#tomorrow I have a promising dinner to look forward to. and the next day? noodles | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nctsworld · 3 years

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lucky strike

✩ renjun x reader | college au | fluff | friends to lovers | 2.3k

SUMMARY ⇾ you ask to stay over at your friend’s place on campus for the night, which leads the two of you to realize your feelings for each other. WARNINGS ⇾ fluff, kissing, roommate!haechan, haechan’s a little shit RATING ⇾ teen+ PROMPT ⇾ college au + fluff REQ BY ⇾ anonymous

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

Tomorrow, you have a midterm at 6pm, then another at 8am the next day. Since commuting would already eat away so much of your time, you ask around in hopes that you could stay with someone on campus overnight to make your life easier. Unfortunately, most of your friends are either off-campus or don’t have the space to spare.

Except for your friend in acapella club, Renjun.

Knowing he lives on-campus, at the end of your practice, you explain your situation and inquire if you can stay with him tomorrow evening. You don’t think it’s a huge deal since you two have been friends for almost a year, yet his eyes widen at your question as the other members trickle out of the room. Despite his reaction, he doesn’t hesitate in his response.

“Yeah, sure. I have room at my place.” He stands up and lets his backpack hang from one shoulder. You do the same, but with a pleased smile now that your search is finally over. “Although... do you remember Donghyuck?”

“Oh yeah, he sometimes drops in during practice, right?”

Renjun nods, “I’m sure you could tell how he is from those few times. Even though he’s my friend, he’s also a little shit and, unfortunately, my roommate.”

The two of you begin to walk out of the room, shoulders brushing against one another, and into the open hallway.

“I doubt he couldn’t care less if you’re coming over, but do you think you’ll be okay with him?”

He scrunches his nose cutely in genuine concern, a habit you notice he often does during practice when frustrated. You chuckle, waving your hand and his worries away.

“I’m sure I can handle him, Renjun.”

Suddenly, the young man stiffens due to the arms that drape around his neck, dragging him into a hug. Although this isn’t the first time you’ve done so, he still freezes from the embrace.

“Thank you, I really appreciate it,” you whisper softly into his ear, squeezing him tighter to show your gratitude.

Because of your firm hold and how you’re cheek to cheek, heat rises upwards to Renjun’s face and ears. He ponders if you can feel his warmth on your skin, and if you can feel the knocking of his heart against your chest. Carefully, he hovers a hand over your back, fingers ghosting over your body to reciprocate the hug.

“Yeah, of course.”

“So, you like her?”

Later that evening, Renjun informs Donghyuck of your upcoming presence in their apartment during dinner in said apartment. The latter’s question is expressed, which causes the noodles that are about to be devoured by Renjun hang in the chopsticks near his agape mouth.

“No, why would you say that?”

The roommate snickers at the defensive rise in Renjun’s voice before picking around the plate filled with grilled meat in front of him.

“Why would you let her stay over at our place?”

The follow-up question stops Renjun once more from eating. The noodles continue to drip the soup base back into the bowl and splatter a bit of it around the table. The older roommate furrows his eyebrows and spews, “Because I’m a good friend?”

Squinting eyes filled with doubt stare back at Renjun. He sighs, shaking his head.

“Just be on your best behaviour tomorrow, yeah?” he says, finally stuffing his face with the noodles. The younger of the two sticks one piece of meat into his mouth and quickly adds a few more.

“Mmm, no promises,” Donghyuck mumbles with his full cheeks, now shoving the white rice from his bowl into his mouth.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!”

The next evening arrives fast. After finishing your midterm, you rush on over to Renjun’s apartment and are greeted by his candied smile as he opens the door.

“Hey, come on in.”

While you’re removing your shoes by the front door mat, you peer around and find his place quaint. It’s a little run-down and not the most spacious apartment; you’re directly standing in the small kitchen and it’s only a few steps from the slightly bigger sized living room. However, there’s a balcony that oversees a nice view of the campus, a fireplace across from the couch and coffee table, and, for two college boys, the space isn’t as messy as you expected.

“How was your midterm?”

“Don’t ask,” you groan. “I’m not looking forward to the next one.”

“Well, I’m sure you did well.” Renjun beams in comfort, but you’re too focused on taking your shoes off.

You set your shoes aside, ensuring they’re not obstructing the doorway. Standing up, you ask, “So, where should I set down my stuff?”

The host opens his mouth, ready to answer, but a familiar figure comes out of a room to cut him off.

“Renjun’s girlfriends always stay with him when they come over, so you can put your stuff in his bedroom—ow!” Your friend jabs his elbow into Donghyuck’s rib cage and you stifle a laugh.

“Ignore him. Anyway,” you trail behind him, entering the living room. “If you don’t mind, I was thinking you could sleep on the couch. There’s also the fireplace, so it’ll be nice and warm and—”

“It’s perfect,” you interject, halting Renjun’s rambling. “Again, I really appreciate it.”

You touch his arm for a brief moment, smiling warmly at him, before you place your backpack down beside the couch. His hand grazes over the spot on his arm and he nibbles on his bottom lip. Then, a low rumbling occurs from your stomach.

“Have you eaten yet? I’ve been dying to get food since the midterm.”

“Not yet. Let’s go pick something up.”

Also dying for food and dying to get away from his roommate’s existence, Renjun hastily turns around towards the kitchen counter to take his keys.

“Can you get food for me?” Donghyuck chimes in.

With his back facing Donghyuck, he shoves the keys into his jean pocket. “Are you going to pay me back?”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

“Then, no.” Renjun turns and flashes him a snarky grin.

It’s not like sass and sarcasm didn’t exist in Renjun’s vocabulary, but it’s amusing to you to see him act like this outside of acapella club.

Your friend and you begin to put your shoes on, but the third figure in the apartment whines and groans endlessly for Renjun to pick-up dinner for him.

“If I buy you something, will you leave us alone for the rest of the night?”

Your sudden offer and brazenness shocks Renjun, yet leaves an impressed smile on his face.

Leaning against the wall, Donghyuck folds his arms against his chest and eyes you up and down. You hold your ground and stare back at him. After a long beat, he faces Renjun.

“I like this one,” he comments and waggles his finger at you, as if you aren’t there. You roll your eyes, realizing Renjun really wasn’t exaggerating when he said that his roommate was a little shit.

“Is that a yes?”

The little shit nods, “Renjun will let you know what I want. You two lovebirds don’t take too long now!”

You’re the first to step out the door, so you don’t see Renjun baring gritted teeth at Donghyuck, causing the latter to flinch out of reaction. Both of you exit the building complex, heading towards the pack of restaurants on campus.

On the way out, Renjun makes a deliberate effort to not bring up the topic of being labelled lovebirds from before. You don’t bring it up either, so he assumes you aren’t thinking too much of it.

Little did he know, it’s actually all you’re thinking about; his roommate just shined a new light on how you see Renjun.

When you return to the apartment with food in hand, Donghyuck keeps his word and eats in his room, leaving both of you on your own.

Perhaps it’s because of the seed that was planted by his roommate, but over the last hour or so, you’ve been hyper aware of how you interact with Renjun, and vice-versa—how at ease you are with him; how he makes you laugh effortlessly; how he listens intently, hanging onto every word you say; how his stare often lingers on you; how, despite having different majors and interests outside of acapella club, both of you simply click, fitting as one like a lock and key.

Come to think of it, this is the longest time beyond practice you’ve spent one-on-one time with Renjun. Sure, you’ve hung out during get-togethers at other members’ places and at the yearly retreat, but being alone with him is different. It also feels right, as if you should do this more often.

After the food’s gone, Renjun questions if you’re going to study more for the evening. You answer with a shake of your head, citing you’ve studied enough today and will likely do more before you sleep.

You propose, “Are you busy with anything tonight? Do you wanna watch movies or something together?”

“Sure. Anything in mind?”

Pouting in thought, you reply, “I’m kind of in a Marvel mood. Do you like Marvel movies?”

The grin that forms on Renjun’s face isn’t alien to you, but it produces a remarkable feeling in your chest, one that doesn’t come regularly to you.

“I love them.”

Sinking into the couch, you observe the host prepare one of the Avengers movies on the living room TV. When he’s done and sits next to you, he reaches for a remote, which turns the fireplace on, fittingly warming up the apartment on this cool, autumn evening.

Your attention is on the movie for the first bit, but it begins to transition onto the handsome individual next to you. He’s so invested in the movie, even though he’s apparently seen it a million times. Your gaze sketches the outline of his jawline, absorbs the beauty of the nuances in his expressions, and then rests upon his hand laying on his thigh.

Impetuously, you reach for him and hold his hand gently within yours.

Like with your hugs, Renjun freezes upon your touch, but it’s even worse than those occasions since this time, he almost forgets to breathe. He blinks once, twice, before glancing down, not moving his head whatsoever, at the reality of your affectionate touch. When he peers up at you, you’re pretending to be fixated on the screen. However, your face says otherwise—your lips are pressed together in a simper, cheeks puffing out in nervousness.

The hand-holding is awkward since your fingers aren’t laced together, so Renjun anxiously draws his hand away, fearful of wrecking the moment with the absence of his contact, then hurries to intertwine his fingers between yours.

Neither of you break apart nor say anything throughout the rest of the movie, enjoying each other’s company and new level of intimacy in comfortable silence.

As the movie ends and the credits roll on the screen, neither party on the couch hasn’t let go of the other’s hand yet.

“Renjun,” You’re the one to break the extended silence in a delicate murmur. You recline and settle your head onto the curve of the couch. You blink at him and he follows suit, blinking back at you merely a few inches away. Your thumb rubs circles against the back of his hand. “I like hanging out with you.”

His throat goes dry, so he gulps, then whispers back:

“I like hanging out with you too.”

It’s not a blatant confession, but both of you understand the underlying intention of your words.

Your head cranes forward and meets his lips. The first kiss is a chaste one—very still, the pressure of your mouths pressed against each other lightly.

After a bit, with your heads still laying on the couch, Renjun raises a hand to cup your cheek, deepening the forthcoming kisses. His lips are soft and smooth, his kisses tender and careful. You’ve only had a small taste, but you already want to drown in his kisses forever. Both of you lift yourselves off from the head of the couch and shuffle your bodies closer to one another, increasing the excitement of the budding affection.

“Don’t mind me, I”m just getting—” Donghyuck gasps at the sight in front of him.

At the intruding voice, one of Renjun’s eyes shoots open. He attempts to wave his roommate off, hoping he won’t ruin the moment.

“I knew it!” he mouths, prior to grabbing a drink silently from the fridge. Respecting his promise, he scuttles off back to his room.

Studying is a forgotten concept as the two of you make-out for the next few hours upon the couch. The crackling and warmth of the fireplace engulfs your bodies amidst the intermittent giggles and sighs.

Eventually, you withdraw from his addictive embrace and prepare to go to bed. You decide it’d be best to keep to the initial arrangement of you sleeping on the couch. Renjun respects your decision wholeheartedly.

But neither of you don’t say your last good nights until you’ve shared a few more kisses first.

When morning comes, following a brief cram session of studying and you getting dressed, you knock on Renjun’s bedroom door. You open the door slowly, head peeking through to ensure you aren’t catching him in a state of indecency. A small smile creeps over your face, indulging in how adorable and angelic he looked as he slept. You shake him lightly, stirring him half-awake.

You drop onto your knees beside his bed, whispering, “Renjun, thanks for letting me stay over. I had a really nice time last night.”

“Mmm, of course,” he grumbles, eyes barely open.

“I’ll text you after, okay?”

