; the only large one is your high school cap and gown picture. And the others aren’t of your accomplishments - they’re of you at home, smiling, with a book, or building a snowman with your dad in the backyard. Tucked below a picture of Danny and one of his ex-girlfriends (Sandy, your mother’s favorite) and above Jo’s first varsity photo is your favorite. Your dad took it when you were fourteen, on an old camera, one that used film, and had developed it himself. You had gone to visit him in Oregon, the only one who’d wanted to go, and as a surprise, he’d taken you to the beach. Your hair is wet and sticking to your face, and you’re making a silly face - lips puckered, eyes crossed, hands at either side of your face like fish gills. It’s a decade old, and the memory has faded a bit in your mind, but you can still remember the way he laughed at you when he took the photo. “That’ll be a good one,” he’d proclaimed. “I’ll send it to you.”

That’s how it was every summer since then. You went off to stay with him in Oregon, and Jo stayed at home with your mother. Danny, seven years older than Jo and nine older than you, wasn’t involved, at that point - he was just joining the bureau. Nobody had batted an eye when your dad didn’t show up to the party last month. Him and Danny had never quite gotten along.So you spend June through August with him at Gold Beach. Just the picture brings to mind memories from the cottage; the summer your dad grew a beard; him bringing you to the touristy area, to a struggling record shop to let you pick out your first album. You still had it, tucked away in an old box of vinyls in the back of your closet at home. The Chain, Fleetwood Mac.

There was something surprising about your mom keeping this picture. She hated that you spent your summers with him. It wasn’t uncommon for her to blame your personality as an adult on those vacations with your dad, as though he was the reason you were a journalist, and not that he’d simply loved you for who you were, and given you the love and affection you’d needed. So the picture here, that was confusing. In fact, you’d thought for years she’d thrown it out, because she talked so often about how deeply she wishes she’d fought for full custody in the divorce. Why would she keep the picture?

There’s no way she kept it as a reminder of him. She’d never voluntarily keep something like that around.

So then, why does she have it?

“Do you have to wear that horribly offensive sweater?”

And there she is, the devil herself, shrill as ever. You turn to the end of the hall and find your mother there, in her favorite cream-colored dress. Her hair was in a bun, and you knew without even being close to her that she had wasted an incredible amount of hairspray on keeping it in place. She’s wearing the pearl earrings and necklace set Danny gave her for her birthday last year, and on her wrist was a surprise - the white watch you’d gifted her.

“Hey to you too, Mom,” you greet, not dignifying the question with an answer. The best way to deal with her was to pretend you didn’t hear her little jabs.

“Honestly, Y/N, how do you expect us to have a peaceful dinner with my family when you’re wearing such blatantly tasteless clothing?” She approaches you and seems to be picking apart your appearance piece by piece. You expected no different. “Our family. And I know Leah and Mark will think it’s funny.” The only two cousins of thirteen that you can stand, Leah is Aunt Cindy’s only daughter, and Mark is her eldest son.

“What?” Genuine confusion etches itself into her features.

You raise an eyebrow. “Our family. I’m related to them, too.”

She snorts. “No, you take too much after Ryan’s family to be a Benson.” The mention of her last name, once her maiden name, presses a button for you. When they got divorced, Danny took your mom’s last name, and when Jo asked, she took her to city hall so she could change it back to Benson.You were the only child who kept your father’s last name.

“Technically, I’m half Benson, half L/N.”

“Mmm,” she hums noncommittally. “Sure. If that’s what you believe.”

You furrow your brows. “You gave birth to me.”

Smiling tightly, she says, “Babies have been switched at hospitals before.”

Completely taken aback, your jaw drops open, and she takes this chance to survey your teeth. “I see you’ve had dental work done since last month.”

You close your mouth tightly and frown. “Just a cleaning.”

She looks you up and down and once again offers nothing but a disingenuous “Sure.”

There’s a moment of awkward silence before your mother inhales sharply and asks, “Has Jo told you yet?”

“About the engagement?”

“Yes.” She is gritting her teeth so hard you’re sure she’s going to crack a molar.

“Yeah.”

“And your opinion?”

You shrug. “I think it’s royally stupid, but it’s her decision.”

This seems to satisfy her, because she nods and, after looking you up and down once more and confirming that you are not going to change your outfit, she heads past you, her heels clicking forcibly against the hardwood.

You exhale audibly when she is gone, the tension in your chest and back releasing slowly. Conversations with her are so tense you can hardly breathe, she takes up so much air.

Raised voices echo down the hall from the kitchen. You look uncomfortably in the direction the chaos is coming from. Forcing yourself to walk towards the room, you find yourself standing quietly in the entryway to the kitchen.

Jo and your mother are going at it again. Your sister’s face is red and puffy, she’s clearly been crying the entire time. Danny is sitting down at the dining room table, pouring himself yet another glass. You sigh, and there’s only one thing that comes to mind as you watch this scene unfold, your mother talking loudly and sternly to Jo, who is yelling and sobbing.

God, you hate it here.

---

You’ve been banished (read: released) to the store, to pick up eggs. And milk. But only almond milk, the soy kind. You’re not sure that exists, but whatever. Any chance to escape your mother’s house is a chance you’ll take.

This grocery store has been standing since before you were born. Your parents went to it, their parents went to it, and even their parents went to it. O’Malley’s General is over five decades old, and even worse -

As you enter through the old wooden door, you peer around at the inside of the store. Fruit and veggies are still on your left, the over-the-counter pharmaceuticals to your right. No different from when you were five.

“Y/N!” The man sitting at one of the two checkout desks to your left offers you a wide grin.

- it’s a family business. When you were younger, it was run by Dennis O’Malley, a charmer in every sense of the word. You, Danny, and Jo used to make fun of your mother every time she blushed at one of Dennis’ not-quite-well-meaning flirts.In the time you’ve been gone, Dennis must’ve died, because his usual spot at the foremost checkout counter, his rickety metal stool, is occupied by his son, Ryan. He’s your age, and it appears he never grew into his big front teeth. You offer him a wave as he sets down his magazine and makes his way over to you.

“Hi, Ryan,” you say, picking up a basket from the stack near the door.

He takes a place next to you as you head for the small refrigerators at the back of the produce section, where you know the milk and eggs are. “How are you? Feels like I haven’t seen you in years!”

You laugh politely, smile stretching thin. “Yeah, it’s been a little bit. I’m good.”

“Oh, that’s good.”

The awkward quiet stretches on. You open the glass door and look for the milk your mom asked for, almond soy milk, you’re sure that isn’t real but nonetheless -

“You look just as pretty as when I last saw you,” Ryan compliments, and you feel your stomach turn at the words. Even in high school he’d been this way, interested in you, watching you from across the cafeteria and sticking notes to your locker in passing periods. He’s a little too close, you realize as you turn to him. You can feel his hot breath on your face, and instantly you smell that he didn’t brush his teeth this morning. Your flesh crawls as you meet his eyes. “Thanks,” you offer slowly. Your eyes dart to find a way around him as you say, “Ryan, you’re a little too close to me.”

He doesn’t make an effort to give you any space - in fact, quite the opposite. He steps his right foot forward, moving at nearly the pace of molasses, and you feel your adrenaline spike when he reaches his hand out to feel the cloth of your ugly sweater, his touch suddenly turning to a death grip on the cotton. “We’ve been this close before,” he murmurs, and you panic.

Your hands come up to his shoulders and shove him away as hard as you possibly can. You succeed in pushing him away, partly, but his right hand is still gripping your sweater, anchoring him to you. His quiet demeanor dissolves into something resembling hurt as he pulls you closer to him, grabbing your other shoulder with his free hand -

The front door squeaks open. Ryan, distracted, turns to look at the door. You take this moment to finally shove him off of you, running around him. There’s another man standing at the front door, eyes flicking back and forth from you and Ryan. When you move to get past him, he appears to regain his senses, following you out of the store.

“Wait! Are you okay?” He yells, and the sound of his voice stops you in your tracks.

You freeze in the middle of the sidewalk. There’s no way. There’s no way. You’re delusional. “Excuse me?” He asks again.

You turn slowly on your heels. He looks so concerned, his face contorted in the same way he used to frown when you’d fail a turn on the ice while practicing your routine. That worry, reminiscent of how he’d skate over and offer you a hand, pulling you up with a simple “Are you alright?”

You exhale, hard. There’s no sign of recognition on his face, no nostalgia, no recovered memories of an old friend. You’re having a freak coincidence right now, and the only other person who would understand has no idea who you are.

He walks over, his boots crunching rock salt as he surveys your face for wounds. “Can you hear me?”

Snap out of it.

You blink a couple times. Nod. Twice. “Yes, I’m sorry, yes, I’m okay.”

The friend smiles, but it’s confused, worried. “Do you need me to call 911, or…?”

“No,” you laugh. The noise catches both of you by surprise, but you can’t stop, dropping the basket, giggles shaking your body. The situation is a little comical, in all honesty - you’re stuck in your hometown with your dysfunctional family, you were practically just assaulted by someone who’s been in love with you since the eighth grade, and the boy you were once in love with doesn’t remember you. It’s like the plot of a Hallmark movie, if Hallmark movies were written by whoever writes Grey’s Anatomy.

You look up at him, and there’s that little chuckle of his, the one that lights up his whole face. He’s confused, yeah, but he’s got the right spirit. You clear your throat and extend your hand to him. “Thank you, really.”

He takes it gently. “Sure. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, definitely, thank you.” Releasing his hand, you pick up the basket from the ground. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m good.”

“Okay.” He’s still watching your face carefully. “You know what? Why don’t I accompany you home?”

Oh, no. No thank you. Not today. Not in my Hallmark movie.

“No thanks. I’ll be fine.”“Can I at least give you my number?”

You look at him incredulously. “Why?”

He shrugs. “So you can text me to make sure you got home okay.”

Your laugh is cold, abrupt. “Why would you care?”

“Because I just saw you get assaulted! Is it a crime to care about people?”

“No, but it’s weird to give your number to a stranger.”

“People do it all the time.”

“Oh, do they, really? Where?”

“Bars. Clubs. Parties.”

“We’re not in any of those places.”

He rolls his eyes with a smile, already whipping out his phone. “I’m Vince. Dunn.”

You laugh a little self-consciously. “Yeah, I know.”

Vince looks up from tapping his screen to raise his eyebrow at you. “You’re into hockey?”

“No. We went to school together.”

His eyes widen, first with shock. You see the initial confusion pass and become replaced by intense, sudden recognition. “Y/N?”

You grin broadly. “Long time no see.”

---

This absolutely wasn’t your fault.

You hadn’t ever expected him to go along with it, let alone offer himself up to help you. You’d merely been commiserating. Right, sharing your troubles with a friend.

Vince takes you to brunch the next day, a welcome reprieve from your family. Your mother protests, but you’re only half-listening to her while you watch the read 9:13 am appear below your most recent text to him.

vince

La Fontaine is way overpriced. Let me show you a place

You smile and type back, what? so you can get me alone?

vince

Is it really so bad to want to spend time alone with an old friend?

vince

We haven’t seen each other in years, there’s no way you know any good breakfast places here

you

you remember that i grew up here, right?

vince

Sorry, how long’s it been since you’ve been here?

you

touche

you

bastard

Vince

It’s within walking distance. I’ll meet you at Bailey’s at 10?

you

sounds like a plan

It’s good, to see him again. Your breath fogs the space in front of you, dissipating when you walk through it, your steps in perfect synchronization with Vince’s. He leads you down a back road that hadn’t existed when you were little and entertains you the whole walk with tales of his hockey shenanigans. You find yourself shocked that the Vince you knew as a child, the goofy kid that never quite fit in, is now a famous professional athlete. Time has changed him, too; he’s so mature now, with his good posture and manners. He holds the door open to a small diner off Quincy and Arlette, and you find yourself wondering if an alien kidnapped your childhood best friend and possessed his body.

When he starts talking is when you feel your heart begin to slip. The way he grins when he’s talking about his friends or his family or something stupid he’s done is breathtaking, his lips reaching his eyes. The way he throws his head back when he laughs, a deep, shaky noise, like if he’s too loud he’s going to break something.

So when he asks about your love life, you can’t help it. You open your mouth and words materialize on your lips without you even consciously forming them. You tell him everything, about your tragic love history and the way you felt when your mother asked snidely if you were going to bring a boy home for Christmas and the panic in your chest when you blurted “yes.”

And when your lip wobbles after you finish, he swears he can see tears beginning to prick at your eyes. Baby, he thinks - no, he feels the word in his heart, looking at you like this.It’s not your fault he offered himself up. He’s a grown man, he makes his own decisions, and he is the one who decided to pretend to be your boyfriend at Christmastime. In front of your family.

You’re just the one who’s going along with it.

---

“We should probably hold hands.”

The skin of his hands is rough, calloused, a sharp contrast to your soft touch. His palm feels so big against yours, the flat surface nearly dwarfing your whole hand, long fingers enclosed around yours. He bites his nails - you know from one glance at the chewed nubs of calcium.

“And hug,” he adds. “Couples hug.”

“Okay, fine, hugging, too.”

When his arms snake their way around your torso from behind, you become acutely aware of just how touch-starved you are. Every nerve ending is on fire, rocketing signals lightning-fast to your brain, adrenaline flooding your system. Your heartbeat quickens, and you know he feels it, the bastard, because your mother asks him what he’s smiling about, and he says “Nothing.”

You turn in his arms when she leaves, taking a step away from him. He looks mildly dismayed at the loss of your warmth but doesn’t comment on it. You lead the topic of conversation away from the hug.

“What about kissing?” Vince points out. “Couples kiss.”

Five.

That line has been ringing through his head all night. Every glimpse he catches of you, every tiny little look, makes the phrase rattle around his skull like a maraca of that one phrase.

When you catch his eye across the kitchen and make a funny face at him, a small gesture of togetherness in an atmosphere so cold and distancing.

“Couples kiss.”

Four.

When he rounds the corner to find the bathroom. You come around the opposite side at the same time and smack your face right against his chest, and when you pull back frantically you look up at Vince with a look of such pure apology he can’t help it.

“Couples kiss.”

Three.

You take his hand under the table at dinner. You don’t even really know why - it’s a strangely intimate gesture - but you see it through, your small hand resting gently on top of his.He flips his hand over so you can lace your fingers through his.

“Couples kiss.”

Two.

You huff, considering him.

“Only if it’s an absolute emergency.”

New Year’s isn’t an emergency, Vince knows. He knows New Year’s is actually the exact opposite of an emergency, nothing important, and if he could, he’d walk away. At least, he pretends he would.

But he can’t, because your siblings are egging him on, face-to-face with you.

“Couples kiss.”

“Only if it’s an absolute emergency.”

“An absolute emergency.”

“Couples kiss.”

“Emergency.”

“Only if it’s an absolute emergency.”

He knows New Year’s isn’t an emergency and he knows he could just brush Danny and Jo off but the light is framing you so perfectly, and the way you smile at him so earnestly - his brain is shaking like a pinball machine but he doesn’t have time to consider that so he kisses you.

One.

He kisses you.

Your lips are sweet against his. You taste like sugar, he notices.

And then you pull away and make an excuse to use the restroom again and while Jo and Danny screech congratulations and celebrations at him. The champagne glass in his hand feels empty, and the hand he had tangled in your hair only seconds ago feels like it’s burning.

Couples kiss.

---

When you press the hastily-wrapped present into his hands, you won’t meet his eyes. It’s days after that kiss, that goddamned mistake, and you’re so shaky you can barely keep it together. The sight of you in such an uncomfortable state in Vince’s presence hits him in the heart and causes a deep knot to settle in his stomach.

Idiot.

“I know we said no presents,”

“We’re not a couple,” you said. “You don’t have to get me anything.”

“But I think you deserve at least one. For putting up with my family.”

“What if I want to get you something? As friends?”

He offers his best normal smile. “You didn’t have to,” he says. A car horn blasts from somewhere near.

