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#i won't be adding the ones with and without music every time
canon-gabriel-quotes · 3 months
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Transcript:
COME ON MACHINE, FUCK ME LIKE AN ANIMAL.
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knickynoo · 2 years
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I am once again pondering the fact that Marty McFly is just such a fantastic character. Like, especially when you look at other male protagonists in the 80s, they all follow a similar trend. A lot are uber cool and suave, with the added side effect of also being a jerk. Many are popular jocks or whatever. Big flirts. Edgy and troubled or sleazy, etc.
And Marty is sort of in his own category entirely. He's cool, but he's not? He skateboards and kills it on guitar but has 2 whole friends--his girlfriend and a disgraced scientist--and crippling self-doubt and can't go a day without falling down or tripping over his own feet or nearly being killed by a car.
He's polite. He's respectful. Won't let anyone mess with the people he loves and doesn't let a moment pass by where he can thank somebody or apologize for a wrongdoing. (seriously, Marty has beautiful manners. Like, it is quite noticeable how often he says, "please," "thank you," "excuse me," or "sorry".)
His emotions are all SO BIG and he doesn't hold back on them. He gets all animated when he's excited and yells when he's scared and cries when he's sad and pulls his friend into big ol' hugs.
He literally never knows what is going on. Marty exists in the constant state of confusion. Between asking Doc to "wait a minute" every other sentence and his ever-changing, scattered thoughts, Marty is just out there trying to survive. Just slow it down, alright? He's a smart guy, but he's also got elevator music playing in his head. Really really fast elevator music.
Time means nothing to him. His watch is broken. He's racking up tardies like it's nobody's business. Stopping by the garage to look for Doc and play some guitar when he should be at school. He's got to get out of that stupid suit RIGHT THIS INSTANT even though he's got one shot at the lightning strike at the clock tower.
Marty just. Does things. There is zero impulse control. A synapse fires and Marty's brain goes "!!!" and that's that. Punch the bully who's twice your size, buy that sports almanac, just Walk Away while Doc is talking to you. Buy that sweet leather jacket. Ignore ALL instructions you're given! Marty, you need constant supervision and I love you for that.
He's just. Marty is the most character. Look at him.
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They really knocked it out of the park with this guy.
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kaleldobrev · 6 months
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Comfortable?
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader
Summary: Falling asleep in Dean's lap while he's driving
Word Count: 516
Warnings: None, honestly just pure fluff
Authors Note: Takes place pre-season one | Would anyone be up for a pre-season series with reader and Dean? Been really in the mood to write a little something | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡
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You didn't know what it was about Baby that had made you feel so safe and secure, but each and every time you stepped foot inside of her, all anxiety and fear that you once had would quickly wash away. She wasn't a quiet vehicle by any means. The engine roared, and sometimes she would bump a little more prominently on certain roads, the sound of legos would rattle when the AC or heat would be turned on, and Dean would always have some type of cassette playing even if you were attempting to get even a wink of sleep.
The more you thought about it, maybe it wasn't Baby who had made you feel safe and secure, but it was the man that drove her.
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As Dean drove along the highway, there were no cars in sight. The only kind of light for miles were the headlights of Baby; not even streetlamps. Metallica was playing softly on the radio, as Dean lowered the volume so the two of you could talk without yelling over the music. But the conversation didn't last long as you felt your eyes starting to grow heavy.
You wanted to try and stay up so you could continue talking to Dean, but the tiredness that you were feeling was starting to take over more and more. Letting out a small yawn, you pressed your back to the passenger side door and crossed your arms, trying to get into a comfortable position. "Gonna sleep on me?" Dean asked, briefly looking at you before looking back at the road again.
"Unfortunately, yes," you confirmed. "I just feel exhausted all of a sudden," you said.
"Want your blanket? It's still laid out from earlier," Dean said winking. You looked at him, not responding to his comment as you were too tired. Usually, you'd give him some kind of sassy remark, or tease him, but instead, you simply just leaned into the back seat, grabbing the blanket Dean had placed neatly before the two of you had sex a few hours prior.
Taking the blanket you wrapped it around yourself, and tried your best to get comfortable, but you found yourself shifting way too much. "Come here," Dean said, gesturing for you to lay down.
"You sure? Won't be distracting?" You asked.
He shook his head. "Not at all," he reassured. "Now come here. I want you to be comfortable. We got a long drive."
"Okay," you said, before shifting positions. You placed your head in Dean's lap, while the soles of your boots pressed up against the passenger side door. When you looked up briefly, your boyfriend was slightly grinning. "Comfortable?" You asked.
"I should be the one asking you that," he said, letting out a small chuckle. "But yes, I am comfortable. Are you?"
"Yeah," you replied. "Wake me up if we stop okay?"
"Sure thing Sweetheart," he said, his free hand that was currently not on the wheel started stroking your hair gently; your eyes starting to flutter closed. "Goodnight Sweetheart."
"Goodnight Dean," you smiled before feeling yourself drifting off to sleep.
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Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @jackles010378 @mrsjenniferwinchester @syrma-sensei @k-slla @justletmereadfanfic @deans-daydream @octoberclidan If you'd like to be added to a tag list, let me know!
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lewsnumerounofan · 9 months
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party foul (jeremiah fisher x reader)
summary: so what if you're in love with your best friend, jeremiah fisher? one drunk kiss won't change anything. right?
notes: not biblically accurate conrad, teen drinking, kissing, 3k words, reader previously dated co**ad, angst/miscomm., not proof read at all
+ part 2
+ i never keep the same tense i'm so sooryim gooo fuckjuhnbsorry oh my god and dw abt the header image!!!!!! it's okay!!!!!
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kissing jere was easy.
it was the first thing you noticed. how easy it was to let his lips slant over yours, to tilt your head back at the greedy request of his hands, to forget about the party and conrad and the house.
it was just him and the feel of his mouth on yours.
you hadn't expected this, to say the least. in fact, you'd been bracing for an awkward and mostly miserable night. ever since conrad and you had split back in june, things had been awful. the breakup had been bad itself--getting ditched at prom without explanation was one thing--but watching conrad get back with nicole a week later was even worse.
so you were pleasantly surprised with yourself when you decided to go to the fisher's goodbye party, despite whatever tension there might be between you and conrad.
if you were being honest with yourself though, you mostly had jeremiah to thank. you two had been best friends since childhood, but ever since his brother had broken your heart, jere had been there for you. all the time, really. he'd drive down on weekends to check up on you. and when susannah had gotten worse, you'd driven up to make sure he was eating and sleeping too.
so of course he'd been able to convince you to come stay, waving off your concerns about conrad. i want you there, he'd said. i really want you there. and so you'd come. you arrived late, tired from the hours of highway driving. already the house was packed with hap hazardously parked cars and drunk teenagers. the music was loud even on the warm streets outside, and you couldn't help but feel excited as you pulled your bag out of your car and started towards the party.
taylor was the one who opened the door for you. she launched herself into a hug, giggling and shrieking as you two swung around.
"oh my god. you have no idea how happy i am to see you," she yelled, dragging you into the crowded house.
together you fumbled upstairs, eventually breaking into one of the larger rooms. various assortments of air mattresses and water beds covered the floor. jere had called you as soon as they'd gotten back from the boardwalk about julia's suprise moving. it wasn't often you heard him so... defeated.
"you can drop your stuff wherever," said taylor, "but the one in the corner is jeremy's."
she didn't even bother to hide her grin as you slapped her arm. nothing, not even your best kept secret, made it past taylor.
"shut up. you can't say anything to him or i swear i'll kill you," you promised, only half joking.
"oh please. he hasn't stopped talking about you the whole trip. it's disgusting."
you tried not to smile at that--jere talked about you? i mean, he'd called you just about every day for the last few months. more, on days when things were hard. but still, you felt almost nervous at the thought of seeing him now. of what it might be like between you.
your thoughts were cut off by a shout of your name. running into the room was belly. well, not running--rolling.
"oh my god bell what are you wearing?" you asked. it was too late though, because she was wrapping you up in a wobbly, crushing hug.
"roller skates? duh? they're an old pair of susannah's," she said.
you'd missed belly. she looked fucking adorable in her little vintage number, and you hugged her again just because. over her shoulder you could see steven grinning, and conrad too. you waved to the later while steven strode over, ruffling your hair before taking your bag from you.
"long time no see, city-girl," he said.
"yeah yeah yeah. just be nice to my bag, okay? it's got some very delicate presents," you said. steven raised his eyebrows but did as you said, placing your bag onto the bed taylor had indicated earlier. jere's bed. taylor and steven met eyes and winked--uh oh. the last thing you needed was them trying to set you up with your best friend. your best friend who you're in love with, something inside you said. you tried your best to strangle it.
"hey."
this time it was conrad, who was sporting a pair of atrocious sunflower sunglasses on the top of his head.
"hey. i like the glasses," you said, doing your best to smile. it was weird to talk like this to him. you were so angry and embarrassed and sad because of him for so long, and now there was just... nothing. and it felt okay.
"uh, yeah. nicole--nicole got them for me."
he looked sheepish, blushing in a way that used to have you fawning. now you just did your best to nod, saying, "well, she's certainly got a good eye for fashion."
you were saved from the conversation by steven's cough. he stood by the doorway, impatiently waving you towards the party.
"cmon guys, can we hurry this up?"
"yeah, gimmie one sec," you promised. returning to your bag you pulled out the liquor you'd secured on your way there, the bottles heavy in your hands.
"see," you said, turning back to your friends, "presents."
-
downstairs was even louder than you thought it would be. belly had gone all out for the party--strobe lights blared in every room, a kegger was set up outside, and a dj (was that cam cameron??) was spinning in the living room. you had to admit it: you were having a good time. a really good time. except for, that is, one thing. or person, really. jere was nowhere to be found. he'd even missed out on the group shots you, steven, taylor, belly and conrad had downed first beside the pool and then by the kitchen. jeremiah never missed group shots.
a little more than drunk now, you pushed off from your spot on the counter to find your bestfriend.
"city-girl, where you going?" asked steven.
"i'm gonna go find jere. i haven't seen him since i got in."
"i'll come with you," a voice spoke up.
it was conrad, who looked between you and the floor nervously. you didn't miss the questioning looks that pass between taylor and belly. you shrug at them--a little nervous, but not enough to turn him down in front of all your friends.
"uh, yeah sure."
so you and conrad made your way back through the party, scanning couches and corners for jeremiah. by the time you hit the stairs you were both sweaty and annoyed. you had come all this way to see him, and all of a sudden he'd disappeared.
"he's not picking up any of my calls," said conrad, pulling his phone away from his ear.
"me neither," you admitted, letting yourself swing around the banister to sit at the bottom of the staircase. cautiously, conrad gestured to empty landing beside you.
"mind if i join?"
you nod, scooching over to make room. conrad looked bigger than last time you'd seen him. he looked stronger too. for a while after susannah died he'd looked like a corpse--pale and skinny and only half there. even you could admit you were glad to see him doing so much better.
"hey, look i didn't really tag along to search for jere," conrad said, glancing back at you. shocker.
"i uh," he cleared his throat, "i mostly just wanted to apologize. for how things ended. i know i messed up really bad and i wanted to say i'm sorry."
in the hazy blue and purple's of the dance floor below, conrad's steel-blue eyes were genuine. for the first time that night they held yours steadily.
"i was hurting, and let myself fall on you for comfort even when i knew you weren't who i wanted. who i needed. and it wasn't fair to you. i know that now, and i'm sorry it took me so long. i'm really, really sorry."
huh. you hadn't really expected that one either. but it was nice to hear him say those words. you liked conrad. he was a good guy who'd had a rough hand delt to him. and yeah, he hadn't done right by you. but like susannah had always repeated:
"no harm no foul," you said, and let yourself smile at him. he looked relieved as he smiled back, no doubt recognizing the reference to his mother.
"you're happy now, i take it? with nicole?" you ask.
"yeah. more than happy, actually. don't know what i did to deserve her."
you're happy for him, in that moment. really happy.
"what about you? you finally stopped messing around and admitted your feelings to jere?" he asked.
"huh?" you drop, mouth open. there's no way.
"what," he chuckled, grinning harder at your shocked expression, "like it's not obvious you two are crazy for each other."
you can feel the blush spreading across your cheeks now, stomach skipping at his words. so they all knew, you realized. does jere?
"he doesn't--you didn't tell him, right?" you said, panic rising.
conrad shakes his head, still looking amused.
"no, but he'd be a fool not to see it. you guys are perfect for each other. really."
"thanks, conrad."
and you mean it--it's been months of awkwardness between you. and now you just feel... good. you feel like you've got your friend back. so you lean over and hug him, letting yourself remember that before your fling you were friends, and returning back to it feels comforting and warm.
"thank you, for hearing me out. i'm glad we can be back to normal now," he said into your shoulder.
"friends again?" you ask.
"definit--"
"what the fuck?"
-
it's jeremiah. he stands at the top of the stairs, eyes wide. he's wearing the ariana grande merch you'd gotten him. he looks the same and yet--
and yet something in your chest fizzes and your stomach starts running circles as you look at him. you missed him. and not because he was your best friend.
"jere--it's not what it looks like," said conrad.
and then you realized he did look different. the jeremiah you knew was always grinning about some secret joke, or making fun of belly or steven. he never looked... betrayed like this. and he certainly never looked at you with disgust. with anger.
"what the fuck are you guys doing?" he asked again, but this time he didn't even look at you.
"nothing, jere. we were just talking," said conrad.
you cringed at his words. they might be true, but they sure didn't sound good.
"yeah, sure," laughed jere. you'd never heard him laugh like that. it made your skin prickle.
"c'mon, you know i'd never do that-" conrad started.
jeremiah was faster though. he was up in conrad's face in a second, pushing him into the wall. you'd never seen him like this. he wasn't an aggressive guy; even when the brothers fought it was never violent.
"don't fucking lie, con. you were just waiting to take her back weren't you? waiting until you knew it'd hurt me the most, huh?"
you felt his words viscerally, like they were being penned onto your skin. hurt him the most? it was the closest to a confession you'd gotten, but it all felt wrong.
by now, partygoers on the main floor had started to notice the commotion. people were pointing, some even starting to pull out their phones. great.
"jere," you called. he paused, bright blue eyes on you. even now, fighting with his brother, jeremiah looked beautiful. maybe you had had a bit too much to drink.
"jere, please let it go. conrad isn't a part of this," you murmured. though you didn't break eye contact, you could see his hands loosen around his brother's shirt in your peripheral. jaw clenched, he heeded your wishes, giving a final shove to conrad before breaking away. he walked quickly down the stairs and into the throngs of people below.
"jere, wait up!" you call, desperately trying to follow the broad shape of his back through the crowd. jeremiah didn't bother trying to accommodate your smaller strides, and you almost lost him a few times in the packed house.
"would you please slow down? jere," you said again. by now you were out of the house, dodging pool floaties and scattered drinks. the blonde made no indication of hearing you as he kept striding towards the beach.
"jeremiah!"
finally he whipped around. he still looked mad--the set of his jaw, the notching of his eyebrows--but under all of it, he just looked sad. you hated seeing him upset, and you hated knowing you might've been the cause of it.
"jere, please. what's going on?" you asked, this time softly. he was close to you now. you could see his heavy breathing, could smell the perfume he always wore.
"how would i know. you're the one who's looking all close with your ex--my brother--conrad," he spits. he swallows hard, like he's checking himself.
"it was always you and conrad. even when we were kids it was that way. i was stupid to think it could've been any different."
he turned away from you, gaze hard. oh, jere. you have no idea, you thought. it was him--how could he not see that? how could he really think it was conrad you cared about?
you couldn't deny it any longer: you loved jere. and you definitely weren't about to let him walk away thinking otherwise.
quickly, without letting yourself dwell on it, you grabbed jeremiah's hand. he turned back, eyes wide. and you kissed him.
kissing jere was easy.
it was the first thing you noticed. how easy it was to let his lips slant over yours, to tilt your head back at the greedy request of his hands, to forget about the party and conrad and the house.
it was just him and the feel of his mouth on yours.
and then everything was static. everywhere he touched you--the long, lean press of his body to your front, the sharp slide of his jawline under your palm, the firm press of his hands at your waist. every sense was filled with him and his warmth and the way he smelled.
you were gasping into the kiss, hyperaware of the small noises he made when you pulled on his curls. of just how tall he was, how much he had to lean down to hold you like this.
you barely broke away enough to say, "jere, nothing happened with conrad. we were talking about you-"
"don't care," he said, voice rough. because he was too busy lifting you onto one of the wooden boardwalk rails, muscled arms flexing in the distant party lights.
you barely had time to settle before he was kissing you again, sloppy this time, like he owned your mouth and wanted you to know it. you felt hot everywhere, as his hands pulled apart your thighs and he crowded his broad body into you.
you'd kissed once before for a game of truth or dare. it had been sweet and short, and you both had been teased about it for years afterwards. this was different.
wholly different, you realized, as jeremiah's lips sought out the hot skin of your neck. there was no place except where he touched you; the noise of the party, the lull of the waves on the beach, the quiet way he murmured against your skin.
"jere," you said, because there was no room in your mind for anything or anyone else. he hummed as his canines bit lightly at your ear. jere.
greedy for more, you took one of the tan, strong hands holding your face and brought it lower, lower until it rested over your frantically beating heart. jere had pulled away to watch your ministrations, cursing softly as his hand fell over your chest.
"you sure?" he asked, and his voice sounded hoarse.
"yeah, course jere. it's you."
something behind his eyes sparked at the trust you promised. it's always been you. kissing you once more, gentler this time, jere let his hand run up and under the vintage bathing suit top you'd stolen from your mom for the party.
skin on skin, jeremiah was soft and warm. he was breathing heavy as you as he felt you up. forehead to yours, gaze keen as he watched you pant and squirm.
"this okay?"
you could only nod, eyes drawn tight at the sensation. he kissed you again, his touch more confident as you clung to his shoulders.
you'd messed around with conrad a few times. it had felt good. fun, even. but he'd never had you reeling like this, never made you feel like everywhere he touched was fire. that feeling was reserved for jere.
and as his thumb circled your nipple and his teeth pulled at your lip, you realized you were burning and there wasn't anything you could do to stop it. best friend or not, jere was the only one who could make you feel like this. ever.
you pulled away from his mouth. he looked concerned, and you could feel him move his hands away from you.
"sorry if i..." he started, blue eyes near scared as he watched you.
"no, jere it's not that. it's, it's just that i-"
"hey, there's my man! where the fuck were you dude?"
it was steven. fucking steven. on his arm was taylor, who grinned manically when she saw your mussed hair and blushing expression. please not now, taylor. please don't mess this up any more.
but drunk as they were, the pair didn't notice your nervous expression. instead, steven laughed and said, "so did you finally tell her you're in love with her or what?"
-
jere's face dropped. whatever softness you'd shared moments earlier was gone. his mouth set flat, hands that had been mapping out your body now closed into fists.
"fuck you, steven."
taylor's eyes were on you now, finally recognizing the tears you tried to blink away. with a hand on his chest she held steven back, some wordless communication passing between them. if you hadn't been feeling your own heart break you would've been trying to tease them about it.
instead, you chased after jeremiah's retreating figure.
"jere, will you please listen!" you called. but he was stubborn--you knew this better than anyone. one more time you tried, shouting his name over the stupidly loud party.
he whipped back around, blue eyes sharp.
"just stay away from me, okay? why don't you go find conrad to wipe your tears," he snapped. for a moment, jere looked shocked at his own words too. but then he was shaking his head, tearing his gaze away from yours as he continued through the crowds towards the house. away from you.
and this time, as people collapsed into the space all around you, their yelling and singing drowning out even your thoughts, you knew there was no use calling for him.