He groans mechanically in response, making you feel a tinge of guilt for disturbing his peaceful sleep.

You give him a good-bye kiss, simply a peck on his lips, but when you rise and turn around, you don’t expect the sleepy figure to grasp you by the wrist, dragging you down for a more intense kiss.

“Did you really expect to leave me with a kiss like that?” he mumbles into your mouth.

You’re thankful to be on campus since the lecture hall is close by, so you have the luxury to stay for another ten minutes in Renjun’s arms, and you’re definitely going to be staying on campus a lot more often in the near future.

#renjun #huang renjun #renjun scenarios #renjun imagines #renjun fluff #renjun x reader #nct #nct fanfic #nct fluff #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream fluff #nctcreations #mywritings #myrequests #writingrequest

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tennessoui · 3 years

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I absolutely love your KUWSK snippets and had to read them all after discovering the first part on ao3! (I should also work but I'm non stop giggling instead)

May I ask for: anakin being stressed out (big deadline coming up, handling the kids, work & cooking being too much) so obi-wan wants to help him out? Like he tries to cook for the family for once but I remember you saying that he can't cook to save his life? maybe rope the twins into it as well as a nice bonding moment

hello!!!! i've been meaning to write this for ages and i kept getting side-tracked/didn't have the time to sit and write a proper ficlet, but I did today! Here's 1k now, and I'll post the whole thing tomorrow afternoon(ish) on ao3. I mis-remembered the prompt until it was too late to really change directions, but so this is more of a sick!fic than a stressed out!fic but I do promise KUWSK Obi-Wan does step in even when Anakin is not sick to help with the kids, the clean up after cooking, helping them with homework, keeping the house tidy etc etc

anyways here is the beginning of sick fic! (SET about a month before The Kiss, 2 years after Obi-Wan and Anakin and the twins move in together)

It’d be much easier to take care of Anakin when he’s sick if he would actually admit to being sick.

“Skywalkers don’t get sick,” he’d insisted just a day ago. Obi-Wan had raised a very pointed eyebrow towards the twins who are looking quite pathetic, sniffling in their beds and coughing into their fists.

“That’s their Amidala genes,” Anakin had said and then sneezed into his elbow.

Obi-Wan had known at that moment that the next few days would be very awful for everyone involved.

But Anakin is making it much worse than it has to be, he really is. Thank god it’s midterm week, so Obi-Wan can finagle his TAs into proctoring the exams. Thank god he has four TAs for his biggest lecture module, so that they can grade them all too, which means Obi-Wan just has to read through and mark up his capstone students’ midterm essays.

Which he can do from the comfort of his own house turned Emergency Skywalker Walk In Clinic.

The twins had woken up with a fever and a sore throat on Wednesday. They’d never been sick in the two or so years they had all lived together, and Obi-Wan, admittedly, had not known how to handle it.

Anakin, in a surprising twist of fate, had been much more level-headed about the whole thing. He’d called the school to let them know the twins wouldn’t be coming in, and had asked Obi-Wan to run to the pharmacy before his classes to pick up some meds for them. And perhaps a thermometer.

(“I can’t believe you’re forty-four and you don’t have a thermometer.”

“Well, that’s not fair. I have one in the kitchen.”

“That’s different and you know it--”

“Of course it's different, I was just theorizing that perhaps having a kitchen thermometer actually makes up for not having a person thermometer.”

“Yeah, and instead of giving the kids baths and changing their sheets, we can just baste them in their own fever juices too!”

“I’m going, I’m going.”)

He’d calmed down in the face of Anakin’s own composure, but then on the way to the pharmacy he’d listened to a podcast episode about devastating and lifelong effects certain illnesses can have on children, and he had managed to work himself up into a stressful tizzy by the time he parked the car.

The amount of products he’d bought, Obi-Wan can admit now, was a little over the top. Anakin had certainly laughed when he’d come back through the door, not even bothering to take his coat or shoes off--even though the no-shoes-inside rule is his rule--and started unpacking the four plastic bags worth of medical supplies.

“Well, now I’ll feel bad if the kids aren’t sick until June,” Anakin had said, picking up one of the cough syrups to examine the label.

“That kind will make them sleepy, but this kind tastes like grapes,” Obi-Wan had muttered. “And this kind is okay to give to children under four.”

“The kids are--”

“I know how old the kids are,” Obi-Wan had snapped. “This is called being prepared.”

“This is called diagnosable,” Anakin had laughed and then ducked out of the way when Obi-Wan chucks a package of band-aids--he’d panicked, okay--at his head. “Hey,” he’d said after a moment, coming forward and placing his hand on Obi-Wan’s elbow. The contact had burned through the layers of clothing he’s wearing. “They’re going to be fine, Obi-Wan, really. I’ll be home all day taking care of them, and I’ll make chicken noodle soup for dinner tonight.”

“I can make chicken noodle soup for dinner,” Obi-Wan had protested. “You don’t have to do everything.”

“Obi-Wan, they’re already sick,” Anakin had shaken his head with a grin. “The point is to try and feed them something they’d want to at least try to keep down.”

“I hate you,” Obi-Wan had sighed with a quirk of his lips.

“I love you,” Anakin had said, as if that was something he said on the regular, reaching out to take the thermometer from his hand. Obi-Wan’s grip had gone slack though, causing the thermometer to clatter to the counter. “Like a brother,” Anakin had tacked on hurriedly and then winced.

“Right,” Obi-Wan had coughed, wondering why the addendum made his chest feel tight and strange, like missing a step on the stairs. “Well. Yes. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” Anakin had said, looking even more mortified.

“Right. Ah. So. I’m. Going to campus. If the twins need anything else, please let me know. I’ll pick up whatever you need for...dinner on my way home. Just text me.”

“Will do,” Anakin had agreed, staring resolutely at the cabinets over Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “Bro.”

And to his credit, Anakin had texted him with a long list of things they’d need from the store.

He’d just also failed to mention his own rapidly declining health. Obi-Wan had arrived home to Anakin coughing up a storm in the dining room and the twins bundled up and bleary-eyed in front of the television.

The chicken soup had not been made that night because Obi-Wan had not allowed Anakin anywhere near the kitchen. Instead he’d fed the children toast and applesauce and let them keep watching their show until bedtime.

Anakin had been left alone for the most part, as Obi-Wan had been convinced that Anakin would see reason himself and stop working as he started feeling progressively worse.

That had, of course, been too much to expect.

“I can’t believe you’re twenty-eight and don’t know how to listen to your body when it’s trying to tell you you’re sick,” Obi-Wan had said, lowering and slowing his voice in a bad imitation of Anakin.

“I don’t sound like that!”

“You’re right, you couldn’t get through that whole sentence without coughing at the moment."

“I’m going to bed.”

“Please do. And for god sakes, Anakin, leave the laptop down here."

“Good night, Obi-Wan."

#asks #KUWSK #the rest of it is just obi-wan trying to care for all of his lil sick baby skywalkers #anakin included

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moonlit-jeno · 4 years

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valentine (m.)

pairing: reader x jung jaehyun x johnny seo x kim jungwoo x kim doyoung

genre/warnings: explicit sexual content | fivesome | mentions of drinking | absolute filth

words: 3.8k

summary: a series of unfortunate events leaves the five of you alone on a day meant to be spent together

“You’re back early.” Doyoung comments, glancing up from his phone to watch you storm into your apartment. He’s in the same spot on the couch that he was in when you left.

You throw your purse onto the counter, angrily stripping your coat off. “Yeah. The guy blew me off. Can you believe that?” You walk into your room and peel your dress off of you, trading it for a comfy pair of sweats. The lingerie stays on, though. It makes you feel cute. When you come back into the living room, Doyoung hands you a beer and pats the space next to him. “He didn’t even text me until I’d been waiting for fifteen minutes.” “Yeah well, he’s a fucking asshole.” Doyoung says it like he’s stating the obvious. You guess he is. “But hey, at least you can spend some quality room with your roommate who isn’t an asshole!” You raise your eyebrows. “Yay.” There isn’t an ounce of emotion in your voice.

Doyoung glares at you but he can’t be too annoyed. He hands you the TV remote. “You choose. My ex changed the password on my Netflix account and won’t let me log back in, so. That’s not an option.”

“You’re kidding. Do you want me to go to her house?” You normally leech off of Doyoung’s Netflix account, so this is a direct attack to you.

He snorts. “I’ll think about it.” It’s an hour later and you’ve flipped through every station the TV has to offer, finding nothing but shitty made-for-tv romance movies and game shows. You give up watching and pick up your phone, checking social media. An array of happy couples assault you and you groan, switching apps. It isn’t any better.

“Valentine’s day is stupid.” Doyoung groans, clearly in a similar state of boredom.

“Amen.” You click your phone off and let your head fall back against the couch, finding the ceiling more appealing than the endless Snapchat stories.

“Definitely the worst holiday.” You think about it for a moment. “Hey, no. Think about all the candy they’ll have on sale tomorrow.” His agreement is interrupted by a knock and you exchange a glance with him. “Did you invite someone over?” He shakes his head.

You swing the door open to reveal Johnny and Jaehyun. Johnny’s holding a cake and smiling broadly. Jaehyun looks dead inside.

“Hey?” You greet them, slightly confused as to why they’re at your apartment. Doyoung doesn’t look like he has any idea either. “What’s up?” “Well, we were going to go out to dinner for Jae’s birthday but the restaurant lost our reservation and everywhere else was beyond crowded.” Johnny’s laugh is almost apologetic. “I knew Doyoung was staying in, but I thought you had a date.” His eyes roam over your figure, clearly taking in the combination of your loose sweats and stained sweatshirt. “Yeah, I had a date. He blew me off.”

Both boys grimace. “Shit. Want me to kill him?” You step back to let them in, laughing lightly. “Nah, that’s alright. Come on in, we can sit in our misery together.” Johnny and Jaehyun smile and shuffle in, though Jaehyun’s looks a little forced. “I can’t promise you a gourmet dinner, but we do have frozen pizzas and ice cream.” Jaehyun laughs. “Sounds pretty gourmet to me. I’m gonna use the bathroom, if that’s alright.” The three of you watch him walk away before Johnny turns to you and Doyoung.

“Sorry to barge in, but he always gets so lonely on his birthday, and I wanted to cheer him up. I don’t think that him seeing all the couples out tonight really helped.” Johnny sighs.

You grimace. “Oh god, yeah.”

“You know you’re always welcome over.” Doyoung shrugs. “Not like you were interrupting anything.” He walks away to turn the oven on, pulling out the pizza. “It should take twenty minutes? Not really sure. Our oven’s kind of broken.” Johnny laughs. “No problem. Can I set this down somewhere?” He raises the cake in question and you motion to your counter. “Are we feeling wine or vodka tonight?” Jaehyun makes his return at the exact moment you ask the question.

“Definitely vodka.” He responds, already pulling the glasses out of your cupboard. You snicker. It certainly is that kind of night.

Johnny’s phone chimes and he checks it, snorting. “Seems like a bad night for all of us. Ten just abandoned Jungwoo for a date.” “Tell him to come over.” Doyoung says. “We’ll have a party of our own.”

Jungwoo shows up 30 minutes later, equipped with bags of takeout and a pout on his face. You don’t have enough chairs for everyone so you eat it on the couch, squished between the arm rest and Jungwoo. “We were supposed to go clubbing.” He whines, stripping his jacket off. “I even put on my expensive cologne.” “Rough. Who’s he out on a date with, anyway?” He shoves half the container of noodles into his mouth. “Someone on Tinder! Can you believe that he abandoned me for a Tinder match?”