You scowled at him, but he just continued. “I can get presents for my friends.”

It’s ironic that he’s the one who asked to give presents but here you are, with a present, and here he is, empty-handed.

The silence is awkward.“Well,” you say. “Have a good trip.”

You’re turning to leave when his hand grips your upper arm, holding you in place. You move your gaze to meet his, and before you can say anything, he says,

“Hey.” His eyes are boring holes into yours. You feel goosebumps litter your skin when he says, “Happy New Year.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, and he lets you go.

He lets you go.

---

The box weighs heavy in his lap. The car moves with every bump in the road, and with each jolt he feels the cardboard corners, wrapped in patterns of reindeer faces and Santa’s smile, pressing into his legs. The sharp, quick pain is a constant reminder, and it makes him think of you. Even the wrapping paper is so stereotypically you, obviously something you grabbed from the back of your closet or (more likely) borrowed from a neighbor or classmate. He could see it now, the way you asked with a smile if they had any ugly wrapping paper, the confusion on their face as you lit up when they said, yeah, why? You delighted in the stupid pattern, so busy that he could barely focus on just one aspect. And you’d certainly picked a black Sharpie to write his name, knowing full well it’d easily be lost in the mottled colors and insane patterns. The way you wrote Vince, in that unique combination of print and cursive, like you couldn’t decide - again, so predictably you. He traces the big V with his index finger, picturing you in your apartment, on the floor, taking special care to write his name this way, on the top where he would at least have a chance of seeing it. Your hair falling into your face, hand gripping the pen and being oh-so-meticulous about the way you wrote it, his name, not wanting it to be too big, but not too small either. Just the right size to grab his attention.

Of course you would.

And you’d have known that he would hate to tear open the paper, to rip something with so much significance to him. He flips the box over and finds the taped-over seam. There has to be a way to undo this without ruining the wrapping, he knows, so he picks at the tape gently, taking care not to destroy the delicate paper. The taping is perfect, because you, obviously, couldn’t handle anything else. It spans the exact length of the box, no more, no less; you’ve always been a perfectionist.

He manages to unwrap the box with only one or two tiny tears and feels a tiny moment of pride immediately eclipsed by the desire to know what, exactly, you’ve given him for Christmas. He flips it over to find the top once more and does so successfully. The top flaps of cardboard are folded over each other without any tape, and he remembers begging you to teach him how to do this when you were kids, making presents for the teachers at your school. You never did.

He pulls one of the tabs and, like magic, the whole top undoes itself. Inside, there’s another small box with what he assumes are polaroids, two tiny boxes next to each other, a wrapped present in the shape of a book, all placed meticulously on shredded filler paper. Delicately taped on top of the book-shaped item is an envelope.

On the front, Vince, in your script. Of course.

Something about the box smells familiar, so he brings the envelope to his nose, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. The scent of your favorite perfume, the one you wear constantly, your lucky charm (as you’ve informed him several times), floods his senses, and he nearly cries at the nostalgia that fills his heart. His whole body aches with pain, begging him, make the Uber driver turn the car around, run back.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he opens the envelope carefully. Inside is a stack of papers folded together several times, small enough to fit the package. He can’t help but smile at the long, flowing script you use when you write on loose-leaf, when you’re feeling emotional. Again the way you write has his heartstrings tugging. He isn’t a crier, usually, but for you he makes an exception. For you tears gather in his eyes, threatening to break and bury him. For you he feels, feels so deeply and painfully he doesn’t know if he can manage to read more than Dear Vince because it might kill him, the aching in his heart and the begging in his hands. The memory of you is poised for destruction in his mind and he can’t help but wonder if you’d known this is what you could do to him, this was the power you held over his life.

Dear Vince, that fatal first line reads.

Dear Vince.

#vince dunn fic

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greenhousegrandpa · 4 years

Note

Who would you say are like the elite blogs right now in the community? Or blogs you think are pretty popular

This is a super hard question. I’m fully unqualified to talk about who’s “elite” or “popular.” Mostly because I don’t really feel as plugged into the AC community as I want to be, and partly because my preferences are very whimsical, foresty, woodsy, cottagecore, basically make me feel cozy and I’ll love u forever. of course, everyone has different and valid aesthetic preferences

so instead of actually answering your question i’m gonna give u a long, long, long list (seriously omg this got so long) of some of my favorite AC bloggers. Really, this is just some. There are so many talented AC bloggers on Tumblr and boy oh boy they’re all angels

@caterpillow – this village actually feels like a town where people live and exist, which is so hard to achieve and caterpillow has nailed it

@colin-crossing – funny, unique, incredible artist, island is so sweet and i want to live there and for it to rain 24/7 always

@electracnh – looking for an island where u might get hexed by a witch? ok well u found it. forest forest forest beauty

@iltacatact – an incredible creator with a breezy village. truly talented at decorating interiors

@leifstump – i luv skyrim, and leifstump is working on a cottagecore/skyrim-esque island which is so fun to follow

@mayorbrewster – u want wood? u want stone? u want perfect cozy forest/orchard vibes? u got it

@mirkwoodmoth – literally NAILSSSS the LOTR/Mirkwood/forest aesthetic. Everything they do is *chef’s kiss*

@mjcrossing – when i become a wildflower/honey bee farmer, this island is what i want my 1,000-acre farm to look like

@mochi-moss – beach decorating PERFECTION. like... no competition

@mochmint – art is adorable, town is adorable, is probably adorable. They post a lot of villager interactions and I love.

@moonbell-cottage – some people are pretty good with the designer tool. moonbell-cottage is an expert and will make u want triple the number of design slots. and that’s before mentioning their gorg island

@nettleisland – a super colorful island that uses lots of cliffs to create amazing horizons. also IS NOT GETTING ENOUGH ATTENTION FOLKS

@oakins – if u love towns with more overgrown/foresty vibes rather than lived-in town vibes, here’s ur spot. So lovely and utilizes weeds in my favorite way ever, so deliciously weedy. plus the way they edit their pictures… so good

@pasteliapeaches – posts 100% fire content 100% of the time. so amazing at decorating indoors and outdoors. like 1/3 of this island is dedicated to a rainbow flower field and that’s not even the most impressive part. 10/10

@pigeoncoffee – i love this island sfm. it looks like an old town that’s been lived in and loved for generations and gives me lots of nostalgic feels

@pigeoncreamer – medieval witchy cozy goodness. amazing. i want to spend the rest of my days in this island as the resident old weirdo lady that drinks tea and has 25 cats and wants for nothing. plus posts regular YouTube updates and it takes everything in me not to copy everything!!!!

@poppyhilldreams – i don’t know how to use flowers that aren’t white or black. poppyhilldreams does not have this problem. whimsical af

@poppypier – an incredible artist whose island is perfectly moody and broody with lots of really well-utilized unique paths!

@puretopia – this village is where i want to sit and read a book and listen to the nature sounds and no one bothers me because it’s BEAUTIFUL and so calm

@setlettie – there’s a real calmness and coziness about their island and their home. and an EXPERT terraformer. friggin inspiring

@skwivr – witchcore/cottagecore deliciousness. also her talent with the design tool is unreal. i designed my entire picnic area around her blanket design

@sproids – uses trees so beautifully to separate spaces and create unique landscapes!

@venvs-comb – everything u want. a witchy and skillfully terraformed town, an expertly curated blog, yes siree

#ask

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crygimethydgoode · 3 years

Text

Lover’s Fantasia Chapter 1 (Crystal Methyd x Gigi Goode RPDR12) Cruel Summer

no rules in breakable heaven

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32286397/chapters/80027176

June 28th, 2021

Amsterdam

It was a fresh start. And it was exactly what Gigi needed after finally starting to feel like herself, finally seeing the sun without her smile. It was a new city bustling with new people and new experiences. It was perfect timing too. Soon after Biden was sworn into office, vaccines were being rolled out. By spring Gigi was fully vaccinated, she could finally go out with her friends and feel the sun beating down on her skin. Her best friend had just won Drag Race, and in late May they celebrated with a trip to Mexico. Gigi was performing again, living again. She breathed in the fresh air that was once masked with a piece of cloth. Everything was finally going back to normal.

Well, almost everything.

Because some days Gigi still went to Venice Beach to sit alone for a moment, allowing herself to bask in the almost nostalgic feeling. Allowing herself to feel that ache in her chest she had fought so hard to push down the past year. But she knew that feeling wouldn’t last, so she’d leave, telling herself it was for the best. Then the sun blinded Gigi through her curtains early one morning when she got a call from Jaida Essence Hall and Michelle Visage offering her a gig for the summer in Amsterdam. And Gigi couldn’t help but hope. It was Hunter who ultimately convinced her to go.

“It’ll be good for you,” he said. “It’s new. It’s nothing she’s… touched.” And Hunter was right, so that night they booked a ticket to Amsterdam. Gigi was excited, she really was. What could be better than spending nearly three months with Jaida and Michelle while they prepared for the iconic Amsterdam Pride? It was the perfect opportunity.

So why did Gigi’s chest ache as she made her way through customs? She decided to ignore it, which was something she had gotten used to doing. The Schiphol airport was much different than LAX. It didn’t have the same white interior and harsh lights that always caught Gigi in her worst moments, no, this airport was different. It was modern, but not artificial. With plenty of art, places to sit, and excitement. It was enough to make her nerves settle.

Gigi’s eyes scanned the horizon through the large windows, and if she squinted she swore she could see Amsterdam, her home for the next few months. She saw The Man in the Clock and quickly took a picture, captioning it “surprise!” before sending it to her story. She decided to keep Amsterdam a secret from the fans, mostly because she couldn’t promise that when the day came, she would be able to get on the plane.

“Don’t be dumb,” Symone said to Gigi as they walked into the airport, Hunter trailing behind. “This is a good thing, Gigi, you’re gonna realize it as soon as that plane takes off.”

So Gigi boarded the plane, not wanting the last time she saw Symone for a while to end in a fight. And she made it to Amsterdam, but now she wasn’t exactly sure what to do from here. She decided going to baggage claim would probably be a good start.

As Gigi walked to the baggage claim, she decided that Symone was right, and this really was the best thing for her. It had to be. She stood waiting for her suitcase when a flash of color caught her eye. Her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach, hoping her eyes were just playing tricks on her. It wouldn’t be the first time. Sometimes she’d see a head of curls on the street and her heart would skip a beat, and the sensible part of Gigi’s mind would remind her that they were worlds away.

Gigi assumed it was just her wishful thinking and continued to look for her suitcase and waited for the tightness in her chest to go away. But then the flash of color Gigi had seen came into full view. A hot pink suitcase covered in various stickers with a leopard print scarf tied around the handle. Suddenly her heart shot up from the bottom of her stomach into her throat. Gigi blinked a few times, trying to wake herself up from this nightmare. ‘It couldn’t be,’ Gigi thought. ‘There’s no fucking way.’

“Excuse me, pardon me,” a small nasally voice said. ‘No. Nope. This can’t be happening. This cannot be happening. Fuck this. It’s not her, it couldn’t be.’

“Excuse me, thank you- Gigi?”

Fuck. Gigi took a deep breath and grabbed the pink suitcase, as well as her own. She turned around.

“Hi,” Gigi said.

“Hello?”

Summer 2019

Drag Race

Gigi paced around her hotel room, deep in thought. It was her first day off after the first challenge. Gigi had been stuck in her room all day, just expected to sit around and do nothing. Just expected to ignore the longing in her chest for her friends back home. Hunter, Symone, Rosy, Marko, who were just a short car ride away, technically. But Gigi was locked in her hotel room, being told to enjoy some time off. In solitary confinement. What a way to celebrate the fact she had just nearly won her first challenge of Drag Race, placing in the top two of the very first challenge. Gigi was on cloud nine, relieved that she made a good first impression.

And that the judges liked all the helmets.

But Gigi was so lonely, all she could do was lay in bed and watch weird daytime television. She tried to watch the shitty soap operas but they were just so boring and corny, she couldn’t stomach them. She didn’t have anything to work on, anything to read, nothing. She even attempted to work out, jogging around the tiny hotel room. That lasted for thirty seconds.

Gigi knew the obvious solution. One of the first things she had noticed in her hotel room was the conjoined door, which led right into Crystal’s room. Crystal Methyd. Probably the weirdest person Gigi had ever met. Not just because of her crazy bright drag, clown makeup, and outrageous but perfect amount of jewelry. No, she was shocked by how drawn she was to Crystal. She really was unlike anyone Gigi had ever met.

When Jackie asked Crystal if she was a fashion queen or a comedy queen, and Crystal just responded with “Fashion queen, comedy queen, I’m a TALENTED queen,” Gigi was completely fascinated by her. And then she actually got to talk to Crystal and get to know her a little bit, and Gigi knew in a heartbeat that Crystal was special. She was bright, sociable, and funny. But also really quiet, drawn into herself. Gigi couldn’t quite decide what it was, but Crystal had something the other girls didn’t. She needed to be her friend. So Gigi came up with a game plan.

She obviously couldn’t just knock and say she was bored like a loser. What if Crystal didn’t want to be bothered? What if Crystal hated her already? No. Gigi had a feeling Crystal just wasn’t that kind of person. Maybe she could ask to borrow sewing supplies, saying that she wanted to polish up one of her runway looks. And then she would just... charm Crystal into having a conversation with her? That could work. It’s not like Gigi had many options.

So she walked to the door that went into Crystal’s room. “Go before you’re ready bitch,” Gigi said to herself. She took a deep breath, raised her fist to the door, and before her screaming mind and pounding heart could stop her, she knocked. She could hear rustling coming from Crystal’s room, probably her crawling out of bed.

‘Do you have a big sewing needle? Do you have a big sewing needle? Do you have a big sewing needle?’ Gigi said over and over in her head. And then, before she was ready, the door swung open, and there she was. Crystal Methyd. Gigi’s breath caught in her throat and she prayed Crystal didn’t notice.

Crystal’s mullet had been put into two messy space buns on top of her head, little tendrils of curls framing her face. Gigi could tell that Crystal had hastily shoved her glasses on; they were lopsided, slowly slipping off her nose. There was only one word to describe the person who was standing in front of Gigi, being engulfed in an oversized One Direction concert T-shirt. Adorable. Her game plan flew out the window, and she was left there, speechless, looking like an idiot. What did she want again?

“Hi,” Gigi blurted lamely. Crystal’s face split into a grin, and Gigi could tell she was trying not to laugh.

“Hello?” Crystal asked in her sweet voice. Maybe it was her soft appearance. Maybe it was the fact that Gigi was too bored to care. Or maybe it was Crystal’s kind smile and bright eyes that made Gigi immediately relax. This was just Crystal. The same dork who had a One Direction tattoo on their chest in Arabic. She’s just... Crystal.

“I’m so fucking bored,” Gigi sighed, letting herself smile.

“Oh my GOD, me too! I thought about knocking on your door but I didn’t wanna bother you. Do you wanna come in?” Crystal offered, stepping to the side. Oh. That’s it? That’s all it took?

“Yeah,” Gigi grinned and stepped into Crystal’s room. Gigi’s heart was still pounding, her stomach still felt like it was in her throat. And there was Crystal, already climbing back into the bed, beckoning Gigi to join her. It felt like… it felt like Gigi was truly seeing Crystal for the first time. And her heart was still pounding. It felt good.

Amsterdam

Gigi had imagined what it would be like to see Crystal again for the first time, she had thought of scenario after scenario. Maybe she would enter the Werkroom for All Stars and there Crystal would be standing, a bright grin on her face. Or maybe one day they would be randomly booked for the same gig and they’d bump into each other backstage. Gigi also had wondered what it would feel like to see her again. She expected it to feel like a punch in the gut, or maybe like she was drowning, gasping for air while trying to find the right words to say. But as Gigi stood in the middle of the Schipol Airport looking into Crystal’s brown eyes, the only thing she found crashing over herself was a wave of relief. Crystal was still... Crystal. For some reason, Gigi assumed Crystal would be different, or maybe Gigi assumed she would feel different. But she stood there and felt as the familiar fire began to burn in her chest.