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aalyssah · 1 year
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Respect You
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Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Wife!Reader
Warnings: Body parts in food! Killing, and Fluff?
Word Count: 1,502
Summary: When Hannibal meets your parents, they talk bad about you, so he makes sure they don't ever say a word again.
A/N: Every time I write for Hannibal, I think about body parts and food. Am I weird? Hope You Enjoy!
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You were extremely nervous today.
You were nervous because you and your parents have never been on good terms. After an argument you had with them when you were 16, you moved out and ever since then, you haven't talked to them, but today you decided to give them a chance.
It is also going to be their first time meeting Hannibal. Hannibal is your first real lover, so having them meet him is very special to you and Hannibal knows that because you won't stop talking about it.
You stood in front of the mirror in you and Hannibal's shared bedroom, holding up two dresses against your body. "Han, should I wear my black dress, or the red one?" Hannibal came behind you, arms circling around your waist and placing kisses in the nape of your neck.
"It doesn't matter which one because you'll still look beautiful, Darling." A blush formed in your face at his compliment. "Okay, I'm gonna wear the black one." You broke away from his hold and began to get your jewelry and perfume out, making Hannibal look at the clock.
"Love, it's only 3:23, we have until 6:00. Why are you getting ready so early?" You sighed and turned around to look at him. "I already told you, Han. I can't afford to look bad after so many years. I gotta show them I'm better without them." You pulled out the iron and plugged it in.
"What are we eating tonight? Gotta make sure we impress them." Hannibal thought about it for a moment. "It will be my surprise." You didn't stress too much about the food, only your impression.
Hannibal laid a kiss on your forehead and grabbed his keys. "Imma go get the food, do you need anything?" You shook your head and continued iron pressing your dress. "Wait, give me your suit so I can make sure there's no wrinkles."
Hannibal chuckled and grabbed his suit before giving it to you and walking out to the car. From what you've told him, your parents seem like assholes. They didn't want you to follow your dreams.
They wanted you to become a dentist to follow in their footsteps, instead of you pursuing your art career. They told you that you were nothing and that if you don't follow their rules under their roof, that you should leave, and that's just what you did.
That's how Hannibal met you. Even though you were in your worst shape, he still found you beautiful and now looks at you. Living in a luxurious home with the man of your life, and still doing what you wanted to do when you were younger.
Every time Hannibal thinks about that story, he wants nothing more than to bash your workers head in and feed it to their dogs.
Hannibal watched a fit looking couple walk the streets laughing together. Too bad they 're gonna be screaming in a minute. Hannibal sneakily creeped his way over to the two and pulled them in an alley before brutally murdering them. All he needed was their legs.
The man's leg was full of meat and which was a good sign. Hannibal took the guy's leg and the woman before dragging them in his car.
-
When he got home he instantly got to work, cutting up the couple. Tonight, he was gonna make a whole roasted leg, smoked, glazed and served on a sugar cane quill for him and your parents. He was gonna fix you something 'normal' because he knew how much you hated human flesh.
Believe it or not, when he told you he likes to eat humans, you didn't leave him. And that's because you love him. You love him so much that you didn't let that scare you away.
He played slow jazz music in the background as he cooked, and added every spice in the meal. You came downstairs seeing Hannibal cooking. "Smells good, baby. You need me to do anything?" Hannibal hummed. "Set the table, please?" You pulled out a tablecloth and placed it on the table while getting the utensils.
-
It was getting closer and closer to the time and you were now dressed. Hannibal came behind you, smirking. "Damn, darling. You look so good I might have to eat you." He playfully bit on your skin, a loud laugh coming out your throat. "Well, if you keep being a good boy, you might get to eat something tonight."
The flirting was soon stopped when a knock at the door came. You looked at Hannibal with worry in your eyes before taking a deep breath. Hannibal went back in the kitchen to get the food, while you walked to the door and opened it.
There stood your Mom and Dad who didn't look no different from the previous years, other than a few gray spots in their hair. "Y/n." Your Mom's tone was strict and straightforward. "Hi." You tried to hide the nervousness in your voice, but it clearly didn't work.
"Come in." You stepped aside and let them walk in. Your Dad dropped his coat on you, leaving you suffocated by the puffy coat. You hung it on the coat hanger and made your way to the dining room. The table was set neatly and to top it all off, the food was plated.
You three sat down and began eating in an awkward silence. “So, how's life been?” They paused and looked at you when you started a conversation. “Good.” The short answer was all that was needed until Hannibal got back.
Your eyes lit up and a sigh of relief came out when he brought the door, breaking the silence. “Mom, Dad, this is my husband, Hannibal.” They studied Hannibal closely seeing how neat and tidy he looked.
His hair was brushed perfectly, not a single wrinkle on his suit, and the strong smell of his cologne, indicated how well he was. “Also, he prepared this lovely dinner.” Another point added to their list. He could cook that’s even better!
Your Mom stood up and held her hand out. “Well, hello Hannibal. I’m glad to meet you.” Your eyebrows furrowed in slight anger. Your Mom had a flirty tone in her voice as she eyed Hannibal. “Oh Dear, let go of the guy.” Your Dad scolded, making your Mom let out an annoyed groan.
Everyone sat down and enjoyed the meal. Every time you tried talking, they would ignore you and talk to Hannibal instead. “Oh my god, guys guess what? I got invited to-” Before you could finish your sentence you were cut off by your Dad. “Y/n, shut the fuck up! Nobody cares about your art!”
You dropped your fork on the plate and got up. “Just gonna go to the bathroom real quick.” Your voice cracked and went to the bathroom. Your Mom let out a breath. “Now that she’s gone, let’s make a deal.”
Hannibal perked up at the sound of their offer. What could they want? “Y/n has a sister. Beautiful girl, 34, and she’s a doctor.” Your Mom raised her eyebrows up and down repeatedly.
Hannibal cocked his eyebrow up, not understanding it. “She’s rich! What does Y/n have to offer with that shitty art?” Hannibal didn’t like the way they were downgrading you. He didn’t like the way they were talking about you and your career.
“Excuse me?” Your parents looked at him, a little shocked by the change of his voice. “What my wife is saying is we want you to marry Y/n’s sister instead, that way she can have a famous chef husband!” Your Dad summed it all up as if it would make it even better.
Hannibal stood up and made his way to the kitchen, grabbing a knife. “Well, what if I love Y/n, and want to be with her?” The faint scoff could be heard. “Why would you want anything to do with her? She relies on art as her job, she doesn't know how to cook, she looks like a homeless person— I mean everything is wrong with her.”
Hannibal heard enough. With him meeting face to face with your parents, he held the knife up and lounged it in the body. He took turns between the two, stabbing them. Their screaming could probably be heard from miles away. There would be no surprise if the cops were called.
He kept stabbing them repeatedly, until there was no sound, except the knife meeting their cut open guts. He was on the ground, over their bodies at this point, wanting them to be dead.
The sound of a door opening made him turn around. You stood there looking down at your dead parents and bloody Hannibal with a knife in his hand. You walked over and helped him up. “Thank you.”Hannibal placed a kiss on your lips and pulled back.
“I respect you, My Love. I’ll never let anyone disrespect you again.”
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alhaith4ms · 1 year
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modern au! alhaitham x reader
you and alhaitham share a spotify account that you both split the payment in half on. it's nice not having to listen to those annoying ads whenever you're listening to music, but it's also annoying how you can't play the music you want when he's using the account.
"why are we only paying for one account for the both of us? we can always just get the one for two people and still be able to afford it, haitham." you wondered one day as you both cuddle in bed.
alhaitham only glanced up at you from his book, pretty teal eyes flickering up to meet your gaze. "it saves us more money that way, and i tend to be the only one who uses our account most of the time, so paying for the duo would be considered a waste."
you didn't know how to react to that, but you knew he had a point (he always has a point). "and what if i suddenly decide to stop paying for my half of the payment?"
"you won't do that. you love me too much to let me pay for our shared account by myself." he countered, and you could see a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "...and i know how you can't do the laundry without your throwback playlist that you always sing along to."
you balked as you felt your cheeks grow warm. "you said you couldn't hear me singing!"
alhaitham couldn't help but let out a laugh as you continue to speak, clearly embarrassed that he's been listening to your off-key (your words, not his) singing every weekend.
but in truth, althaitham has a separate spotify account that you don't know of on this laptop that he rarely uses.
the only reason why alhaitham continues to refuse getting the duo account for the both of you is because he likes to check on what music you're listening to throughout the day when he's at work and so that he can save the songs you always listen to on his separate account to listen to as well — it makes him feel comforted and that you're beside him on days that he's swamped with work or on days you have to spend apart from one another.
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buckys-little-belle · 4 months
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Chapter Three - Raindrops and Goodbyes
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SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW. 
Warnings - Talks about past (bad) Caregivers, talks about fear of abandonment, some heavy negative feelings, comparing oneself to others, fluff but ends in some angst, Bub eats, food mentioned, Bub cries 
Word Count - 1751
Note - Sorry this took so long to get out! Things got hectic, and crappy, and I haven't been able to edit, or format, or really write lately! Luckily things are going well and I won't start school till the 16th so I'm hoping to get some stuff out in the next week or so! Part four will be posted tomorrow! I can't leave us on a sad note for too long! I just can't!!
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Y/n always hated wearing her yellow raincoat, the material feeling odd against her skin, and the crinkle of the fabric was never music to her ears. But on days like this, grey skies and heavy raindrops falling to the ground, she had no choice but to suit up. Her matching rain boots on, allowing her to splash in any puddle she felt needed to be played in. 
As she neared the Cafe she got excited, Bucky said they would go to the park today, and although it’s running she has hopes that he’ll let them go anyways, her umbrella overhead creating enough of a dry patch to maybe, at the least, run around in the mud without catching a nasty cold. 
“Mr!” She cheered as she walked in, something she did every time she saw him sat at his usual table, early as always. “I has something for you!” She smiled big as she unzipped the front pocket of her backpack “Here.” Her smile grew as Bucky’s mirrored hers, the small baggie with flowers printed on it full of chocolate chip cookies her pride and joy. 
“You made these?” 
“Yes!” Y/n says still standing, ready to leave for the park wherever Bucky is ready. Shifting her weight from one foot to another, growing impatient. “All on my own!” She cheered, proud of her baked goods. “Park now?” Bub asked, her smile still huge, both hands grasping the straps of her bag, now back on her back. 
“It’s raining, Bub.” Bucky frowned, causing Bub to mirror his expression. “But we’ll go next time, okay?” He asked, his hands immediately helping Y/n out of her raincoat, the buttons soon undone. 
“But you promised?” Y/n frowned, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion. “I wanted to go to d’park.” Y/n held back her tears, though she wished to stomp her foot and throw a small fit, she didn’t know Bucky well enough to truly let him see her little side completely. So instead she fixed her clothing after her coat had been taken off and sat in her usual seat. 
“I know I promised, Bub.” She smiled at the nickname. “But I brought us a fun game to play today.” He was quickly making her forget about the park trip altogether, now excited to see whatever game he had brought. She hoped it wasn’t UNO, she sucked at that. “Here.” He said as he placed a game on the table, the pink and blue of Candyland making Y/n let out a small squeal. 
“I love Candyland!” She grabbed the box and bounced in her seat. “Can we play now?” She asked, her eyes turning to Bucky, him already looking at her. “Please?” She added on for good measure. 
The moment he nodded his head she opened the box, pulling all the pieces out. “Why don’t you set it up, and I get us some snacks?” Bucky asked, Y/n didn’t even look up at him, but nodded her head. Too busy pulling out the different characters. 
Y/n didn’t know how long it took Bucky to get snacks, but by the time he got back to the table she had created a whole plot amongst the characters and their kingdoms. “Here, Bub.” Bucky said as he placed a plate on the table. It was more than the usual cake pop he got her, though one still sat on the plate. This time he got vegetables and dip, some goldfish, and a cup of juice. 
“Thank you, Mr.” Y/n smiled up at him, grabbing a celery stick and dipping it. “Can I be the ice cream cone?” She asked, showing him the character she had in her hand. Bucky nodded but stayed sitting. “You need’a pick a lil guy.” She pointed to the characters situated around the board. 
“Right.” He said, his expression growing serious as he looked each one over. “I’ll pick this one, he looks tough.” Y/n broke out into a fit of giggles, the marshmallow definitely not a ‘tough guy’. 
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They got to playing the game, Y/n winning two times in a row. She wasn’t surprised, while she knew it was all down to luck, she had played the game a ton of times so clearly the Candyland gods liked her more than Bucky. “Are you cold bub?” Bucky asked her, making her realise she was shivering slightly.
She knew not bringing a sweater might be a bad idea, but she thought they were going to the park. “Um, yeah.” She nodded then shrugged her shoulders. She hoped he wouldn’t make her go back home and get one, she only had so much time in a day to spend at the cafe. “Bu’ I’m all good, can we play again?” She asked, moving their pieces back to the star. 
“Yeah we can play again, just wait a second.” Bucky stood up, she wondered where he was going, but instead of leaving to grab something or go to the bathroom he stood at the side of her booth with a black sweater in hand. “Hands up, Bub.” He said, holding the sweater out. 
“I don’ need your sweater, wha’ if yous get cold?” She asked, not sure if her being so comfortable around Bucky her little side couldn’t help but come out now was a good thing or a bad thing. While she was 100% sure Bucky was a safe guy to be around, she didn’t want to get too attached to him just in case. 
“I won’t get cold.” He answered in a softer voice. She knew he was special, that’s what everyone in the newspapers said, that he’s indestructible. But she’d hate to be the person who gave a super soldier a cold because she took his sweater. “Bub.” His voice drew her out of her worrying. He was now crouched down so they were eye level. “I won’t get cold, but you’re shivering.” He didn’t wait for her to put her arms up, instead just putting it over her head and waiting for her to put her arms through on her own.
“Tanks.” Bub murmured, looking at Bucky with a small smile. She was thankful for the sweater, now warm, but she still worried that she was too much to handle. He had given her a lot, crayons, colouring pages, so much of his time, and now his sweater. She hadn’t given him anything but cookies that she hoped tasted okay. 
“Why don’t we play again?” Bucky asked as he settled back into his seat. “I can feel it, I’m going to win this one.” He teased, she shook her head, he had no clue that the Candyland gods were on her side, and she hoped he would never know. 
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Y/n frowned as she saw Bucky pacing around outside. It had stopped raining but he said that they should wait till a sunny day to go out, because ‘everything would be slippery’. Buck’s phone had rung five hours ago, well maybe two minutes ago, but it felt like forever as she just watched him pace with an unhappy look on his face. 
She grabbed the last few goldfish and got back to her colouring, when she had won for a third time Bucky had to quit, saying his ego couldn’t handle anymore. Y/n giggled at the memory. 
The doorbell rang out and she quickly turned, though her smile turned back into a frown when she saw Bucky’s sad expression. “I’m sorry, I have to go, Bub.” He said, his sad words said in a kind tone. 
“Oh, otay.” Y/n answered, watching him pack up his things. “Will you be back tomorrow?” She asked, her crayons laid on the table instead of in her hands. 
Bucky sighed, then sat down, his hands clasped on the table. “I’m going to be gone until next wednesday.” Y/n’s back straightened up, he’d be gone for nine days. That was a lot of time to be gone, and a lot of time for him to think and change his mind about her. 
“Oh, do you, do you wan’ your sweater back?” She asked, wiggling her hands out of the sleeves before Bucky got to her. His hands covering hers, a painful smile on his face. 
“You can keep it, I’ll get it back when I come back okay?” Y/n nodded. “I’ll put my phone number in your phone, and I’ll text you if I’m going to be back later than wednesday, okay?” She nodded her head, at least he wasn’t just up and leaving, he was giving her a point of contact if needed. She handed him her phone, watching as he took forever to type out his name and number. It was a little silly to watch. “I won’t be able to text or call you while I’m away.” He admitted. “But you can text me all you want and I’ll read them when I’m back.” Bucky offered, though she knew she wouldn’t do that, she wouldn’t bother him while he was away, she knew people hated that. 
She just nodded her head, watching him as he put his coat and backpack on. “Stay safe.” She whispered as he stood in front of her, ready to leave. 
“And you be good, Bub.” Bucky whispered back, and then he was gone. She watched him get into his jeep and drive away. She knew her mind was being silly when she couldn’t help but think he wouldn’t come back, but it didn’t mean it stopped that train of thought. 
She knew deep down that he had to leave, he didn’t want to, but he had to. She knew he wasn’t like the other people who became her friends and then left and never came back, she knew that, somewhere in her mind she knew that. But she still couldn’t help it as a few tears slipped down her cheeks as she cleaned up. She couldn’t help but let out a small sad noise as she put on her coat, and she couldn’t help but sob the moment she got home and into bed. 
“He had to go save people, he was needed by the world because he's a good guy, that’s why he left.” She whispered to herself all night, but she still felt as though he had left because of something she did.
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ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴍɪꜱꜱ ᴘɪᴘᴇᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ (J.M)
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*vision bored doesn't describe readers' looks it describes the vibes of the story*
Pairing: football-player!Joel Miller x golden-girl!Fem!Reader
POV: This story is told through the POV of high school senior Joel Miller
Summary: Joel's girl lives in his dreams and in the house next door. He's always known her, and he's always wanted her, but in ApplePine, whose dream does she not haunt? Now He has a chance that He's been looking forward to all his life. This can't fail. He won't let someone like her slip away.
Warnings/tags: Kind of toxic undertones, mentions of a bad home life (reader), church, idolization, nerves, kissing and making out, small Texas town with very traditional values, climbing and watching people through windows, Joel is a Lil bit of a stalker, BAD American football talk. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME
WC: 4.5k
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On most Saturdays and after church on Sundays, she could be found working at the local ice cream shop. Occasionally, if there wasn't a football game, she would also work on Fridays. She was a well-known figure in our small town - being the girl next door, head cheerleader, and leading member of the student council. Her many accomplishments included winning the title of Little Miss Apple Pine, which only added to her popularity. Many of us admired her from afar, watching her ride her bike with friends, interact with the little kids in the neighborhood, or simply be in her element with a book in hand and a Walkman playing some music.
It was difficult to tell what music she listened to, but I'd like to think it was hard rock, maybe Guns N' Roses. However, her sweet nature suggested it was more likely to be Bon Jovi or AC/DC. Despite her bright persona, we all knew that she had a tough time at home, our houses were right next to each other too It was sad but there's only so much a loud TV can cover.
We attend the same school and ride the same bus together. We have chemistry class as well as lunch B together. Additionally, we share gym and math classes. I have noticed that she is quieter in math class and doesn't answer questions as quickly. In math class, she sits three seats ahead of me, and during lunch, she sits six seats away from me. Her round lunch table is located ten tables away from mine, and it's always occupied by a few cheerleaders and jocks who are considered acceptable, unlike me who often gets thrown off the field for hitting refs because of not knowing if  I'm coming or going. Compared to them, she seems to be in another world, like a cool autumn day in the middle of a hot Texas summer.
As the chemistry class began, Mr. McMory walked into the classroom with his glasses resting on the tip of his nose. He had only undone the top button of his shirt, showing some long curly grey chest hairs — utterly gross if you ask me. We all watched as he walked to the whiteboard at the front of the classroom. He clasped his hands together behind his back and stopped before turning to face the class.
"Now, as most of you probably know, we will need to form a new set of lab partners for this semester. However, to keep things fair so everyone gets a chance of getting matched with whom You would prefer, I've decided to have you all write your names on a small piece of paper and put them in this box. Once I've finished passing them out, I will draw two student names from the box at random, and those two will be your partners for this semester."