“Unbelievable.” Jaehyun pats his back while the rest of you nod solemnly. Johnny pours the rest of you shots.

“Fuck Valentine’s day.” He raises his glass in a toast before tossing it back, grimacing slightly. A chorus of ‘fuck Valentine’s day’ sounds around the room as you follow suit.

You’re all tipsy by the time you move onto cake, singing a very dramatic version of happy birthday to Jaehyun. He giggles his way through it, dimples making an appearance as he blows the candles out..

“What’d you wish for?” You demand, leaning forward. Jaehyun winks at you and holds a finger to his lips. “Can’t tell you or it won’t come true.” You pout. He pinches your cheeks.

Johnny takes charge of cutting the cake while Doyoung runs to the kitchen, returning with a can of whipped cream and some ice cream. Jungwoo looks down at the slice Johnny gives him, and then back up at Johnny with raised eyebrows. He shoves the whole piece into his mouth in one go. Johnny gives him a significantly larger second piece.

“You know what the most devastating part of tonight is?” Jungwoo asks, spooning ice cream onto his cake. “I’m not even going to get laid. That’s like, the one thing I was hoping for.” “Hey, that’s what I wished for!” Jaehyun exclaims. His head rests heavily on Johnny’s shoulder and Johnny laughs, patting his back.

“I thought you said that you couldn’t tell us or it wouldn’t come true.” You chime in.

Jaehyun shrugs. “Not like it’s gonna come true anyways.” “I’m pretty sure that’s what we were all wishing for.” Doyoung chimes in.

Johnny raises his forkful of cake. “I’ll toast to that.” “Same.” You respond, trying to remember the last time you had sex, then trying to remember the last time you had good sex. Then you pause. “Wait. You’re all hot as fuck, how are you not getting laid?” They all shrug. Jaehyun grins, dimples on full display. “Aww, you think we’re hot. Would you sleep with us?” Maybe it’s the alcohol that has you nodding, maybe not. You’ve always been shameless, especially in front of people you’re comfortable with. “Yeah? Like I said, you all hot as fuck.” “You’re pretty hot too, y/n.” Johnny says. “I don’t know how Doyoung can live with you and not be sexually frustrated as fuck.” Jungwoo giggles. “He is, though.” Doyoung smacks the younger and Jungwoo squeaks, still laughing. You shoot Doyoung a questioning look and he just shrugs.

The five of you continue eating, finishing the cake and chatting mindlessly. “Y/n,” Jungwoo is suddenly way too close, using his hand to tilt your chin up. “You have a little something…” He uses his thumb to wipe at the corner of your mouth at the same time that you flick your tongue out to lick at the stray whipped cream. The result is Jungwoo’s thumb sliding past your lips, and for whatever reason, your brain tells you to suck on the digit. And you do.

Jungwoo watches with wide eyes as you close your lips around his thumb, using your tongue to tease the tip of it as you suck. A soft moan leaves him, his eyes groaning wide. He swallows thickly.

“Oh, baby.” Jungwoo groans, sliding his thumb out of your mouth and replacing it with his lips. You all but melt into the kiss, pressing forward into him, sliding your hand into his hair to pull him closer.

You get so lost in the kiss that you forget about the rest of the people grouped around the couch. It isn’t until Jungwoo starts kissing down your neck and you let your head fall to the side that you notice.

Jaehyun and Doyoung are watching you with slack jaws, eyes locked on the blissed out expression you wear, ears straining to catch the noises you make. Johnny looks unaffected, watching with something dark in his eyes.

You try to pull away but Jungwoo growls, something so startling for the normally soft spoken man. He slides his hand up your thigh, pulling you over to straddle his waist. There’s a sharp gasp as you rock your hips down on instinct, feeling the shape of his cock through the fabric of his jeans.

“Seems a little selfish of you to ignore the birthday boy.” You and Jungwoo make out for a bit longer before Johnny speaks up. You turn your head to find Johnny standing in front of you, his hand on Jaehyun’s lower back to push him forward. “Why don’t you give him his present?” You bite your lips and turn yourself around on Jungwoo’s lap, sitting so that your back is to his chest. “What do you want?” Jaehyun seems to debate the question, glazed eyes roaming over your figure. “I want...” His tongue darts out to wet his lips and he swallows thickly. “I want to taste you.” “What the birthday boy wants.” You shrug, trying and failing to seem unaffected. In reality your panties are soaked and you’re beyond excited to have Jaehyun’s face between your thighs.

He wastes no time sliding your pajama pants off, revealing your bare legs and your panty clad core. You’d forgotten about the lacy lingerie set you’d slipped on earlier until Jaehyun snaps the waistband of your panties against your skin.

“Oh shit,” Jaehyun moans, sliding his hand up your bare legs. “You're so soft.” Doyoung laughs despite himself. “Guess that’s where all the hot water went.” You open your mouth to respond but get cut off as Jungwoo pulls your sweatshirt over your head. Similar swears echo around the room. “Fuck baby, who is this for?”

Jungwoo pinches your nipple over the fabric of your bra and your back arches, pushing your chest further into his touch. You moan softly, letting your eyes flutter closed. “Me, bitch. I deserve to feel sexy.”

“Fuck yeah, you do.” Johnny groans at the same time Doyoung chimes in with a “Look even sexier.”

You squirm as Jaehyun attaches his lips to your ankle, kissing his way up your leg until he’s at your thigh. The ticklish feeling has you squirming but you’re held in place by Jaehyun’s large palms.

A hand slides into your hair and you whine, looking up to find Doyoung staring at you with dark eyes. “Can you make me feel good, princess?” You nod, leaning forward to mouth at the bulge in his boxers and he swears, struggling to tug the fabric off with one hand. A second pair of hands land on Doyoung’s hips and the man jumps, looking back to find Johnny there. “You look like you need some help.” Is all he whispers as he slides Doyoung boxers down.

Doyoung looks ready to argue but you’re sinking your mouth down around him before he can, just sucking at the tip. He’s bitter on your tongue, but not unpleasant. It’s certainly worth it to be able to watch his eyelids fluttering closed, low moans leaving him.

A whine leaves you as Jungwoo continues to play with your chest, pinching at your nipples over the lace of your bra until there are tears in your eyes. His dick is hard against your ass and you rut back against him, drawing a sweet moan from him as he tugs harshly at your nipples. You cry out but the sound is muffled around Doyoung’s cock.

Jaehyun chooses that moment to attach his mouth to your center, kissing and sucking at your core through your panties. A whine leaves you as you buck up against his mouth, trying to get more. You go to pull off of Doyoung but then there’s another set of hands in your hair, forcing you down until Doyoung’s cock hits the back of your throat.

“Oh baby, you can do better than that, can’t you?” It’s Johnny, guiding your pace from where he stands behind Doyoung. His eyes are heavy as he watches you blow his friend, and you catch the subtle movement of his hips as he grinds against Doyoung.

You let out a muffled noise of agreement, sucking harshly on Doyoung’s cock. He fills your mouth up nicely, your lips having to stretch a little to fit him, but not too much. Tears well up in your eyes as you take him deeper into your throat, gagging lightly.

There’s a tearing sound as Jaehyun rips your panties off of your body, wasting no time before diving into your core. His nose bumps your clit as he fucks you with his tongue, his hands sliding up to grip at the back of your thighs as he tries to pull you even closer to his face. You cry out at the pleasure coursing through your veins, squirming as your mind runs a million miles an hour, trying desperately to process the situation. Jungwoo’s hands massaging your tits, Doyoung’s cock deep in your throat, Jaehyun eating you out like you’re his last meal.

You force your heavy lids open and make eye contact with Johnny. He’s watching you with fire in his eyes and it’s the last you register before you’re coming, yanking your mouth off of Doyoung’s cock and biting into the skin of his thigh. Your legs try desperately to close around Jaehyun’s head but neither him nor Jungwoo let up, working you through your high until you’re a sobbing mess. It’s only then that Jaehyun pulls away from you, though Doyoung doesn’t seem to have the same reservations. You’ve only just caught your breath when he slides his cock back between your lips, fucking into your mouth, once, twice before he’s shooting his come down your throat.

It’s quiet for a minute as you catch your breath, sagging back into Jungwoo. Jaehyun’s still between your legs, though he’s resting his head against your thigh. Your eye catches movement and you lean forward to watch Jaehyun jerk his cock desperately, hips bucking up into his hand.

You literally just came but already your body is heating back up. Suddenly you need to have all of them, need them to fuck you until you can’t even move, until they’re imprinted in your body. You run your hand through Jaehyun’s hair, tugging at the strands to make him look up at you.

“Let me take care of you now.” Jaehyun nods, blinking slowly, and then it’s a race to get to the bed. You all crowd into Doyoung’s room because he’s the one with the bigger bed, and suddenly he’s forgiven for all the times he's forgotten to do the dishes.

“God, I want to fuck you.” Jungwoo moans, clambering onto the bed. A whimper leaves you as you think about having him in your pussy, but then you look over to Jaehyun and your mouth goes dry at how desperate he looks. He has his hand shoved down the front of his pants and he’s grinding against his palm, jaw slack as he pleasures himself.

“Mhmm, me too. Jaehyun’s first though.” You pant out, trying to help Jungwoo out of his skinny jeans. Jungwoo whines impatiently. “You have two holes though. Why can’t we just share?” You vaguely hear Johnny laugh over the white noise in your brain. The idea of having both of them fuck you at once has you feeling much too hot, and you cringe as you feel more wetness drip out of you. “You seem to like that idea.” Johnny comments, stroking your side softly. You whine.

“But what about you?” You realize that he hasn’t been touched yet and you move your hand to cup him over his boxers. He hisses.

His voice is strangled as he gently bats your hand away, moving off the bed. Doyoung takes his place. “I’m okay with watching, for now. I’ll get my turn later.” You nod, turning to Jaehyun. “Jae, baby, do you want to fuck my pussy? Or my ass?” Jaehyun’s hips stutter where he’s still grinding against his hand and he looks at you with wide eyes. “Fuck, you can’t just ask me that.” He groans, pausing his movements to strip his clothes off. “God, can I fuck your ass?”

You grin, nodding. Doyoung ghosts his thumb over your ass and you jolt, moaning at the touch. “Johnny, condoms.” You wave your hand in the general direction of your nightstand and he gets the hint, throwing a handful of condoms and a bottle of lube at you.

Doyoung wastes no time in sliding one of his long fingers into your ass. The stretch has you hissing but he pays you no mind, starting a gentle rhythm and smoothing his hand down your side. Jungwoo rolls a condom on and hisses as he strokes himself, head falling back at the relief.

“Wait,” You pause Doyoung, crawling over to Jungwoo. “Wanna ride him while you finger me.

Jungwoo strokes your hips as you straddle him, sinking down onto his cock slowly. His face screws up in pleasure and he lets out a moan, the sound so pretty that it has you clenching around him. He moves to undo your bra, letting your breasts fall free so that he can bury his face between them. His hands cup them perfectly and he massages them, turning his head to leave kisses on the skin.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” Jungwoo moans, the words muffled by your chest. You hum in agreement, swiveling your hips to feel the thickness of his cock, how nicely he presses against your walls.

Doyoung fucks two, then three fingers into your ass, turning you into a moaning mess as you fuck yourself onto both Jungwoo’s cock and Doyoung’s fingers. You already feel so full, but you know it’s about to get so much better.

“Jaehyun.” You moan, turning you head to find the man. “Jaehyun, come on, want you in me.” He nods, reaching for a condom, but Johnny beats him to it. You watch with a slack jaw as Johnny rolls the condom onto Jaehyun, pouring lube onto his cock. Johnny strokes Jaehyun just a little too slowly to be considered comforting, and Jaehyun’s face contorts as he tries to fuck up into the others grip.