“What are you doing here?” Crystal asked, a slur of emotions ridden on her face.

“I-”

“Oh good, you found each other!” Jaida’s voice called out. Gigi and Crystal’s heads both whipped to see Jaida and Michelle Visage.

“Welcome to Amsterdam bitches, it’s about to be the best summer ever!!!” Michelle ran to them, giving them each a hug, Jaida following suit. Gigi felt like she had just been slapped in the face, but she put on the best grin she could, and Crystal did the same.

“Look at us, top three reunited! I can’t believe it’s almost been a year since Drive n’ Drag,” Gigi’s breath hitched in the back of her throat and she hoped no one noticed.

“Totally,” Crystal said, voice falling flat.

“So excited.” Gigi managed a smile. Jaida cocked an eyebrow.

“You two okay?” Michelle asked. Gigi was anything but okay.

“Yeah. I just got to go to the bathroom before we leave,” Gigi said. She heard Jaida and Michelle questioning Crystal as she walked away.

“She’s probably just jet-lagged,” Crystal shrugged. Gigi walked faster. She rushed to the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

“Fuck,” Gigi exhaled, fumbling for her phone, not exactly sure why. Who would she even call? If Gigi told Hunter now, the rest of the day her phone would be blowing up with messages. Besides, it was around 6 AM in LA, Hunter wouldn’t even be awake for another few hours or so. Gigi decided to just splash some water on her face, hoping she didn’t worry Jaida and Michelle too much by running off.

And Crystal.

God, what could Crystal be thinking right now? Gigi took a deep breath and stared at herself in the mirror. “You got this.” And with that, she walked out of the bathroom, head held high.

“Y’all ready?” Jaida asked.

“Ready,” Gigi nodded. With a loud whoop, Michelle and Jaida started towards the exit of the airport, Crystal and Gigi trailing slightly behind. After a short walk through the parking lot, they arrived at Jaida’s rental car. Gigi put her suitcase in the trunk and tried to ignore Crystal, who was clearly watching her. Jaida was driving, Michelle had taken shotgun, which meant Gigi and Crystal would be sitting in the backseat together. Great.

Crystal and Gigi sat in their respective seats. They didn’t lean in and talk to each other, they didn’t slowly find themselves inching closer and closer until their shoulders were pressed together, they both just busied themselves by looking out the window at the flatland that seemed to go on forever. Luckily, the drive was only about twenty minutes into the city. They made some light conversation, but it was clear that Crystal and Gigi couldn’t match Jaida’s and Michelle’s energy.

“Oh! There’s this long-ass tunnel coming up. No, Michelle, I’m not talking about your throat,” Jaida said. Gigi tried to see Crystal out of the corner of her eye. She had a worried expression on her face. ‘It’s not my problem,’ Gigi thought to herself. ‘ It’s not my job to make sure she’s okay.’

Gigi knew that. But that didn’t stop the sick feeling rising in her stomach as the tunnel appeared in the distance. She bit the inside of her cheek, Crystal shifted uncomfortably in her seat as they entered the tunnel. “Weee fuckers!” Jaida cackled. Crystal forced an uncomfortable laugh.

“Can we put on some music?” Gigi folded. Crystal visibly relaxed.

“I thought you would never ask!” Michelle said, handing back the aux cord. “Who wants it?”

“Crystal, you want it?” Gigi said, trying to sound as neutral as possible. Crystal just nodded, plugging her phone in quickly. Before they knew it, the car came out the other side of the tunnel, being filled with sunlight once again.

“Oooh, ladies we are getting close! I’m so excited for you guys to see Amsterdam. You’re gonna love it here,” Michelle said after a few more minutes of driving.

“Wait, how close? Because I have something very important I need to do,” Crystal laughed. God, Gigi missed Crystal’s laugh. She had almost forgotten the way it could fill and brighten the room.

“Well this is our exit, so do what you need to do, girl,” Jaida said, taking the exit. Gigi waited, wondering what Crystal could possibly have planned. Suddenly, in the distance, the tops of roofs appeared as the busy highway turned into a bustling street full of cyclists cutting through the road, causing Jaida to scream. The buildings changed from modern, glass exteriors to faded brick masonry.

Citizens and tourists alike walked the cobblestone streets freely, other people driving didn’t blink an eye at the cyclists who truly ruled the streets. Everyone was going at their own speed, each person had their own tempo they went to. It was refreshing, seeing everyone just doing. Gigi was almost emotional, this was still her fresh start despite… everything. She could actually see herself calling this place home.

Just then, she heard it. “Boom, Clap” by Charli XCX started playing out of the car's speakers, and Crystal was wearing a shit-eating grin. Gigi tried desperately to force back her smile, but couldn’t. They turned down road after road, slowly finding their way into the heart of the city. It was fucking gorgeous, it almost felt like they had gone back in time as the vintage buildings captivated them completely. Gigi felt the excitement rise up in her chest, she couldn’t stop grinning. She stole a look at Crystal, who to her surprise, was looking back. A feeling rose within Gigi, hope, maybe. And then Jaida slammed on her breaks, causing everyone to lurch forward in their seats.

“DAMN IT’S LIKE THE VANS ALL OVER AGAIN!”

Drag Race

Once all the queens had gotten out of drag, they were escorted to the vans, which brought them back to the hotel. Gigi soon found that one of her favorite parts of being on Drag Race was oddly the van rides to and from the studio. It was about a fifteen minute drive in the mornings, but a 45 minute drive when they had to go through heavy L.A. traffic. But Gigi enjoyed it. She liked sitting with Crystal, just shooting the shit. Sometimes all the girls would make up stupid road games to pass the time, which annoyed the hell out of the driver.

But most of the time, Crystal and Gigi were off in their own little world, foreheads nearly pressed together, hushed whispers about whatever stupid random thing they were talking about, two giggling messes. But things were different tonight. The challenge was Snatch Game, and Gigi was going through a whirlwind of emotions. She had just WON Snatch Game, which was totally unexpected but meant everything.

But she had also gotten into her first “TV fight” and it wasn’t as glamorous as she had expected. If anything, she just felt like shit for coming after Heidi’s makeup out of nowhere. Yes, she looked cracked, but Gigi wished she had just kept her mouth shut.

BUT SHE HAD JUST WON SNATCH GAME.

‘I’m not just a fashion queen anymore, bitches,’ Gigi thought gleefully. And then her attention turned to the queen who was walking to the vans slower than usual, head cast down. The night had been so hectic, Gigi had only been able to talk to Crystal a couple of times since the runway. Poor Crystal. If Gigi had a bad night, it was nothing compared to hers. Crystal’s Snatch Game didn’t go so well. At all. It was shit.

No one but Gigi had really understood it. While Crystal’s Poppy was accurate, the judges didn’t find it funny. Gigi thought it was amusing. Entertaining? Well, at least her performance wasn’t as bad as Aiden’s or Britta’s.

The queens climbed into the vans, all going to their unassigned assigned seats. Gigi, Crystal, and Jackie sat in the way back, Crystal in the middle. Gigi couldn’t help but smile as Crystal slid in next to her, shoulders knocking together.

“Hey,” Gigi whispered, tilting her head to look at Crystal. She just gave Gigi a sad smile, resting her head on her shoulder. Gigi’s stomach immediately dipped, her whole body on fire. ‘Is my heart really beating that fast?’ she thought, feeling the pounding against her chest. She prayed Crystal didn’t notice. If she did, she gave nothing away. She just nuzzled her head closer to Gigi’s neck, letting out a sigh. Gigi could practically feel Jackie smirking at them, but couldn’t be bothered to care. She loved these van rides for a reason. But they couldn’t know that. So Gigi just gave a soft chuckle and leaned into Crystal. “You good?” She whispered. Crystal gave a small nod.

“‘M just tired,” Crystal murmured. The vans took off, and they were immediately stuck in L.A. traffic. Within five minutes Crystal was fast asleep. Gigi allowed herself to relax for a moment, just thinking about the person that was practically sleeping on top of her. Things with Crystal were... interesting. It was weird how fast they clicked. The minute Gigi had built up the nerve to knock on Crystal’s door, they had become nearly inseparable. Of course they were close with the other queens, but Crystal and Gigi had each other on lock, painting next to each other, working on their challenges together, riding in the vans together, always.

And nearly every night since had been spent in each other's hotel rooms; practicing the lip syncs, sewing costume pieces together in silence, or just talking about everything and nothing. They were just there for each other. Within the span of two weeks, Crystal had become one of Gigi’s favorite people in the world. Gigi couldn’t help but wonder if the feeling was mutual.

Suddenly the van hit a huge bump, causing everyone’s heads to smack the ceiling.

“Did you hit a fuckin dog?!” Gigi heard Jaida ask the van driver. With a soft laugh, Gigi turned her head to see Crystal was awake now, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

“We hit a dog?” she whispered, still half asleep. Gigi chuckled and shook her head.

“No, it was just a bump,” she replied. Crystal let out a breath, laying her head on Gigi’s shoulder again.

“Your snatch game was so good,” Crystal muttered dreamily. Gigi could feel her face beginning to heat up, but tried to keep her cool.

She’s just Crystal. Just Crystal.

She’s just... Crystal.

“Thank you,” Gigi replied softly. She wasn't sure why, but something gave her the nerve to reach for Crystal’s hand, giving it a light squeeze. Crystal laced their fingers together and didn’t let go.

“I’m just so happy for you. You’re killing it, Geege. You’re gonna go all the way,”

“Yeah well, I’m not going anywhere without you. So you better do good next week. I need you,” the words came out of Gigi’s mouth before she could even think to stop herself. Crystal raised her head, turning to look straight into Gigi’s eyes.

“You will not see me in the bottom again,” Crystal said, a determined look on her face. And Gigi believed her.

“I know.”

The vans pulled up to the hotel, and everyone was escorted to their rooms. Crystal and Gigi said a quick “goodnight” in the hallway in front of the producers and went into their respective rooms. And then Gigi heard it. Her knock. Gigi opened her conjoined door and there Crystal was, looking like she was holding back a shit-eating grin.

“Was my Snatch Game really that bad?”

“Crystal...” Gigi trailed off. And they both burst into laughter. And it was nice.

Amsterdam

It was nice to laugh with Crystal again, nice to feel carefree and happy with her again, driving through the streets of Amsterdam as Jaida and Michelle pointed out a few of the clubs.

“You bitches aren’t ready to see your apartments! We’re all in the same building, Jaida and I are a floor below you,” Michelle said excitedly, turning back in her seat as Jaida turned down a narrow road.

“Y’all are on the top floor. Michelle and I didn’t wanna go up all those stairs. Sorry bitches!” Jaida cackled unapologetically. So not only did Gigi have to spend two months in Amsterdam with Crystal, she also had to live right next to her.

‘This is fine. Amsterdam is still my fresh start. This is fine. I will be alright,’ Gigi repeated over and over in her head until Jaida parked on the side of a busy street, her car parallel with one of the many canals in Amsterdam.“See that coffeeshop?'' Jaida pointed at a tall building across the street that was much wider than the other ones. There was a coffeeshop on the bottom floor, the storefront painted bright turquoise. All along the windows were tiny versions of all the different pride flags waving in the wind.

Looking through the windows Gigi could see walls covered in art as people sat in booths, passing joints around with dazy grins on their faces. And Gigi couldn’t help but grin too. “We’re living right above it! Pretty good gig, right?! Me and my girl Michelle tiptoe down the stairs every night, we smoke a little, laugh a little, and stumble up into our beds. You two are gonna love it, I know,” Jaida explained as everyone helped unload Crystal and Gigi’s suitcases. Gigi could tell Crystal wasn’t paying attention, looking around the city in wonder.

Jaida and Michelle started to cross the street towards the apartments, but Crystal was still standing in the same spot, watching the hustle and bustle of Amsterdam.

“Crystal,” Gigi called, not wanting to cross the street without her. Crystal’s head snapped in Gigi’s direction, and she immediately ran towards her, suitcase in trail.

“Sorry. Thanks. It’s just all so...” Crystal trailed off as they followed Michelle and Jaida into the apartment building.

“I know,” Gigi muttered, giving Crystal a tight smile.

“Right,” Crystal said, her voice barely above a whisper. They walked up a narrow stairway behind Jaida and Michelle. After climbing four long flights of stairs, they finally stopped. The four stood on a small landing, barely fitting. There were two doors across from each other, the one on the left labeled 28, the one on the right 27. “I want 28!” Crystal blurted, eyes wild. Gigi had to hold back a laugh.

“That was your apartment anyway, dipshit. Michelle, if you wanna give Crystal a tour of her apartment, I can show Gigi around hers,” Jaida said, and pulled Gigi into her apartment. She looked around at the narrow but long room. Immediately to the left, there was a door that led to the bathroom. Gigi stood in front of the door, looking at the small kitchenette before her, knowing she would never use it. But there was a small table with four chairs that Gigi immediately knew she would use to organize all of her drag stuff. To the right, there was a huge bed with fluffy white pillows and a matching comforter. And right next to the bed was a door that led outside.

“THAT’S RIGHT BITCH YOU GOT A BALCONY!!!” Jaida exclaimed as she dragged Gigi outside. She was immediately blown away by the sight. The balcony overlooked a small canal, jutting over the water. There was no road, just another set of apartments on the other side. But to her right, Gigi could still see the main street where Jaida’s car was parked, tourists and dutch folk alike going in and out of the small shops and restaurants. “And you get to share the balcony with Crystal! You two will have fun out here,” Jaida winked at her. Gigi saw another door right next to hers, which she guessed led to Crystal’s apartment. Conjoined balconies. Cute.

Jaida walked back inside, leaving Gigi no time to dwell on it as she went in after her. “Anyways, not much of a tour, there’s not much to see, but I just wanted to help you get all settled in! At like, 7, I thought we could get dinner? Go explore the city a little?” Jaida stood at the door, a glint in her eye. She knew.

“Yeah. That’s great,” Gigi replied easily. Jaida opened the door, and Gigi couldn’t help but stop her. “You left out some key details when you invited me here, Jaida. I didn’t know Crystal would be... joining us,” She tried to sound as casual and pleasant as possible, but she gave Jaida a pointed stare.

“Oops must’ve slipped my mind! SORRYBYE,” Jaida winked and practically ran out of the apartment. And Gigi was alone.

“Fuck,” she said out loud. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK!” Gigi collapsed onto her bed and immediately took out her phone to FaceTime Hunter. “I don’t care if you’re sleeping, bitch, pick up,” She whispered, waiting to see Hunter’s face. He finally answered, still in bed. Gigi could see Marko’s sleeping body next to him.

“Geege it’s so fucking early whaaaaat,” Hunter groaned. ‘Oh just you wait bitch,’ Gigi thought. No matter how miserable she was, she couldn’t wait to see Hunter’s face when he found out.

“Guess who’s joining me, Michelle, and Jaida in Amsterdam?” Gigi said in a false cheery voice. Hunter just looked at her for a moment, and she could see the realization slowly dawn on his face.

“No.”

“Hunter...” She said, feeling the familiar tightening in her throat.

“No,” Hunter said again, and Gigi was surprised to see tears in his eyes. Fuck.

“Yeah,” Gigi said lamely, now trying to fight back her own tears. She had almost forgotten just how shitty her situation was. Almost.

“Gigi...” Hunter whispered, hand clasped over his mouth.

“Hunter...” Gigi’s voice cracked, and fuck she was crying again.

“A whole year of progress, of you finally... finally being your old self again. It’s all-all gone. And those assholes didn’t even tell you?!” Hunter was pissed now, getting out of bed and pacing around the darkroom.

“No, but it’s okay! I’m still me. This is still my fresh start, I can do this. She doesn’t matter,” Gigi said fiercely. And she wanted to believe herself so badly. But Hunter didn’t look convinced. And she wasn’t either.