Without having to pause, Mr. McMory spoke clearly. This routine was something he did every marking period, four times a year, for 30 years. The memories of the previous marking period memories flooded my mind, where Jason Duly and Billy Holiday tried to bribe Gaby Michelle to give up her seat so that they could sit next to our classmate, the charming "I trust that you all understand the process now?" Mr. McMory continued. Once no one raised their hands to question what he said, he walked back to the front and handed out the small pieces of paper to everyone. "Now you have two minutes to write your names on the paper, then place it into the box. Once you are all finished, I will begin the randomized selection."
Chaos began to take place across the room with various bets being placed and trades being arranged like a market in the middle of a jungle, I wrote my name on the slip of paper without a thought. It was a meaningless task to me, as I would have been fine with getting anyone as my lab partner. In the middle sat our Pipe Dream, seemingly clueless to it all, while these students scrambled like mad to gain the favor of their desired partners, and the professor seemed unaware of all the action taking place in the classroom.
The chaos of the class was suddenly drowned out by Mr. McMory yelling out to have students start putting their slips into the box. As the box was quickly getting more and more full, the class started to become more and more silent and calm as no one wanted to be one of the ones not getting the partner they wanted even if they all wanted the same one our darling Miss pipedream isn't only perfect in every way but she's also incredibly smart.
Mr. McMory walked to the front of the classroom and stood in front of the whiteboard. He held the box and a red whiteboard marker. "No changing partners unless both parties are in agreement," he said as he paused and placed the box on a stool in front of him. He then pulled out the first two names. "Gaby and Hannah," he announced, causing a small gasp from some students. Mr. McMory placed the paper down and wrote the names on the board. There was a moment of silence before a low murmur began to spread throughout the classroom Mr. McMory then pulled out another two slips from the box and announced the next pairs of names: "Billy and Jillian, Jason and Cory." As each pair was announced, the two people were immediately surrounded by cheers of excitement or groans of disappointment. Some students could be overheard saying things like "no way!" and "I can't believe this!" and "Are we sure it's fair?" There were a few complaints here and there that their partner was not who they wanted, but Mr. McMory quickly cut them off, saying, "No changing partners unless both parties are in agreement, understood?"
As I stood watching the chaos break loose behind me, I couldn't help but chuckle at how quickly everything was unfolding. However, my laughter came to a sudden halt when Mr. McMory announced me and a stranger as partners.No, not a stranger, It was the girl who seemed to have it all, the girl who had effortlessly made her way through every aspect of the school and had become something of a legend. She was the girl next door, the one every boy wanted, and the only one I was enamored with at the slightest glance in her direction. My heart skipped a beat as I looked over the crowd and saw her smiling brightly at me. Time seemed to slow down as the rest of the world faded away. It was as if the universe was just waiting for us to get to know each other. My nervousness quickly turned into an adrenaline rush as I became more and more excited. It was an opportunity I couldn't pass up, a chance to turn my dreams into reality and finally figure her out.
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On the bus, I noticed her again. We made eye contact but didn't speak. She sat with her friend Sally Handson until she got off at her stop. However, I didn't expect her to move over and sit in the same seat as me.
"You're Joel, right?" she asked me before kindly offering her hand to shake.
"That's me," I smiled as I gently took her hand in mine and shook it. Our skin connected, and I felt a slight tremor in my hand before letting go, not wanting to make the situation any more awkward. I looked back up to see her, and she seemed to be just as nervous as I felt. The silence seemed to linger on for a moment before she spoke again.
"I just wanted to ask if you've had a chance to look at the assignment yet?"
I took a moment to gather my thoughts before speaking. "No, actually, I'm not very good at chemistry. I was probably going to copy off of you, to tell you the truth," I said, trying to make a joke, but struggling to hide the fact that it was true.
She smiled brightly, showing off her pearly white teeth. "Like all football players. It's okay though, I can help you study sometime if you'd like?"
As she spoke, my heart skipped a beat and my cheeks flushed. The offer of her help flooded my mind with different scenarios, from spending time with her after school to studying together at the library or even hosting study groups at our houses. I chuckled nervously and nodded my head.
The sudden stop of the bus snapped me back to reality, and a thought raced through my mind. Should I ask to walk her home? The offer seemed so appealing, and I was filled with possibilities of getting to know her even better. It was time to take the chance, but I had to fight the nervousness building inside me.
"Hey, are you walking to your house? Because I was just going to ask if...if I could walk you home?" I spoke the words carefully, fearing that I might mess up and ruin the moment. I fiddled with the straps of my backpack, feeling my heart pound in my chest as I waited for her response.
She smiled kindly at me. "Yes, and I would love that. Do you know which house?"
"I do," I said with a slightly more confident tone than before. I felt myself calming down as the idea of walking home together became more real. She began to take in the neighborhood around us, and I thought it was a perfect time to start a conversation.
"So, this is where you live?"
She giggled, and her laughter was infectious. I couldn't help but smile. "Joel, you and I have lived in the same neighborhood since we were newborns. We're neighbors for goodness sake, no need to be so formal with me."
She was right; I was overthinking our interactions. We had been neighbors for as long as I could remember. "Oh yeah...I suppose you have a point. I guess my nervousness made me go blank like that. I'm just not used to seeing you when you're not out on the field with your cheer squad." I chuckled, feeling my nerves die down even more as I looked over at her and relaxed a bit more.
"I understand it's hard not to picture me like that, and you as well, Joel. You're violent on the field. I'm pretty sure that referee from Tentown had a broken nose," she tries to make conversation. 
The mention of the game in Tentown makes me chuckle a bit. That was the first game in the league where I was allowed to play, and I suppose my desire to prove myself ended with me getting a bit carried away. The thought of the ref's nose makes me chuckle a bit more as I couldn't help but feel bad for the ref. 
"Yeah, I think you're right about that. But that's just how it is, right? The game is pretty brutal. I can't play without getting a little carried away." 
She thinks for a second and then says, "Maybe that's why you're always benched, along with Tommy? Speaking of your brother, where is he? Oh, and how are poor freshmen? I heard the older football players are being a little mean."
The question about my benching for games suddenly brings back my nervous energy, and I immediately feel uncomfortable talking about it. "That's probably one of the reasons for it, yeah..." I sigh as the mention of my brother and some of the team's hazing of the freshman brings a frown to my face.
"It pisses me off how they treat some of the freshmen like that. I don't see why they can't just treat them like the rest of the team..." I pause mid-sentence as the thought comes to my mind.
"I feel so bad for the poor freshman. They do the same thing on the cheer team," she said. We stopped at the crossing signal, and I was surprised by how well she could relate to what I was describing. It dawned on me that she may have experienced it more than I had considering how involved she is in cheer. We waited for the light to turn green, and I smiled at her.
"We should set up a study date sometime soon. After all, you said you're not that good at chemistry?" she said as we got closer to her house. I was thrilled at the possibility of spending more time with her.
"Yeah, I think that's a good idea. I'll certainly need the help," I chuckled. She walked ahead of me with a sweet little glide in her step, making me have to catch up to her as we continued walking.
"Which days work for you?" she asked, opening her backpack and taking out a pen and paper. "Oh, and write down your landline number." I replied, "I'm pretty much free all week, so just let me know what works for you." Her request for my landline number made my heart skip a beat as it reminded me of when she offered to help me at her place.
"How about Friday after school since there's no game? We can meet at my place," she suggested as we stood outside her front gate. "That works great for me! We can discuss our study plans and maybe even study together if you're up for it," I replied excitedly. "Your place sounds perfect, and I just want to say thank you," I added, feeling grateful for her help. She smiled and said, "Of course, Joel." Then she walked into her yard and house, waving goodbye.
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Friday couldn't come any quicker in my mind. I couldn't get Miss Applepine, Cheery Pie, Pipe Dream out of my head at all. The more we talked in class, the more I fell under her spell and the more I wanted to know... She was a mystery, and I wanted to be the first to hear everything she was willing to tell.
now stand at her front door. I rang the doorbell eagerly waiting for her to answer. She opened the door; she looked so pretty. "Come on in, Joel," she opened the door to let me in. In all my years of being neighbors, I always wondered what her house looked like, and to be honest, her house is less organized than I thought.
"Sorry about the mess. You know, it's just me and my dad, and I'm a little behind on chores... um... studying," she began to ramble but stopped herself. It was rather cute; it made me smile even more.
"Come on upstairs to my room. I have all my books and everything up there," she led me up to her bedroom. It was so normal - band posters, photos of her family, school items, her numerous awards, and her window looked directly into my room.
As we entered her room, I couldn't resist glancing over to her window again. It felt like this was the closest I could get to seeing inside her home for A Long time and now I'm inside the looking glass. I took a seat right next to her bed as she went to her bookshelf to collect her textbooks. As we started reviewing the material, a wave of butterflies fluttered in my stomach. I occasionally stole a glance at her while she flipped through different articles, but I couldn't hold my stare for long.
"Are these all the books we're going to be using?" I asked as she placed her biology and chemistry books on her desk. I watched her lean over, her eyes almost glued to the books as she read through them. "Yeah, these are the ones. I just want to make sure that we're both prepared for this project. It's about how we think the universe began, so lots to cover" she replied with a soft smile that brought me back to reality for a moment as I gazed into her eyes.
"I'm ready to start studying. So, what do you want to start with?" she asked as I sat down. She looked at me with a sweet smile and thought for a moment before responding, "Do you think we should start with chemistry? I know it's the one you struggle with the most."
"Sure, that works," I replied excitedly she remembered that from the walk my cheeks got a little pink as I opened the book and looked over her shoulder to find the section she had mentioned. I was determined to pay close attention this time, feeling more relaxed thanks to her calm and collected presence.
Every little gesture or movement she made caught my full attention like a spark in my head. Her adorable smile and the way she played with her hair made it difficult to resist complimenting her. When she asked if she could ask me something, it snapped me out of my trance for a moment. I replied with a simple "Yeah, sure."
As she playfully hit my shoulder, her touch felt light as a feather. I couldn't help but smile, sitting up and crossing my legs like she was doing. Moving my book from my lap, I placed it on the end of her bed. "Why can't you focus?" she asked, and my heart started racing. I didn't want to tell her the truth, so I lied, "No reason..." Trying to act casual, I could feel myself blushing as she hit my shoulder and called me out. It was because of her - her sweet smile, small gestures, and the way she sat cross-legged on her bed - that I couldn't focus. But I couldn't just outright admit that I had a massive crush on her.
"We can take a break?" she offered, and I felt even more nervous. The idea of taking a break meant a chance to talk about things other than studying and a chance to just hang out with her. I was hoping that she felt the same way and that she also couldn't help but notice the tension that was building between us. I sat back up and joked, "You're saying that as if I would deny the offer." My heart was racing, and I couldn't help but wonder if she could feel the same tension I did.
As we continued to talk, I made sure to continue moving closer to her every chance that I could get. The heat coming from her body filled me with a new sense of boldness as I tried to make my actions more noticeable. "I mean who can blame me, when I'm sitting across from someone so charming..." I said as I leaned forward a little, making the distance between us almost nonexistent.
"Have you been studying for long?" she asked me as she laid back on her bed, making it clear that she had no plans to get up anytime soon. As the conversation shifted towards more flirtatious topics, I started to blush slightly. "Do you mean studying?..." I replied to her, but even I could hear that my voice had taken on a flirty tone.
"Yes, studying, or are you just as brain-dead as the other football players?" she joked. "Hey now, what are you implying?" I responded teasingly as I moved closer to her. As we talked more, the tone of the conversation became increasingly flirtatious, and I struggled to hold back my blush. "You're the one who keeps saying we should take a break. Sounds like you don't want to study..." I said, trying to pretend to focus on a book.
But even as we continued discussing the material or pretending to, I noticed her eyes drifting toward me as she glanced up and down my body. It made me feel a little uneasy, but also excited as I wondered what she was thinking. Could she feel the same tension between us that I felt?
"Hmmm, maybe I don't. But you're the one who said yes to the break." she grinned mischievously as I scooted slightly closer to her, looking up and staring into her eyes. "You make it kind of hard to pay attention..."
As we continued to talk The heat coming from her body filled me with a sense of boldness as I attempted to make my actions more noticeable. "I mean, who can blame me when I'm sitting across from someone so charming?" I said as I leaned forward a little, making the distance between us almost nonexistent.
"I'm flattered. I'll take that as a compliment since you're also very kind with your words," she said as I moved even closer to her. We were almost too close for comfort, but I couldn't resist getting even closer. "I thought I was charming, but you are even more charming than I imagined," I told her, leaning in even closer until I was practically touching her. I felt like I was crossing a line, but I couldn't help myself. Her eyes seemed to be blushing, and I felt a sudden burst of confidence. I brought my hand up to her side, almost touching her waist. "You are an interesting girl," I whispered.
"You find me interesting?" she asked, smiling shyly and looking down. I could tell she was blushing and feeling a little embarrassed, but I decided to take a risk and leaned in even closer. Our faces were almost touching, and I could feel her breath on my face. I looked up at her and felt a rush of emotions.
"I didn't know you were so easy to read," I said as I leaned even closer to her, this time the tiny distance between us was nothing but air. I couldn't help but feel that feeling building inside me again as I watched her face grow redder and redder as it appeared to be a little closer every time. "I'm sure most guys would be more than happy to take advantage of a beautiful girl like you.”
“Are you most guys? Should I be worried? I'm not a one-and-done girl, Joel…” she said, showing insecurity for what seems to be the first time. As she asked me if I was 'most guys', I couldn't help but feel my heart sink for a brief second as I heard her insecurity, but I quickly recovered and smiled as I looked down at her. My hands slowly wrapped around her waist as I leaned even closer. "Oh please, you think I'm going to leave someone as beautiful and kind as you just like that. You aren't a one-and-done girl, you're... you're an angel." I slowly leaned forward so our faces were just a hair's width apart. I gazed into her eyes, lost in the moment, when she suddenly exclaimed, "An Angel?" Her voice was soft, yet full of wonder, as if she had just seen something magical. She was so close to me that I could feel her breath on my face, and I couldn't help but notice the way her face immediately flushed up with red. Her eyes quickly looked down, as if to distract herself from her sudden burst of emotion.
I kept looking at her, waiting for her to look back up at me. I leaned down just a bit more, my heart racing with anticipation, as my lips were barely an inch from hers when she finally decided to look back up. I couldn't help but feel the surge of joy rushing through my body as I saw the way her eyes slowly opened and she looked back up to face me.
The way her cheeks were still flushed and the shy, but happy look on her face was exactly what I needed. It was the perfect moment as I leaned in for the kiss. Our lips met in a sweet and simple embrace, and I felt a warmth spread through my body. It was like time had stopped, and nothing else mattered in the world except for that moment. I held her close as we kissed, and I knew deep down inside that this was the start of something special.
The kiss started gentle but with each second that passed it started to become more intense. The heat of her body and the way her hands ran through my hair was making my heart skip a few beats as I started to wish I could pull her into an even deeper kiss. I didn't want to overwhelm her though so I tried to keep it simple, although it was hard to keep my hands from finding every part of her body that I could. She's not someone who wants a one-time thing and I'll do everything I can to make sure she doesn't think all I want is sex.
We disengaged when we heard her front door slam shut. "That's my dad!" she exclaimed, her urgency evident. "He can't know you're here." She swiftly rose, pulling me up with her, both of us breaking away from the kiss as she hurried us along. Her pace was so brisk that it took a moment for me to catch on before I scrambled up. "Why can't he know I'm here?" I whispered, trying to avoid any noise as her dad ascended the stairs.
"Because he'll flip if he finds a guy in my room. Though, it's not like it's the first time I've had a guy over," she rushed, steering us towards her bedroom window. "Seriously? You've done this before?" I questioned? but that conversation could wait as we reached her bedroom window, which she promptly opened, urging me outside.
"Well, there was this one time Dad caught me, and he nearly lost it. I promised I wouldn't do it again, and he dropped it," she explained hurriedly, her insistence on getting me out the window starting to concern me. I trusted she knew what she was doing, but I wasn't quite prepared for what came next.
"Are you seriously making me climb out your window?" I protested.
"Don't be a wimp. You'll be fine. You're not the first guy I've had over," she reassured, though her words didn't ease my nerves. The distance from her window to the ground seemed to grow as she tugged me closer to the edge.
As I began to climb out, my foot slipped, and I fell with a hard thud and a loud squeak.
Despite the throbbing pain in my ankle, the walk home afforded me ample time to ponder, and my thoughts continuously circled back to her. I couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right, as if she was keeping something from me. If she's had numerous guys over before, why the sudden worry about her dad catching her? Was I just another casual fling to her? My mind brimmed with inquiries for my elusive "little miss pipedream."
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lowkeyrobin · 1 month
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hello! i absolutely love your writing and i was wondering if you could do something with mcyts, especially slimecicle and foolish (if you can’t think of anything for them don’t feel pressured! i don’t mind), and anyone else you want to write for x a reader that has a career in musical theatre? maybe something about them seeing shows reader is in and just overall hyping them up? feel free to ignore this, it’s just a little thought i had! have a good day 🫶
oooo yeah sure!! ; idk much ab musical theater but I tried lmao ; also added tommy bc I had leftover ideas + I was mostly only focused on charlie and foolish lol
MCYT ; musical theater
includes ; tommyinnit, slimecicle, & foolish gamers
warnings ; language
masterlist
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TOMMYINNIT
"mean girls musical?? the fuck"
"my show is better, L"
he's secretly your biggest fan let's be honest
CHARLIE SLIMECICLE
he'll sit off somewhere you won't see him after the first night so he can just stare at you without you noticing, since you like to tease him about it afterward
taking pictures of you then posting them during the show like hyping you up and talking about the plot
there's one of you singing and looking up toward the sky and he posted a tweet w a pic that says "me praying to god" and it dramatically left the mcyt circle 💀
he'll go and watch the source material before show dates just to see what you're performing and he'll talk about the plot with you
"why the hell are you walking down the yellow brick road?? THERES AN EVIL WIZARD, GO THE OTHER WAY???"
he shuts up immediately when you're practicing vocals at home just to listen to you
sometimes he'll buy extra tickets last minute to get you guys some more money LMAO
he definitely helped with prop making idc
at least painting the backgrounds and set things
your biggest supporter istg
always hyping you up
helps you improv act within the character to get used to the character themselves to not make them another version of you
he can sing too, so yk damn well he's helping you sing/getting into another character to help you rehearse the singing parts at home
shows up to every show to cheer you and your colleagues on
he's all smiles and like in a trance watching you on stage
like literal stars in his eyes
after every show he gives you the biggest hug and literally bombards you with compliments
he's secretly taking pictures and recording the whole way through, he doesn't care about those rules /j
attempts to try on your outfit/s at home if you get to take them with you as well
he can literally pull off anything wtf
it's like that video of mckenna grace and aryan simhadri where they're both wearing red dresses and they both killed it like?? okay, power couple who??
he's always posting shit ab you online as well, pictures videos, just talking about how cool you are etc
you two do theater karaoke every once in a while on stream and its the funniest thing
FOOLISH GAMERS
"how do you sing like that??"