Johnny lets go and pats his hip. “I think Y/N’s tight ass is going to feel a lot better than my hand.”

Jaehyun sits up, flustered, and moves to replace Doyoung. You whine at the loss of the man’s fingers, though you cut yourself off with a gasp as Jaehyun presses the head of his cock against your fluttering hole.

Jungwoo kisses you through the discomfort as Jaehyun slides his cock into your tight hole, stretching your body beyond anything you’ve ever felt. You can’t stop moaning and you feel like you can’t breathe, desperately trying to gasp for air. Jungwoo eventually pulls away to let you rest your forehead against his, his hand moving down to find your clit. You jolt against him and whine, molten lava filling your insides.

Jaehyun lets out an almost feral groan when he bottoms out, panting heavily. “You feel so good.” Jaehyun swears. “So fucking tight, baby. Have you ever let anyone fuck your ass before?” “Yeah, but I-” He starts moving and your voice dies, your mouth opening in a silent scream. Jungwoo fucks up into your pussy, his head falling back.

“But?” He asks sweetly, encouraging you to finish. It’s almost impossible with how they’re touching you, though. Jungwoo must know it.

“But I’ve never had two guys at once.” You whimper, giving up trying to hold yourself up and letting them manhandle you. “I feel so full.”

They build up a rhythm, tearing you apart piece by piece until you’re a mindless, moaning mess. You swear you’ve never felt this good. All your nerves seem to be set on fire, and it seems like there’s a knot building in your stomach as your climax grows closer.

Doyoung once again finds comfort in your mouth, his hips bucking up as you suck him off. You moan at how full you feel, being surrounded by three guys while a fourth one watches. It’s absolute heaven.

“Jungwoo.” Johnny calls out. “Ten just texted you. His Tinder date was a flop.” “Shouldn’t have abandoned me.” Jungwoo calls back. “Though with how tonight’s going, I’m not sure I can be mad.”

Jaehyun pulls his mouth from your neck and you whine at the loss of heat, squirming as he blows cool air over the area. “Send him a picture of us. Show him what he’s missing out on.” You make the neediest noise you’ve ever made in your life at the suggestion, and all three men swear. The vibrations travel up Doyoung’s cock and he fucks up into your mouth, choking you. “Yeah? You all okay with that?” A chorus of yes’s go around the room, though Doyoung doesn’t let you pull off of him. “Y/N? You good with that?” “You should’ve felt how fucking tight she got when you said that, she’s more than okay with it.” Jaehyun pants out.

Doyoung briefly lets go of you when Johnny says “I need to hear her say it.” You cough for a minute before yelling out a “please, yes” and taking Doyoung’s cock back into your mouth.

There’s a click as Johnny takes the picture and you clench again, sending Jaehyun and Jungwoo into a frenzy. Jungwoo groans and dips his head down to mouth at your breasts, sucking hickies into the delicate skin, taking your nipple between his lips. Jaehyun pulls his hand back to land a slap on your ass, leaving his hand there to knead at the flesh.

Doyoung moans out that he’s coming and you swallow his come for the second time that night, panting as he lets you rest your head on his thigh. A phone chimes repeatedly and Johnny laughs, turning the ringer off. “Looks like Ten liked our picture.” The thought of someone else seeing you like this, wanting to be in this situation, fills your mind and you tip over the edge, vision whiting out as you moan wantonly. You claw at Jungwoo’s shoulders as you try desperately to ground yourself, sandwiched between the two men.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come.” Jaehyun groans, hips snapping against your ass sloppily. You whine, clenching around him repeatedly, the oversensitivity too much. Jungwoo pays no mind to the fact that you’ve just come, continuing to fuck up into you. “Fuckkk,” Jaehyun pulls out of you quickly and you hiss at the loss. Wet warmth hits your lower back, your ass, and the top of your thighs and Jaehyun curses loudly before collapsing on the mattress with a satisfied moan.

Jungwoo comes soon after with his mouth on one of your breasts, his hand on the other. You bounce on top of him to help him draw it out for as long as possible, going until he’s throwing his head back and crying out from the sensitivity.

Johnny’s the only one who hasn’t come yet. He sits next to the bed in Doyoung’s desk chair, stroking his cock slowly, almost lazily. It’s thick and long and looks delicious. You want it in your mouth.

He smirks, clearly catching your hungry gaze. “Aww, baby still wants more?” His voice is taunting but you don’t even care, just nodding obediently.

You roll onto your back and spread your legs, giving easy access to the man. Johnny just shakes his head. “Turn over. Want you on your hands and knees.” He wastes no time sliding into your dripping core, starting a brutal rhythm right from the start. You cry out and try to keep yourself up but Johnny shoves your chest to the mattress, pulling your hips higher so that he can get deeper. His body is draped over yours, his chest flush to your back. You can’t physically get any closer.

“Such a fucking cockslut.” Johnny hisses into your ear, voice low and delicious. “Letting four different guys fuck you, come on you. Bet you wish there were more.” You whine and make some sort of noise of agreement. “Ten’s probably jerking off to that picture I sent him. Does that make you happy?” Johnny nips at your earlobe and slides his hand down to rub at your clit. “Or are you upset? You probably rather that he was here, probably want his cock in your mouth too.” Another whine leaves you and Johnny pinches your clit. You thrash, the feeling too much. Your orgasm is rushing to the surface, electricity shooting through your body as the knot grows tighter and tighter. “What was that?” “I want it! Fuck, I want his cock in my mouth.” You moan, eyes rolling shut. “Fuck, I’m gonna come, ‘m gonna come.”

Johnny fucks you through your orgasm, hissing filthy words in your ear as your vision blacks out, registering nothing but how fucking good you feel. You clamp down around his thick cock and he groans, pulling out and ripping the condom off, jerking himself off all over your lower back.

Jungwoo crawls closer and kisses you, gently helping you come down. You’re shaking in your post-orgasmic bliss, lifting an arm to pull him closer. Jaehyun presses in from the other side, stroking your hair and peppering kisses all over your forehead.

You flinch when a damp cloth lands on your back and you turn to find Johnny smiling apologetically, cleaning the come off of your skin. “Sorry, I’ll try to make this quick.” A hiss leaves you as he wipes between your legs, squirming at the discomfort. Jungwoo swipes a finger through your folds and you hiss, biting his lip harshly. He giggles.

The five of you redress, both Jungwoo and Jaehyun stealing one of Doyoung’s shirts. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, wondering where Jaehyun’s shirt went, but then you realize that it’s his shirt that he’s tugging over your head. The fabric is warm and smells amazing. You want to sink into it.

“Do you need anything?” Doyoung asks, rubbing his hand up your thigh. “You were amazing, by the way. It wasn’t too much, was it?” You shake your head. “No, it was perfect. I wouldn’t mind a piece of cake, though.”

Doyoung leaves to get the cake, complaining when he comes back and finds there’s no room for him.

("It’s my bed!”

“Okay, and? That’s also your chair.”

“Yeah, and this is my fist about to go into your face”)

It’s 1 AM when you check the time and it’s certainly much too late for them to go home so you tell them to stay, letting them arrange themselves among the couch and the guest bed.

“Doyoung?” You ask, hesitating by the door. Your bed is big and warm and empty right now, but that’s not what you want. Not after what you just experienced. It’s too empty. “Doyoung, do you think I could stay with you tonight?”

He seems surprised by your question but he nods, shifting over to give you room. “Of course. But you're the big spoon tonight.” You snort. “That’s good with me.”

The two of you arrange yourselves comfortably, and it’s so painfully nice that you could cry. You can’t even remember the last time you cuddled someone like this. “Hey Y/N? Happy Valentine’s day.” “Happy Valentine’s day. I guess it isn’t the worst holiday after all.”

#nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct u smut #jaehyun smut #johnny smut #jungwoo smut #doyoung smut #nct imagines #jung jaehyun smut #johnny seo smut #kim doyoung smut #kim jungwoo smut

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imaginativeamateur · 3 years

Text

[Gaara X Reader] You Feel Like Home {Part 6}

Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7 Epilogue

~~/ / “Because you’re important,” he bluntly said, “to the target.” / /~~

With that, Shikamaru left, leaving the rest of you with questions. Temari figured out the meaning behind his words and coolly yanked Kankuro outside to leave you some space with Gaara. You did not dare to face him as you were overwhelmed with emotions, or uncertainties to be exact.

“You heard him,” Gaara regarded as he approached you.

“Ga—,” You abruptly stopped as he hugged you from behind, tight and warm. This hug felt somewhat different, more affectionate, and softer.

“You are very important to me, Y/N!”

You placed your hands on his arms, it all made sense now. The Akatsuki must have seen Gaara and you together and thought that you were together, which explained them kidnapping Konoha’s Shinobi and breaking into your room to collect some information.

“It was because of me that my comrades are hurt,” you choked at the realization, “I hurt them.”

“If you want to blame, blame me.” He embraced you even tighter. “If it wasn’t because of me, you wouldn’t be pulled into such things and your comrades would be fine. You would be fine!”

Your eyes widened.

“No, it’s not your fault, Gaara.” You spun around, hands on his chest, how could you be so selfish? “Gaara, listen. You’re not the wrong one here. We have no idea of this whole thing, no one is responsible for anything.”

“I know, that goes the same for you, okay?” He nodded and suddenly leaned in to whisper to your ear, “You did not disagree with Shikamaru’s words earlier, what does that make us then?”

You blushed and hid your face from his overwhelmingly soft gaze, this was not what you anticipated for a confession. You inaudibly mumbled, “A person of importance to one another.”

“I can’t hear you, Y/N,” he smirked.

“I said you are as important to me as I am to you!” You sped through your words and lifted your face to him, unconsciously lost in his eyes.

“I know.” He leaned his forehead into yours, your noses were touching each other.

“Then promise me to stay safe.”

“I promise.”

They left when the sun was beginning to rise, you made your way to the hospital and went through the list of preparations to make sure the Medics would be ready to treat the wounded in four days. Gaara assigned another Sand Shinobi under his command to work with you through the process. You started off by informing the hospital staff about the incident and that they had some time to prepare, not forgetting to mention that there might be more people wounded than the number anticipated. The meeting ended and their Head Medic split up the responsibilities for different individuals to be in charge of.

You went back to your room at the Sand siblings' house and tried to sleep. Last night was not so great. You flipped and turned on the spare bed, ridding the pessimistic thoughts that overwhelmed your mind. Your room was in the corner, next to Temari and across from Gaara. Temari and Kankuro were fast asleep when you and Gaara returned from dinner at a random place that he pulled you in. You then waved him goodbye before heading to your room, but he was faster. Gaara successfully pinned you against the door and cushioned the impact with one hand between your back and the hard material.

"What are you doing?" You tensed at his sudden action.

"Showing you how much you mean to me." He leaned forward and rested his head against yours as he slowly placed his lips on yours, "I really love you, Y/N."

Your gaze softened as you leaned into the kiss, your first kiss, mumbling, "I love you too, Gaara."

You loved him, too much.

That night, you went over their plan in your head for Kami knew how many times, fearing the worst. You were well aware of how strong the Akatsuki members were, you did not want them to get hurt, but you knew that only they could rescue the others. You did not sleep for the whole night, walked out of your room in the early morning after had washed your face and brushed your teeth. With your droopy eyes, you successfully earned an amused wave of laughter from Kankuro, who at that time, was sitting on the couch waiting for his siblings.