“Gigi... what are you gonna do?” Hunter asked, still shell shocked.

“I don’t know. I don’t know. I guess just... keep my distance? I don’t know, Hunter,” Her voice cracked.

“Hasn’t the universe put you through enough?” Hunter implored, desperately trying not to break. Gigi had also forgotten how hard everything had been on him. How he was left to pick up her broken pieces.

“I guess not,” She answered lamely. She just looked at Hunter for a moment and watched as he took a deep breath, collecting himself. And then he went into momager mode.

“Okay. Here’s what we’re gonna do. You are not going to be alone with Crystal. Ever. You have worked on yourself way too much to throw it all away for her. Okay? If you feel like you’re gonna do something stupid, call me. I don’t care if I’m sleeping, I don’t care if I’m at a rager. I don’t give a shit- Fucking call me. You can’t do this again Gigi. We can’t do this again,” Hunter ordered Gigi, giving her no room to object. And she easily agreed, even though a small, secret part of her didn’t want to. Not long after Hunter hung up, going back to bed. As Gigi stared at the ceiling, she knew she was utterly fucked. After all, when had Gigi ever actually listened to Hunter?

Drag Race

When Gigi heard a knock on her door, she wasn't exactly surprised. Crystal had been coming to visit every night since the Political challenge. And every night Gigi dreamed in screaming colors. At first, she tried to blame it on the excitement of being on Drag Race, but Gigi knew she was just lying to herself. She opened the door and of course, Crystal was there. Her mullet was pulled up into a top knot with a scrunchie, a mischievous grin had taken over her face, one hand behind her back. Needless to say, Gigi was ready to say yes to whatever Crystal had in store.

“What’s behind your back?” Gigi cocked an eyebrow.

“Well, I told you I was saving a joint for my first win...” Crystal sang, revealing a joint and lighter in hand.

“Oh my fucking god,” Gigi laughed, a rush of excitement crashing over her.

“I figured if we turn on the steam-fan-thingy in the bathroom and smoke in there everything would be fine, right?” Crystal asked. It was a bad plan. Definitely a bad plan that could get them both in trouble. But Gigi couldn’t be bothered to care.

“I’m in,” She grinned.

“Okay, we have to go to the vending machine first though,” Crystal said, and then “I already begged the producers to let us go together, be thankful it’s Annie and Noelle babysitting tonight.”

They walked down the long hallway, visibly excited. Gigi leaned against the side of the vending machine, peering at Crystal through the glass as she punched in item after item.

“Are you a peanut butter gal? I kinda am. It’s not my first choice but also not my last choice, you know? God, I wish they had Swedish fish...” Crystal kept on rambling about candy, but Gigi couldn’t hear over the pounding in her chest. The artificial light shone in Crystal’s face, and Gigi had to force back her smile. As she got lost in Crystal, Gigi couldn’t help but feel as if she was breaking out loud, the way she never did. “That should cover it,” Crystal said, arms full of snacks. The smile Gigi was forcing down shone through. “What?” Crystal asked, looking shy. Gigi smiled.

“Nothing. Come on, let me help,” she said, taking some of the snacks. They went back into their respective hotel rooms before Gigi entered Crystal’s room through the conjoined door. Crystal turned on the fan, it was a little annoying, a little loud, but didn’t matter at all to Gigi. Crystal threw all the snacks in the tub, and Gigi saw the lightbulb in Crystal’s head.

“I just had the best idea-”

“One step ahead of you,” Gigi laughed lightly, already going to sit in the bathtub. Somehow, their legs ended up in a tangled mess, but neither of them moved. Gigi grabbed the joint and cleared her throat. “This joint is being smoked tonight to honor the one and only Crystal Methyd’s first win!” Gigi said. Crystal cheered for herself. “I will now do the honorary lighting. Miss Methyd, if you would.” Crystal held the joint between her lips. Gigi had to hold her breath as the flame reached the joint. Crystal inhaled deeply then exhaled through a grin.

“Finally!” Crystal laughed, passing the joint to Gigi. She took a hit, sending all the smoke into her lungs then back out. They passed the joint back and forth a few more times until Gigi could feel the familiar buzzing in her chest and the tingling set underneath her eyes. She found herself giggling as she watched Crystal take another hit, coughing as she exhaled.

“Okay!” Crystal coughed. “First impressions of each other, go!” Gigi took a second to think. She had replayed the first time she met Crystal in her head over and over, but it was hard to put what she felt into words.

“Uhm... I remember you walked into the werkroom, and I thought ‘What is this thing-’” Gigi started. Crystal immediately started laughing, shifting to face Gigi. “And then you introduced yourself, and you talked about your One Direction tattoo, and I... I don’t know, I feel like I immediately could just be me around you. You were just... I don’t know. Yeah,” Gigi finished. Crystal passed her the joint.

“I thought you looked like Kelly Mantle at first. And I absolutely thought that you were going to hate me,” Crystal laughed. Gigi’s jaw dropped.

“Crystal-”

“I’m sorry.”

“You thought I looked like Kelly-“

“It was the hair-”

“-Mantle? Bacon dress girl?”

“Only for a second! And she’s a VERY talented Drag Queen!”

“Why would you think I’d hate you?”

“Because you were like... pretty. Not pretty, you were stunning. And stunning people sometimes don’t like me or don’t understand my drag. I don’t know, I just thought you’d hate me. People do,” she shrugged. Gigi didn’t know what to say. “I don’t know. You just made me... nervous? Then I heard you knock on my door on our first day off, and I got so excited because I just really wanted you to like me,” Crystal giggled, but there was weight behind the words.

“Crystal Elizabeth Methyd, there is no world where I could ever hate you,” Gigi said. Crystal looked at her differently for a second.

“Did you just call me Crystal Elizabeth Methyd?” Crystal chuckled. Gigi didn’t even realize she had called her that.

“Yeah...?” she said. Crystal just burst out laughing.

“I love that! That’s my name now. Crystal ELIZABETH Methyd. I sound fancy!” Crystal giggled.

When Gigi got the call saying she made it on Drag Race, this was the last thing she thought would happen. She didn’t think she’d find herself opening up one stitch at a time to Crystal. Yet as the smokescreen faded in and out of view, legs tangled, something screamed from within her. Crystal took a hit, then exhaled the smoke onto a piece of chocolate.

“Gigi, look! I made you an edible!” she laughed. Something screamed from within Gigi, and it screamed “This is exactly where you should be.” They finished the joint and ate all the snacks while swapping stories and laughs back and forth. Gigi learned a lot about Crystal, she learned about Get Dusted and all the work Crystal did for the drag community in Springfield with her friends. Gigi couldn’t wait to meet all of them. She also learned about Crystal’s fear of tunnels.

“Like, there’s cars above you, and you’re just stuck and I get all claustrophobic… it’s just not good,” Crystal explained. Gigi loved learning about Crystal, she loved watching her eyes light up as she praised her friends back home, about everything she accomplished with the Get Dusted girls. And Gigi loved as Crystal listened to her long-winded life story that she had definitely already told her before. But Crystal paid close attention, gasping in all the right places, listening intently. Hours had passed without either of them realizing it.

“Shit. It’s probably three by now,” Gigi groaned, rubbing her tired eyes. Crystal sighed.

“This is my least favorite part of the night,” she said. Gigi cocked an eyebrow. “Saying goodbye.” And again, Gigi saw a light bulb appear in Crystal’s brain. “You could stay the night!”

So Gigi crawled into bed with Crystal and tried to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. She dreamed of Crystal in the glow of neon signs, her hair, her glasses, her hands, her. When Gigi woke up, the silence of morning couldn’t be louder.

Amsterdam

At some point, Gigi found the motivation to get out of bed and stop moping, worrying about how she was going to avoid Crystal all summer. But Hunter was right. She could do this. Why would she ever be alone with Crystal anyways? All she had to do was lock herself in her apartment. Never go out on the balcony. Always make sure she was with Michelle or Jaida. Gigi could do it. And if she ever felt like she couldn’t, she would just FaceTime Hunter. She could do it easily.

But still. A small part of her didn’t want to.

Gigi shoved that intrusive thought down real fast and got changed for dinner. At 6:45 Jaida and Michelle came knocking on her door, and soon the group of four was off to dinner. Gigi had no idea where Jaida and Michelle had taken them. All she knew was that the booth was way too cramped, her arm nearly brushing Crystal’s. She thought this would be the worst part of dinner. But really it was Jaida and Michelle’s lame attempts at small talk.

“So. Crystal,” Jaida began, looking at her expectedly. “Why did I hear a little rumor that Widow is babysitting your cat?”

“Um... because she is,” Crystal giggled awkwardly. And then they were right back to that awkward silence. They soon finished up their meal, and Gigi didn’t look at Crystal the rest of the night, knowing she couldn’t. Knowing it would unlock something too strong. Something she couldn’t just push down and forget. But then Crystal was walking on the edge of a canal, arms spread, trying to balance. Fucking idiot.

Gigi found herself slowly inching closer to Crystal, knowing she was tipsy and stupid. She noticed. The minute Crystal could feel Gigi’s presence, her head whipped to look at her. And then she stumbled. In a flash, Gigi’s arms flew out, one hand clutching Crystal’s elbow, the other one pulling her by the shoulder. Crystal stumbled into Gigi, but at least she didn’t stumble into the canal. Crystal regained her footing, quickly pulling away from Gigi after muttering a lame “thanks.”

Gigi’s mind was going crazy, her heart was pounding, her body on fire. That was the first time she had touched Crystal since... that was the first time Gigi had touched Crystal in ten months, just short of a year. It was all too much. That was the first time she had seen Crystal in a year. The first time she had spoken to her. She had been cut off from Crystal for nearly a year with absolutely no contact, just trying to forget about her. Could Gigi really do this? She thought she could. She hoped this would get easier.

“Y’all wanna smoke before bed?! I think it’ll be magical,” Jaida turned. Crystal hummed in agreement, Gigi just gave a silent nod. They soon made it to the coffeeshop they lived above and walked in. The inside was decorated with all kinds of weird shit. There was no specific lighting source, just a bunch of random, probably thrifted lamps scattered across the shop, casting different shades of light across the floor. There was a bookshelf filled to the brim with books and magazines. Gigi swore she could see the Harry Potter series next to some old Playboy magazines. One wall was covered with vinyl records that had been painted over. Every record was different, painted by different Dutch artists. Gigi’s favorite was a sunset over the desert, a car driving past with a U-haul trailer attached. She knew this would become one of her favorite spots in Amsterdam.

Crystal, Gigi, and Michelle sat at a table while Jaida went up to buy two joints for them to split. She came back shortly, an excited grin on her face.

“Just a little nightcap ladies,” Jaida sang, and Gigi had to chuckle. At least she had Jaida. Jaida put the joint between her lips, lighting the end of it. Gigi watched the top burn away as Jaida deeply inhaled. As she blew out her smoke, Jaida gave Michelle a lazy grin and passed it to her next. Soon Crystal had the joint, taking a hit.

“Blow O’s!” Jaida cackled as Crystal obliged. Gigi fought back a smile. And then Crystal passed her the joint. It fit easily between Gigi’s fingers, but she was confused. All she saw was the back of Crystal’s head. It was turned, looking down at her phone. And then she realized. Crystal wouldn’t look at her. And all Gigi could think was, ‘What have we done to each other?’

Eventually, they finished passing the joints around and followed Jaida through a side door that led to their apartment building entrance. Gigi gave long hugs to Jaida and Michelle on the third-floor landing, not caring that they had blatantly lied to her about Crystal being there. It wasn’t worth it. And maybe this would end up being a good thing. She hoped to god it would.

Crystal didn’t say goodnight, just ran up the stairs and went into her apartment without a word. Gigi didn’t know how that made her feel. Relieved? At least she wouldn’t have to say an awkward goodnight to Crystal. Yes. This was good. No Crystal is a good thing. So why couldn’t Gigi stop thinking about her as she got ready for bed? Why couldn’t she stop replaying everything over and over in her head? Seeing Crystal for the first time since...

Gigi was supposed to be okay without Crystal. She thought she was. She had gotten better in L.A. It didn’t hurt every time she thought about Crystal, just more of a dull ache. Gigi had let herself let go, move on to a life without Crystal. And she was hoping that she could do the same thing in Amsterdam, despite seeing her every day. But it was only day one. And all she could think about was Crystal.

Crystal at the airport, Crystal in the car, Crystal walking along the canals, Crystal passing Gigi the joint, refusing to look at her. Her mind was all just... Crystal. And she just wanted to forget. But that was impossible. Crystal had found a way to burrow into the deepest depths of Gigi’s brain, refusing to leave. Did Gigi really want to let go?

How do you let go of someone when you’ve spent the last year desperately wanting them? When you’ve spent the last year replaying every moment together over and over in your head, wondering what you could’ve done differently, wondering where it all went wrong. How do you let go of someone when for so long, it was the last thing you wanted to do? How do you let go of someone when your heart is screaming at you, begging you not to, no matter how much you know you should?

As Gigi brushed her teeth, she heard Crystal opening her balcony door and stepping out onto it. She peaked out the window and saw her lighting a joint, sitting in one of the chairs. A year ago Gigi would’ve joined her on the balcony in a heartbeat, complaining that Crystal hadn’t invited her in the first place. Now Gigi was just utterly... confused. How do you let go of someone when she’s right there on your shared balcony, and all you want is to just be with her, no matter how much she might hate you?

‘Maybe I should call Hunter. He’ll stop me from doing anything stupid.’ But Hunter was worlds away, and couldn't really do anything to stop Gigi. A part of her knew this was coming. She knew she’d cave eventually and try to talk to Crystal. Why? Why did Crystal have so much power over her, still? And why was Gigi trying not to smile as she heard Crystal coughing outside? Even when things were so different, even though everything had changed, Gigi couldn’t help but admire Crystal, who was now just scrolling on her phone, lazily holding the joint between her fingers. Absolutely wasting bud, if Gigi may add.

Gigi’s feet started moving before her mind could scream at her to stop, going before she was ready. Her hand slowly went to the doorknob, just hovering there. Was it worth it? Was she going to throw it all away for Crystal? All the tears, all the talking, all the driving, the countless days where she forced herself to get out of bed, knowing she would forget about her someday? All the days where Gigi really had forgotten about her? When she felt like she could finally breathe again? Gigi felt that familiar burning in her chest. And she knew. There’s no way to let go of Crystal Methyd. Not when Gigi swore two summers ago she never would.

LAX

Gigi felt the knot forming in her stomach when she passed the sign that read “LAX 5 MILES AWAY.” Crystal had the same sad smile on her face as Gigi. It was really about to be all over. The summer of competing, crying, laughing, smoking, sneaking into each other's hotel rooms, lingering glances, and shy smiles. Why did it have to end like this? In Hunter’s Jeep, Rosy blasting “ Cruel Summer” by Taylor Swift, all the windows down, letting the music rumble through the speakers and through their chests. Crystal and Gigi’s shoulders pressed together even though there was plenty of room in the backseat.

Why did it have to end at all?

Hunter took the exit, and Gigi started to feel sick. Crystal was supposed to have one of the vans bring her to the airport, but couldn’t refuse a ride with Gigi, Hunter, and Rosy. And Gigi hoped that Crystal accepted the ride because she too, couldn’t stand saying goodbye just yet. Just yet.

It was bittersweet. Of course, Gigi was happy to go home and be with her friends and family, but she couldn’t shake the sense of dread ringing throughout her body.

“You want us to drop you off at the front, Crystal?” Hunter asked.

“I’m gonna go in with her,” Gigi blurted, knowing she couldn’t say goodbye... just yet. Crystal looked at Gigi, beaming. “I don’t think Crystal could drag five suitcases around an airport by herself.”

“Oh sure,” Crystal murmured, nudging Gigi slightly. Crystal didn’t notice Gigi blushing, but Hunter did, sending her a knowing look in the rear-view mirror. Hunter found a parking spot after about ten minutes of looking around.