"magic"
also tries on your outfits 💀
if you're in newsies... it's over
he seems like the biggest newsies fan for some reason LMAO
he's always hyping you up before rehearsals/shows and showing off his support for you ❤️
he is mesmerized by your performance, hearts and stars in his eyes the whole time
you almost went on stage w his snapback on because you were messing around with your friends backstage 💀
the second you got a part in the mean girls musical, he was jumping up and down
he'd probably never seen the musical but 100% watched the original movie 9477391 times
you show off your theater singing to him every once in a while and he's just like 🤨😨
he gives the biggest hugs after a performance
"Oh my God that was awesome!!"
if there's any merch, yk damn well he's buying it
he'll watch your performances on stream as well 😭 just to show you off
your contact name is probably "Broadway star"
you have to make Broadway Baby jokes after that (broadway baby was abby lee millers dog back in the day, only dance moms haters would get it 😔🙏)
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cl0ckworkpuppet · 5 months
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time for my monthly mp3 player propaganda post!
yall. don't fucking stream music off of youtube or spotify. they pay their creators shit. the most generous estimate i could find was artists being paid $1 for every 200 streams (0.5¢ per stream), and unless you're listening to songs on an album thousands times in total, it helps tremendously more to just. buy their albums or subscribe to a patreon-like service for them
mp3 players are laughably inexpensive (you can get a decent one with bluetooth for like $40-50 and you can get away with even less if you forego some features), many of them are drag-and-drop, no ads, decent enough sound quality for the average person, unlimited skips, track selection, regular play and shuffle, playlists, being able to shut off your screen, and more importantly, ALL OF THIS IS AVAILABLE WITHOUT A SUBSCRIPTION. i've always been an avid hater of subscription models. there are some things where it's understandable, but you shouldn't lose access to basic QOL features just because you can't or won't fork over $10-15 a month.
"b-b-but $50 is so expensive!" WRONG. $50 (which is more than i've EVER spend on a single mp3 player) is the equivalent to 5 months on spotify premium without discounts. if you can afford that, it's worth investing into a device that can last you literal years if you get a good one and take good care of it
"but i don't wanna carry around another device!" fair enough, but these things are small enough to fit in tiny pockets (mine fits snugly in the watch pocket of my jeans) and are typically light enough to not be burdensome. if you can carry around your phone, you can carry around an mp3 player
"what if people think i'm weird for having outdated technology" let them. it's worth it in my opinion if it means i get to listen to music ad-free. the most I've ever gotten was "wooooah bro's got the dinosaur tech" and i just thought that was funny personally
"but what if the artist collapses without a constant stream of money!!! i'm not supporting the artist!!!!!" companies try to pay as little as they can get away with to artists. most of that money goes to the CEO and other higher-ups.
"but piracy is bad!" Piracy is a Crime. However, downloading youtube videos/audio for your own PERSONAL, NON-COMMERCIAL USE and NOT REDISTRIBUTING THEM is legal (generally, in the US, check your laws, i am not a lawyer, not legal advice, blah blah blah). besides, i never said you had to pirate your music. in fact, i encourage you to buy the albums of and support your favourite artists in other ways. some artists might even provide links for people to download their songs for free in high quality anyway
not gonna link products just in case someone thinks i'm a shill. but literally just look up "mp3 player" on your search engine or shopping site of choice and find something that doesn't look like it'll fall apart if you breathe on it too hard
seriously guys. if you listen to music more than like a few hours a week, and you don't get all of your music from livestreams or radios (although mine can connect to AM/FM radio), consider investing in an mp3 player. i tried out using one regularly in fall of 2021, and I haven't looked back. don't let companies drain subscription money from you
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lunaekalenda · 9 months
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The soft elevator music, the slow movement of it and being inside with no other than Satoru Gojo is irritating you to levels you didn't knew you could reach.
The fact that both your offices are on the last floor is an inconvenient in case you need to bring heavy stuff with you, as you do right now, and as Satoru was doing when he arrived to the elevator area at the exact time you did. You entered first and he followed you, pushing the cart with the new printer your boss gifted every single one of you, and the one you're taking to your office now as well. You raise a brow towards the white-haired man when he tries to enter after you.
"No, stay here. We're gonna make it stop. We're carrying too many heavy stuff."
"Come on, sweet, it's an elevator. It never failed before and Suguru and me definitely put inside here a bigger quantity of things. Make room for me."
He pushes his cart inside, putting it next to yours, as he rests his back on the elevator wall next to you. In fact, there's still a lot of space, but because the elevator is supposed to carry people, not industrial printers.
Adding both of you, the carts, the insane quantity of paper boxes you're carrying and the obvious machines, you're sure that the maximum weight is long forgotten. You sigh, praying for the elevator to arrive to the 14º floor safely, or else, you'll end strangling Satoru for his lack of security.
The numbers on the elevator screen move slowly, and the music keeps playing low. Satoru hums the song as he moves his feet to the rhythm against the floor. You're not really sure about your feelings towards him. Somehow, he makes you nervous with his shameless flirting and sudden pet-names, and still, he seems to have a talent to make you angry.
"Satoru, stop." you ask him. It's getting on your nerves, and you feel as if his taps on the floor were decreasing the elevator's speed.
"Hm?" he turns towards you, following your gaze until it connects with his shoe. "Oh, come on, it won't stop because of some innocent taps." This said, Satoru taps on the floor again. "See, nothing happ-"
The elevator makes a sudden movement followed by a power outage, leaving you with the emergency light on and possibly stopped in the middle of the tunnel of the elevator, somewhere between floors 7 and 8. You look at Satoru with rage, but he shows a soft smile towards you.
"You, idiot." you press your finger against his chest. "It's all your fault, if you waited your damn turn..."
"We wouldn't be bonding this way, darling." he interrupts you with a smile. "Maybe it's an opportunity of life to get to know each other better. You know, as a date." He raises his brows in a suggestive way and you sigh.
"Usually, people don't have dates when they're hanging from a tension wire 20-something meters above the floor, were there's a possibility of ending squashed." Satoru lets a clear laugh escape, as he looks at you.
"Nothing's gonna happen, Miss Worrying. They'll come and take us to our floor soon." The elevator gives another abrupt movement, and Satoru's hand takes your finger, the one you were still pointing against him, to bring your body close to his before crouching with you between his arms. The initial surprise makes way for shyness, finding you hugged by him as he checks the ceiling. "It doesn't seem dangerous, maybe they're already working on it..." he murmurs. Your gaze is fixed on his profile as he keeps looking up. Strong jaw and beautiful blue eyes checking the structure. You quickly take his arms away, without success. "Come here. It's my fault, so I'll protect you."
"I don't need you to protect me." You say, trying to put his body away, but he sighs.
"I know you don't need my protection. But you're scared, and it's normal." you look at him. His blue eyes are now fixed on you, his voice serious and his eyes full of truth. "After all, we're hanging 27 meters above the floor with an infimum possibility of surviving."
"Satoru!" you slap his chest quietly as he laughs softly, and even when you don't wanna admit it, his hug comforts you a little. His proximity makes the fear somehow sooth away, and you can feel his thumbs caressing your arms.
"You know, I have plenty of trust on the rescue team of the elevator company, but, in case they're not as skilled as I think, I would like to say something I've been wanting to tell you for a while." You look at him with terrified eyes. "Oh, sorry, sorry. No more mention of the situation we're currently in." He lets his back meet the wall again, long legs stretched forward and arms still around you, changing their position from your arms to your waist. "We've been working together for a time, side by side, cheek by jowl. I admire you as a professional, but I also admire you as a person." you're surprised by his words, expecting another lame joke from him. He seems serious when he speaks again. "I've... I've been trying to get you attention for a while now. In a more... romantic aspect." his pale skin blushes lightly under the mention of it. "Although, this elevator problem wasn't a plan for me to let you know that I like you, don't think I'll be jamming elevators every single time I need to say something important." He laughs softly, a nervous giggle. "It would be a problem if I had to stuck another one to ask for your hand in marriage."
The mention of marriage makes you fix your eyes on his. It's not a joke, it's not a relationship to see where it goes. He has plans of future, intentions of lasting long. He's serious about your liking, and he's serious about dating you. All the pet-names, all the tiny teases, all the times you've been irremediably sharing spaces with him weren't more than tries to let you know his feelings that catastrophically failed.
I've been trying to get your attention for a while.
You're in a loss of words while Satoru keeps his eyes on yours, sudden nervous by your silence.
"At least, I should have some points. I bet no other guy took you to a stuck elevator date." You're still sitting on his lap and his grip is secure on your waist, avoiding your body to move even an inch in case the elevator shakes again. You are about to answer him when the light returns and the doors open suddenly. Both of you realize your position, arms tangled and his body under yours. You're quick to stand up and you help Satoru to do so near you. Suguru, Kento, Utahime and the rest of your coworkers look at both of you with smiles of relief. Taking your carts and your printers, you listen to Masamichi's sermon on workplace safety before leaving for your own office. Once inside, you sigh, heart racing and hands trembling after the events. You weren't able to say anything back to Satoru, and you feel terribly wrong for that. He opened your heart for you and, still, you weren't able of giving him an answer.
Is love what you feel towards him? Longing to be by his side? It's true that he teases you and makes you kinda angry, but you always smile after chatting with him. He's a good coworker, and he's always alert on your needs, like the day you forgot your food and he went to get a extra sweet curry bowl for you, eating by your side at 5 p.m, when everyone should be working. Thinking better about it, you might reciprocate his feelings.
Feeling suddenly brave, you take your phone, and checking the messages app, you search his contact. Your fingers are quicker than your mind when your type.
"Wanna go grab dinner after work? I have something to tell you (without the risk of being squashed)"
His answer is quick, as if he had your chat open and he was waiting for it.
"Sure, sweet. Choose a place and i'll invite you (as a real, no-dangerous date, without hanging 27 meters above)"
His answer makes you smile as you book a table for two on his favorite sweet curry restaurant. On the room next to you, Satoru starts to work with the most luminous smile. None of you can't wait for dinner.
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kdyism · 1 year
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THE BOYFRIEND EXPERIENCE.
pairing. renjun x reader
genre + themes. fluff, idiots-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, fake dating!kind of, college!au kind of, suggestive.
wc. 8.398k / warn. mention of food/cooking, mild cussing, making out, tiktok ref (im sorry)
synopsis. enlisting you as his "someone i'm seeing" excuse, renjun tries to get his mom to stop asking him about his date for his cousin's wedding and in turn, it puts your already tired feelings for him in a loop.
yunn's text. when this happened so fast, it took a day and a half. reblog + comments are appreciated! hope you enjoy it, happy reading! (not proofread yet)
suggested music to listen along! hello, sunset by red velvet. 247 by stayc. it's yours by nct dream. prada by fr:eden. kiss kiss by shinee.
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Your eyes following Renjun as he argued with his mother regarding the same topic every time had become routine by the time a month was left for his cousin's wedding, you always hear the excuse, "I am seeing someone, I swear! but it's still not serious enough to bring them to a wedding!" he grumbles, kicking your poor carpet but you know there wasn't any mal intent because he was the one who painstaking went through all the reasonable options at Ikea to get you an aesthetically pleasing carpet without breaking your bank's back.
Renjun paces across your living room angsty with a deep frown on his face, nodding frustrated and you almost were curious about what his mother was saying for him to suddenly shut up and listen to her despite the begrudging expression he wore. He would often tell you about how much he loves his mother and how fighting with her always made him feel like he had to be showered in holy water to feel forgiven but when it came to his love life, no one is excused, not even the first love of his life.
"I know, I know, but come on you know I don't want to bring just anyone to this. If I introduce someone to you guys and break up before—like the fifth anniversary, I won't ever come back home," he sounds exasperated, locking his eyes with yours and you smile because you think he might stick to his words if he ever did, he had always been a stickler to what he did in front of his family's eyes.
The Renjun his family sees is a precious son, he drunkenly said one time and destroying that image of him would kill the innocent, law-abiding son in him forever and he would try to take over the world if that happens.
"I feel like taking that backpacking trip you were going on about now..." Renjun throws himself beside you on the sofa and you laugh at him, pushing yourself to the side to make space for him and he screams into your shoulder, quietly of course.
"When's the wedding?" you pass the flier you had bought from the tourist agency, pulling out your phone and opening up your gcal.
Pouting subtly at the flier, Renjun narrows his eyes at the cost of the trip and gasps, "Can you afford this trip? This is absurd—I retract my statement, I am not taking this trip," he crumbles the flier tossing it away and you inhale, stopping yourself from screaming and glare at him.
"That's my flier, you asshat!"
"I know you can't afford that, stop killing your savings!" he shouts back, holding his hands in front of him and pushing your clawing hands away, "I can take you to my hometown for cheaper than that," Renjun rolls his eyes, cleverly tossing out a suggestion that had been brewing in his mind for some time now.
It was maybe two weeks ago when he was on a call with his mother at home that he thought it up. What if he just took you to the wedding since his mother already suspected that something was up between the two of you. Lying to his dear mother does break his heart but his mother thinking he doesn't attract anyone breaks his own heart, for god's sake, she should know that all her good looks went to him.
Flitting your lashes at him, your lips apart and churning your entire face to express your disbelief, you added a scoff. "Um... would you mind, I don't know, speaking up,"
"I was only thinking," he quickly says, "You want a trip away from here and I need a person to show up with me in a place away from here," shrugging his shoulder nonchalantly, he takes your phone from your hand and scrolls down to December.
"You're going to visit your parents' house the last week of this month and I am leaving the first week of the next— You could just join me," he explains, pressing the 3rd of December and passing the phone back to you. "Our schedules line up—just the way you like it,"
Dropping your jaws at his insolence, your heart races at a speed you hate. His gorgeous face was already a challenge for you and now him asking this of you makes your heart's love cloud heavier. Renjun is skilled at adding more, and more, actions for you to misunderstand and your naïve heart just keeps taking them all, unable to commit to whether you should give up on him or just let your feelings rain on him, just the way he drowns you with his thoughtless actions.
"I will only pay for my food..."
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"Wait up... you're going on a trip...Alone with Huang Renjun, the Subject of your affections, Causer of your tantrums, Disturber of my peace?" despite being on call with Jisung, you sigh seeing him roll his eyes wearing a disgusted look on his face in your eyes.
Humming in response, you aren't sure why you even tell him about what's up in your life when all he does is rub your bad decisions on your face—he has a point because you always end up in his apartment, eating your emotions away by downing two buckets of vanilla and strawberry ice cream followed by Jisung's signature strawberry milkshake that he specifically bought a blender for; it never sees the light of day when he doesn't make the strawberry milkshake that you very often crave.
"He gave a compelling reason why this works for the two of us," or maybe you are easily convinced, something that only happens when it involves the said person.
Groaning into the speaker, Jisung begins his usual lecture. "I don't know who is the stupid one here, me or you—But, didn't you say you were going to get over him? What happened to putting some distance between Renjun and you? What happened to going to the cinema with me today? Didn't you see me rush through my assignments to spend time with you?" pausing for dramatic purposes, you bite your lips inhaling heavily. "...Are you saying I did all that for nothing?" Jisung always had your back, when your back was against Renjun.
"Jisung," you said sternly, rolling on your side when you heard your name faintly through your slightly open window.
"You need to shut up,"
Smiling softly, you shake your head getting off your bed. "Chenle told me you were going over to watch the Halloween reruns on his subscription," and as if it were magic, Jisung hangs up on you and you can see him fuming at Chenle already.
For as long as you have carried your feelings for Renjun, Jisung has been on the receiving end of it.
Peeking through your window, you study Renjun's outfit to match with him and you note how cool he looks standing without a care in front of your apartment, scrolling on his phone and the sun looks so good on him, it makes you somewhat jealous how even the environment around him makes your heart go ba-thump when all he did was breathe and the sound of your heart gets louder when you recognize the sweater he wore; he had gotten you matching sweaters when he went on a trip to the Disneyland in Japan with his friends, you were a good minute from melting at his feet when he gave it to you and ran off to his next class.
Quickly grabbing the same sweater from your cupboard, you decide it looks okay with your current outfit and swung your side bag on, rushing out to meet Renjun at the front. Today, you and Renjung were going shopping for something decent to wear for his cousin's wedding. You thought you already had something that would work but Renjun said you should match with his suit which in turn matches with the rest of his family because they decided for each of the families to match colours for the wedding—you wanted to laugh at how committed Renjun must've been to go as far as make you match with his family when you were a pretend date.
"Renjun!" you slap your hand on his side, announcing your arrival and he nods, "My mom said I should buy it for you because I am bringing you," he said, glancing at your face to gauge your reaction and much to his expectation, you vigorously shake your head.
"No way,"
Ignoring you, Renjun leads the way to the mall you decided earlier on and you groan, knowing that once Renjun says okay, he rarely ever changes his mind. Yes he buys you a lot of stuff without asking you but when he does it in front of you, you always end up fighting about how you can pay for your stuff while he says, he invited you so it's only reasonable that he pays. You think that if you ever do date him (in your dreams at least) you'd probably always have petty fights about it.
Following him around the store, you try on many clothes to which he shakes his head for different reasons, "This one looks too tacky," "Ehh, don't you think this makes you look off?" "The shade is wrong," and by the time you tried on your twentieth one, Renjun groans sprawling on the sofa in the dressing lounge and you sigh, taking a seat beside him.
"This is the right shade now Renjun," you shake his side, trying to get his attention and he flails around, "Just...Just do this yourself—shopping for formal wear is too hard,"
Slapping his forearm, you flinch away when he springs up with a glare. "That hurts!" he rubs his side, eyes drinking you in, slowly widening. "This is it!" he jumps, quickly making you stand and he claps his hands in victory, not noticing your flushing cheeks when he pushes your hair up and closing the distance between your faces, his breathe on your side as he checks out your dress closely with a thoughtful expression.
"You look amazing in this," he concludes, nodding while checking the price, and Renjun holds his shock at how expensive it is but the way the dress hugged you made him think this was made just for you, he had to buy it for you—wedding or no wedding. Looking up to face you, Renjun felt the first pang in his heart that would slowly be the undoing of his heart, he thought he felt the last of it a long time ago.
A momentary crush that faded away when he got comfortable around you, Renjun absolutely hated how clammy his hands got when he was around you at the beginning and he also hated the way a single smile from you could render him goo in a single second.
Renjun pushes himself away, his ears burning and the characteristic sweat forming on his palms. "Do you l-like this dress?" unable to face you in fear of a blushing expression, he turns away to call the salesman.
"Yeah... you seem like it a lot," you offhanded said, confused at his awkwardness as he rubs his hand on his jeans; something you thought he got out of a long time ago, and you watch him, getting the salesman to scan the code of your dress and going up to the front to make the payment leaving you to change into your normal clothes.
To be honest, before deciding to get over Renjun, a part of you thought he was interested in you too. From the way he has been sticking with you since your first year in university, despite how he has always been cramming with assignments to the way he has always been buying things for you as if to say he thinks of you all the time even when you are apart. 
"Should we head out?" you stand beside him, your shoulder brushing against him as you take the bag with your new dress in it from the counter.
Seeing over your head, Renjun thinks for a minute. His eyes go back and forth from you to behind you until he says, "Go ahead, I need to get something," leaving you rattled. 
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Renjun doesn't feel bad towards Jisung most of the time when you choose to hang out with him over your friend it made him feel more special even if it meant you were constantly changing your plans with Jisung. According to you, Jisung always leaves you unconfirmed until the last minute because he has grown used to you changing your mind whenever you decided your assignments are more important than watching ep 8 Brooklyn 99 just because Jisung wants to understand what all the memes are about. 
However, this time, Renjun did feel bad for Jisung. 
"I was waiting at the train stop... for almost two hours!" the younger boy had tears rolling down his side, his face threading the line between anger and frustration. 
"It's my fault..." Renjun sheepishly says, scraping his original idea of just getting Jisung back to his apartment. "My mom bought an early ticket and came over while she was at my place. You know how my mom is," 
Rolling his eyes, "Are you saying me that you left her alone with your mom?" Jisung scoffs, throwing his hands to his mouth, letting the seat belt he pulled sling back and hit his shoulder.