Gaara was eyeing you as he approached your figure lying on the couch, "Did you sleep well? You look tired, Y/N."

"No, not really," you whispered and slowly got up to follow them out of the house.

"You don't have to come with us," the red-haired turned as you walked through the door.

"I'll go with you guys, I can't sleep. Besides I have things to do after you guys leave."

He nodded and the others hummed in response before walking off.

You smiled at the events replaying through your mind, still feeling Gaara's lips on yours from yesterday, the butterflies in your stomach, and the way his hands perfectly rested on your body. It was too good to be true, too good to be real. Silently, you prayed, they would return, they had to.

Each day passed was pulling you closer to your hope, and inescapably, fear. It was poignantly agonizing to be waiting for the uncertain future to dawn. The first day went by as you buried yourself in getting everything sorted at the hospital and writing a report to the Hokage. The second day was spent with you doing paperwork and training with other Shinobi to calm your growing anxiety. On the third day, you could not sleep, instead, you paced back and forth in your room, standing up then sitting down, tomorrow would be the day. You had heard nothing from Gaara since and that worried you, at the same time, assured you that they did not encounter anything that would require them to request extra support.

You woke up even earlier on the fourth day, barely had any sleep at all, and stationed yourself at Suna’s gates. You did not bother to move when the sun rolled from the horizon, solely looking in the direction that they headed off three days ago. With your hair down and free in the air, skin bathing in the early morning light, you quietly stood, awaiting their arrival, his arrival.

The morning already went by as you sat in a small noodles stall to have your first meal. You figured you could probably leave Suna just to go a little bit further into the direction of the Akatsuki, that way you would be able to greet them as soon as they came near the village. It would not do any harm for sure. The alacrity was burning in your veins as you stood up and paid, persuading the Sand Shinobi beside to come with you, which was not an easy task, but you managed to accomplish it with endless pleadings that got him on his nerves, he eventually gave up. Crossing the gates of Suna, you made sure no one was following your steps and started sprinting with your companion right behind. This was your first mistake of the day.

The sun was directly shining above when you both entered the wood. The area was completely empty with no signs of chakra or movements. You continued to walk for about half an hour and abruptly stopped when you sensed a familiar appearance from afar, too familiar, making the Ninja behind stumbled, nearly tripping off his feet. You turned around just in time to catch one of his arms but were coincidentally pulled down by the gravitational force as you lost your balance in the process. He landed on the ground hard, and you fell on top of him, your face hitting his protected chest. Now, this was your second mistake of the day.

“Sorry,” the Sand Shinobi used his hands to raise himself up to sitting, closing the gap between your face and his.

“It’s okay,” you instantly got off his body and helped him off the ground. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m perfectly fine, thanks,” he smiled and his eyes glistened as he looked behind your back, “Kazekage-sama.”

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Taglist: @dai-tsukki-desu

#gaara x y/n #gaara x you #suna no gaara #gaara x reader #kazekage gaara #gaara imagines

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kitkat1003 · 3 years

Text

Where the Ice Crushes the Wave

Warning, this fic contains instances of:

Dubious Consent Possession Emotional Manipulation Abuse Minor Character Death Hurt No Comfort Blood and Gore

Summary:

I don't know if you've heard of Possessed Tang, but it's everywhere on tumblr, and it's basically an excuse to hurt Pigsy. I decided to go ham. The warnings I put are real. Viewer Discretion is advised.

AO3 Link

Pigsy notices something is wrong immediately.

It’s not hard. He’s been watching Tang for years, knows him like the back of his hand. He knows that Tang is always there when he opens, at least for a few minutes. They’ll banter, then Tang will disappear for a few hours before arriving at lunch to steal some noodles. At some point, Pigsy will yell, chase him out but not really, and Tang will laugh all the while.

On a good day, Pigsy will invite Tang upstairs, and they eat dinner in Pigsy’s apartment. They’ll sit in front of the TV for hours, making fun of idiots in cooking shows, and Pigsy will deliberate over and over on the idea of moving his hand to hold Tang’s. He never does, because he’s afraid to push, afraid to ask for too much and lose what he already has.

Pigsy can feel the power he has, vibrating in his skin, hidden because the person he used to be is not who he wants to be now, ever. He knows that if he let that loose, if he grew tall and strong and dangerous, everyone around him would suffer; he holds it all in.

He just waits for Tang. He can be patient. He has spent a thousand years learning to be, and he thanks his master for teaching him, because if he was to wait for anything it would be this.

He’d spend an eternity and a day waiting for that.

For four days, though, Tang doesn’t come to the shop at all.

Pigsy texts him, calls him, and gets nothing. He shouts more, is biting and sharp for those four days, wracked with worry and desperate for answers.

He searches even the town once. Twice. He waits, because that’s what he’s good at, but at the same time he wants to grow large and take charge, to roar into the night and shake the world until it tells him where his Tang is.

Four days of waiting before Tang appears in the shop in the morning. He smiles and waves, as if he hadn’t blown Pigsy off for four days, as if he hadn’t worried Pigsy sick.

“Where the hell have you been?!” Pigsy grabs Tang by his scarf and pulls, too angry and worried and hurt to stop himself.

Tang starts but gives him an easygoing smile in return. That’s what tips Pigsy off first. The curve of the lips is wrong, more cunning than kind.

“Sorry-family emergency.” Easy deflection. Tang shrugs. “I kept meaning to text you back, but stuff kept coming up.”

Pigsy could almost accept that, except Tang has never brought up his family before. To talk about them now, it seems too...convenient. And regardless of that, Tang has never left Pigsy in the lurch like this. It’s too out of character. A quick text to say ‘I’m okay’ would take but a minute. Tang is kind enough to give Pigsy a minute of his time, he wouldn’t just let Pigsy sit worried.

Right?

He stares at Tang, squinting a little, and almost lets him go. But then.

“You changed your glasses,” he notes.

The rims are blue. He can see traces of snowflakes on the lenses.

Tang smiles, eyes shut and head tilted to one side. Pigsy is suddenly aware of something dangerous, sitting beneath his friend’s skin. The hairs on his arm stand up straight, and it is so, so obvious now that this isn’t Tang at all.

“Yes,” Not Tang says, and his smile is all teeth. “Do you like them?”

Pigsy knows a challenge when he sees one, and he takes a breath.

“Prefer your old ones, actually,” he grunts out. “Blue isn’t your color.”

Not Tang laughs. It sends a shiver down Pigsy’s spine. But it isn’t just fear, no, his cheeks color.

“On that, Pigsy, we will have to disagree.” His name out of Not Tang’s mouth sounds foreign, but it’s Tang’s voice, and Not Tang curls something soft and sweet around Pigsy’s name like it knows.

Pigsy goes to work, and firmly refuses to look over his shoulder.

He can feel Not Tang’s eyes on him anyway.

MK doesn’t notice anything wrong with Tang. Mei doesn’t either. Not Tang tells MK a story, talks animatedly with Mei about her next race and promises to be there. Pigsy makes a bowl of noodles on autopilot and hands it to Not Tang. Not Tang holds the chopsticks differently. Not Tang doesn’t slurp up the noodles and fails to give Pigsy a smirk when he finishes the bowl, like Tang would have.

Pigsy is tense the whole day, and he waits until MK heads upstairs and the shop is closed to do anything.

“Can I walk you home? Figure we should talk. Haven’t seen ya in four days,” he jerks a thumb towards the door. Not Tang tilts his head to the side, and his glasses flash in a way that is so familiar, and yet makes Pigsy shiver again.

“Sure. I missed you.” And Pigsy is taken aback, because it sounds like Not Tang means it. Maybe he—no, he knows this isn’t Tang.

But how much is it not Tang?

They walk out of the store, and down a block or two. Pigsy doesn’t know where Tang lives, though he suspects somewhere near the library, but Not Tang is following his lead. Looks like Not Tang doesn’t know, either.

He grabs Not Tang by the scarf, and drags him into an alley. He slams Not Tang against the wall, hard but not too hard because Not Tang is still Tang’s body. Tang is still mortal.

“I don’t know who the hell you are,” he starts, and he lets his tusks out, baring his sharp teeth like a challenge, a growl in his throat. His eyes glow ocean blue, his nostrils flare. “But you better get the fuck out of my friend or—”

The words die in his throat as Not Tang laughs, cold and dark, and as he looks up and sees his own gaze met with something sharp and blue and icy.

“Or what, Bajie?”

His voice has an undercurrent of something familiar, another voice Pigsy recognizes. He wracks his brain.

“What, don’t recognize me? Not surprising, when only one of your troupe ever could.”

That has Pigsy stumbling back, because he knows, now, he knows what that means. It’s a stain on his pride, one of his many regrets, it’s—

“Baigujing,” he breathes, and she laughs.

“In the flesh, so to speak. Does he suit me?” she asks, tugging on Tang’s skin and hair like one might with clothes.

She frowns, tilts his head to the side at an unnatural angle. “I’m not a fan of red,” she tells him. Then Tang changes, hair black to white from the roots. It travels down, red to blue, silver to gold. His skin gains a blue tint, as well. The air around them drops in temperature, and Pigsy can see his breath.

She brushes herself off, takes a little bow, and all Pigsy can see is Tang who isn’t—this isn’t—how did she—

She takes a confident step forward, and Pigsy, in all his rage, still only sees blue.

“You get out of him right now, or—”

In a flash, she pulls out a knife and presses it against Tang’s throat. Pigsy sees a few spots of red from where she’s pressing the blade, and cool terror sinks down his spine. She wouldn’t, would she? He can’t be sure, with how she’s wielding the weapon like a promise. He takes a step forward out of panic, and stops when she raises a brow.

“You do anything but what I say, and I stain this new outfit.” She smiles, and it’s Tang’s smile, the one that Pigsy melts under the sight of every time.

But here, now, he’s ice. Fear roots him to the spot and Pigsy swallows the lump in his throat.

“And if I tell the others about ya when you aren’t looking at me?” he grinds out between gritted teeth.

She tilts her head to the side. “Why would they believe you? After all, you wouldn’t believe your own brother,” Pigsy flinches, remembering how easy it was to get Triptaka to banish Wukong, because Bajie never would pass up an opportunity to call his brother a liar, to hurt him. “Turnabout’s fair play, and you’re on the losing side.”

Pigsy clenches his fists. He can feel the desire to get big, to roar, to tear her out of him, rise in his chest. But this can’t be solved with violence, as easy as he wants it to be. Pigsy has never been good at diplomacy.

“What do you want,” he spits out.

She brushes Tang’s hair out of her eyes. They glow in the evening light, bright and malicious.

“I have a few errands, and while this mortal is useful, he is a bit...weak.” She flexes Tang’s fingers experimentally. “You’re quite the muscle. I think you’d be quite useful, hmm?”

Pigsy does know a challenge when he sees one, but this time, he’s backed into a corner, with no way out, so he slumps his shoulders.

“Alright. Just….just don’t hurt him.” It comes out a tired plea. “And stop-don’t ruin him like that.” He gestures to her getup. He’s sure she’s only showing him this to hurt him, because he wants Tang. Not whatever this abomination is. Just practically, it would give her away if she didn’t change back. Though he’s not sure how much of a choice he gets, regardless.

She sighs, but after a moment the pleasant red and gold return, and Tang’s hair is black again.

“Fine. Picky, though,” she places Tang’s hand on his cheek, cupping the side of his face, and Pigsy’s cheeks warm. When he looks up, everything about Tang looks normal, except the blue rims on the glasses. He looks away.