“It was so nice meeting you, Crystal! I absolutely adore you my fellow Aries,” Rosy said, grabbing Crystal’s hand and giving it a parting squeeze. Gigi caught Hunter’s eye again.

“I’m sure we’ll talk soon, but it was really nice meeting you,” Hunter said.

“Thank you guys so much for giving me a ride, you’re literally the best,” Crystal said. And so she and Gigi dragged the suitcases out of the Jeep before walking into the airport together. It was packed with a lot of people going home after spending their summers in LA. Gigi didn’t dare look at Crystal, scared she would see right through the brave face Gigi was trying to maintain despite the tears threatening to fall. Gigi watched from a distance as Crystal checked in and got her ticket, breathing slightly shallow. She knew what was coming next, she wasn’t stupid, this was always inevitable.

“All checked in!” Crystal tried to sound her usual cheery self, but Gigi could hear the sadness in the back of her voice.

“So this is it...” Gigi said, looking anywhere but Crystal. Crystal grabbed Gigi’s hand.

“I’ll see you soon. I promise,” Crystal said, voice cracking slightly. Gigi chuckled, tears stinging her eyes.

“Don’t cry cause I’ll start crying,” Gigi said, blinking back her tears.

“Geege...” Crystal put her hand on Gigi’s face, her thumb gliding across Gigi’s face. Chills ran down her body.

‘don't go, don't go, don't go’

“You have to go, you have a flight to catch,” Gigi said, composing herself quickly.

“I know, I just-”

“I know.” Gigi looked Crystal in the eye, who had tears streaming down her face. “Believe me, I know.” Crystal threw her arms around Gigi, and Gigi held on. She held on so tight her chest felt hollow. It was inevitable. There was nothing Gigi could say to make Crystal stay, she knew that. But that didn’t stop her from trying.

“You could just stay for the weekend, you know?” Gigi said into the hug. Crystal hugged Gigi tighter.

“I can’t, I gotta get back home to Paul and Tictak,” Crystal whispered.

“Paul?” Gigi asked, though the pessimist in her already knew the answer.

“My boyfriend,” Crystal said. The knot in Gigi’s stomach burst, now feeling empty and gutted, utterly hollow. Of course. Gigi pulled out of the hug.

“Oh. Well, um-”

“He’s just very um- private. He asked me not to talk about him on the show... And then it... just never came up I guess,” Crystal said, sounding slightly guilty. Crystal shouldn’t feel guilty, she owed Gigi nothing. Gigi knew that. She kept repeating it.

“No, I get it. I just uhm-”

“Shit, I’m sorry I got to go through security or I’m gonna miss my flight. I hate goodbyes. I hate that this is happening-”

“It’s okay, Crystal,” Gigi gave Crystal’s hand a final squeeze. “We’re gonna see each other soon, remember?” Gigi said. Crystal’s lip was trembling, she nodded quickly.

“Yeah. I’ll see you soon,” Crystal said. And that was it. Crystal walked away. Gigi couldn’t bear to watch as the person who completely captivated her left to go be with someone else. And Gigi just hoped she could smile long enough, just until Crystal turned back over her shoulder, finally ripping her gaze from Gigi. She waited, a painful smile on her face that made her cheeks ache, waving Crystal goodbye. Goodbye, for now.

Alas, Gigi didn’t bother wiping the tears streaming down her cheeks as she walked back to Hunter’s Jeep.

“Hey!- oh god she’s crying,” Rosy said, getting out of the car to wrap Gigi in a hug. She immediately started crying in Rosy’s arms. Hunter stood, a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“You really like Crystal, don’t you?” he asked gently, which made Gigi hurt even more. She tried to answer, tried to form a sentence, tried to say it’s just a crush or we’re just really good friends but she couldn’t admit that, not yet, so instead she said.

“She has a fucking boyfriend.”

And as Gigi stood in the middle of the LAX parking garage crying in Rosy’s arms, she only thought one thing. ‘I will not let go of you, Crystal Methyd. I will not let go.’

Amsterdam

Gigi’s hand landed on the doorknob, and she knew Crystal heard it. ‘Go before you’re ready bitch,’ She turned the doorknob, and felt the warm summer air on her face. And there Crystal was, looking up at Gigi with a dumbfounded expression. “Hi,” Gigi said softly, smiling at Crystal. She watched her visibly relax, returning the smile.

“Hello,” Crystal grinned, putting down her phone.

“We should probably talk about... everything.”

#gigi goode #Crystal Methyd #crystal methyd x gigi goode #crygi #crygimethydgoode #fanfic #fanfic rec #drag queen fanfic #crygi fanfic #Lover’s Fantasia #please read this we promise you’ll love it

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talkfastromance4 · 4 years

Text

I Will Wait for You--Michael Clifford (Running Back to You Part 2 wwii au)

Here’s part 2! So sorry it took so long to post, I started writing it but then changed the dynamic halfway through so this would be Michael’s point of view. I can do a final part in Luke’s perspective and to wrap it up, so please let me know! :)

A/N: “lovie” is reader from Running back to you:)

Running Back to You

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: slight trauma from nightmares, not too major, implied smut

Masterlist

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. *copyright is listed below*

• • • •

Michael jerked awake. A choked gasp escaped his lips as he took in his surroundings, he could still hear the echo of the bomb that went off in his subconscious, leaving his ears ringing. He blinks as hard as he can, recognizing the shadows of his new apartment he rents then panics when he can’t see through his left eye.

The memories come fast as flashes. The grenade that sent him flying from Luke. Flash. Immense pain that soon disappeared on the left side of his face. Flash. The doctor telling him his eye is gone. Flash. Staring at his reflection in the mirror for hours trying to adjust to the bare, sunken in skin where his eye used to be. Flash. Being half in the light and half in the dark for the rest of his life.

He’s thankful he just lost the eye, he’s thankful every day that he’s still alive but it’s taking him a lot longer to adjust than he thought. Swinging his legs over the edge of his bed, he snatches up his eye patch and slips it over his head. He presses down on the edges making sure it’s secure before pushing off the bed and pushes the curtains open.

It’s almost dawn, the burning orange and brilliant pink sky greet him in good morning over the waves of the ocean. Michael cranes his neck to the right and he can just see Luke’s new house. Guilt creeps up Michael’s neck, he hasn’t spoken to Luke in three weeks. He felt embarrassed to see him and confront him with the truth after they left the train station.

After meeting his girl and new daughter, Michael was desperate to see his own dame, Peg. After assuring Luke that Michael would be fine getting to her house on his own, he was filled with nerves once more. Still in his uniform, Michael stepped heavily on her front porch steps then knocked twice and rang the doorbell.

He twiddled the brim of his hat, breath shaking as he waited for the door to open. There’s a commotion behind it, then he’s looking at Peg. Her golden hair pinned up with a barrette made of pearls, she’s prettier than he remembered. Her eyes widened as she took him in, Michael noticed her gaze linger on his eye patch.

“Hi Peg,” he sighed unsteadily, still twisting his hat, “I’m sorry I didn’t get to write. After the liberation and between my surgery I didn’t have time to write to you.”

“That’s…that’s okay, Michael,” she said quietly still staring at his patch.

“I know it’s a lot to get used to, I’m still getting used to it myself,” he chuckled touching the protruding fabric. “But the rest of me is still here, I’m home. Don’t I deserve a hug?” he was half joking the last bit but after witnessing Luke and his girl embrace so tightly back at the station, it left him in uneasiness that Peg didn’t react the same way.

“Oh…yes,” she said then wrapped him in a loose hug.

Michael could only get a small whiff of her lilac soap before she pulled away too quickly. Something was wrong. Has she already decided not to love him anymore because of his eye?

“I’m sorry—”

“Who’s at the door darling? Dinner’s getting—oh, hello,” a man appeared behind Peg. Tall as Michael but with slicked back black hair and a crisp suit.

Michael understood everything. Why Peg seemed so uncomfortable, why she didn’t jump into his arms like Luke’s girl did. She’d already moved on and left Michael none the wiser.

“I’m Chip, who are you sir? Thank you for your service,” Chip held out his hand, but Michael didn’t take it.

“Why don’t you tell him who I am, Peg?” Michael said in a clipped voice.

“Chip this is Michael, he’s my—he was my—”

“We were seeing each other,” Michael added in, his anger rising over the hurt he was trying to push down. “Clearly I didn’t get the memo it’s over while I was halfway across the world.”

“I thought you were dead,” Peg tried to reason, her eyes filled with tears. Chip stood there awkwardly during the exchange.

“Couldn’t wait to get actual word before you found someone to cure your broken heart?” Michael shook his head and turned from the door. He ignored Peg’s voice begging for him to come back, to let her explain but Michael kept walking.

He’d wanted to go to Luke but after witnessing his perfect reunion with his girl and new baby Alice, Michael felt ashamed. He felt subpar compared to what Luke had and it gnawed at him in the worst way. He read the letters Luke sent but didn’t reply to them. The guilt pressed on, but his nightmares pressed harder.

Michael changed quickly into dark slacks and a buttoned shirt; suddenly his apartment became too suffocating. He walked along the street, breathing in the fresh ocean air until he stopped at The Comfort Diner, his new favorite spot.

He’s thankful for it because it opens early and doesn’t close until extremely late in the evening. So, whenever he can’t sleep because of the nightmares, he finds himself in one of the red chairs at the swirling counter and orders the same thing. A strawberry milkshake and a burger with fries.

One of the waitresses, Cherry, always took his order with a kind smile. He likes Cherry because she never gawked at his eye patch but treated him like any other customer. Michael told her what happened with Peg and she offered her apologies and even called Peg some very rude names for what she did.

She’s also incredibly beautiful.

Michael is shocked and frozen in the entrance when he spots Luke sitting at Michael’s usual place. There’s already food in front of him, and Cherry stands nearby with a book propped open next to the register.

“Hi Michael,” Cherry greets cheerily. She bookmarks her place then skips to where Luke is sitting. “Your buddy here said you’d show up this morning, and he’s right. Can I get ya a coffee?”

Michael’s eye darts between Cherry and Luke, who is also staring back at Michael. His expression is unreadable as Michael shuffles to his chair. He sits down heavily then nods to Cherry. When she disappears behind the kitchen door, Michael glances at Luke.

“I’ve been waiting here since half past four,” Luke says, his finger circling the rim of his own coffee mug. “Cherry and I got to talking because my nightmares leave me awake and she said a fellow soldier frequents here with the same type of nightmares. Funny how it’s my best friend who lives just a few minutes from here and a few blocks from me.”

“Luke, I’m sorry. I—”

“Why didn’t you tell me what happened with Peg?” Luke cuts him off, his eyes piercing Michael’s green. “We fought the same war; we see the same nightmares and we could have helped each other all this time. Lovie told me to give you space, let you cope but after two weeks I didn’t know if I’d see you again.”

“I felt embarrassed,” Michael confesses. “You have the picture-perfect life and I’m damaged and loveless. I didn’t want you to see me as weak.”

Luke rolls his eyes. “You aren’t weak at all, Mike. Don’t disappear on me again, yeah?”

Michael nods and accepts Luke’s pat on the back just as Cherry bristles out with a steaming mug of coffee.

“Milk and sugar’s already in there for ya,” she smiles.

“Thanks Cherry,” Michael sighs and accepts the hot liquid. It helps ease his tangled thoughts; it quiets the buzzing.

Luke watches her skip back to her place at the register, opening her book once more then squints his eyes at Michael.

“What?”

“Cherry’s quite the dish and she clearly thinks you’re good looking as well. Ask her on a date.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why not? Are you still hung up on Peg? What she did was horrible, you don’t deserve that, and she doesn’t deserve you feeling this way.”

“What nightmares do you see?” Michael asks taking a sip of his coffee while also trying to deter the topic of conversation.

“Everything. The bombs, the towns…that officer’s family,” Luke finishes hollowly. “I wake in a cold sweat every night.”

“I see them too. But I mainly relive the bombs, and when I wake up, I forget my eye is gone. I have to process that loss all over again…do you wake lovie up?”

“Sometimes, but that’s when I’m…screaming,” Luke gulps. “I forget where I am sometimes but when I hear her voice…I know I’m safe.”

“I’m glad she’s your safe space, Luke. And I’m sorry for disappearing, I promise I won’t do that again. Solitude is worse than I thought.”

“It’s the beast in you, yeah?” Luke grins and they’re back to normal. “Come out with me and lovie tonight. There’s a dance club near the boardwalk that always lingers to the beach.”

“I’m not much of a dancer,” Michael shakes his head.

“Neither am I. Hey Cherry, do you like to dance?” Luke calls over. Michael is horrified but Cherry is radiant.

“Sure, I do!”

“Meet us at the Nostalgic Club say about eight o’clock?”

When Luke and lovie came to retrieve Michael for a night of dancing, Luke made him change into his uniform. Apparently, it was a special night for those who served, a welcome back home soirée.

“Cherry’s one lucky lady,” lovie smiles at Michael when he comes out in his uniform.

The nightclub is already hopping when the three arrive. A jazz band plays loudly and exuberantly onstage while couples are jiving and flipping over each other with the music. There are indeed a lot of men in uniform, and a few ladies as well. The atmosphere is buzzing, and Michael lands his eye on Cherry who’s wearing a pearlescent dress, her hair pinned exquisitely atop her head. She’s breathtaking.

The group cross the dancefloor to a smiling Cherry and Michael feels self-conscious. How is he supposed to dance with her looking like a vision? He’s surprised he didn’t trip over his feet already.

The girls are introduced and soon they all have drinks in their hand, feet tapping to the music. It’s not long after that lovie pulls Luke to the dancefloor, the pair stepping in time with the other couples easily. Michael and Cherry exchange nervous smiles.

“You’re not a dancer, are you?” Cherry asks kindly.

“Not the fast-paced kind, no,” Michael chuckles watching her sip her kiddie cocktail.

“Do you want to head out to the beach? It’s a little stuffy in here,” Cherry scrunches her nose up in an adorable way.

Michael is quick to agree, leading her outside with his hand on the small of her back. Once they reach the beach, they sit on the cemented steps along the perimeter of the sand. Michael sets his hat next to him and Cherry sits a little close, he can smell her perfume. It’s floral and fruity, almost like strawberries.

They sit in silence watching the waves crash upon the shore, the moonlight glittering the spray. The music can still be heard along with laughter and chatter. It’s a comfortable sort of silence.

“Michael?”

“Hm?”

“What happened to your eye? I know I’m prying, but I’ve heard talking about it helps and I’m willing to listen. If you’d like to, that is.”

He looks at her with his good eye, he desperately wishes he could see her without the feeling of being half in darkness. He can tell she’s genuine in her questioning.

“It was a grenade,” he starts quietly, “we were walking in the street of a small town. I have no idea where it came from. All I remember is being flung away from Luke and everything went black. When I came to, everything was…red and black and blurry. My ears were ringing but Luke was talking to me…I think I was running on adrenaline. Sometimes it feels like it’s still there.”

Cherry grabs his hand, lacing their fingers together.

“That’s what my nightmares are about. In my dreams I can still see, then the bomb goes off and I’m back in this weird…dark and light space.”

“How often do you dream of that?”

“Nearly every night,” he sighs, he gives her hand an involuntary squeeze.

They’re silent once more, Michael hopes he hasn’t scared her off. They listen to the big band play, more swing music and then it switches to a softer ballad, one that Michael likes. The familiar trumpet croons into the late summer night, and the lead singer’s voice starts the rendition of Harry James’ ‘It’s Been a Long, Long Time.’ Michael stands to his feet, pulling Cherry up with him.

“This, I can dance to,” he smiles. She returns his smile and fits into the curve of his arms perfectly. They sway in the sand and Michael starts to sing softly in her ear, “it’s been a long, long time haven’t felt like this, my dear since I can’t remember when…”

“You have a lovely voice,” Cherry sighs and hums along with his singing.