Jisung hurriedly plugs in the belt, turning his torso to face Renjun who begins driving and repeats his question. Raising his brows in disbelief, "How...no, why would you let that happen?" 
Renjun too honestly regrets having you meet his mom before talking about the whole plan with you, being in a pretend relationship that works would need the story to match on both sides. Renjun has no idea what his mom would ask and how you would reply, he trusts you completely yes, but he also knows how nosy his mother is when it came to his love life because he never tells her anything (because there is always nothing to say) and you, oh god, he knew you were nervous enough meeting his entire family at the wedding but this, you didn't even have time to dress properly when you opened the front door to his mom wearing his faded Ravenclaw sweatshirt and basketball shorts that Chenle left in his apartment a while back.
"Do you plan on ever telling her the truth?" Jisung asks out of the left field as the car drives into the curb near his neighbourhood, a shiver runs down Renjun's spine at the thought.
"No way,"
"Heh, Chenle was right about the two of you being idiots—You're meant to be," 
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Careful not to chop your fingers as you slice the onions for Renjun's mother, you couldn't help being on guard as she floats around you. Nothing could've prepared you for this. Renjun for one wasn't lying when he said he inherited his mother's good looks because as soon as you opened the front door and let your eyes fall on the grace of her face, you blew a fuse. 
"Darling, where is the cream sauce?" she asks, sweetness laced in her tone, scanning through the refrigerator.
"It must be in the drawer—Renjun might’ve stuffed in there last time," 
"Ahah, here it is. Does Renjun eat homecooked often?" she leaves the sauce out to cool, standing beside you on the kitchen counter and begins to work on the chicken. 
Nodding in response, you slide the sliced onions onto a plate and grab the mushrooms next, smiling fondly as you remember the first time Renjun had cooked for you and added mushrooms sliced too thin. "Renjun and I take turns cooking during the weekends. That's more homecooked meals than what most of our friends have,"
Smiling gently at you, "That's nice to know, I am always worried he isn't eating properly," goosebumps run down your back as she says that while she pulls out the bones from the chicken. You never wanted to cross her, hearing stories from Renjun about how scary she gets and the sight of her sweet smile combined with the deboning has solidified your fear. 
But as nervous as you are, you are quick to realize how sweet his mother is. Lathering him in affection as soon as her eyes set on him, Renjun flushed so deeply that you felt your heart swoon with adoration due to how docile he had turned in front of his mother, his ears turning red and whining at her to stop rubbing his head. She immediately asked you how you were and if Renjun was ever mean to you, you could've yes but you didn't. You said he's always very blunt, instead. 
Though, despite how unnerving it is that you eased around her, you remembered that you had plans with Jisung and Renjun left to get him. The nerves shot up again, you did not want to mess up for the sake of Renjun and you think his mother caught onto how tense you had become because she started talking more than she had earlier, asking you questions about Renjun and how he's been doing far from home—what you've been fearing for though had yet to appear until she finally let the stove do the cooking and the two of you settled on the stools at the kitchen. 
"You're the one coming to the wedding right?" she trails, her eyes blinking at you and studying your features, you nod apprehensively, unsure what she would ask next. "Is my son lying to me or are you two actually seeing each other?" 
Ahah, that question. 
You didn't know how to reply. Yes, your son is lying to you but no, I might also be the reason he isn't seeing someone because he spends all his time seeing me instead—you awkwardly nod though, "We are still at the talking stage... I don't know whether that qualifies," you said, your thumbs fiddling and you pray, Renjun please come home already.
As if on cue, you hear the jingle of his key chain and you spring up from your chair to go greet him, "You're back!" you smile in relief, clinging onto him and poor Jisung, getting left behind. "What are you doing here?" jutting your lips out when you see the other boy, you glance from him to Renjun for an answer. 
"I felt bad..." Renjun pushes you aside, removing his coat and you take it from him naturally, Jisung watching you act so routinely with his friend as if you live in his house. You put away his coat and hang up the keys, following him into the kitchen and Jisung follows you without a word, only opening up to greet Renjun's mother who he has met before. "This is Jisung, you know him," Renjun says anyway.
You grab two cups of water for the boys and walk to them, finding them in a conversation with his mom. "Ah! Yes, yes I remember now—Didn't you have a partner or something for that?" his mother laughs at the memory Jisung had recalled, the topic: Cross-dressing Renjun. 
"I was his partner for that," you giggle, loving the blush that overtook Renjun's face as you add, "He wore my clothes and I did his make-up, I was so sure he'd win," you said frowning. 
"Well, that senior Jungwoo looked very pretty," chugging down the water you brought, Renjun leans into your side when you sit, sending your heated blood upwards. Before you had become close to him, he always gave you incessant headaches from blushing, you had enjoyed the dizzying feeling he created and the conundrum your stomach would get up to, suddenly, you think, what if this wasn't a lie?
"Your mother asked me if you were lying," you whispered to him, your eyes plastered on Jisung and his mother reminiscing all of Renjun's embarrassing first-year stories. 
His jaw slackened, "What did you say?" he asks, eyes as wide as saucers and his breath brushing on your side, "Did she ask anything weird?"
Shaking your head, you tilt to face him. Your lips so close yet so far, you pull away and reply, "I said her we are still in the talking stage, I have no idea if that's even a thing for us—"
"—We've been in the talking stage for four years then," Renjun smiles, nudging your side and getting up to follow his mother into the kitchen when she announced she was going to check on the stove.
Letting out a ragged sigh, you groan quietly and roll to Jisung's side who looked at you disgusted, "You traitor, you liar, you asshat, I am never making plans with you again—"
"I didn't mean to ditch you." you cuddle into his side, comforting him by patting his side and he pouts, "I was there for two hours, you don't know how scared I was,"
"Yes, I know... I am sorry, I'll make up to you for sure," you try to put on your best puppy eyes, sure that Jisung would try to take revenge on you and he nods, "I hope you are ready to stick to your words this time," he says, dropping octaves to scare you.
"You have my word, sir,"
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Before Jisung pointed out, you never noticed that you've been having the boyfriend experience during the recent two years in your relationship with Renjun. 
Currently 3 am, you shudder as the cold night air chips away at you while you wait for Renjun to pick you up at the nearest fast food chain for an early breakfast and head off. Jisung said, how many people do you think have a meet-up spot at the unholy hour? Not many, mainly people who are dating or flirting—people don't go see people at 3 am unless they have something going on. You had never really thought of it like that, you thought that Renjun was a night owl like you. It made sense to call up the other person you were sure would also be awake. 
"You are stupid—you should know better than everyone else, Renjun wakes up early—"  it then clicked in your head, "Because he goes to bed early, what the hell," you blush. 
The sound of your name pulls you from your mind and you grin, waving slightly as his car stops in front of you. Waddling over to the passengers and getting in, you pull your phone from your pocket and thrash it into the holder, getting comfortable to wear the seat belt. "Hey," you finally said, pushing your hair away. 
"Did you place the order?" Renjun drives, his eyes glancing at you to see you nod and you open your phone, "It says it’s ready—Whose going to get it?" your brows immediately furrow, groaning at the idea of having to get off the car and you say, "I got it last time, you should do it this time,"
"Uhuh, no way," 
"Come on, that's fair! Plus I paid because I called you out!" you whine, wriggling into the seat, you hear Renjun chuckle and your eyes catch his eyes in the rearview mirror when he suggests, "Let's just do rock, paper, scissors,"
A grin flashes on your face, Renjun always loses rock, paper, scissors with you—the only he won was at a club when he was drunk off his ass for the first time in your friendship and you let him win because he has begun to tear up at his losing streak. 
Fisting your hand, Renjun imitates you after setting the car in park at the traffic light and you chant, "Rock, paper, scissors—Shoot!" Scissors and your eyes move to Renjun's hand but his groan reaches your ears first, earning a laugh from you. He had thrown out rock and you felt a zap through your body in excitement—now this is what you call a serotonin boost. 
"Ugh, you are such a cheat," he grumbles, the traffic light turns green and you scoff, " Jealousy is not a good colour on you,"
Rolling his eyes, Renjun contradicts, "Shut up. I am pretty sure you said green was made for me,"
"I only said that because it compliments yellow and yellow looks great on you—" "Same difference," Renjun says indignantly and you pout, rolling your eyes. You won, he has to go get the take-out whether he likes it or not because as you know, Renjun is a man of his word. 
The rest of the ride was quiet, it wasn't an awkward or uncomfortable one but it was one where you could hear your heart's pacing sound and Renjun's soft humming, you especially loved going on a drive at these wee hours because while the whole world was asleep, the sound of Renjun's voice is the only thing you could hear aside from your own heart that always sounds to the beat of him. 
Looking outside of the window, Jisung's words keep replaying in your mind. You couldn't disagree that you are indeed having the boyfriend experience. 
Whenever someone hits on you, you get to say you are with someone and it's Renjun. Whenever you wear something nice, you get to say it’s from Renjun. Whenever you are apart, people ask if you fought with Renjun. Everything nice reminds you of him. Your every day revolves around matching with him, like he said, you just like it when your schedules line up—even your beloved gcal has an assigned colour just for him. 
He knows about your bank details, and your class schedules, he knows your mom and now you know his, you know how he feels about his family and he knows everything there is to know about you daily—hell, you even have a spare key to his apartment that even his mom doesn't have as you found out recently.
If this wasn't the boyfriend experience, you don't know what having a boyfriend is supposed to be; aside from the obvious making out and such, which to be frank, you're open to if he is too.
Right now, as Renjun parks outside the fast food place and grabs your phone like it’s his and goes off to get your take-away, you realize he even knows your phone password and you want to sling Jisung outside a window for making you think about this.
You want to kiss Renjun now—that's what's missing. 
That's something you could ask for if he was your boyfriend but he's not, and this is all just pretend. In the two years, you've grown closer than before and the few days leading up to your trip to his cousin's wedding as well. This is all a lie because, for one, a kiss is something that isn't meant for you, who is just a friend.
Your eyes can't help burning, tears flooding and your nose heating up at well. This isn't a thing to cry about—you already decided to give up on him, you remind yourself, feeling utterly stupid at how easy it is for you to make yourself cry.
"Oh my god! Why are you crying?" you hear the panic laced in his tone, shoving the take-out bag carefully to the back and shutting the door behind him.
Renjun leans in, pushing your hair away from your moist face now that you began sweating from all the heat that rushed up to your face and seeing his worried face, you can't help crying harder. "I hate you! you are so baaaad!" you complain, slapping your hands on his chest and he shushes you, patting your sides calmly, "Why am I bad? Is this because of the rock, paper, scissors—I know you won fair and square," he rambles, his hands delicately wiping away the tears on your face.
"You're bad because you are like this! You are so confusing!" you sob, putting your hands up between himself and you. 
If it wasn't enough that you made yourself cry, your heart almost caught up to your neck. The usual ba-thump louder than ever and racing at the speed you didn't think was possible, if your chest breaks and your heart gets out, you wouldn't be surprised.
On the other hand, Renjun barely had any idea why you were suddenly crying and he does what he knows calms you down. Unplugging the seat belt you had on, he snakes his arms around your neck and pulls you into him, of course, he hopes you can't hear his loud heart beating like crazy but right now, he shushes into your ears and says all the nice words you like to hear. "It's okay, I am right here if you need to cry—take your time," he says like a chant, a mantra that he knows works on you because you taught him these words when he really needed to cry.
"Renjun..." you call, sobbing more gently now after a few minutes has passed. Craning your neck up to face him, you ask, "Hic—Why is your h‐ick—eart bearing so fast?"
Making gibberish noises, you try to make out what he says and he shrugs, "Um because you scared me... by suddenly... crying?" he sounds unsure and you narrow your eyes, leaning over to which he pulls away in response. "Why do you—hic—sound unsure?" you ask through your hiccuping. 
"I don't know, I don't know—don't ask me this," Renjun feels the back of his burning up and the clammy hands return, he pushes you off and turns to get the food from the back. "Let's just finish this before it becomes even colder than it already is," he says trying to distract you, your glare though keeps following him as he hands you your meal.
If you ever ask him this again, Renjun thinks he might just run away from you then come out with the truth now that he has (if he is assuming correctly) become the reason you had a mental breakdown at almost 5 am with the sunrise as the backdrop on his car.
Whatever it might be, he hopes it has to do with the rock, paper, scissors and not something more serious.
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While you were away at your parent's house for a week, you became sure that it was Jisung's revenge to have you think about the nature of your relationship with Renjun.
You hate him, you cut him off for three days now and suddenly, you are at his apartment unable to keep to yourself. 
"You cried in his car?" Chenle repeats, munching on spicy chips and intently listening to your retelling of the most embarrassing thing you have ever done. "YES!" you nod exasperatedly.
"I was god awful—I think I might have got his shirt snotty and also, Jisung is so evil like why would you tell something so crucial at a time like this?" dropping your head on the pillow placed on your lap, you scream into it.
"Um. What's the crucial time?" Jisung tilts his head confusedly, looking like an adorable puppy but his actions have made him look like the most annoying creature on earth in your eyes, a scoff escapes you before you could stop it which in turn earns you a gasp followed by a resentful scoff. "Leave, just leave my house if you are going to behave like this," Jisung stretches out his hands towards the door and you cry, "I am sorry! You know I love you!" 
"Anyways," Chenle pops up, "What's this crucial time? Even I want to know,"
"Guys, do you ever listen to me?" you weakly accuse them, and Chenle shrugs, "We are right now, aren't we?" to which Jisung nods. 
"I am going on a trip with Renjun today—like in a few hours... My suitcase is already in his trunk and he is just getting things in order with his landlord since he won't be here for three weeks—and you know what? he says if the room isn't aired out at least twice a week, he'll die," 
Dropping his jaws, "Ah, the crucial time," Jisung laughs sheepishly, apologising for his awful timing and you nod, "Yeah, yeah you asshat. Be sorry for me,"
"What are you doing here if you are leaving today?" Chenle as always, always asks ‘the important questions’. 
"This is why you're my favourite," you giggle at him, throwing a chip in his mouth as a reward and Jisung rolls his eyes, because if Chenle was your favourite, why are you always calling him in distress and disturbing his peace?
"I didn't wanna leave with bad blood." closing your eyes for dramatic purposes, you place your hand on Jisung's shoulders and say, "You know I love you right? You are such an important, irreplaceable person to me. Chenle, you need to keep him safe while I am away," 
Rolling his eyes, "I am glad to know you feel guilty for ghosting me for two days," Jisung grins, even if he doesn't say it, you know deep down he appreciates how much you put into words your affection for him. 
Though he wishes you just do it with Renjun and get over this whole unrequited love situation.
Laughing at the exchange, Chenle says, "I take care of him all the time, don't worry," and you sigh, to show that you now feel at peace, you place a hand on your chest and look afar. "I can finally rest in peace,"
"Why are you acting like this, just go home,"
"You're gonna miss me when I am gone," 
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It was just a two-hour ride on a single train that makes about three stops along the way, the only thing you is that your time of arrival would be late at night and you felt awkward enough pretending to be asleep, cuddling into the side of your seat and bringing your knees closer to your chest—you had a reason, your knees keep brushing with his and your heart couldn't handle any sense of contact thanks to your cry fest, though Renjun fails to bring it up whenever you think he might, you know it must he bothering him just by knowing is personality.
To say the least, Renjun's hometown isn't too far.
"Can you please stop pretending?" Renjun pokes your arms, his eyes staring daggers into your head and your body clatters, you didn't think you could face Renjun.
Fluttering your eyes open, your breath hitches. "Give me some space," you choke out, putting your hand up and Renjun hums, "You've been so quiet—are you worried about that breakdown?"
"If you know, you shouldn't ask me about it," you hiss, sitting up straight and sinking into the seat to make sure he sees your annoyance. You aren't actually annoyed, you didn't know how else to be normal though.
Renjun is probably familiar with your bouts of "Leave me alone," over the time you've been friends and each other’s confidants. He has never been the cause of your tantrum but he knows you'll come around. "You can keep pretending like you hate me. But right now, I need to know if you'd like to stay at my family home or a hotel?" crossing his arms causally, Renjun glances at you and you quirk your lips downwards.
"Shouldn't you have asked this earlier?"
"I was discussing with my mom," you were starting to grow suspicious of how much of his decisions are his and how much of it was his mother—"My mom says I should bring you home,"
"Will you be comfortable with me walking around your family home?" you pursue your lips trying to imagine what he would be like with family around, no matter how awkward you get, he'd probably be even more so. Thinking a second, "I'd rather not pay for lodging, so yeah, stay over," he shrugs.
"Even if it means I have to stay in your room?" you lean into his side, locking your eyes and tying your pinky with his.
Playing along with you, Renjun grabs your hand and asks, "Didn't you hate me a second ago?" earning a subtle smile from you.
"I can't be mad at you for so long. And I swear, I didn't cry because of you, you did nothing wrong, you didn't make me cry," you softly said, your fingers rubbing circles on his hand as you bring it over your lap. "Jisung is the one to blame,"
"Huh? At 3 am, Jisung made you cry?" Renjun furrows his brows at you, watching you firmly nod, "Yes, Jisung makes me cry no matter the time of day—he just like onions,"
"I am sure he'd love to know you're comparing him to onions too now,"
Giggling weakly, you roll your eyes. "Don't you dare tell him," you glare playfully, you surprise yourself with how fast Renjun lifts your mood. With your previous embarrassment behind you, you somehow end up lifting the armrest between you and Renjun, snuggling into his shoulder, and snoozing away for the two hours to his hometown.
Much to your dismay, his mother had prepared you the guestroom.
Apparently, she had cleaned out the guestroom a few months ahead in case family comes over because of the wedding being nearby and you didn't get to force Renjun into proximity, not that you don't do that either way but something about going to bed together makes your heart flutter, you know Renjun must look pretty lying down, resting his eyes and lulling into sleep.
"Knock, knock," Renjun's voice entices your skin, goosebumps rising across your arms while you stretch.
"Ugh... Good morning," you beam at him, your hair looking like a bird’s nest and Renjun hides a smile, pulling you up from the bed. "It's just me and you today, there's no food," he informs you, guiding you by your shoulders into the bathroom to let you freshen up.
"Are we getting take-out?" you sputter, trying to stretch the coldness away from your body. "Umm... wash up and come down, let's decide later," he shrugs, leaving you to yourself.
The kitchen he grew up around isn't the same anymore, the cabinet he had always opened to find cereal boxes and ramen packs now housed many types of tea and biscuits, clearly, his mother made the house her own once there wasn't a kid around anymore. Knowing his father, he probably just goes along with whatever his mom does.
Scanning through the options, Renjun flicks the kettle on to heat the water and grabs the packet of black tea, moving swiftly to the fridge to take out the milk carton. "Nothing better than milk tea for breakfast," he says to himself, prepping for it.
You always had milk tea in the morning when you woke up, you said it clears your bowels before you had to leave your house. Something you picked up from your family routine and he finds it endearing, you still did many things that you'd attribute to being childhood habits such as greeting him at the door and always leaving folded clothes at whoever bedrooms instead of just putting them away in the cupboard.
You also always waddle into the kitchen with your pyjamas on, not ready to change and begin your day just yet. "It's already 10 in the morning, why are you still being lazy?" Renjun nags, sliding your cup of tea towards you.
Rolling your rolls, you pout your lips out. "We are staying in today,"
"So?"
"I don't need to look presentable in front of you, you don't even care what I look like," your tone had changed from normal to whinny, catching him off guard. "What do you mean? Of course, I care how you look," he threw out defensively.