“Tomorrow,” he tells her. “We’ll start tomorrow. And once-once I’m done, you’re out of him, got it?”

He glares, and she smiles, Tang’s mouth curving into something more unhinged. Brown eyes glow light blue.

“It’s a date.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tang doesn’t remember the few days that he disappears. He doesn’t even remember disappearing, to be honest. He just walks to the noodle shop as if nothing is wrong, because to him, nothing is.

He can tell that something off, though. Not wrong, but off, because when he walks the feeling of his feet against the ground is muted. Everything is a little muted, like all of his senses are muffled by something. He shakes his head a few times, to try and break through the fog. It doesn’t work.

He waves at Pigsy when he walks in, and then nearly jumps when he’s grabbed. He tries to open his mouth to say something, but suddenly everything goes cold, and he’s pushed back into his own head. Someone else takes the reins, Something Else moves his lips.

Family emergency, he hears himself say. He sees the reflection of himself in Pigsy’s eyes. His glasses are different. Pigsy notices.

He watches the Something Else make Pigsy very aware that the Something Else exists, and then he is thrown into the passenger’s seat. When MK comes over to ask for a story, Tang is allowed to tell him one. When Mei talks about her next race, Tang can avidly respond.

He keeps trying to explain that something’s wrong, to them, but when he opens his mouth to try and say the words nothing comes out, or the Something Else will say something. A joke, or a fact, or nothing at all, and doesn’t silence sometimes speak the loudest.

It knows too much about him and the longer he knows it’s in his head, the more he can feel it, cool tendrils poking into memories he’d rather have private. It searches, it pries, and it leaves no stone left unturned, leaving Tang feeling vulnerable, invaded.

The day ends. Pigsy asks to walk him home and Tang finds himself agreeing before he can stop himself, before it can. He wonders if it even tried.

They walk, and it’s only a matter of time before Pigsy snaps. Tang is honestly surprised it hasn’t happened sooner, when he’s unceremoniously thrown against the wall. It hurts, but much like his other senses, the pain is muted. He knows Pigsy isn’t using his full strength though. Pigsy can throw people five times his size out the door with ease.

He follows the conversation with bated breath, and then he sees something like recognition flicker in Pigsy’s eyes, and he hears Baigujing, and it says Bajie, and—

Oh.

There’s a knife to his throat.

He sees his reflection in Pigsy’s wide eyes. His hair is white. His eyes are a startling, glowing blue, and he can feel blood welling up where the knife pierces his skin.

Pigsy buckles. Tang watches him leave.

“What do you want?” he asks, to the Something Else.

He gets farther and farther away from control with each step she takes in his skin, every moment he isn’t allowed to speak. He can feel cool shackles on his wrists, thick as steel.

“You like him very much, don’t you?” A voice, chilling and cruel, rings in his ears. Tang doesn’t need her to specify who she’s referencing. They pass by a window, a storefront. She stops, and turns to it, so Tang can see her smile with his mouth in the reflection.

Tang’s blood turns to ice, and he wonders if it’s because she’s the one in his body or if it’s just his fear, in the end. She grins wider, and Tang’s helplessness and terror grow.

“I am going to break him, and you are going to watch.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The next day Pigsy is quiet. He doesn’t say much besides telling MK to take out the orders placed on the counter. His eyes occasionally flick to her, to Tang, to the thing sitting on the counter that looks familiar in looks alone.

Pigsy knows he has to remember. He can’t forget that this isn’t Tang. Even when he sees her sitting on the same barstool with that same smile, when she learns how Tang holds his chopsticks and learns how Tang eats, even when she is already perfecting something that everyone else sees is perfect.

This isn’t Tang. Pigsy can’t forget that.

That night, she gestures for Pigsy to follow her. He does, walking step by step with her, waiting for her to tell him what to do. She takes him toward the marketplace, where Pigsy goes to get his ingredients a few times a month.

“You remember that Spider Queen, don’t you? Quite the adventure we had,” she says, and Pigsy bristles at the implication.

“You weren’t there,” he growls out.

She places a hand on Tang’s chest, expression one of mock offense. “How could I not have been? I mean, you were there with me. Is this not the skin?” she tugs on the fleshy part of Tang’s wrist, hard enough that the skin goes red.

Pigsy says nothing, and shrugs.

“Regardless, the Spider Queen will get in my way if she isn’t handled, so you’ll take care of her. Better to squash a bug before it grows.” She points to the Spider Queen’s stall.

“I don’t kill anymore,” Pigsy grunts.

He hasn’t for years. He took that part of himself and locked it away, made himself small because he wanted people to feel safe around him without being scared of what he could do. He doesn’t kill. He makes people food, he doesn’t harm them more than any other mortal could.

The knife is back out, and Pigsy knows where she’ll imply it going.

“I do,” she purrs. “And you’re mine, so you do too.”

Pigsy clenches his fists, and shifts.

He’d imagined showing Tang his demon form. Imagined preparing for months, carefully explaining. Imagined going someplace remote, someplace theirs, and revealing himself. Imagined scenarios where Tang ran, imagined scenarios where Tang stayed.

He grows tall, and burly, and looming and powerful. He’s about eight feet tall, here, with the muscles to match the height. His rake appears in his hand, prongs sharp. It’s as tall as he is, and the prongs are longer than his forearm. She looks up at him with an impressed expression that looks wrong on Tang’s face, yet makes Pigsy’s cheeks burn anyway.

“Magnificent,” she breathes, and he shivers at the sound.

He holds his rake tight, setting it on his shoulder and glancing over to the stall. He tries to stop his hands from shaking, as she leads him to the entrance.

“Give me a lift, won’t you dear?” she asks and Pigsy grits his teeth.

He lifts Tang up, gentle with his body because even if Tang isn’t the one asking Pigsy will be damned if he hurts him like this, and they descend.

The Spider Queen’s lair is as eerie as he remembers it, though it seems to have been upgraded. There are pods of glowing green liquid everywhere, and a computer as well. He catches what looks like a human bent over it, tapping at keys and sighing to himself.

“Is it done yet? The world needs its Queen to return.” He hears her voice from the right, and shifts a little to hide as she comes in. The man at the computer stiffens, and turns around at perfect attention, bowing.

“U-Unfortunately, such a complex undertaking is going to take more time, my Queen,” the man trembles out.

“What are you waiting for?” Tang’s voice slithers into his ear, and Pigsy fights back the urge to growl, letting out a huff of a breath and narrowing his eyes in annoyance.

“An opening,” he replies.

“This has to be done by New Years! I want to start the Year of the Spider on time,” she growls the last part out.

“Y-Yes, my Queen,” The scientist replies.

She turns away, and that’s when Pigsy jumps down. She just barely dodges his rake and Tang jumps off of his shoulder to settle in the shadows. Fine. Now Pigsy doesn’t have to worry about him getting caught in the crossfire.

The Spider Queen recovers quickly, getting into a battle stance. She gives him a once over, and then smirks.

“So the pig is back to fight, hmm? I would have liked to see you in this form last time,” She purrs out the words, chuckling to herself.

Pigsy charges without response. He swings his rake, she ducks, throwing out a sharp leg. He blocks with his arm and grunts when the blade edge of her leg digs in. He lifts a leg and kicks her, no holds barred where her humanesque body and her spider body meet. A weak point.

She lets out a shout of rage as she’s knocked back. He slices to the right, knocking off her helmet. Long, messy black hair tumbles down in front of her face. She pushes it back, darts forward, throwing out some webs.

He dodges the first few, but one catches him by the foot, trapping him to the floor. He twists and dodges as best he can when he can’t move, but she’s closing in.

He throws out the rake, in a last ditch attempt as she goes in for the killing blow, and catches her neck between two of the prongs, following through with the swing, bringing her crashing down onto her side.

“Fool!” she grits out, twisting her legs to try and stand. “I am the Queen of this world! I will feed you to my subjects, you—”

Pigsy twists the rake in one sharp motion.

Crack.

She goes very silent, and very still. Pigsy breathes, as her body slumps down on itself.

Okay.

Pigsy slowly, carefully, pulls away the rake.

He waits for movement. He finds none.

Okay.

“Do try and make sure she stays dead.”

He jumps at the sound, turning around to see Tang.

Tang is watching. Tang. Tang watched—

Not Tang. He has to remember that.

Her eyes glitter in the low light.

“A broken neck can be fixed. Make sure she can’t come back. Wouldn’t want to have to deal with a vengeful Queen, right?” She gestures to the corpse.

Pigsy grips his rake tightly.

The prongs go through flesh far too easily.

He thinks they’re about done, but then she points to the computer. More specifically, to the man cowering beneath the control panel of the computer.

“No witnesses,” she says. “Get rid of him.”

Pigsy is frozen in his spot.

“Please,” the man begs. “I didn’t want to help, I had no choice! She was going to kill me-I-I’ll destroy everything I did! I’ll delete the code. Everything!”

“You misunderstand.” Tang-she-walks carefully towards the cowering mortal. “We didn’t do this to save the world. We did this to get her out of my way.”

Dawning horror flashes on the man’s face.

Pigsy hesitates. A demon is one thing, this is just a mortal. A human. Pigsy glances at the man, and imagines her pointing him at MK. Or Mei. He couldn’t. He can’t.

“Would you rather I do this?” She pulls out the knife, pointing it at the man. “I know you prefer him in red, though I hear blood is difficult to get off clothes.”

At the thought of Tang, who could be still in there, having to watch himself kill, Pigsy moves.

The man hedges his bets and runs. He ducks under the knife and Pigsy’s outstretched arm, sprints toward the exit, but Pigsy’s arm swings around after him. He can’t take more than a step forward because his foot is still stuck by the webs, but his legs are long and his arms much the same. He reaches over in a panic, and grabs the man by the head, aiming to muffle his shouting, stop him from doing anything while Pigsy tries to negotiate, when—

There’s a sickening crunch, and squelch, and the man goes limp.

Pigsy is very, very aware of the liquid dripping from between the spaces of his fingers. He’s afraid to open his hand.

She claps, then is at his side, cutting him free of the webs.

“Good work.” She pats him on the side.

Pigsy trembles. Slowly, he opens his hand.

All of his body falls but the head. The head.

Pieces drop, clattering or squishing or dripping. Pigsy’s hand is covered in it. Hair clings to his fingers. Skin folds in on itself on the ground, with nothing solid to hold it taut.

Pigsy feels like he’s going to be sick. He didn’t mean….he hasn’t taken this form in years, decades, he isn’t used to the power it holds. He didn’t mean to, he was panicked, he just, he needed the man to stop. That was it, it wasn’t on purpose, he didn’t mean—

“Feels good,” she whispers in his ear, somehow. “Doesn’t it?”

Pigsy stumbles away, trying to shake the pieces, the blood, the person off of his hand. He trips over the Spider Queen’s body and crashes into the computer, destroying it. His knees pull toward his chest as he tries to breathe.

It takes a good minute for him to realize that she’s rubbing a hand up and down his back in a comforting manner. He looks down at her, because even sitting he’s taller, and her smile is—that’s not hers.

“Tang?” his voice is hoarse. His tusks always get in the way of speaking.

Tang smiles. It’s soft, pitying, almost sympathetic.

Pigsy feels himself melt, a little. It’s almost familiar.

“It’s okay,” Tang says, but is it him? Pigsy doesn’t know if he wants it to be. A part of him craves the comfort of something familiar, another doesn’t want Tang to see him at his worst, covered in blood, with a body count.

“That’s enough for tonight,” Tang says, she says, Pigsy can’t tell. His head is already trying to process what he’s done. “Let’s go. C’mon.”