The song comes to a close, Michael stares down at Cherry as she stares back at him.

Kiss me once

He leans down and gives her the faintest kiss.

Then kiss me twice

He pulls back and looks at her once more, she gives him a gentle nod, so he kisses her twice.

Then kiss me once again

It’s only a fraction of a second that he pulls back before he presses his lips to hers for good. They kiss and dance under the moonlight until Luke and lovie find them.

It’s their twelfth date and it’s ended at Michael’s apartment, the record player playing their song as they kiss silently on his couch. Their fingers worked on buttons then Michael hoisted her onto his lap, his fingers slipping beneath the skirt of her dress. Cherry’s fingers scratched up his sideburns and into his hair. When she meets with the strap of his eye patch he freezes.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she pants removing her hand quickly.

“No, it’s—it’s okay,” he swallows harshly, his green eye focused on her. “Do you…do you want to see what it looks like? It usually starts to hurt around this time, the fabric digs into my skin.”

“Only if you’re comfortable,” she nods leaning back.

Michael lifts his arms and removes the strap from behind his head, then lifts the patch off his face. The skin is sunken in and folded over a little in the center, but the circumference is smooth. Cherry lifts her fingers then pauses midair, eyes shifting to Michael who nods giving her permission. She touches the skin delicately.

It’s plush yet tough at the same time, Michael sighs at her caress.

“What do you think?” he asks.

Cherry looks into his eye then cradles his face in her hands.

“You’re the handsomest soldier I’ve ever seen,” she smiles then attaches her lips to his.

Being vulnerable in front of Cherry filled Michael with a new form of confidence. Soon, both were bare in the most intimate way, their bodies joining as one. Fingers locking and unlocking as pleasure rippled through them. They declared their love at the same time and when the moment of euphoria passed, Cherry kissed the space of skin.

“The beauty fell in love with the beast,” he whispers on her neck and her giggles drift into the night.

• • • •

Copyright talkfastromance4 © All works is intellectual property of the author. All rights reserved. Any redistribution or reproduction or any part or all contents in any form is prohibited. You may not, without written expression and consent from the author, distribute works amongst other social media platforms

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#michael clifford oneshot #michael clifford angst #michael clifford fluff #michael angst #michael fluff #michael 5sos #michael 5sos writing #michael writing #michael clifford #michael clifford au #5sos au #wwii au #luke hemmings #luke hemmings writing #luke 5sos writing

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thominho-incorrectquotes · 3 years

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I need you, always

This is my entry for Thominho Week 2020, Day 7 “Soulmate AU”

Characters: Thomas x Minho

2129 words

Tags: Canon compliant, post canon, Soulmate AU, fluff

Summary: Thomas never felt worst. Not even when he went against his own promise and told Minho what he did to Newt. Not even when he pulled the trigger… Okay, maybe not as much, but he was still feeling bad. Really bad.

Note: I'm so sorry, I was supposed to post this 2 days ago, but I got busy again. Also, this fic is kinda part 2 of this fic.

You can also read it on AO3 and ff.net

________________________________

Thomas never felt worst. Not even when he went against his own promise and told Minho what he did to Newt. Not even when he pulled the trigger… Okay, maybe not as much, but he was still feeling bad. Really bad.

He was sad, irritated and he had the feeling that his heart was missing, like it had been ripped out of his chest. And he didn’t understand why or where it came from.

Everything was fine in the Safe Haven. People were doing well. It was a peaceful life. So why did Thomas felt so bad?

He was seating by the beach, like he always did with Minho when they were done with their tasks for the day. When they arrived to the Safe Haven, the other immunes somehow wanted the two of them to be part of the small leader group. They said that they trusted them ever since they guided them out of the Maze and brought them there. Everyone had agree, even Gally. Given that Minho had a natural authority and Thomas was quite diplomatic, they worked well together. Of course, older immunes were also part of this team of leaders, like Jorge.

Right now, Minho was away with a small group of immunes for an exploration trip of few days. Thomas had wanted to go, but since he was one of the leaders, he had to stay. Now, the cabin he shared with the Asian felt empty. Lunch time felt dull, his best friend was not there to crack a joke. And he was alone to go to the beach. Thomas really missed the older boy. He had been gone for only few days and was supposed to be back soon, but he still missed him.

Lost in thoughts, he didn’t realized that Gally came and sat beside him. Turning to the taller boy, a bit irritated because it was his and Minho’s spot, but he still greeted him. It was weird to admit, but Gally became quite a good friend over time.

“How are you?” the blond asked.

“Fine.”

“Don’t lie to me Greenie.”

Thomas hated that nickname. But coming from Gally, it kind of felt nostalgic, so he never said anything when he called him that.

“You clearly aren’t yourself right now” he continued. “Not that you smile much anyway, but nowadays you’re just… depress.”

The brunet didn’t reply and instead stared at the ocean, a view he couldn’t never be tired of. What could he have said anyway? He knew that he hasn’t been the loveliest person lately.

“You miss him, don’t you?” It was more of a statement than a question. And Thomas knew exactly who Gally was referring to.

“How’d you know?”

“It’s pretty obvious shank” he laughed. “You two are always together.”

Thomas stayed silent. Once again, Gally was right, he just couldn’t go and deny it.

“You know, I have this theory...” the Builder began. “When I was in Denver, I heard something pretty interesting.”

“And what could it be” Thomas asked in a tone that indicated that he didn’t really care.

“It’s about soulmates.”

“Soulmates?” That was intriguing.

“Yeah, soulmates.” Gally was grinning, which did nothing good to his disfigured face. “Apparently, soulmates were a thing back then. It’s now more of a legend, because of the Flare and the many deaths it caused. But anyway, it says that people are bound to meet someone at some point in their lives and form a strong bond with them that will never break. It can be anyone. A friend, a sibling, a partner… Anyone.” Thomas was confused. “Why are you telling me all that?”

“I think you and Minho are soulmates” Gally answered.

A bomb was dropped. The brunet stood up in shock. He couldn’t believe his friend just said that.

“W-what? Have you lost your mind?!” he almost yelled.

“Let me explain” Gally sighed. He should have anticipated this reaction. “The thing is; from the moment the soulmates meet, they can’t be away from each other for too long or else they’ll start to feel miserable, lonely and depress. It apparently feels like your heart is not there anymore. Tell me it isn’t how you’re feeling right now.”

Thomas was speechless. He let himself he let himself fall back on the sand stunned. The taller boy was looking at him, deadpanned.

“But…” he tried, but was unable to form a sentence.

“Listen” Gally continued. “Back in the Glade, Minho had never really been close to someone. He was often alone, until you came. Sure, he got along with Newt and some other Gladers, but close? Like how close you two are? Never.”

Thomas was surprised to hear that. His best friend was such an amazing person in his mind, he just assumed that he could attract and befriend anyone. He was funny, smart, strong… and quite attractive.

But then he thought back of that night in the Pit, where the Asian boy told him that Thomas was the only one who could understand him. He remembered that connection he felt with the Keeper at that moment. They had slept together that night. It had felt so good to finally have someone he could count on.

He remembered how he felt when he got reunited with Minho after they had been apart during the trials. He remembered the joy and relief he felt. He remembered how having the older boy in his arms felt, how happy he felt to know that he was alive.

Okay, maybe Gally wasn’t that wrong.

“Is it real? This whole soulmate thing?” he asked.

“I don’t know, but if it is, I’m pretty sure that you and Minho are soulmates” Gally replied with a shrug. “And thinking about it, I think Alby and Newt also were soulmates. They were both so close.”

Thomas didn’t want to think about Newt. It still hurt so much, even after telling Minho. But he admitted that after Alby’s death, the blond boy never was the same.

“Okay, and what do I do with this new information?”

“That’s your problem” Gally mocked him. “It was just tiring seeing you so depress, I thought it could help you if you understood why you’re feeling like that.”

“Wow, thanks Gally, I never thought you could be so considerate” Thomas replied sarcastically.

“Minho’s really rubbing on you” the boy snickered. “You two are really made for each other.”

At that, the brunet blushed, but turned his head, not wanting the other to see his red face.

“You know that he still haven’t forgave me?” Gally informed.

“Forgive you for what?”

“For trying to kill you. For wanting to kill you.”

“Nonsense, he did” Thomas scoffed.

“No he hasn’t. He hates my guts. I can barely talk to the guy.”

“What? Really?”

“Yeah.” Gally grinned. “He really cares about you, you know? Never saw someone so protective…”

A million thoughts were running in Thomas’s mind. He was analyzing every moment, every details of his relationship with Minho. Every times the Keeper had been there to make sure he was safe. Every time he saved him.

He also came to the realization that ever since they first met, back in the Glade, he has wanted to be around the Keeper. His weird desire to become a runner must had come from that. At least, a part of it. He liked to be with the boy, having him all for himself. Their alone moments on the beach or on their cabins were times Thomas enjoyed the most.

His best friend was the most important person in his life. He knew that. But Gally just came and shook all his believes. Was it really more than that?

“Anyway, I have things to do” the Builder said as he stood up, shaking the sand that had gotten on him. “Have a nice evening.”

“You too…”

And like that, Gally left Thomas to his own thoughts.

***

Two days had passed. Thomas was doing his usual tour, helping some people and making sure everything in the Safe Haven was doing well, when he heard someone yelling that the exploration team was back.

He never ran faster. And he had run a lot in his life!

He just needed to see Minho.

Over the past days, his discussion with Gally had kept him awake at night. He just couldn’t stop thinking about it. Was Minho really his soulmate?

However, right now, he just wanted to see him. He had missed Minho so much.

When he finally saw the massive built and perfect raven hair of this best friend, he stopped breathing. He was there.

Without having the time to process anything, his body rushed towards Minho. He almost knocked him over by hugging him as if his life depended on it. Immediately, he felt better. The hole in his chest was gone. The sadness he carried with him also disappeared. He just… he really had missed him so much.

Minho was also holding him tight, nuzzling into Thomas’s neck. He couldn’t let go of him. At some point, they ended up on the ground, still holding each other. The world around them was a blur. The only thing that mattered was finally being together.

They stayed like that, silent, for what felt like hours. It just felt so good.

“Oh damn” Minho finally said, letting out a breath he was holding. “I’m never going away without you again.”

He feels the same Thomas thought. He feels the same!

It was clear now. He loved Minho. He was in love with him. And they were soulmates, there was no denying anymore.

“Yeah, you better” he replied, his voice muffled by Minho’s neck.

“Come help us lover boys” said Frypan who came to help unpack. “You’ll have plenty of time to make out later.”

Both boys blushed.

“We weren’t-“

“Yeah, but you were about to. Now help us!”

They reluctantly separated, slightly embarrassed. But they were happy to have each other again.

***

They went to their cabin not much later and as Minho was untying his shoes and went to lay on his bed, Thomas couldn’t help the warm feeling he felt over seeing his best friend back home. He realized that without him in their cabin, it haven’t felt like a home at all. It had been cold and empty. Now, it was warm and lively.

Once he got rid of his shoes, he saw Minho with arms open on his bed. Thomas immediately latched onto him. He missed their cuddling session too. He laid his head on the Keeper’s chest, his arms wrapped around his torso.

“Don’t ever leave me again. No for so long, it felt horrible” Thomas mumbled, drowning in all the feelings he felt about finally having his friend back.

“I promise.”

Minho was running his hand in the soft brown hair, making the boy almost purr. It wasn’t something abnormal for them to be like that. Ever since that night in the Pit, physical touch was a regular occurrence for them.

But something was bothering the brunet. He needed to tell him.

“You know…” Thomas began, breaking the silence. “Gally told me something weird.”

“And what is it?” The Asian had almost growled. Okay, so he really hated Gally…

“Well, it’s about soulmates…”

He then repeated what the Builder had told him. Every details. Minho was listening quietly, stroking the younger boy’s face with his thumb. He could feel the nervousness in Thomas voice.

When the Runner finished, his heart was beating faster than usual. There was still a slight chance that the older boy didn’t feel the same and doubted there were soulmates.

“That explains a lot” Minho however stated, to Thomas’s relief. “It was a bit weird for me, getting so attached to you, even after what you did for me back in the Maze. I guess it was why.”

“Yeah… it explains a lot…”

“Well… I’m happy my soulmate is the person I love.” It was said as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Like something Thomas should have known for a long time.

“W-wait what?”

“What?”

“Y-you love m-me?”

Minho stared at him deadpanned.

“Yes, you dumb shank.”

“No… as in… in love with me?”

“Yes, you dumb shank” he repeated. “Really, after all this time you didn’t figure it out? I thought you were supposed to be bright.”

“But…”

“No, you’re dumb, just admit it” Minho laughed.

Thomas chuckled along. He never felt so happy. He was filled with joy that his feelings were reciprocated. He climbed on top of the other boy and grinned at him.

“Okay, I’m an idiot.” The Asian shook his head in agreement. “But I guess I’m your idiot.”

“Of course you are… Now come down and kiss me.”

___________________________

I hope you enjoyed this!

I personally really enjoyed this challenge! It had been a while since I wrote something in english, so just for that it was pretty challenging, but writing a fic everyday, coming up with ideas and just writing about my favorite ship was just really the best!

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emphasis-all-mine · 4 years

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hi mem!! a few months ago i read your fic--the one where james griffin couldn't help his parents falling in love--and i fell in love with it. it makes me unbearably happy in this nostalgic, melancholy way. just absolutely beautiful. now, im starting to write my very first fic--an adam-centric adashi piece--and i'm wondering if you have any tips for a first-time fic writer? plot tips? characterization tips? background music tips? coffee tips? anything you have, i'll take. thank you so much!! ily

Thank you!! Somewhere A Clock is Ticking is one of my fave things I've ever written and I legit cried during both the writing and editing process of that story so it makes me so glad you enjoyed it!

I'm really excited for this fic! I think Adam is such a good character to start with if you're working on your first because we know very little of his canon persona–and that means you get to unleash all your creativity to flesh him out. He can be from any background, speak any language, have little or a lot of family, etc. I love getting to create an Adam-sona anytime I write him in. Sometimes he's a calming partner, a stubborn and stern teacher, or a wine-uncle fun idea machine.

I have a LOT OF TIPS but I'll try to keep this to the point because really I could ramble for days on this subject so feel free to message me or hmu again for any follow up:

Write a story that you would want to read. I know this seems obvious but the easiest things for me to write are when I think "I want to read THIS in a fic and it's so specific that I will just go ahead and make it for myself and not care if anyone else likes it." Write for your own enjoyment, first and foremost.

Make a soundtrack first. I can only speak for myself but when I set up a story I also set up a playlist in my head and I write while listening to it. Sometimes I think of it like a movie soundtrack and different songs belong to different sections. IDK it helps me when I have to switch tone or POV or write a lot of action without dialogue? I sometimes do use those relaxing beats to study to soundtracks/streams, if that helps? I say try to avoid podcasts bc they can muss up your concentration with dialogue but to each their own. Hit shuffle and keep an eye (ear?) on what music works best for you!

Give your character a weird quirk or a strange habit or a funny story their parent/bff/sibling can tell from their childhood. Some of my personal favorite headcanons are: Keith loves Dolly Parton, Lance attempted to eat a jellyfish off the beach as a child, Allura puts milk in before tea, Shiro has a secret terrible sense of humor and can't hold his liquor, etc. You can even make one up, the more specific the better. Right now I'm poking around with a story idea involving Lance being really into limericks.

You are going to project at some point, and that is so okay. Put a story in about character A and character B doing a silly thing you and your friend/cousin/whoever did when you were a kid. Make that quirk be something you do (like maybe you're a 30-something college graduate that still lisps and stutters when she tries to say the word 'specific' haha what? Who?) But seriously, stories that have a grounding in reality help the reader suspend disbelief especially if you're working with a fantasy/scif-fi canon or AU. Writing Adam as a time-traveling were-panther? Make him that, but he's also super-into Magic: The Gathering and he teaches all his fellow time-traveling were-cats how to play and now they all kick his ass and he sometimes regrets it. It gives your reader a way to relate to your character and they'll be more willing to suspend disbelief for zany hijinks or they won't see someone that's too perfect or too invincible.