"Yeah? I don't see you checking me out whenever I come over," you point, sipping the tea he made you and humming in appreciation, he makes it just the way you like it and you only had to tell him one time. "No one checks anyone out obviously, that's just... that's like telling the world you think someone's hot," nodding curiosity at his audacity, you ask.
"So you're saying I am hot and you check me out secretly?"
Renjun gapes, blinking at you indignantly. "P O V, you are delusion. Why are you putting words in my mouth,"
"I think I remember what you just quite clearly," you spit out, peering over at him with a look of victory. "You can admit that you think I am hot,"
"As if—I know you think I am hot, I can see you checking me out all the time. I also see you trying to match with me through the window. You think I don't see you?" Renjun coughs, leaning against the kitchen island and you kick his leg, washing your now empty tea cup and you hear a grumble from him.
"At least I am not denying it,"
Narrowing his eyes, the fresh sunlight dazzling through the kitchen windows shines on your face. Extenuating your features and making your face look gentler than it probably was, Renjun cages you to the sink and scoffs, "Oookay," he drags, his eyes dropping to your lips, the sound of his heart clouding his reasoning and he asks, "If I agree that you're hot, can I kiss you?"
As if time could stop, your eyes widened, even the dust in the air becoming visible suddenly and Renjun's breath on your nose makes your chest tighten, heat spreading through your face and head, "What...?" you echo your mind, Renjun doesn't like you.
"If you don't say no, I'll take it as a yes," Renjun says, his head leaning towards your lips and your fingers betray you, curling around his collar, you grab him first and peck his lips. It felt like this dream would shatter if you kissed him any harder, a peck was enough, that alone was a dream come through and it felt so real, your body shudders under his grip. 
But this is real, you say to yourself. Renjun needs an answer too, "Yes, yes, you can kiss me," you quickly said, eyes burning up due to the flame on your face, you feel the dizzying feeling back with the throbbing pain that always accompanies it. "Hurry and kiss me," Renjun chuckles, nodding sweetly at your words.
His hands cup your cheeks, brushing his lips against yours and your lips are as soft as he thought they'd be, you were always fussy about moisturising them. Not as patient as him, you lean forward and kiss him, his lips smiling into the kiss and his hands move back to cradle your neck, to hold you in a more comfortable position. Your lips taste like your favourite strawberry toothpaste and the scent of your cheap lavender soap bar intoxicated his movement, his fingers running through your face, feeling out your features and your lips keeps chasing his, the sound of your quiet sighs enticing him but he knows better.
"Stop," he says, his head digging into your neck. His lips brush against your collarbone, and he feels the shiver that runs down your back because he felt that too, the headache this heat gives him never felt this satisfying. "If you kiss me again, I'll take you straight to my room," he laughs, hearing your sharp gasp.
"That's not very filial son of you, you shouldn't do naughty stuff in your parent's house," you tease, your arms snaking around his torso, gripping him for dear life because if this was a dream, it feels as real as it could get and Renjun sighs, his breath tickling your neck.
"What are we now?" he asks, "Actually, did you even know I like you?"
"Huh, I would've never guessed." you bite back, pushing him off you and just now, you felt the back of your shirt moist from leaning on the sink and you release a groan, "Ugh! My shirt is wet,"
"My master plan." Renjun beams, sitting down on the kitchen stool. "Now you have to get changed into non-pyjamas."
"You asshat," you slap his head, running upstairs to change and your hand flies up to your lips, you cried last week about kissing him.
Your body felt like a fever, his body was just melting into yours and now, you've just been kissed and your brain might’ve melted, you think. You change out of your pyjamas, wearing what are "decent clothes" according to Renjun and hurry down, his side profile making your heart shake. Jisung was right, you couldn't think of anything you wanted to do with Renjun for a date that you haven't already done. Even meeting his family is a thing that should've come after he was your boyfriend—You've had all of the typical boyfriend experiences and yet, Renjun...
Biting your lisp, you just had to ask, "Are you, my boyfriend, now?"
"Huh?" he blinks, looking away from his phone and you ask again, "Are we a thing?"
Shrugging, this is the first time you've seen a blush on his face that you've caused. His ears glow, and it spreads to his cheeks. Lips quivering, you could tell he was trying to contain a smile. "If you'll have me, yeah," he nods, his eyes looking anywhere but at you.
"Heh," you giggle, skipping down the stairs to his side and you fling yourself at him, "I guess how you actually have a date for the wedding tomorrow,"
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Crossing your arms and propping yourself on the table you've been assigned to, you understand now, why his mother was adamant about having a date.
Renjun has always been popular, even though he only attempts blind dates out of peer pressure and rejects everyone left and right, Renjun's popularity hadn't ever dwindled not even when he went missing doing his mid-term senior assignments. You should've known it was the same case back home, your eyes follow him as he greets people from his past with his mother and you can tell by the subtle blush on his face, the apologetic look as he points at you that they were asking about his relationship status again.
You even saw someone give him a gift when they should be gifting the people getting married instead.
"He's too popular, right?" Jisung huffs, stuffing his cheeks with the chocolate nuggets on your table. "I always knew," you shrug.
"Why didn't you tell me you were invited as well?" you glare at him, when you saw him as you entered with Renjun a while back, you wanted to cry in relief that there was someone you knew other than Renjun and his parents.
Forcing down the nuggets in his cheeks, he chokes out, "I didn't know if I was gonna make it—Renjun's cousin is kind of obsessed with me." He points at the groom and says, "I met him with Renjun a few years back and he clicked with me immediately, I don't even know why,"
"Damn, glad he didn't steal you from me," you nod, impressed by the reach of Jisung's charm.
"What happened with you and him though?" he asks, his eyes following Renjun now just as yours were and you grin, "We are now officially—I don't even know,"
"He acts just the same, I mean I guess we started dating yesterday but god, he is so awful, I didn't know how awful he was before," you complain, remembering how he woke you up last this morning when you would've taken more time than him to ready but he was sweet, he said he wanted to let you sleep in, though it still pissed you off that you had to rush getting ready.
"You were just enchanted by him before, now you'll see his true colours in their true form," Jisung concludes, sleeking back his hair as he stands. "I am gonna congratulate them and leave, see back you home," he pats your shoulder, Renjun appearing in front of you.
"Jisung's leaving?"
"Yeah," you stare up at his gorgeous face, his lips tinted with your lipstick but you didn't tell him that, you wanted everyone to know he was yours. The deep raspberry red that faintly stuck to him after you kissed him made your chest tremble, and you intertwin your hand with his. "You polish up nicely," you tell him again.
"You look nice too," he replies, a blush forming on his face and you grin, "You know, your mom was right,"
"There are way too many preying hands here, how did you manage to have only one girlfriend before me?"
Renjun thinks, humming at your question. "I was a bigger nerd back then,"
"But your cute even when you're nerding out," you blurt out, whether he was singing his favourite songs word to word or he was making fan art for a game he was obsessed with, he always looked cute when his focused expression; furrowing brows and a deep frown.
"You are the only one who thinks that,"
"You just don't know how many people think the same, you just don't know better," you shrug. You had already seen the Renjun fanclub at university to think otherwise. The only other time you cried about Renjun was the time they tried to make you stay away from him.
"I am just realising you'd be an awful boyfriend," you chuckle, you are ready to face whatever he might be behind the Renjun you know. "I am glad I didn't go on that backpacking trip,"
"Be grateful, I saved you so much money and you got a boyfriend."
"It's unfair though," you mumble, Renjun raising his brows at your statement. "What's unfair?"
"You've done all the boyfriend things with me, what else is left for you to do with me?" you ask, heat rising in your cheek because you can only think of one thing and Renjun giggles, it is an evil giggle.
"We both know what's left,"
"Shut up, I am just saying it's unfair that we've been on hundreds of dates already, we take pictures where ever we go, I met your parents, I have your apartment key, we cook for each other, we have matching stuff—"
"Wow, now that you're listing it, we've actually done a lot together,"
"Exactly! You stole my boyfriend experience—I've never even had one before you,"
"W for Renjun, L for you,"
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©KDYISM, 2022 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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midnightlizard · 3 months
Text
Dance?
Kate Bishop x gn!reader
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Summary: You ask Kate to dance, but you didn't want to dance. But she says yes, so now you have to dance.
Warnings: none, pure fluff
Word count: 656
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"will you do the honor of dancing with me?"
She turned her head at your question, seeing your almost kneeling form with your hand extended to her, the person talking to her giving a short goodbye before leaving you alone.
"you want to dance?" the archer asked, emphasizing the first word, a knowning glint in her eyes and an amused smile on her lips.
"ok" she said simply, drawing a step closer to you.
You straightened your posture, retreating your hand, letting it fall to your side. You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out, making Kate's smile grow bigger. You definitely weren't expecting this outcome. And as if she was reading your mind she added, "you didn't expect me to say yes, did you?"
"no, I actually didn't" You answered, making her giggle.
"honey I know you hate dancing as much as I do, plus, you are totally incapable of dancing" she accused. Ignoring the warmth in your chest because of the pet name, your blinked your eyes fast and put a hand on your chest, causing Kate to roll her eyes.
Again she advanced towards you, until your chests were mere centimeters away from each other, and extended her hand
"come on, take my hand"
You tilted your head, uncertainty clear on your face, not moving from your position you spoke up
"you know what? I changed my mind"
Her teasing smile now turned into a soft and encouraging one.
"let me guide you, you won't mess it up"
She offered, making the desicion for you and taking your hand in hers, putting them in the air. Grabbing the other hand, she put it on her waist, and placed her own on your shoulder, starting to sway to the rhythm of the music.
It was only a few steps and your hand already left her body for about five times to adjust your hair, an unnecessary move, but the darked haired girl didn't pick up on your real motives, or if she did, she decided not to comment on it. Instead she circled your wrist and put it back in its original place "keep your hand on my waist"
You nodded, her soft voice doing something to sooth your nerves. If she tried to make conversation after, you didn't notice, hyper aware of all the people dancing or looking at you, especially one-
"hey! (Y/N)!" she whisper-yelled, making you raise your head, looking in her eyes.
"are you nervous?"
"uh, kinda? I mean-yes yes I am" you nod your head, blabbering on your words. At this Kate squeezed your hand searching for your eyes, indicating she was waiting for more.
"they're looking at me, at you, all of these people, your mother is looking at us and I'm almost tripping with every step. You shouldn't be seen dancing like this-shouldn't be seen dancing with-"
"(Y/N)" she called, stopping you from your rant, and your dance at the same time.
"(Y/N), stop it's okay. They're not looking at us and even if they are, let them look, we're hot" the archer shrugged, giggling at her own joke before she continued "and without you I would be standing in a corner somewhere, bored out of my mind, so don't stress out, mh?"
The brown eyed girl barely waited for any sign from you and spoke up
"don't look at the floor, look at me, no need to rush and don't focus too much, just follow my steps"
And you started doing just that.
"see? You're doing great. You had the perfect teacher after all" She tried to play it cool.
"you never danced in your entire life!" You replied, rolling your eyes and nudging her nose with your own. Har act broke, looking into your eyes, soft smile on her lips, and you were finally able to forget about everyone in the room but the one that was in your arms.
Kate Bishop Masterlist
MCU Masterlist - General Masterlist
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beanghostprincess · 3 months
Note
Transfem buggy anon-
I was listening to music on YouTube, like broke birches do, ya know? And Heather On The Hill played and I was hit with three fold ideas.
Roger had an accent. Like. A very cliché piratey accent, one who few if any others have on One Piece that we know of. And Buggy and Shanks were raised by this man. The likelihood of them not picking up some sort of accent or specific pronunciation of a word or phrase seems impossible to me.
Shanks and Buggy with very very VERY slight accents. They get thicker when they get highly emotional, tired or drunk.
As children, Buggy's was a bit more noticeable bc she ran on a cocktail of Rage, Greed, and Stolen Coffee, so she was always keyed up to about 11.
As adults, Shanks is tipsy more often than not, so his twang is a little more notable but difficult to place due to his general demeanor and timbre.
When the two are together, the first hour or so is fairly normal. Then it's like a switch flips and they feed off of each other until it's a completely different accent, word choice and slang is being thrown without thought. It leaves the rest a bit confused but also so happy that their captains feel safe.
Shanks sing Heather on The Hill for Buggy. It was her favorite song when Roger sang them to sleep after nightmares, it was the song she learned her first dance to, it was the song he learned specifically to ask her to be his - it has meaning to them both and it's a comfort song. ((Yes, it plays at the wedding))
Buggy uses it as a lullaby or a self soothing song ad well. She'll sing to the animals in the evenings as she helps look after them, when she feels a bit down, as a comfort to her friends and crew, etc.
Crocodile and Mihawk are a little embarrassed by how much they love how her accent thickens a bit during and after the song. They'll never admit it.
Just... aaaaaaaaaa them having pieces of Roger with them even decades after his death, adoring them and each other and absolutely being in love because That Person Is Theirs and they're just... so grateful
AAAAAA ♡♡♡
Well, your asks are getting better every day. This is beautiful. I absolutely adore it. Shanks and Buggy both carry that piece of Roger with them and are so comfortable and safe with each other that their accents are most noticeable when they're together,,, Shanks singing for Buggy,,, The thought of these two dancing together for the first time when they were teens makes me blush and giggle and kick my feet because they're the cutest thing on earth. Shanks is head over heels for her and he just loves listening to Buggy talking because whenever they're together, her accent is more obvious, and it brings back memories for both of them. And Buggy doesn't like that Shanks is tipsy most of the time but when they get drunk and have fun together? Listening to this guy's voice makes her heart do backflips. Embarrassingly so. Sometimes, when they've had too much to drink, they're the only ones who can understand each other and it doesn't even matter because they're in their own bubble of happiness anyway. Not to mention Mihawk and Crocodile, they're... They won't say it out loud but sometimes they make Buggy angry just to hear her accent slip. Sometimes they watch her sing only because they like her voice. At first, they don't even know why they do it, but it makes them want to stop making her life a living hell for a while and let her enjoy this.
It's just beautiful to see them having traits their captain had. I imagine Shanks using the same expressions or gestures. Attacks, too, of course. And Buggy is always rolling her eyes like "You wanna be him soooo bad" but she actually is fond of that. While Buggy actually does the same thing and she often eats the same food Roger liked or wears the same jewelry and listens to the same songs. Honestly, I think this happens with Rayleigh too and these two end up getting some of his traits also. And it would be so cute to see them reunite and see Rayleigh realizing how much of them these two have.
ALSO THE SONG IS PERFECT FOR THEM I AM SOBBING-
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valeskawhore · 1 year
Text
“Y/n Dracula?”
PART TWO!!!!
Word(s): 1.3k
Character(s)/parings: Wednesday x Fem! Vampire! Reader! (GirlxGirl)
Series/show(?): series— 2/??
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*~*~*~*~*
Dark, creepy, and dead silent. Those are the words I would use to describe Nevermore. The weatherman wasn’t kidding when he explained that there was barely any sun in Jericho, vermont. It was like autumn all year round.
Everything that caught my eye was like copy and paste. It’s like the town was under some spell or trance that caused them all to be depressed at the same time. Not one smile on our way here, no one stopped to wave or say hello like usual when they saw a fancy car drive by.
They glared, as if they were offended by newcomers.
A town with this small of a population— it was to be expected that they didn’t easily accept newcomers, the town had quite the interesting history of banning outcasts.
Alec tried making small conversation here and there but gave up halfway through when it finally sunk in his mind that I was making no attempts to answer him or even care about what he had to say.
I felt a guilt bubble in my stomach, he didn’t deserve my wrath but it was the only thing on my mind so I just did my best to ignore him without trying to lash out. It wouldn't help my situation anyways. Either way, I'm going to this ridiculous school and there's nothing I can do about it.
Two things caught my eye,
One was an old antique shop, and the other was a fairly busy cafe on the corner of a T-section. It had fairly good business, something they were selling must have been good enough if it was still up and running. Though, by the looks of it, we’ll see how long that’ll even last.
I like shity cafe music… Maybe that’ll be something to do when I finally get permission to go into town.
*~*~*~*
“Hmm, Nevermore doesn't usually accept newcomers this late into the semester.” Principal Weems adjusted her glasses, skimming through my paperwork. “You’d have to do some extra classes in order to catch up on credits.”
“I don’t mind the work, that won't be a problem.” I added in.
“Well… Miss Edith, given your 4.0 GPA, that doesn't surprise me. You haven't failed a grade, never missed a day of school, your IQ level is above a 150– which is more than intelligent enough. “ she smiled, setting the paperwork to the side and giving me her full attention. “Besides,” she smiled once more, “Who am i? To turn down the one and only– Count Dracula’s only living heir. I'm surprised he enrolled you as late as he did.”
I kept my posture straight, crossing one leg over the other. “He is something.”
She laughed, “I would expect nothing less from a Dracula.”
I let out a breath of relief, smiling slightly. Her blue eyes scanned my figure, looking me up and down as if judging me right then and there. If I wasn't as sharp as I was– I'd probably say something dark was swirling around in her eyes as she smiled at me. Something felt off about this woman, I just couldn't put my finger on it just yet.
Finally, she let out the question she’d been holding in,
“You are aware of how to control yourself around others, correct? Especially normies??” she asked, “Because as you and I both know sweetie, being dracula means you’re a lot more… Different from others.”
‘Ah… that’s what she wanted to ask.’
“What all can you do exactly? Miss y/n?”
I dropped my head, suddenly feeling ashamed. She’s right, I am different. And not because I am a half-blood but because, unlike other vampires who can take medication to control themselves– I was a problem.
I was stronger than others, faster, and I craved actual blood. I couldn’t be out in the sunlight for too long on actual days when the sun was finally out.
I could glamor people to get what I wanted but in-order for that to work, I needed to be superior to them in power. In my case, that wasn’t a problem. I haven’t met someone I couldn't glamor… yet.
Every second that passed by, I felt more and more like I was being judged. She expected an answer while staring at me so intently, I thought she was going to burn holes in my skull.
I finally gave her one,
“I.. have my own personal supplies on things I need. As for power, I can't be out in the sunlight without my ring for too long, but besides that– pretty much the same for other vampires. I'm able to keep human food down long enough for it to digest, but that still doesn't stop the urges.”
She stared for a long time, scanning my face for any traces to which I'd be lying.
After a few moments, she smiled, feeling satisfied with my lie. “That’s perfect, I trust you can manage your own supplies correct?”
I nodded.
*~*~*~*~*
“Welcome to Aurora Hall! We are so excited to finally have someone new joining us!” The young girl buzzed with excitement, damn-near shaking in her boots while she held the door open.
“I’m your new roommate! My name is Abigail but my friends call me Abi! We’re friends right!? Since we’re roommates!? That definitely automatically makes us—”
“Woahhhhh honeypie, I understand you are very excited– but let’s give Edith sometime to settle in, hm?” My dorm mother explained. Marylin? I believe her name was.
Very nice women.
I smiled nervously, not really knowing what else to do. Abigail was definitely someone I'd have trouble getting along with, I realize I might have to set boundaries if I'm going to make this work.
Shrugging everything off, I picked my suitcases up from the ground and gently carried them into the room.
It was huge. The room was already divided into two separate halves and it was already obvious which one was Abigails. She specializes in terrakinesis– she had a green thumb alright, abi could make anything grow.
Her side of the room was filled with green and black vines growing up the walls with flowers blooming around every corner. They spread everywhere around her side of the room. Abi also had dozens of small plants littered around her room, growing all types of flowers– And believe me when I say, Abigail absolutely adored flowers.
DVD players and radios stacked up on one side of the room, next to her bed. Almost working as a nightstand without the drawers. She had an electric guitar also, with a microphone setup with speakers.