Pigsy lets himself be helped up. He lifts Tang onto his shoulder and climbs out of the cave, shivering when the chilly night air whips past him. He still has a few hours before he has to get up for work. He sets Tang down on the ground, shifts back to his smaller form.

Tang looms over him like this. Pigsy regrets becoming small.

“Shall we?” Tang gestures towards Pigsy’s apartment.

Pigsy nods, and they walk home. Once they arrive, Tang heads to the couch, and Pigsy to the bathroom. He scrubs and scrubs at his hands, until the water stops turning pink and then some. His palms burn, skin scraping against skin, but he can see the pieces that can’t fit in the drain.

He vomits, finally, in the toilet. He coughs, wiping his mouth, and hunches over the sink, glancing at himself in the mirror. Deep breaths. He just needs to remember that this will be over, eventually.

“I’m going to bed,” he calls, as he leaves the bathroom.

His hands are still shaking. His throat burns, and he lets it, maybe as a punishment. He doesn’t know.

“Goodnight!” Comes a voice that sounds too much like the real thing. Pigsy takes in a shuddering breath and vanishes into his bedroom.

He curls underneath the blankets and tries to get the cold feeling to escape his bones. It seems to settle in, regardless.

It takes him a long time to fall asleep.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Whatever Tang had imagined she’d make Pigsy do, it wasn’t this. He watches as they head to the market, and then as Pigsy changes, per her request.

He wonders if Pigsy would have ever shown him this form otherwise. As is, Tang is terrified, but not of Pigsy. He’s worried for Pigsy. Because he knows the power Zhu Bajie can wield. here He knows that she knows, too.

Watching Pigsy fight and kill is as impressive as it is heartbreaking. He can see the shock, the horror, as Pigsy grapples with his actions. Tang can’t fight the revulsion when he sees Pigsy kill the poor bystander but at the same time he can’t hate him for it.

He could never hate Pigsy foremost, but in this instance, he can’t hold this carnage against him. Not when Pigsy curls in on himself, his bigger form trying to be as small as possible. Not when he won’t look at his own blood-stained hands.

He moves to take a step, stumbles as she throws him the controls. The longer he isn’t allowed to do anything, to speak, to move, the harder it is to get used to doing it when he has control. He wonders if he’ll forget how to walk eventually. He wonders if he’ll forget how to breathe.

He tries to comfort. He’s not allowed to tell Pigsy that it’s him, because she won’t let him, but he can comfort, because she needs Pigsy functioning for this to work. Maybe Tang should be offended that she’s using him, but truthfully, he just wants to do something to help Pigsy. He can’t just stand aside to watch. It’s almost worth being used if he’s used to help.

Pigsy looks at him, then. Tang wants to apologize. To beg for Pigsy to stop. He doesn’t know if Pigsy can recognize that it’s him, either. The words don’t make it to his throat and she throws him into the backseat again.

When they get home, Pigsy stays in the bathroom for too long. Tang hears the sound of retching and winces. He wishes he could do something, say something.

As he falls asleep, he still wishes he could apologize. For something. Anything. Everything.

He can’t feel his legs.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The next morning, Pigsy gets up and heads to work. Tang is sitting upright on the couch. Pigsy pointedly doesn’t look at him, quick while making breakfast, eating, and grabbing his chef’s coat before heading to the shop. He typically starts two hours before opening, setting up the dough, stringing out noodles.

He’s slow, today. His hands shake as he tries to work, he’s halfway to where he’s supposed to be when MK comes down, on time for once. He forces himself to speed up because he knows calls will be coming in soon.

He sets the broth to boil, stirring once, glancing down at it to check its progress, and—

It’s red.

It’s red and it’s spilling from his fingers, sticky and thick as it falls into the broth, the stench of it has him trembling violently enough that the spoon slips from his fingers. Pieces of hair and bone bubble up from the bottom, and Pigsy sees an empty eye socket, staring at him in terror, pleading horror, begging for mercy.

He grabs the pot and pours it into the sink, he can’t let anyone see it, can’t let anyone know what he’s done, the stains settling deep into his skin with no way out, no way to make it disappear. A man is dead. A man is dead and Pigsy killed him and it’s everywhere and everyone is going to know and he has to get rid of it.

When he pours it into the drain, there’s not a spot of red in it. He watches his half an hour’s worth of work disappear with an unsteady breath, setting the pot back on the stove and washing his hands. The water boils his fingers.

“Uh...Pigsy?” MK calls.

Pigsy turns and does not look in the direction where he knows Tang will be. He catches MK’s expression, brow is pinched in concern.

“What?” He doesn’t mean to growl the words out as he does.

“Um, why’d you do that? It looked almost ready,” MK points to the now empty pot.

Pigsy hides his shaking hands by clenching them into fists. “Bad batch,” He replies, succinct.

When he glances MK’s way, he imagines how easy it would be for him to repeat last night. Would it sound the same, the skull crunching in his grip quick, or would MK’s Monkey King powers offer enough resistance so that it’d be slow?

Pigsy remembers his old name, his old title, his old desires. He would fight with Sun Wukong and enjoy it. He is powerful, then and now.

He promised himself he wouldn’t be that person again, that he’d be better. But looking back at that journey, is it any wonder that he’s so quickly fallen back into the same bad habits? Zhu Bajie was rude, cruel, a liar.

Why’d Pigsy expect that he could change?

“A shame.”

He nearly jumps, at the sound of her voice, his voice. He glances at the blue rimmed glasses, brown eyes. Warm and cold.

“It looked delicious, at least,” Tang says, head resting on his palm. He smiles, soft.

Pigsy looks away.

He gets back to work.

Some of her jobs are simple. Break something, find an artifact. Pigsy learns not to ask questions, because none of the answers give him much comfort. Occasionally, Pigsy will get his hands messy, stained with the blood of demons. Those nights he barely sleeps, too busy trying to scrape the dried liquid from beneath his fingernails.

He justifies it, even though there is no true justification for the carnage. Thankfully, there haven’t been any more mortal deaths. The demons he fights are bad, he thinks, as he watches them bleed out on the floor. The demons he fights would be going after MK if he didn’t get rid of them first.

MK mentions offhandedly that there haven’t been as many demon fights recently. Pigsy horrifies himself with the sick satisfaction he feels, the pride that swells in his chest.

He’s able to justify his actions, but it doesn’t fix the gaping hole in his chest with every swing of his rake. The worst part, he thinks, is that it’s becoming easier to do. There’s a certain familiar numbness that comes with a higher and higher body count. He went through it thousands of years ago, when he first began fighting, and he goes through it now.

It settles in faster this time. Must be his experience.

He stays in the kitchen more often during the day. Ignores the banter between MK and Mei when they barrel in, only half hears the stories shared. He tries to lose himself in the motions of cooking, something that’s his, safe. He can still do this. So he’s fine.

She’s always there, either at the counter during the day or by his side at night. Pigsy makes a few valiant attempts to text someone, to tell them what’s happening, but she steals his phone and Pigsy isn’t allowed to touch it. She nearly cut off Tang’s finger when he attempted to take it back. He stops trying.

She follows him when he goes out, whether it be to the market or just on walks. No one raises an eyebrow at this—Pigsy has always stuck close to Tang, and vice versa. To the outside world, this is normal. She can tease and cloy and claw her way close to him and it’s just the silly antics everyone else expects. Any reaction Pigsy has is normal too, when he shouts and rages and pushes Tang away, because that’s just how he reacts. He’s loud and he’s mad.

He’s being played and he’s playing right into her clutches, but he doesn’t know what he can do.

Pigsy is so tired. Some days, he manages to convince himself that things will be fine, soon. He has to think it will be. If the demons were stronger than him, he thinks, maybe they’d deserve to live.

If they were stronger than him, maybe he’d get to stop.

Another development, one he can’t wrestle his feelings together on, is how Tang, how she, acts during their expeditions. There are lingering touches across his back, fingers trailing on his neck, a palm cupping his cheek. Sweet smiles thrown his way, gentle words whispered into his ear, arms curling around his form as he’s pressed against Tang’s body.

Every time he freezes, caught between revulsion and want, because he loves. Desperately.

That’s why he’s doing this after all. That’s why he even bothers. Sleepless nights, reopened wounds, returns to bad habits—it’s all for a man Pigsy cares just a little too much for.

She gets bolder with each passing night. Interlaces their fingers when he sets his hand on the counter during the day. Sends him compliments that make him weak in the knees. He knows that it’s not Tang, but sometimes he wonders. Maybe hopes.

Because she’ll smile at him, but it'll be Tang’s smile, soft and almost a smirk but never quite there. He doesn’t know if that means Tang is still in there or if she’s just getting better at pretending to be him.

He doesn’t know which is worse.

It’s a little over a month later, one night after a job that leaves Pigsy’s hands bloody and his eyes weary, that he gives way, collapses in on himself. He grabs Tang’s scarf in shaky hands and trembles, because he’s so tired. He misses his best friend. He misses the person he’d do anything for, the person he’s doing the unspeakable for.

“Please,” he whispers, voice hoarse. “Take me-just-I’m stronger than him-I won’t fight back, you can do all the damage you want just—” he chokes on the words. “Give him back to me. You can have me, just give him back.”

He takes a shuddering breath, blinking away tears. They fall down his face anyway.

“Please.”

He trembles against Tang, something familiar made foreign because she’s stolen it from him, against something as silence fills the space.

Soft hands lift his chin and he hears a chuckle so familiar. He hates that doesn’t know who is laughing.

“Oh, Pigsy,” And it’s her, and it’s Tang, and Pigsy searches for understanding as a thumb brushes away his tears. She, Tang, leans down until their eyes are level.

Pigsy searches for something familiar in them.

His favorite color is the color of Tang’s eyes, brown with a hint of red, soft and warm.

“Why would I need you, when you’re already giving yourself to me?”

And then Tang-she-his lips collide with Pigsy’s and-and-and—

Pigsy’s eyes are wide. This is-he’s wanted this for years, it’s everything, nothing, all at once.

He shouldn’t like this. This isn’t-it isn’t Tang. But Pigsy is pressed against the wall as Tang’s body leans forward, like everything Pigsy has ever wanted, and Pigsy closes his eyes. He closes his eyes and forgets, just for a moment, where he is and what’s happening, decides to be selfish.

When his eyes are closed, he can’t see anything. He can only feel Tang’s hands on the sides of his face, holding him so tenderly, Pigsy’s hands still bunched up in that scarf. He can’t see the glowing blue eyes, or the smirk, he can only feel the smile against his lips.

Tang pulls away first. Pigsy drops his hands and nearly trips over himself, eyes wide open again to blue eyes and a wide smile and a laugh that is cruel and knowing.

“My, my, that sure was something! You really are desperate, aren’t you?” she says.

Pigsy wipes his mouth, trembling. He feels sick, not because he didn’t like it, but because he did. Does.

“You-I—” he tries to explain himself, but she tuts and walks forward with a small smile on her face, patting him on the head like one would a dog.

“It’s alright, I understand. For a mortal, he is attractive.” She fiddles with Tang’s hair.

Pigsy wants to throw up. He wants to scream. He wants to throttle her, but he can’t hurt Tang.

He might have already.

How much does Tang see, does Tang feel? Did he see this, feel this? Did he watch Pigsy use him, like the monster he is, because Pigsy is selfish? The thoughts spiral deeper and deeper into something self destructive and Pigsy bites on his thumb hard enough to make it bleed.

“If it’s any consolation, he loves you too,” she says, and Pigsy freezes. “Do you think he never noticed how your hand would twitch toward his? You’re terribly obvious, but he’s a coward as well.”