Your audience can infer more than you realize, so don't be afraid to not tell them if something is funny or sad or beautiful. Just write what it is and let them make their conclusions. Tell them that the first kiss between two characters was messy and wet and someone bit the other's lip but then they rest their foreheads together and laugh and just breathe, hands intertwining. You don't have to say 'they did so romantically', because if you describe a thing that you think is sweet or funny or romantic in an honest way, it reads through.

To quote the Beastie Boys, I like my sugar with coffee and cream? But yeah, always good to have prepared some writing snacks and beverages and take breaks!

Hope this helps! Good luck!!

#em answers #anonymous #writing stuff #writing advice

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gracewithducks · 4 years

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Strange Traditions (A Christmas Eve Sermon)

There is a man in Ohio who creates artwork out of chewing gum; he shapes gum in tiny little sculptures… using nothing but his mouth.[1] There’s a couple in Tokyo who recently went viral for posting pictures of their cats, which isn’t too unusual, except that the cats are wearing hats – bunny ears and crowns, Viking helmets and wigs – all kinds of hats made from the hair those cats shed around the house.[2]

And I’ve realized we all have weird things we do, things that make no sense, that others find strange or even a waste of time… but it brings us joy, so we do it, even if they don’t understand.

Some of us dress up like Star Trek characters. Some of us study the Elvish language of the Lord of the Rings. Some of us love to bake cookies and cakes, even when everyone we know is on a diet. Some of us read the same books over and over again. Some people make works of art out of beach sand and sidewalk chalk, even knowing it’s all going to wash away. Some people train for marathons, or jump out of airplanes, or collect stamps or build ships in bottles.

As for me, I knit stockings.

On its surface, not that strange. It all started innocently enough: my grandmother always knit stockings for our whole family: generations of stockings, each one unique, each one knit with love. And we love those stockings. As a kid, opening our stockings on Christmas Day was almost more exciting than opening the presents under the tree. Under the tree you’d get the usual pajamas and socks and, if you’re really lucky, that one thing we’d hoped and wished for all year. But the stockings were a free-for-all of surprises: candies and hairbows, puzzles we didn’t know existed, books we didn’t know we wanted to read, games and puzzles and funny little toys that sometimes were more fun than the big ones under the tree.

Stockings are an important part of our Christmas traditions. But when I was starting my own family, my grandma let me know that, because of the tremors in her hands, she couldn’t knit anymore. It was heartbreaking for her, but it was also nerve-wracking for me – because as the only other knitter in the family, the job of making stockings was handed down to me.

And when I say that I knew how to knit, I mean that my grandma – the same grandma – had taught me how to knit a potholder when I was about twelve years old. I don’t think I even ever learned to purl, just to knit – straight knit – the end.

But my grandma handed down her knitting needles and yarn, and I resolved to do the best I could.

I started working on my daughter’s stocking, the first stocking I’d ever made. And because I wasn’t so smart, I didn’t start working on the stocking until after she was born – which was about two months before her first Christmas. I still remember frantically knitting whenever anyone came to visit and offered to hold the baby; I remember wearing my daughter strapped in a Baby Bjorn and dancing around the living room, trying to keep her happy, while I knitted behind her back.

Somehow, I finished that stocking. And the even bigger wonder is that it actually looks like it belongs. It’s not perfect, but none of them are; they’re all made with love anyway.

When my husband and I found out we were expecting again, I knew I needed to plan another stocking. But because I’d only made one stocking before, I wanted to practice, to try following my notes and see if I could do it again. So I decided that, as a joke, I’d surprise my husband by making a stocking – not for a family member, but for Doctor Who. And if you don’t know who Doctor Who is, that’s okay; he’s a character in a British sci-fi show, and Doctor Who always has a Christmas special – a Christmas special which actually airs on the BBC on Christmas Day.

Since the Doctor always shows up for Christmas, then, I decided to make him his own stocking, with a picture of his time machine on it. And from that one stocking, a new tradition was born.

Yes, I made stockings for all of my children. But I’ve made many more than that. Every Christmas, I surprise my husband with another silly stocking for his collection, a stocking based on something he loves. We have Iron Man and Captain America; we have Harry Potter and Thing 1 from Doctor Seuss; we have a stocking for Despicable Me’s Gru, and for the Staypuft Marshmallow Man, and even Mickey Mouse.

Along the stairway to our house is a wall of stockings. My husband isn’t surprised to get a new stocking each year; he looks forward to them – and that year’s design is always a secret – and I so much love the planning, creating, and surprising him.

It’s a strange tradition, I know. Whenever I explain it, I always get some funny looks. People always want to know if I make my whole family new stockings every year (I don’t) or whether my husband gets presents in all those stockings – (he doesn’t).

Even my own extended family is confused. Earlier this year, my brother was over to visit, and he gazed up at our stocking collection, looked at me, and said, “You know, there are – other – things you can make, right?”

Of course I do. I make other things. I love making things. But I really, truly find joy and delight in making those novelty Christmas stockings – even if no one else gets it. I love our strange little tradition. It doesn’t have to make sense. It doesn’t have to follow the rules.

Sometimes I imagine – and to be clear, this isn’t in the bible; it’s my own imagination – but sometimes I imagine that, when God was creating humans, when God had the idea to create these free but flawed beings who would live in God’s creation – I imagine an angel walking up, looking at what God was making, and saying, “Are you sure that’s what you want to make? It looks messy, and loud, and it’s probably just going to break all your stuff.”

And when God nods, and the angel wrinkles his nose and says, “You know – there are other things you can make, right?”

And God’s like, “I know. I’ve made other things. I enjoy making other things. But these are different; each one is different, unique, and I delight in planning and creating each one – and maybe they’re messy, and maybe it doesn’t make sense… but love doesn’t have to make sense.”

And when God was planning to come down at Christmas, to get down and play with those unlikely and perplexing creations, to shrink to our size and play by our rules, so that we might see God’s love even more – when God said, “This is my idea: I’ll go down there as a baby” – I imagine that same angel wanders by and says, “Really? That’s your plan? Haven’t you learned anything?”

And God says, “It doesn’t have to make sense. Love doesn’t make sense. But it brings me joy. And that’s enough.

This is the lesson of Christmas: that God’s love for us doesn’t make sense – but God loves us anyway. God loves us too much to stay away, but God loves us enough to come down to our level, to squeeze infinity into an infant, to subject God’s self to cold, to poverty, to grief and hunger and pain – so that when we go through suffering, we know we are not alone.

God loves us enough to do the unusual, the bizarre, the impossible: to come and be with us.

And it doesn’t make sense. But some of the most important things we do in life don’t make any kind of sense: like telling your family to split the last pieces of pie when there isn’t enough to go around, and you tell them you didn’t feel like pie tonight anyway; or a grown adult getting down on the floor to play Legos or Barbies, or folding yourself down to fit on a playground slide; it’s driving for hours just so you can have dinner with your family, or giving a few dollars to the stranger at the side of the road, or inviting a stray animal to share your home and be your family; it’s sitting with someone who’s sick, even if they don’t know you’re there; telling your mother-in-law the biscuits really don’t taste burned at all, or going to your friend’s favorite restaurant even if you don’t like it. It’s buying coffee for a stranger; it's practicing for hours to bring music to worship, even knowing the beauty is fleeting – just a few moments and it’s over and gone; it’s gathering to worship a God we can’t see, celebrating a baby king sleeping on the hay, lighting candles and singing about heavenly peace on an earth that’s far from any kind of peace at all.

There are things we do that make no sense, and we wonder how much they matter – but they’re done from love, so maybe those things that don’t make sense are the ones that matter the most of all.

Love that doesn’t make sense – and love is what Christmas is all about.

This so familiar story of Christmas, this story which makes us comfortable and nostalgic on nights like this – this story is in fact a strange tradition: a tradition of looking for God in the cold, the hungry, and the helpless, in the most unlikely corners of a dangerous and perplexing world.

May the God who delights in you, may the God who loves you enough to be born in Bethlehem – may that God bless you, and may you know that you are loved. And may you too love even when it doesn’t make sense, seeing beauty where others see nonsense, bringing peace into the most unlikely places of all. May we all hold onto this strange tradition of generous, extravagant, beautiful, unlikely love.

God of strange traditions, God of risk-taking and self-sacrificing love: we are so thankful for the tradition, the story, the truth that brings us here tonight. We are grateful that you loved us into creation, even when it didn’t make sense; we are thankful that, when we were lost and cold and alone, you came to meet us right where we are. Meet us here tonight. In Jesus’ name we pray; amen.

[1] https://www.ripleys.com/weird-news/annual-2012-gum/

[2] https://mymodernmet.com/hair-cat-hats-ryo-yamazaki/

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kioraxerxo · 5 years

Text

Beyond

Pairing: Brian May x F!OC Rating: G Word Count: 1.3k A/N: This is actually an old fic. A really old fic. I wrote this about 6 years ago. I just recently converted it to a Queen fic because I never got to publish it anywhere. Might be really cheesy forgive me pls

Summary: Brian was on tour. The both of you were thousands of miles apart, and yet something keeps you together. ________________________

1974

She picked up the phone at the first ring. Naturally, she was jittery when she greeted “Hello,” but her nerves settled after she was greeted back by a warm, deep “Hi.”

“Brian,” she smiled; and he practically heard her smile.

“I just came to call you. Even though it’s just been like what, a week?” he said, clutching the phone close, as if its proximity might make her more real.

“You know it’s only been a week. I bet your calendar has red X marks on it like in those teen movies we used to watch,” she teased. He bit his lip and lowered the volume of the telly. He missed her enough to actually watch the horrid films that she seemed to take a genuine interest of. But then she didn’t need to know that.

“So how is it all the way there?” he asked. “I bet you’re all tanned and fluent now,” he attempted to construct the image of his girlfriend. “Hey! There’s more to this place than that. I came here to take up my graduates program, not to flirt with boys,” she rolled her eyes. “Besides, I already have one back home,” she chuckled.

“I can’t believe it’s already been a week. Fourty-eight more to go then,” he sighed, leaning his head against the deep wooden cupboard of the hotel they were staying in, a slight creek emitting from its old hinges. “I’m just stuck here second-lining with Mott while you’re there skinny dipping in perfect white sand beaches,” he mused, hoping she would laugh, although it was funny, and he did truly mean it as a joke, she stayed silent. “Wait… you haven’t been skinny-dipping, have you?!” he asked, suddenly panicking at the prospect of his girlfriend’s naked body out in the open.

“ ‘Course not” she laughed.

Finally.

“Then why were you so silent?”

There was a pause in the line.

“I just recalled the first day we met.” she said nonchalantly.

“You mean the day you had to purposefully walk in front of a person who was taking scenery shots when you could’ve just walked behind?” he laughed, recalling the fated day as well.

“It was the best mistake I ever made,” she said, smiling. He was piqued as to why she suddenly had a nostalgic tone in her voice, a rare occurrence to the naturally vivacious girl. “You know, I actually read some of that during my litcrit class. Wait for a moment, I’m going to fetch my book.” she got up and went to her room leaving the phone by their picture on her desk. The book was under a pile of memorabilia she stuffed in her duffel bag last week while packing for her scholarship. She shuffled through the pages and finally spotted it. The Chinese Proverb.

“Here we are.” she picked up the phone again. “It’s a Chinese proverb about the Red String of Fate. They say that when a human is born, the spirits tie an invisible red string around the two individual’s ankles. The individuals are then destined to meet. It may wear, stretch, loosen, and tangle but it will never tear. Some soul mates meet once in the village market, in the court, or even merely passing by at the train station. Some lives they live happily ever after, some lives they merely catch a glimpse by the other side of the road. One thing is certain, they are destined to meet one way or another.”

“ That says a lot about the state of the quality of education there,” he laughed.

“I’m serious Brian! It’s…”

“Romantic? Cosmic-connection-pseudoscience-fiction-like?” he poked fun at her. Knowing all her favourite topics inside out. “Oh shut up, you.” she never mentioned it, but she was endeared by his silly antics, even if she often found herself the victim. She palmed the bracelet he gave her.

“What if I never met you?” she whispered.

“Bull.”

“I’m not jesting you! Just think about it. What if I chose to walk behind you than in front of you that day? What if you didn't notice me walk by or just tolerated my mistake and let me pass without speaking to me? I mean, the world is a pretty big place. A person you walk by in the city might as well be never seen by you again. What if… what if Sharon walked by instead of me?” she asked, misty-eyed and contemplative.

He gagged at the notion. “Sharon? No, what the hell?” Sharon was his ex-girlfriend. She was smart, nice, stunningly beautiful, and they got along pretty well. But she just wasn’t her.

“Well, what if?!” She pushed on the other end.

“As much as I’d like to play pretend right now, I’m perfectly content with my girl.”

“You wouldn’t know that,” she twirled the phone line around her finger. “What if it really were Sharon who passed you, and you got into a serious relationship with her. And you loved and learned and grew together. But she had to accept a scholarship in the Philippines and you had to go tour for a year and now she’s talking to you on the phone forcing you to imagine what ifs. And you said you were perfectly content with her… because you never met me.”

He was silent on the other line, coming to terms with the ideas she put int his head.

“How would you know? How could you long for something that never existed? How could you remember something that never happened? How could you treasure a memory that did not occur in the first place? What if I wasn’t your red string of fate? What if I was just like Sharon, a wrong encounter gone right? A second-best because destiny decided to wait a little longer till you met the other end of the string?”

He heard her voice shiver. “A little tangle in the grand scheme of it all?” she bit her lip.

Brian took a deep breath, she continued. “And what’s disturbing is that you’d never know. You’d never realize that somewhere, someone out there could actually make you happier than I can? Because how can you know happiness you’ve never felt?”

There was a long pause creeping in every corner of the room, transcending all the way to his place. He felt the weight of her questions, the doubt, the possibility that what they had was temporary, an accident of fate. He spoke up. “Does this Red String of yours transcend time, age, circumstance, status, probability, geography, and economic standing?” he worded out confidently.

“….what?”

“I mean does the contract still work?”

“ I guess so…” She trailed off, uncertain at where he was going with this. She flipped through the pages for reference. He heard sound of her clamouring for an answer to his rhetorical question. He knew her so well.

“Well then!” he piped happily, “Remember this day! For I shall check up on you in the next lifetime and let’s see how that’ll turn out. Then we shall see if you truly are at the other end of my red string of fate,” his voice was warm and comforting.

As if the vibrations travelled by string. And it made her believe, for just a moment, that maybe, just maybe, the other end was wrapped around hers. She grinned.

“See you in the next lifetime, Brian.”

“See you in the next lifetime, love.”

It had been minutes after he hung up, with a loving goodbye, that she smiled knowingly. She doesn't have to be afraid of losing him. He was connected to her beyond their physical beings. She glanced at her watch, but only found the tattered, red bracelet he had given her the day they met.

She smiled. She knew it was her. She felt it.

#fics #brian may x reader #queen #queen fics #queen imagines #brian may #queen headcanons #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #freddie mercury #john dea #roger taylor

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stellarbisexual · 6 years

Link

Reddie / IT fandom

Companion piece to Whenever I’m Alone With You, from Eddie’s POV

READ ON AO3

Two months into college, Eddie’s life could not look more different than it did in Derry. He’d gotten a car and driven up to Vermont a full week earlier than freshman orientation, lying to his mother about the start date since he’d been practically bursting to get out of that fucking house, away from her, and across the state line since getting his acceptance letter.

He’d come to Middlebury with no lifeline and no real friends, apart from Bev, Mike, and Richie, all of whom he was on okay terms with but definitely didn’t hang out with anymore. Richie’d “gotten them in the divorce,” as Stan likes to say (Eddie often wonders if he’d actually coopted the joke from Richie), though Bev always stops for a proper catch-up session when they run into each other on campus--if she isn’t with Richie, of course.