Maybe this chick wasn't so bad afterall.
The other side of the room, my side– was as to be expected. A queen sized mattress with a large frame reaching the ceiling sat in the corner neatly.
Definitely compliments from my father– added with two wide dark burgundy dressers to match. Everything else was completely barren, waiting and ready for me to unpack.
I gave a small smile, turning back to my dorm mother when she called my name.
“Here,” She smiled at me, holding a flower pot out. “I try to match just the right flower to all of my girls. This one is a—”
I cut her off, “Wolfsbane. Which is highly dangerous.. Also more commonly associated with werewolves, witches……. and even—”
“That's right, Vampires…I found it fitting for the one and only heir to the Dracula legacy.” She smiled widely.
I stared at her, holding the flower.
After a moment, I smiled as widely as she did, my fangs releasing from the roof of my mouth. She was taken back by how quickly they ejected,
“Thank you,” I laughed, “How very stereotypical of you.”
Marylin struggled to smile, taking a few steps back before making her way to the doorway. “Well uh,” she coughed, raising her hand to her mouth nervously, “Let me know if I can do anything for you girls.” She excited the room quickly after, shutting the door with a loud click.
I Laughed almost immediately, retracting my fangs. A skill only a dracula ascendent could master. We could almost pass off as a normie if it wasn’t for the restricted sunlight, the pasty white skin, dark red rimmed eyes and the two sets of retractable fangs.
I began to unpack my suitcases, Abigail offered to assist but I shot her down and did my best to be polite about it. Having a ‘bright’ ‘innocent’ girl like herself put away packaged bags of blood among other things was too much of a headache to have to deal with. She understood, and offered to give me space and time to unload everything.
I thanked her, nodding my head. “I’ll be faster unpacking alone.'' I threw in, not wanting to sound like an asshole. “Give me a few minutes and I'll let you assist me in grabbing my uniform and schedule.”
Abigail almost jumped out of her skin at the opportunity. “Yes!!! iI would love it too! Of course, no problem– I'll be down the hallway when you're ready!”
As soon as she left the room, I sighed.
“Father…what have you gotten me into now..?”
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Text
Secrets From a Girl
Masterlist
Word Count: 7.6k
Pairing: Jake x Reader
Genre: Angst, slight hurt, ex!Jake
Context: Y/N, a very successful singer-songwrite has been close friends with the members of Greta Van Fleet for several years. She once had a tumultuous yet terribly passionate relationship with Jake that ended painfully (you’ll see…). They eventually figured out how to remain on good terms for everybody’s sake. Only, seeing each other move on isn’t the easiest thing.
Disclaimer: English isn’t my native language, so I apologize in advance for mistakes and awkward wordings to come. Also, I guess this fic could be triggering for some because it’s kind of sad and angsty.
Previous Track: California
Chapter soundtrack: Secrets From A Girl – Lorde
Baby girl, no one's gonna feel the pain for you. You're gonna love again, so just try staying open, And when the time comes, you'll fall. Yeah, when the time comes, you'll fall. … Your dreams and inner visions, all your mystical ambitions. They won't let you down. Do your best to trust all the rays of light. Everybody wants the best for you, But you gotta want it for yourself, My love.
(By the way, for every ‘Chapter Soundtrack’, basically the idea is that it’s a song that YN eventually wrote with that chapter of her life in mind)
Alright, let’s get into this.
________
Breathe me in, breathe me out I don't know if I could ever go without…
The dim glow of the living room greeted Jake as he stumbled in, still half-asleep. The boys huddled around Danny's iPad, their animated discussion creating a low hum in the room. An air of disagreement hung over them, their faces etched with differing opinions.
“I’m telling you there’s no way-” Josh's voice cut through the murmurs, his conviction triggering another round of mumbles from the others. Jake, now fully awake, couldn't resist the urge to join the fray.
“What are you all looking at?” he inquired, his curiosity piqued. The collective gaze shifted toward him, finally acknowledging his presence.
 “It’s this thing,” Danny turned around to face him, eyes still glued to the tablet in his hand. “There’s a music video that came out yesterday, and the press online is freaking out, saying Y/N’s in it-”
“I mean, it could be her,” Sam interjected, grabbing the iPad. “It’s not like it shows that much-”
“I've been telling you there is no way that’s her,” Josh rolled his eyes, exasperation evident in his tone.
“I mean,” Danny added, a hint of skepticism in his voice, “we see what? A waist? A neck? That could be anyone.”
“Thank you,” Josh said, his response laced with vindictiveness.
Jake grabbed the tablet from Sam, his eyes squinting as they adjusted to the bright screen. The video unfolded before him; each frame scrutinized in his quest for confirmation. Emotions stirred within him, a blend of curiosity and a hint of something he couldn't quite put into words.
The woman in the video did seem to move with an uncanny familiarity, a subtle recognition tugging at Jake's senses. A quick exchange of glances with Josh only added to the intrigue. “What’s the name of the song?” Jake asked, nonchalant.
“Uh, it’s—” Sam replied, “something- fruit salad whatever—”
“Title’s here, see?” Danny pointed out, “Watermelon Sugar.”
The words unexpectedly struck Jake like a chord. He cleared his throat, a feigned nonchalance concealing the memories creeping the back of his mind. "I don’t know,” he mumbled, “could be her." He returned the iPad and casually making his way out the door.
"Where you going?" Sam asked.
"Gotta piss," Jake replied, his footsteps echoing through the corridor.
The bathroom door clicked shut behind him, enclosing him in a small space. Resting his hands against the sides of the sink, he let out a deep breath before meeting his own gaze in the mirror.
************
The living room had been bathed in the warm glow of sunlight filtering through the curtains, that day. The faint crackling of the record player added a gentle melody to the lazy ambiance.
They were entwined on the couch, the vinyl spinning tales of bygone eras as if time had slowed down just for them. He felt the subtle weight of her against him, a comforting presence in the hushed tranquility.
Her soft hums danced in the air, a serenade that painted the room with a touch of nostalgia. It wasn't often that their hectic schedules allowed for such tranquil moments, making each second all-the-more precious.
As the last notes of the song played, the spell was momentarily broken. She stirred, a reluctant movement signaling an impending departure.
"Alright,” she announced, a practical reminder of the outside world, “I’m gonna be late." He caught her wrist, a silent plea for just a few more moments in this pocket of calm and pulled her back onto his lap. She let out a playful giggle, the sound a melody in itself.
"Five more minutes," he pleaded, a pout playing on his lips.
"Patty will be mad," she teased, rolling her eyes.
"Patty’s always mad," he retorted, nuzzling into the soft curve of her neck, losing himself in the intoxicating fragrance that was uniquely hers.
He lowered his head, and their lips met in a lingering kiss. The warmth shared between them seemed to suspend time. There was a quiet intimacy to the way their mouths moved together, a silent language only they could understand. After a moment, she gently pulled away, and he playfully protested with a melodramatic whine.
He looked up as she was grabbing her shoes. "Your lips always taste so nice," he mumbled, "How do they always taste so nice?" The question was posed with genuine curiosity, as if he were unraveling a mystery that had been haunting him.
Blushing at the compliment, she chuckled softly. "I don't know," she admitted, feigning innocence, "probably just my lip balm." Retrieving a pink stick from her pocket, she tossed it to him.
With a smooth catch, he examined the innocent-looking tube. Opening the cap, he took a moment to savor the scent.
He raised an eyebrow at the name on the label, "Watermelon sugar?" he said, "Doesn't smell like watermelon” he remarked, “or sugar, for that matter."
“Yeah?” she asked with a grin, “What does it smell like, then?”
He considered for a moment, tempted to confess what the scent truly evoked for him—her presence, her essence, everything that made her uniquely YN. However, with a sly grin, he opted for a less sentimental response.
"Strawberry," he replied, keeping his more poetic thoughts to himself. "It's nice."
Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she laced up her shoes. "Well, keep it," she suggested, a playful glint in her eyes. "I have, like, two hundred sticks hidden everywhere."
"I don't use lip balm," he stated.
“Not rock 'n roll enough for you?" she teased, slipping into her jacket. "Still,” she added, a playful glint in her eyes, “that way you can remember me when I’m gone.”
A quizzical arch of his eyebrow prompted him to play along. “Are you planning on leaving me, Y/L/N?” he inquired with a mock-serious tone, leaning into the charming act.
“Depends,” she retorted, her eyes dancing with mischief, “are you in any hurry to be rid of me, Kiszka?”
A soft chuckle escaped him. "Well, I wouldn’t say I’m in a hurry, per se, but—"
“Oh shush, you.” With a swift motion, she tossed it at him. “I’ll call you when I get out of the studio,” she declared, leaning in for a quick peck on his lips.
With a final lingering glance, she headed out, leaving him staring at her disappearing figure with a stupid smile, the sweet taste of her kiss still lingering on his lips.
If only he’d known merely two years later, they'd find themselves almost estranged, maybe, just maybe, he would’ve forced her to stay, maybe he would've held onto her a minute more.
******************
Kneeling on the cool bathroom floor, Jake opened the cabinet under the sink, his hands sifting through an assortment of Josh's hair products. His fingers finally closed around it—a small, inconspicuous pink stick.
A momentary hope flickered that perhaps his memory had failed him, but as he held it in his hands, the label staring back at him, reality set in. The words on the label mirrored those etched in his memory. Unease settled in his chest as he was reminded of the fact that, once, he’d been the one not wondering if he could ever go without Watermelon Sugar.
_____________
Jake returned to the dining room, the echoes fading away as he rejoined the ongoing conversation among the boys.
"Well, I mean, I guess we’ll find out soon enough, right?" Sam's casual tone filled the room.
"Oh yeah, when is she landing?" Danny's curiosity sparked.
"It was supposed to be at 3, but her flight’s been delayed, so she’ll have to come here straight from the airport," Josh informed, his voice carrying a mix of excitement and anticipation, "and you’d better be ready by then because we’re leaving for the venue right after."
"Sure,” Sam deadpanned, rolling his eyes at his older brother, “we’re going to take lessons in punctuality from you."
The American Music Awards were taking place in Nashville that year, providing a perfect opportunity for YN to reunite with the band. As Jake listened to the details, he couldn't help but feel a sense of strange apprehension. No matter how much time went by, how many girlfriends he went through, the prospect of YN's return always stirred up memories he had buried deep within.
The anticipation in the room grew, mirroring the excitement buzzing through the city. As they prepared for YN's arrival.
_________
A few hours later, a caravan of cars eventually rumbled down their street, an entourage of professionals descending upon the Greta headquarters. Security personnel, stylists, makeup artists, and hairstylists orchestrated a controlled chaos, transforming the residence into a bustling hive of activity.
Amidst the organized frenzy, Josh stood ready to greet YN's manager, a familiar face accustomed to the whirlwind that accompanied the life of a pop star. "Patty! It’s been too long,” Josh hugged the imposing woman. “Where’s YN?" he inquired, slightly concerned at YN’s apparent absence.
Dramatic as ever, YN's manager responded, "Pop stars, my darling, you know the drill. The airport was flooded with people."
"Is she still coming?" Josh pressed for reassurance.
"Of course she is. The show must go on!" she exclaimed with theatrical flair, "We just had to resort to... unusual methods," she added with a mysterious grin.
"Jesus,” Josh quipped, a hint of exasperation in his voice, “is she in a car trunk again?"
"A magician never reveals their tricks, sugar," she replied. "Anyway, in the meantime we can zhuzh y’all up,” she seized the boy’s face in her manicured hands before adding with a wink, “YN insisted."
The ambiance in the house shifted, embracing the essence of a backstage prelude before a grand performance. The rooms echoed with laughter, snippets of conversations, and the occasional hum of hair dryers. The scent of hairspray wafted through the air, blending with the underlying excitement that filled every corner of the space. The members of Greta Van Fleet, caught between the surreal and the routine, allowed themselves to be swept into the whirlwind.
The boys navigated the hustle and bustle of preparation with an air of practiced nonchalance. Their planned outfits, carefully curated for the grandeur of the Billboard Music Awards, exuded a sense of rock-and-roll sophistication. The expertise of YN’s staff worked wonders, transforming the brothers' already charismatic looks into something ready for the dazzling lights of the red carpet.
Suddenly, the house erupted in noise and stir as YN's arrival was announced. The atmosphere crackled with anticipation as she was ushered inside, immediately surrounded by a flock of stylists and makeup artists. Their mission: to seamlessly transition her from airport-casual to red-carpet-glamour in 40 minutes time.
 Amidst the organized chaos, the brothers found themselves fighting to get close to their old friend, a playful struggle that Sam punctuated with a groan. "Hey, folks, this is still our house, you know?" he protested with a grin.
YN's eyes lit up as she looked up, her gaze finally meeting theirs. Her face broke into the brightest smile. "Hi!" she exclaimed, her voice carrying genuine warmth and excitement. The air crackled with a blend of familiarity and anticipation while they shared a collective greeting. Josh pulled YN into a tight hug.
Jake, with his trademark laid-back charm, extended a casual yet heartfelt greeting. "Hey there," he said, a lopsided grin playing on his lips.
Sam patted YN's head, "What's up, popstar?" he teased, a cheeky grin accompanying his words. As the hellos and laughter echoed in the room, it became evident that despite the divergent paths they had taken in the music industry, their connection remained unshakable.
"So sorry for the commotion, guys," YN said, an apologetic smile tugging at her lips, “I was stuck in JFK for hours.” Her eyes flickered with gratitude for their understanding, acknowledging the huge mess that had taken over the place.
"No worries," Danny chimed in with an easygoing shrug, brushing off any concern.
"Yeah," Sam nodded in agreement, “besides, it’s no more chaotic than any random Sunday morning at Josh's place.”
Josh, smiled tightly, “And guess who is not invited to my next brunch?”
YN laughed, appreciating the lighthearted banter. "I’ve missed you guys." She was suddenly called into another room for hair and makeup and disappeared into the whirlwind of her glam team.
___________
Josh made his way to what had once been his bedroom, now turned into a makeshift beauty salon. He settled into the chair beside YN, the room buzzing with the orchestrated chaos of hairstyling. She was sat, draped in nothing but a towel, her hair in the careful hands of a stylist. Amid the whirlwind of beauty products, Josh initiated their exchange.
"So…" he began, leaning closer to be heard above the loud blow-dryer, "anything new with you?"
With a radiant smile, YN responded, her voice rising to match the decibels of the styling tools. "Well, I'm excited for tonight," she shared, the anticipation of the upcoming event evident in her expressive eyes. Her words touched on the delicate balance of managing expectations in the spotlight, a window into the intricacies of fame that often lay beneath the surface. "What about you, love?" she asked, inviting him to share his own slice of life.
"Nothing much," he replied casually, though the inquisitiveness in his eyes betrayed a deeper curiosity. “Anything else?” he insisted, his probing question hanging in the air—It was a subtle dance, an attempt to delve into the unspoken realms between them.
YN eyed him with suspicion, a momentary pause of understanding passing between them before he met her gaze in return. She finally spoke, “You saw the articles, didn’t you?”
Josh grinned at her, his reply laced with a hint of playful sarcasm. "Well, I'm pretty sure a blind man could've seen the articles, babe," he quipped, drawing a light chuckle from the hairdresser immersed in her task.
 "Damnit," YN sighed, a touch of disappointment in her voice. The weight of public scrutiny and speculation was always an unwanted companion for her.
"So…?" Josh inquired, a mix of curiosity and disbelief in his voice as he awaited her confirmation or denial. YN remained silent, but a delicate smile betrayed her thoughts, a revelation that left Josh stunned. "Shit, it's true?" he uttered, the realization settling in.
“Our Y/N settling down,” Sam chimed in, entering the room, “I guess now we’ve really seen it all!” YN rolled her eyes playfully, the smile on her face still lingering.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Josh asked, his tone a blend of confusion and mild reproach, “We were on the phone literally a week ago.”
“I don’t know,” she shook her head, her eyes reflecting a mix of emotions under the bright lights of the makeup room. The soft hum of conversation around her, the subtle fragrance of cosmetics in the air. "It all went really fast. We met at a party in LA a few months ago and,” she paused, “I don’t know, we just hit it off, I guess?”
“Hit it off?” Sam remarked, glancing at his own reflection in the mirror, “I’d say it’s more than that.”
“Well,” A soft sigh escaped her lips, and she ran her fingers through her partially styled hair. “We weren’t planning on going public anytime soon,” YN explained, her gaze meeting Josh's, a sense of vulnerability lingering beneath the makeup and glamour, “but with the whole- music video thing, I guess it’s already happening.”
_________
Outside the room, the atmosphere was charged with a mix of excitement and tension. The hallway buzzed with the hurried footsteps of stylists and assistants. Jake, however, stood still, his eyes momentarily lost in thought after overhearing the conversation. The ambient light cast shadows on his face, revealing the subtle furrow of his brow.
As Danny approached, he could sense the undercurrent of unease in his bandmate's demeanor. "You, okay?" Danny asked, concern etched across his face.
"Mmh? Yeah, sure," Jake mumbled, but his voice carried a weight that contradicted his words. “I gotta go get dressed” he added, walking away.
__________
Back inside the room, the air carried a mix of emotions—joy, surprise, and a hint of playful banter. YN's eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and nervousness. "So, everyone knows?" she asked, nervously glancing at Josh, who nodded affirmatively.
"I still can’t believe it," Sam laughed, injecting a playful tease into the atmosphere. "Going from rockstars to boybands?” he teased, “I gotta tell you, YN, that’s- that's quite a downgrade."
Rolling her eyes, YN couldn't resist the opportunity for a retort, "Oh, shut up." With a smirk, she grabbed a hairbrush and tossed it in Sam's direction, "I'll have you know he’s doing very well with his solo career."
"Not wrong,” Danny joined the conversation, “and if I remember correctly, you were the one insisting on playing 'Sweet Creature' in the car last year, Sam."
"We've all got our flaws," the youngest retorted dramatically, drawing a collective chuckle from the room.
"Come on, now, I’m serious.” YN said, her tone lighthearted yet somewhat defensive, “Be nice."
Josh was surprised by the protective edge to YN's tone, prompting him to consider the depth of her new relationship. "We're just joking around, don’t worry," he reassured her, "I'm sure he's great."
Sam, never one to back down, continued, "now, whether he's actually cool enough for you is a different matter."
With a nonchalant air, YN replied, "Well, you'll get to find out soon enough." Her words hung in the room, creating a brief lull in the conversation. Curiosity and a touch of concern crept into Josh's expression.
"How… soon, exactly?" he eventually asked.
“Well,” she giggled nervously, “now that you mention it. How would you feel about- um," she paused, "I don’t know,” she toyed with the hem of her towel before mumbling, “tonight?”
“Tonight!?” the three boys exclaimed simultaneously, their expression registering shock.
“Well, he is nominated-” she began to explain.
“Tonight, as in, two-hours-from-now-tonight?” Sam asked, trying to process the unexpected revelation.
“Well, what’s wrong with tonight?” she asked, her voice slightly trembling as she tried to stay calm, “it’s a night—a good night, I- I would even say it’s a- a great night, right?” she looked to Josh for backup, “Right?”
“Holy shit,” Danny muttered, uncharacteristic reaction for the usually composed musician.
"Alright," YN’s manager burst into the room, punctuating her entrance with grand gestures. "Everyone who isn’t working towards turning our girl into a couture creature, out!" she declared with theatrical flair. "We are out of here in twenty minutes!"
The room quickly cleared, with only YN and her stylists remaining in their spot. YN grabbed Josh’s wrist abruptly as he got up to leave. “Can you, uh-” she hesitated, avoiding eye contact, “can you give him a heads up for me?”