But Eddie’d marched right up to the LGSA table the first day and never looked back, instantly gaining a group of loyal, fiercely protective friends to replace the ones he’d lost in the transition to college and the others he’d been slowly, painfully losing over the last few years. They drive into the city--sometimes Burlington, sometimes all the way to Boston--to go to clubs and other college parties (all queer, of course). They have parties of their own. Eddie drinks and dances and never stops being surprised when a guy (any guy, though especially the really cute ones) is drawn to him. The ball of anxiety at the pit of his stomach, the one that’s dictated most of his decisions since he was a kid, has shrunken down to no more than a tiny ulcer. Sometimes it likes to burn particularly brightly, usually within the first few minutes of Eddie walking into one of these dark, loud, crowded parties. But he just clings to his friends, literally, and breathes, waiting for it to subside. And it almost always does.

He hooks up with guys, still feeling painfully young and not at all sexy the first few times until one day he feels practiced enough to feel like he sort of knows what he’s doing. It’s way better than it was when he was with Victor; in a way, he needed to get away from home to feel like he was even allowed. He has fleeting moments where he feels attractive, even, like when he’s out with his friends and they’re loading him up on compliments (your eyes, your hair, your skin, Eddie), but he doesn’t carry it around in his pocket the way that some of the others are able to. He suspects he never will.

He watches Richie continue to grow up and apart from him. He’s hard to miss on campus, perpetually dark clothing and all legs (is the fucker ever going to stop growing?). He trades his glasses for contacts, which gives Eddie an unexpected pang, though there’s a lovely little intimacy in getting to see his face bare, even if it’s as they pass each other in silence.

Eddie sneaks into a couple of Richie’s band’s bigger gigs, ones at which he’s sure he’ll go unnoticed. He hasn’t heard Richie sing since they were kids, and not for real much, anyway, and when he does, he immediately realizes his mistake. Maybe Richie couldn’t sing Rodgers & Hammerstein for shit, but he can purr his way through almost anything with a guitar. And seeing him on stage, it’s too nostalgic, a pure, unadulterated taste of his old best friend, the kid he once knew, to whom he was once attached at the hip and shared everything with. Eddie truly hadn’t realized how much he’s missed that part of Richie, the clown in him, and it makes him ache, seeing it on display for a room full of strangers instead of concentrated on just an audience of one (or a chosen, cherished six).

Richie’s laugh, God, it’s still the same, absurd and carefree and dorky, as if it has yet to catch up with his shiny exterior. The ward of Eddie’s heart, the one dedicated to Richie, the one that’s been all sealed up and ramshackled shut, opens wide, flooding his chest and down the length of his limbs until there’s barely room for air.

At the end of his freshman year, Eddie’s roped into being a bachelor up for auction at some fundraiser LGSA’s hosting. A room full of guys bidding on him sounds pretty terrifying, but it’s for a good cause, and he feels like he owes the group for singlehandedly carrying him through his first year, so he reluctantly says yes.

He turns to his friends in a slight panic (I don’t know what the fuck to even wear), and they gleefully dress him up in a three-piece suit and make sure his hair is perfect. Most of the other bachelors are going kitschy or sexy, so they think it’ll help him stand out. Besides, Eddie’d quickly realized after his second or third queer party that cutoff shorts and glitter just aren’t his thing, so he’s happy to don more traditional auction wear.

He’s not sure what to expect. His fear is dead silence.

When he comes out on stage, the response is overwhelming, the cheers, whistles, and whoops feeling warm and supportive rather than objectifying. Most of the people in the room know firsthand or by proxy Eddie’s backstory, his struggles to come to terms with who he is and create a healthy boundary with his mom, so he supposes that has a lot to do with the reaction. It doesn’t make it any less flattering.

His entire face goes red instantly, and he turns away from the audience for a long beat to screech into his hands--which makes everyone laugh and applaud that much louder.

He eventually turns back to them, smiling sheepishly as the auctioneer reads Eddie’s “likes” and “dislikes” (that he totally didn’t fucking write) off of a neon pink index card. It’s difficult to see the crowd under the lights, but Eddie finds himself holding on to an irrational hope that not only is Richie there but that he’ll bid on him, make some grand, stupid gesture like he used to just to get them in the same room again. But Eddie also has a feeling Richie ran out of inspiration for grand gestures a long time ago, at least where he’s concerned.

It’s a confident, funny sophomore named Chris who ends up winning the bid on him, and they awkwardly agree to not go through with actually going on a date, that bidding for a good cause is enough and the whole thing is kind of fucking weird.

Seeing Richie sitting behind him in class the first day of sophomore year makes Eddie feel like he’s in middle school again. Just the night before, reeling from seeing him dancing and laughing with Bev and Mike under the stadium lights, he’d finally confessed their history to his new friends. They’d driven to the beach and gathered around a bonfire for a game of Never Have I Ever, Eddie lighthearted and buzzed off of Magner’s until someone had disrupted the flow of more salacious “I’ve Never” statements with “I’ve never been in love.” Eddie had finished off his bottle of hard cider and tossed it into the sand with a grimace, slouching further into his hoodie.

The others had to ask, and he was suddenly, fiercely in the mood to answer, so he’d told it all, the whole saga of how they’d become friends, taken solace in each other, and discovered themselves together. Everyone had sat around the bonfire leaning towards him, eyes wide, rapt.

Oh my God, childhood soulmates.

I’ve always wanted that.

Eddie’d given them a small, bittersweet smile, though he couldn’t help feeling that there was a huge, crucial part of the narrative missing, something darker. He and Richie weren’t just soulmates; they were survivors. He knew it in his gut: they’d been through a fucking war together. And yeah, they’d both had their crosses to bear as far as their families were concerned, Richie especially--but it was more than that, something even more life and death than the people and circumstances that shape who you are.

With Richie right behind him in class, he feels the spectre of all that and more. He feels Derry, the good and the bad. He can almost taste the metallic bitterness of his inhaler blast on the back of his tongue. Battery acid. Richie knows all of it. All of him.

A force much bigger than Eddie brings him to Richie’s band’s first gig of the year, another one where he can fly under the radar and, thanks to his height, sink into the shadows. He stands still at the back, drinks way too much, and ends up making out feverishly with some older, swarthy, tattooed, pierced guy who definitely doesn’t go to Middlebury and might be too old to even be in college. They end up on a bench outside behind his dorm, where anyone can see them, Eddie practically trying to crawl into the guy’s mouth, whining loudly as he sucks bruises into Eddie’s neck and shoulder.

He doesn’t bring him inside, and he doesn’t think of him when curling a desperate hand around himself in bed that night.

I was giving handjobs back when you were too chickenshit to let anyone breathe on you, let alone kiss you. Richie’s mouth curling viciously around the word: chickenshit.

Eddie’s soaked his pillow case with tears, both sides, and now, sitting up at his desk trying to focus his vision on his chem textbook, he pushes the heels of his hands into his eyes and heaves a raspy, dry sob.

let alone kiss you

This is it: this is the reason he’d started pulling away all those years ago. This is exactly what he’s been trying to protect himself from, and now it’s happened. Their kiss, Eddie’s first, something he still remembers clear as day and cherishes as one of the most beautiful, important nights of his life, meant next to nothing to Richie. It’s been negated.

Holy shit, Eds, I always thought you were a eunuch down there.

He wraps his arms around himself and tries in vain to breathe.

Richie’s words have tapped into an ancient part of him, the part of him that would have hidden away in his tiny room in his mother’s house forever just to stay safe.

This is all assuming bisexuality is a thing that exists.

His own voice bounces around the edges of his brain, cold and clinical.

Eddie’d been cruel. He’d negated Richie. And if he’s completely honest with himself, he’d thrilled at the pain in Richie’s eyes.

Yeah, Richie’d been harsh, but Eddie’d been first. Because Richie’s always been kind, especially to Eddie, and only bites when he’s already been gnawed to shit--and sometimes not even then.

Eddie’s mom had once told him that he had hidden barbs, and it’s possibly the only thing she’s ever said that he knew deep down was absolutely true.

He immediately reaches for his stationery pad and tears a sheet from the top, clicking the nearest pen on his desk to life, throat raw and breath reedy as he scribbles out an apology.

Eddie’s vision goes spotty when he walks into Morgan’s Tavern that Saturday. He sees them through the french doors at the front, all six of them impossibly beautiful to him, his hurtful history with one nearly forgotten in the face of all of them together like this. He takes a deep breath, wanting to rush forward, throw himself into their arms, and yet not at all ready to snap that final piece of the puzzle into place. He observes quietly, swallowing down tears, flooded with a love he can’t believe he’d almost forgotten.

It was so fucking unfair of him, he realizes, to have ever thought he wasn’t himself until he came to Middlebury and linked up with the LGSA. Bill, Mike, Bev, Ben, and Stan: they were the ones who’d actually opened the door and freed him, at no more than thirteen.

And Richie, of course. Richie’d blown up the door with a cherry bomb, the two of them laughing all the while.

Childhood soulmates? Eddie’d had six. He owes them everything.

He sucks in a quiet, “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” before cranking the handle and pushing the door open.

Once they’re seated, Ben takes them all in and blurts it out: “I’m a little jealous, truth be told. I don’t get to have any of you guys in New York with me.” His gaze lingers on Bev.

Mike jumps in, detailing his and Richie’s many failed attempts at making a trip down over the last year, and Richie smiles, though it’s soft and distracted. His eyes glance at Eddie briefly, but his expression is clear enough, and it’s a sharp sentiment that Eddie shares, one of guilt for every moment they’ve spent ignoring each other in college.

Bev takes Eddie’s hand under the table and whispers a swift, “You okay, honey?” into his ear, to which he gives her an enthusiastic nod and his patented of course I am face. She winks at him and squeezes his fingers, and he ends up latched onto her side most of the rest of the night, Ben latched to the other.

Being in Richie’s room after dinner is more overwhelming for Eddie than he suspects it is for any of the rest of them; not only does it smell like him, but it’s got Richie’s personality all over it, right down to an orange blanket that Eddie recognizes from his childhood bedroom. He has an eerie feeling that this inanimate object can somehow sense what he’s feeling; it knows a key part of their history better than anyone in this room.

Richie’s mere feet away, already digging into his liquor supply in the window bench and setting it up methodically on top of his dresser, but Eddie��s never missed him as much as he does right now. Richie’s able to furnish “usuals” for Bev and Mike--and most of the others, too--but he has to ask Eddie politely what he wants, and that cuts deeper than Eddie expects it to.

Eddie wakes up the next morning in Richie’s bed, alone, his entire body aching with the memory of crying, the warm, forgiving embrace of Richie’s arms, and way too much fucking alcohol. He wishes he could remember it all more clearly, though the emotional hangover is enough to piece together a narrative of last night, like a dream that dissolves away upon waking.

He’s in Richie’s clothes, he realizes, and that orange blanket is wrapped around him. Richie’s eyes journey over his naked shoulder as it pokes out from under the collar of his own tee, then back to his face.

Before Eddie knows it, he’s crying again, this time over Richie’s kindness rather than his cruelty. He’s rambling, too, and Richie is shockingly patient through it all, one large, warm hand curled around Eddie’s shoulder--the one that’s still covered by his shirt. He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s saying--he’s pretty sure there’s an apology in there--but he hopes what he wants to say comes through anyway: I need you, more than anyone else.

The rest of it happens even faster: laughter, hands grasping, kissing, and skin, so much skin--and not enough, either, desperate sounds from both their mouths, and in the end, even more laughter. They laugh way harder than the moment probably warrants.

Then again, Eddie’s never been happier.

Later that morning, after their five friends have given them no shortage of shit for looking like they spent the morning doing exactly what they’d been doing, they all go apple picking.

As the group makes its way down the narrow, sun-dappled rows of trees, Richie reaches down and envelops Eddie’s hand in his. They stroll hand in hand, Eddie with a quiet smile on his face--until Richie pulls him into a secluded little clearing to make out for a bit and slip his cold hands under his shirt. Eddie yelps, playfully smacking his hands away but still pulling him down for one last kiss by the collar of his open overshirt. They look at each other, both clearly remembering the last time they’d stolen a kiss in public, their friends providing unintentional protective cover just by being nearby. Eddie smiles wide and pulls Richie’s face down again, sliding their mouths together sweetly, with all the gratitude in the world.

Being here reminds Eddie of how beautiful Richie looks in the autumn light, how it puts fiery yellows and oranges and reds into his eyes and hair. It’s an incredible thing, to be able to look at him this way so openly, after all these years. He reaches out and touches it, the fire of his hair, and Richie gives him a soft smile, hooks an arm around his neck, and presses a kiss into his hair, leading them back toward their friends.

Eddie can’t help but look over his shoulder, back at the secret spot they’re leaving behind, up at the sky above it, blue with the threat of grey just underneath. He can’t help but think that though they’re protected, they won’t be for long.

When they rejoin the rest of the Losers, he notices Mike and Bill look up at the sky and shiver, clearly thinking the exact same thing.

Later that day, after everyone’s gone back to their respective homes (Mike graciously giving them the room again), they have the time to truly savor each other. Eddie’d be totally tempted to skip all of his classes this week if he could afford to; it is almost time for midterms.

Richie sits on his bed, Eddie standing in front of him. “Let me look at you,” Richie says, fingers playing with a loose thread on one of the thighs on Eddie’s jeans. “It’s not every day that I have the cutest guy on campus in my room.”

Eddie ducks his head, but Richie pushes a gentle knuckle under his chin so they can connect eyes, Richie’s filled with an odd mixture of anticipation and relief.

Richie reaches up and musses his hair just so he can put it back into place--or maybe he’s just arranging it how he likes it. Eddie’s eyelids go heavy at the touch. “You growed up real good, Kaspbrak.” Richie’s smile is lopsided and adorable.

“I hope I’m not totally ‘growed up’ yet.”

“I hope you are,” Richie murmurs into his neck. “You’re the perfect height for me,” he says, then kisses his neck. “I missed you. I missed you so fucking much.”

Eddie’s hands dive into Richie’s hair, holding him right there in the crook of his neck, irrationally afraid he’ll disappear. “I missed you too, Rich.”

When Richie pulls back to look at him again, his eyes are big, brown, and glassy. He lays a hand over Eddie’s heart, then starts tapping along with the beat, fast. “Bom bom bom bom bom bom bom bom bom,” he mimics quietly. “Like a hummingbird’s wings.”

He pushes Richie’s hair out of his eyes and straddles him again, just like this morning, Richie’s arms settling comfortably around his waist, tight and yet never tight enough.

Richie isn’t his first, and he’s not Richie’s, either, but it feels way more important than his first time, way bigger. Richie knows him--not just confident, out-of-the-closet Eddie, but all the icky stuff that got him there--and Eddie’s so fucking in love with every version of Richie, too: the Richie that used to climb through his window, the one that used to pretend to sneeze on his pizza just to freak him out, even the Richie that broke his heart.

He especially loves the Richie that’s wrapped up with him now, making him feel all kinds of good and gorgeous, the one that dips him onto the mattress so he can lay properly, settling his manic heart.

permatag list: @reddie-to-fight @hurleyhugo @raspberrywind @losver-kaspbrak @lilgeorgie @geckolover001 @its-stranger-than-you-think @gazebo-motherfucker @waypunsarelife @reddietofall @happytozier @librablossom @aesteddie @tapetayloe@spagheddi-kaspbrak @sadhelianthus @adhdtozier @justcallme-trashmouth @fuckboyrichie @bandaids @20gayteeneds @richietoaster @burymestanding @reddiepop@notsugarandspice @richiefuckfacetozier @noahsschnapp

#hummingbird #mah fic #reddie #it 2017 #it 1990 #stephen king's it #IT'S FINALLY DONE #i'm not crazy about it #but i had to finish it #BAAH

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