Josh nodded, gently. No clarifications were needed. “Of course,” he replied, before exiting the room.
___________
Josh had the finishing touches added to his hair before approaching his twin brother, who was engrossed in the meticulous process of tying his dress shoes. He hesitated before breaking the silence, "So, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but, uh-"
“I heard,” Jake cut him off, his eyes still focused on the task at hand, hands moving with a precision that seemed almost automatic.
“And,” Josh paused, choosing his words carefully, “you alright?”
“Sure,” Jake responded with a nonchalant shrug, his gaze shifting momentarily to the mirror as he fine-tuned the arrangement of his jewelry. Josh couldn’t help but feel a sense of surprise at the lack of reaction from his brother. It left him questioning his instincts. Maybe they truly had both moved on. After all, it’s true that Jake had been the first to get into other relationships.
___________
After twenty minutes, YN finally stepped out, a vision of elegance in a custom gown that could rival the most iconic looks from the fashion archives. The dress seemed to embrace her figure like a second skin, and Jake couldn't help but feel a sense of awe as he took in the sight.
 The room fell into a momentary hush as everyone's eyes were drawn to her, and even Josh found himself momentarily silenced by the sheer presence she exuded. YN's confident strides and poised demeanor demanded attention, making it clear that she was more than just a musician – she was a force to be reckoned with.
"Gucci, huh?” Sam smirked teasingly, “Someone's living the high life now."
“Well, Samuel,” YN shot back with a sly smile, "someone had to bring a touch of class to this crew."
"So, this is what happens when one sells their soul and upgrades to mainstream, huh?” Sam retorted playfully.
YN, always ready with a quick response, turned to Josh, "I’m sorry, is the person dressed like the Messiah talking to me?" she asked, gesturing toward Sam’s attire. Her comment elicited laughter from the room.
"Shots fired," Danny declared.
In the midst of the banter, YN stole a glance at Jake. His black suit complemented his rugged charm, an open shirt revealing a glimpse of his chest adorned with dangling necklaces. He looked good.
As YN hurriedly climbed into the awaiting car, a sleek black vehicle poised to transport her to the event, a flurry of stylists and assistants encircled her. In a synchronized dance, they meticulously attended to the final details of her immaculate ensemble.
 Several assistants, keen on maintaining the gown's pristine appearance, worked in harmony to ensure it cascaded flawlessly around her. Every fold and movement were handled with the precision reserved for a precious work of art. The atmosphere hummed with an undercurrent of excitement as YN gave a wave and a spirited shout, "I'll see you there!"
Meanwhile, the members of the band swiftly jumped into the back of their own designated car, the car door closing with a soft thud. The convoy of vehicles, an orchestrated ballet of anticipation, set in motion, leaving the house behind and heading towards the event that awaited them.
______________
The sleek line of black cars glided to a stop, marking the arrival of the band at the glamorous event. As the car doors opened, each member emerged into the dazzling spectacle of camera flashes and the cacophony of enthusiastic screams from fans and journalists alike. Stepping onto the red carpet, they were immediately swept up in the chaotic energy of the moment.
The band, accustomed to the electrifying rush of performing on stage, felt a subtle discomfort in the spotlight of the red carpet. The controlled chaos of a live performance was far more natural to them than the orchestrated poses and smiles demanded by the array of flashing cameras. Despite this, they maintained a polished facade, exchanging smiles, waves, and nods with the eager crowd.
Navigating the sea of journalists, each band member expertly fielded questions and posed for photos, their years of experience having honed their ability to navigate the less comfortable aspects of fame.
The sudden surge of screams reached a crescendo, capturing the band's attention as they turned to witness the arrival of YN. Her presence, ethereal and captivating, stole the spotlight. The custom gown she adorned seemed to possess a life of its own, catching the glow of the venue's lights.
 Her assistant fussed over the gown's train, making sure it trailed behind her effortlessly, as she stepped onto the red carpet, met with the undivided attention of everyone present.
YN was a natural at all this. Of course, anyone who truly knew her could see the slight tremor in her hands and the discreet heaving of her chest behind her composed appearance, but she played the part with finesse, engaging effortlessly with the cameras, flashing smiles, and striking poses.
With a radiant smile, YN gracefully walked towards the band. Deciding to seize the moment, she posed for a couple of photos with the band, creating a visual feast for the delighted fans whose cheers resonated in the background.
The intimacy was palpable as they exchanged smiles. After a brief interlude, they parted ways, the band venturing a little further to engage with journalists, while YN lingered, extending her time to pose for additional photos.
The band continued answering questions from journalists, the atmosphere buzzing with excitement. Suddenly, a surge of deafening screams erupted from the crowd. Heads turned, and there he was – Harry Styles. Screams and gasps spread through the onlookers, all wondering if they were about to witness the confirmation to what they had all been speculating about.
Anticipation reached its peak as Harry walked over to YN. He gently grabbed her by the waist, and together, they posed for the cameras, effectively hard launching their relationship to the public as the flashes illuminated their smiling faces.
The band members exchanged discreet glances, a mix of surprise and curiosity evident in their expressions. As they continued answering questions, their attention intermittently diverted to the unfolding scene. Fans were ecstatic, their screams echoing in the air, and journalists feverishly snapped photos of the unexpected couple.
Jake stood with a thoughtful expression on his face. The turn of events seemed to have unexpectedly caught him off guard. As he continued with the interview, his responses held a subtle undercurrent of distraction. The unfamiliarity of seeing YN in the arms of another man had stirred quiet contemplation within him.
______________
The prestigious event started with grandeur. Seated at separate tables, the band and YN navigated the star-studded gathering, each absorbed in their own conversations. The vibrant energy of the venue resonated with the collective excitement of attendees, a mix of industry luminaries, celebrities, and devoted fans. The stage, adorned with dazzling lights set the scene for a night of celebration.
As the ceremony kicked off, artists from various genres took to the stage. The evening unfolded and the band couldn't help but exchange amused glances and subtle eye rolls. Clear instances of lip-syncing from certain artists drew their collective skepticism, a sentiment seemingly shared by few others in the room.
The audience responded to each performance with cheers, applause, and sometimes even tears. Greta Van Fleet eventually took the stage with an electrifying energy that reverberated through the venue. The unmistakable sound of roaring guitars and thunderous drums filled the air as the band launched into one of their signature hits.
As Jake's fingers danced across the frets of his guitar, delivering powerful riffs that cut through the air with precision. There was a noticeable intensity in his playing, as though he’d been compensating for something unseen.
As the members of Greta Van Fleet walked through the backstage area, the exhilaration of their performance still coursing through their veins, they stumbled upon YN. Her eyes sparkled with genuine excitement and pride congratulating them enthusiastically. "You guys killed it up there, as usual," YN exclaimed, as she pulled them into a tight hug, always their number one fan. “I’m next, I have to change, but I wanted to see you all first.”
They were suddenly distracted by the sight of YN’s assistant carrying a ridiculously massive bouquet of roses into her dressing room.
 Sam to playfully inquired, "Loverboy?"
A shy smile tugged at YN's lips as she nodded, "He's- a little extra," she admitted.
Jake couldn't help but recall that YN had always preferred daisies to roses but chased the thought away immediately.
With a gentle nudge from Josh, YN snapped back to the present. "Alright, we’ll leave you to it then,” he said, “Give 'em hell," he added, maintaining a long-running tradition.
 "Sure will," YN replied as she headed off to prepare for her own performance.
As YN's name echoed through the venue, the crowd erupted into a symphony of screams, their excitement palpable. YN gracefully ascended the stage, adorned in a simple silk slip. A genuine smile played on her lips as the frenzy of the crowd intensified.
 The atmosphere was charged with anticipation as she settled behind the piano, her fingers poised above the keys. Once the audience calmed down, she started playing.
The audience fell into a collective hushed reverence, hanging onto every note and every nuance. Throughout the performance, glances exchanged among the crowd spoke volumes.
Amidst the sea of enraptured faces, Jake found himself descreetly drawn into the universe crafted by YN. From his vantage point, the stage lights framed her in a soft glow, casting an enchanting aura around her figure.
His eyes followed her every movement and the crowded venue seemed to fade away, leaving only YN and the echoes of her melody. The vulnerability in her performances always tugged at something within the guitarst, a reminder of the shared history that lingered between them.
As the final notes hung in the air, the applause thundered through the venue. Brought back to the present, Jake joined the enthusiastic ovation.
___________
The glitz and glamour continued to sweep through the venue. The stage saw a procession of artists and creators, each claiming their well-deserved accolades. Awards were handed out, speeches were delivered, and the audience reveled in the collective spirit of recognition. In this whirlwind of excitement, the moment for the most coveted award approached, adding a layer of suspense to an already dazzling night.
The atmosphere in the venue crackled with tension as Kelly Clarkson announced the nominees for the highly anticipated "Artist of the Year" award. YN's heart raced, and she fidgeted in her seat, her nerves palpable in the moments leading up to the reveal.
 As the presenter uttered YN’s name among the nominees, a surge of nervous energy gripped YN. Seeking solace, she glanced over at Josh, finding reassurance in his playful encouragement from two tables away—two thumbs up and an exaggerated, silly expression that managed to coax a smile from her. The room held its breath as Kelly Clarkson opened the envelope, unveiling the winner.
The cheers from the crowd enveloped YN as her name echoed through the venue, and she sat there, momentarily frozen, the magnitude of the recognition sinking in.
YN eventually rose from her seat, a mixture of shock and joy playing on her face. She took the first steps toward the stage. The anticipation of the crowd created a surreal ambiance, the cheers and applause merging into a harmonious melody of celebration.
However, as she reached the bottom of the stairs, a momentary panic seized her. The elegant expanse of her gown posed an unexpected challenge, leaving her unsure of how to navigate the ascent gracefully. In that heartbeat of uncertainty, a comforting touch enveloped her arm, and she turned to find someone had rushed to her side. Jake.
His presence, as reliable as ever, was a silent reassurance. Without uttering a word, he linked his arm with hers, a subtle gesture that conveyed both support and familiarity. Together, they embarked on the climb, the cheers of the crowd still in the background.
“Congrats,” he breathed with a prideful grin once they reached the stage.
She mouthed a “thank you” in response, her own smile mirroring his.
As Jake settled back into his seat, his gaze unwaveringly fixed on YN, who now stood poised at the stand, a mix of nerves and excitement dancing in her eyes. The room hushed in anticipation, the spotlight now solely on her.
As YN began her thank-you speech, all words seemed to momentarily vacate her brain, leaving a genuine vulnerability that resonated with the audience. The microphone in front of her captured the tremor in her voice as she expressed gratitude and humility.
"I-I uh, want to first extend my heartfelt appreciation to my incredible fans," she began, her eyes scanning the sea of faces before her. "I'm endlessly grateful for your unwavering support, God knows I’ve needed it lately," a chuckle erupted in the crowd.
The room hung on her every word, and Jake, from his seat, felt a surge of pride for the woman who had once shared her dreams and fears with him.
As she navigated the speech, a captivating blend of sincerity and humility. “Oh, gosh, so many people to thank, I already know I’m going to forget a bunch” she rambled nervously, and slight laughter erupted in the room.
“I’d like to thank my manager, my crew, of course, my friends, my, uh,” her gaze instinctively found the members of the band, seated proudly at their table, “my family,” she winked at them with a chuckle. The boys shared a collective moment, blowing a kiss her way, their eyes gleaming with shared triumph.
She continued expressing gratitude to key figures in her life and career, the room buzzed with a contagious energy. With a confident smile, she concluded her speech, leaving the audience with a poetic resonance that lingered in the air.
__________
The grand finale of the event unfolded like the crescendo of a spectacular symphony. YN gracefully danced through the maze of flashing cameras to reach her awaiting car, a modern-day muse amidst the paparazzi chaos.
The band, too, exuding the effortless cool of rockstars, threaded through the sea of lights in a rhythmic procession.
The engines hummed in harmony, syncing with the pulsating energy of the night as they embarked on a journey through the neon-lit streets, where every flicker tells a story of fame, music, and the allure of the after-hours. The fleet of sleek, tinted cars converged, creating a glamorous caravan destined for the city's heartbeat—the long-anticipated after-party.
____________
The club's entrance radiated a neon glow as the members of Greta Van Fleet strode through the entrance, greeted by the pulse of bass and the vibrant hum of the crowd inside.
The venue, a chic downtown club, pulsated with an electrifying energy.  
The band navigated through the throng of A-listers, the air punctuated by laughter, clinking glasses, and the occasional flash of cameras capturing candid moments.
As the animated chatter and laughter enveloped the venue, Jake engaged in a riveting conversation with none other than Jimmy Page.
They were exchanging anecdotes when suddenly, the entrance erupted with cheers, prompting Jake to glance across the lively crowd. There, making a striking entrance, was YN, adorned in a sleek black dress, accompanied by her new beau. The cheers amplified as the couple embraced the spotlight, and Jake watched from afar.
Retreating from the buzzing atmosphere of the party, Jake immersed himself back into his captivating conversation with the guitarist. The exchange of musical tales continued to flow, momentarily sweeping away any unease lingering in his mind. However, after a while, he sensed the need for a change of scenery.
Making his way to the bar, he sought solace in the company of Sam and Danny. Ordering himself a whiskey, Jake leaned against the bar, the amber liquid a familiar comfort.
In the lively chatter of the party, he appreciated the anchor provided by his bandmates. Despite the external facade of confidence, Jake had never been much of a socialite, leaving that to his twin brother.
Events like these had a tendency to leave him longing for something stronger than whiskey, an itch he'd been trying to steer clear from for over two years now. Ever-mindful of the shadows that lingered within, he found relief in the presence of Sam and Danny.
Suddenly, Josh’s voice cut through the ambient noise. “There they are!” He led YN and Harry towards his bandmates, a grin on his face. As the trio made their way through the crowd, the anticipation among the band members heightened. Jake shifted slightly, his attention now fully on the approaching trio.
"Hey!” YN announced with an infectious enthusiasm as they reached the bar, “So, this is Harry," she squeezed her boyfriend’s arm, nervously, “And, Harry, this is the band.”
The boys exchanged pleasantries, Sam and Danny offering friendly smiles while Jake, not one to be overly expressive, extended a nod of acknowledgment.
Harry, ever the charmer, reciprocated the introductions with genuine warmth. "Pleasure to meet you all. YN's told me so much about you. Big fan.".
The exchange was cordial, and as it flowed, YN ensured everyone felt included. Harry, charismatic and engaging, effortlessly integrated into the circle, which seemed to make YN ecstatic.
As the conversation meandered through various topics, Harry turned to Jake and decided to share a common experience. "Love the long hair,” he remarked with a friendly grin, trying to strike a chord of camaraderie, “I used to rock it too, miss it sometimes."
Jake, initially caught off guard, responded with a hint of indifference, "Do you, now?" His tone, unintentionally brusque, drew a subtle side-eye from Josh, who discreetly stepped on his brother's foot, a non-verbal prompt to play nice. Caught in the act, Jake quickly corrected himself. "Well, short suits you, man,” he said softening his tone, “I've just always been too lazy to bother with haircuts, I guess."
            “If only Josh was the same,” Sam joked nudging Josh playfully, “I swear that one spends more time at the salon than the studio.” The tension diffused, and the conversation continued, albeit with a newfound awareness from Jake to navigate the social waters more gracefully.
The night continued its crescendo, the pulse of the party echoing through the lively venue. As Jake continued to sip on his drink at the bar, his gaze inadvertently gravitated toward YN and Harry. The duo, wrapped in the warmth of each other's company, seemed to float through the crowd.
The sight tugged at a spectrum of emotions within Jake’s inebriated mind. Harry's hand rested casually on her waist, a gesture that spoke volumes. Laughter flowed effortlessly between the two of them, creating an aura of intimacy that eclipsed the surrounding revelry.
The party unfolded in layers, each moment a brushstroke in the canvas of the night. Yet, beneath the surface of celebration, Jake couldn't shake the complex emotions that swirled within him. The alcohol served as a temporary buffer, but the currents of his contemplation ran deep, hidden beneath the veneer of the lively gathering.
Jake felt a sense of relief wash over him as he stepped into the cool night air, the bustling sounds of the lively club gradually fading behind him. Pulling out his phone, he swiftly ordered a cab to take him back to his sanctuary of solitude. Just as he confirmed the ride, YN's voice cut through the night.
"You're leaving, already?" she asked. Surprised, he turned around to meet her figure. Her eyes reflected a mix of curiosity and disappointment.
"Yeah,” he admitted, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “I'm exhausted."
Her gaze lingered on him, a subtle worry lingering in her expression. "You're not driving, are you?" she inquired after a moment, her concern tethered to memories of a past filled with reckless habits.
The weight of the implication made him sigh. "I ordered a cab," he reassured her, hoping to ease the concern etched on her face. Despite her attempts to appear nonchalant, the genuine worry in her eyes didn't escape him.
"Good," she nodded, a soft exhale escaping her lips. A brief pause filled the space between them before she added, "It's a shame you can't stay longer."
As the night air embraced them in a cocoon of quiet, Jake sensed the nervous energy radiating from YN. No words were needed to decipher the unspoken thoughts swirling in her mind. With a knowing smile, he addressed the unspoken concern.
"Tell Harry bye for me,” he said, his tone light and reassuring “he's a cool guy."
YN's face immediately lit up, gratitude and relief washing over her. "I will," she responded.
In the ensuing quiet, a gentle moment lingered between them. "Alright," Jake said, breaking the silence, "you should go back inside; you'll freeze to death out here."
"I'm okay," she insisted, a subtle shiver instantly betraying her words. Without hesitation, Jake peeled off his jacket, but just as he handed it to her, Harry's voice echoed from within the club, disrupting the tranquility.
"YN, love, are you coming back in?" Harry's call prompted a sudden pause in the exchange.
Realizing the implications of his gesture, Jake hesitated before gently urging her, "You should go." She looked at him hesitantly. "I'll be fine," he insisted, his eyes holding a quiet reassurance.
As she pondered, a gust of chilly night air swept through. The glow from the club's entrance cast a soft halo around her silhouette. The distant sounds of laughter and music from the after-party lingered, creating an ethereal backdrop to their conversation.
"Alright, but-” she hesitated, looking down, “that means I won’t see you before flying back,” she confessed, her voice holding a note of longing, the unspoken yearning for more time evident in her eyes.
“You’re not staying at the house?” Jake probed gently.
Her response wavered, caught in the delicate balance of unspoken truths. “No, I- uh,” she stumbled over the words. Realization dawned on him – Of course she would be staying in a hotel with Harry. “I-”
“Gotcha,” he interjected, sparing her the need to articulate the unspoken details. The ambient sounds of the night heightened the tension, the brief pause heavy with unspoken sentiments. A distant laugh, the muted beat of music, and the cool breeze carried a collective weight.
“YN?” Harry's voice echoed once more, a reminder of the reality waiting inside.
“I’m coming!” she shouted back. She turned her attention back to Jake, “So…” she said, “I’ll see you soon?” He nodded in response and she retraced her steps toward the illuminated entrance.
She stopped in the doorframe. “Jakey?” she called once more, her hesitancy palpable as he turned to face her again, “Take care, okay?”
He smiled. “You too,” he replied as she disappeared through the door, leaving him in the embrace of the quiet night, his thoughts as contemplative as the stars overhead.
Next Track: Style
Masterlist
Hope you liked it! Once again, I am begging you all to interact and leave comments it makes me so happy to get feedback and reactions xxx
Also, this is only the beginning lol. I have a billion drafts for other chapters so stay tuned, peaceful army.
Taglist
@aintthatapity
@sinarainbows
@vanfleeter 
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