Pigsy feels his breathing pick up.

Tang, he, he love-loved? Past tense, did Pigsy ruin it? Did he break something he never even had? Might not ever have, now?

A hand trails across his back and Pigsy shudders.

“No need to worry.” She leans in close, until Pigsy can feel her cool breath against his ear. “If you’re good, I think I can make this happen again.”

And then she walks away, leaving him in the wreckage. Pigsy breathes, clenches and unclenches his fists, fighting back the urge to cry because he doesn’t have the energy for more tears. He moves to leave, when—

“It seems you do have a bit of control left,” he hears, right before she’s out of earshot.

Everything goes cold.

What does that mean? Was the kiss...was that Tang? Or was it-what does that mean?

The more he thinks about it, the more his head goes through loops. Tang is in there. Tang has control-some, a bit, no specifics. Pigsy isn’t a thinker, he doesn’t know how possession works. Maybe-maybe Pigsy isn’t as terrible as he thinks he is. Maybe that means, maybe, it wasn’t all a lie?

His walk home takes ten minutes longer than it should. He keeps bringing up his fingers to his mouth, tracing the spaces where Tang’s lips slotted into, like a perfect puzzle. Every part of him she touched tingles like static, and Pigsy can’t think, can’t find a single thought. If it wasn’t Tang, if it was just her...

He doesn’t know how to cope with the fact that he doesn’t want this. Not like this.

He doesn’t know how to cope with the fact that deep down, he does. Regardless.

What kind of monster does that make him?

Is it worse than the one he already is?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tang is quiet when she kisses Pigsy. He doesn’t feel anything, touch long lost to his senses, floating in empty space. Some days, he doesn’t know where he ends and she begins but he knows that he has no weight to himself, not anymore.

He’s quiet, an ache in his chest growing ever painful as Pigsy gives in, and he wonders if it would have been like this if it were him. Something in the heat of the moment, passionate, real.

He wonders and grieves a life he isn’t having. She uses his mouth and whispers sickly sweet nothings and turns Pigsy around so that Tang isn’t sure that Pigsy knows what’s up and what’s down. She walks away and leaves Pigsy to try and collect himself, and all Tang wants to do is say sorry.

For what, he isn’t sure. This isn’t his doing. But that was him all the same.

Tang bows his head and sniffles. He watches her wipe his eyes.

“It seems you do have a bit of control left,” she says, staring down at the tears in his palm. She flicks the water away. “Get over yourself. If you wanted this, you should have made it happen. You had plenty of time.”

And the worst part, Tang thinks, is that with the years he’s known Pigsy, he knows she’s right.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Pigsy tries to keep some semblance of normalcy after that, though it’s hard. He can feel Tang’s eyes on him, gaze lingering as Pigsy moves, day after day. He tries to keep his cheeks from flushing, tries from reacting at all, when Tang looks his way. He forces himself to remember that the kiss wasn’t right, wasn’t Tang.

But at the same time he can’t forget what he heard. What it could mean. Pigsy has mired himself in despair so deeply that the scrap of hope he feels is enough to keep him teetering on the edge of something dangerous, something selfish.

There’s a change in the air between them, he knows. MK and Mei notice too, as much as he tries to keep this from them, keep them safe. He doesn’t want them trapped, like he is. He couldn’t handle it if they were.

“You guys have been acting weird.” Mei hops up to the counter as she speaks, glancing between Tang and Pigsy with squinted eyes.

“Oh?” Tang asks, leaning his head on his hand.

Not Tang.

“Yeah, you guys have been real clingy,” MK slings an arm around Mei’s shoulders, rubbing his chin with his hand.

Mei brightens.

“You guys have finally gotten together, haven’t you!” She points an accusatory finger at the both of them.

Pigsy freezes. Flushes from his feet all the way up to the tips of his ears, and Tang laughs, a soft, sweet, bell of a laugh.

“Were we that obvious?” Tang chuckles into his sleeve.

Mei bounces in her seat, and MK looks away, a little flustered himself at the idea.

“Uh, totally! We, uh, we both saw this coming. Yeah.” Pigsy would laugh at MK’s poor attempt at a lie if he wasn’t frozen in place, stuck between horror and something else he can’t acknowledge.

Some part of him wants to pretend this is real. Some part of him, growing with every passing second, wants to play along until he forgets it’s a game. Because he’s been fed emptiness and sadness and helplessness and, suddenly, there’s this hope—maybe false, maybe real, dangling in front of him.

There’s something good, and something kind, and something Pigsy needs. Something so cold it becomes warm and Pigsy would like to be warm.

“How’d it happen! I want details!” Mei leans forward, face a few inches away from Tang’s, and Pigsy fights the urge to pull her away from him. He doesn’t know if it’s because he wants to keep her safe or him.

Tang goes into a story, dipping into the tone he would with Monkey King tales, and Pigsy feels the edges of static crawling up his neck, a high pitched tone drowning out the noise of conversation as he tries to make sense of the situation he’s in.

How did he even get to this point? He traces back memory after memory, but nothing makes sense. The pieces don’t fall into place, even as he finds each and every one to try and put it all together. It’s like someone has sanded the edges down, or covered them in ice, so they slip and scrape against each other. Pigsy stands still, and slowly swivels his head to glance at his family, Mei and MK and Tang, all situated at his counter, like they’ve always belonged.

He keeps reminding himself that it isn’t Tang, not really. But is it so terrible to pretend? When he’s already worse than he’s ever been?

“It was really special. Right, Pigsy?” Tang turns to him with an expectant grin, and Pigsy flushes again, a color Tang once told him was a dusty rose.

He doesn’t snap. He bends, because when you bend, the cracks are slow to break. And Pigsy has always taken things slow, hasn’t he?

“Right.” He steps forward, his hand beneath Tang’s chin. Tang has always been the most handsome person Pigsy has ever seen, and how could that change, even with blue rims?

Tang’s lips brush against the side of his face, for the effect of MK and Mei’s groans, and Pigsy smiles.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tang trusts Pigsy with his life

That goes without saying. As he forgets what it feels like to move his fingers, as he forgets what taste is, he knows above all else that he can trust Pigsy with his life.

After all, Pigsy is why he’s alive at all. Anyone else would have buckled under the pressure by now, being the slave of the Baigujing. Anyone else would have made a mistake that would have left Tang a bleeding corpse on the ground.

Pigsy shoulders on, regardless of everything, because he values Tang’s life above all else. Tang knows this. That’s why he trusts Pigsy.

But things are changing, just a little. Pigsy’s desperation for something real, for Tang as he’s meant to be, is dying. Somehow, she’s bewitched the love of his life into something that is becoming unrecognizable. And Tang, though he is losing the memory of touch, of taste, of movement, finds this somehow more terrifying, more horrifying.

To see Pigsy vanish, just as Tang did, with no one making him disappear but himself.

Pigsy leans into her false touches. He melts into the kisses she forces upon him. His resistance falls slow and Tang can do nothing but watch and wonder quietly, as numbness threatens to swallow him whole.

He trusts Pigsy with his life.

But he doesn’t know which life Pigsy is trying to save.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It keeps happening.

At night, when he gets moments of clarity, when he remembers how awful everything is, Tang will be there with honeyed words and precious touches to sweep Pigsy off of his feet and forget. Pigsy will be horrified by the sight of death in one moment and locked in an embrace in the next, kissed with a passion he can’t help but return.

“You’re so strong,” Tang will say, with reverence to his tone. “It’s incredible.”

Not Tang.

Pigsy will fight against the pride that comes from the compliment, then fail every time to stifle it. Because he is strong, incredibly so, and he is powerful, and he can swipe through any demon with ease.

Nevermind the brothers, crying out for each other when he’d separated them, the way one had gone pale and quiet when the other went still, because they were a pair made one. You can’t kill a pair at the same time, unfortunately.

Pigsy knows he should feel guilty, should fight more. Knows that this isn’t right, it isn’t real. It’s so easy to forget, though, so easy to cling to something good when everything else hurts.

It’s so easy to set aside the memories of how wrong it all is. So easy to hide it all away, focus on the elation, the kind smiles, the gentle touches. Tang washes blood off of Pigsy’s hands when they get home—it’s their home, how could he forget—and curls up with Pigsy in the night, holding him close, and Pigsy clings, because he needs this. Needs something that makes him feel like things are okay.

The thoughts reminding him that this isn’t Tang start to slip through Pigsy’s fingers. He finds himself relaxing around the shop, smiling when he sees Tang at his seat, squeezing back when Tang interlocks their fingers.

Why fight it? Sometimes it hurts, and god does it, but there’s something so lovely about it now, everything he ever wanted with a price he’s fine paying.

When you take a pig out of its domestic environment, it easily turns wild. Hair, tusks, a penchant for violence. And Pigsy hasn’t been out of his domestic environment in years, but he’s a pig, in the end, lost in the wilderness of an icy forest and blue eyes.

“Hey, Pigsy?” MK’s voice comes from behind him.

Pigsy turns from his work to see his boy at the counter, wiping it down as he waits for orders to come in.

“What?” He glances between the pot and MK, deciding the pot will be fine for a few seconds.

“Are you doing okay? You, uh, you’ve been kind of quiet,” MK rubs the back of his neck, awkwardly.

Pigsy opens his mouth and closes it. He glances to the empty seat. Tang’s empty seat.

He doesn’t actually know where Tang has gone, but it’s so rare for it to happen. Pigsy tries to remember the last time Tang wasn’t in his spot during the day, but tracing memories that far back is like poking at the wreckage of a shattered pot; you’re bound to draw blood.

The tiny vestiges of resistance crawl from ash and leave burning fingerprints on the forefront of his mind.

Tell him, he hears himself think. Tell him! This is your chance!

But the truth is so, so painful, and Pigsy doesn’t have it in himself to shatter this equilibrium. Isn’t it so much kinder to let it settle beneath the surface, to hide the pain and make it so no one knows at all? He doesn’t want MK to look at him with horror and disgust. He doesn’t want to have to try to fix something that might be broken beyond repair.

This is nice. This is okay. He’s happy like this. Why ruin it?

He reaches over and ruffles MK’s hair. MK playfully smacks his hands away, and Pigsy chuckles.

“It’s my job to worry about you, kid,” he tells him. “I’m fine. Orders will be out in a minute.”

He waves MK off, and goes back to cooking.

Tang appears a minute later, in his seat.

“Hey,” Pigsy hears, and he turns, leaning on the little divider between the kitchen and the dining area.

“Hey, yourself,” he replies, and Tang smiles and kisses him soundly. Pigsy’s brain short circuits.

“What was that for?” He asks, something like incredulous elation in his voice as he laughs.

Tang’s face screams victory. Pigsy wonders what he’s won.

“Oh, I just felt like it.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He supposes he has his answer.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He’s finishing up another job at the end of the month when Tang claps his hands together.

“Well, I think that’s it,” he says and Pigsy freezes, realizing what may come. “I don’t really have any other errands to run, and you’ve done your end of the bargain. I’ll be out by morning.”

No, Tang can’t go, he can’t. If Tang leaves, then what will Pigsy be? He needs this. Tang, Tang’s good for him.

He whirls around, and a hand reaches over to rest on Tang’s shoulder. Tang. Tang is good.

“I-wait-but,” Pigsy finds it so hard to articulate his thoughts nowadays.

He’s always been the muscle, Tang is the smart one. Pigsy is good at doing, not talking. He shouldn’t speak when everything comes out scrambled anyway.

“Use your words, now, dear,” Tang says, and Pigsy melts, like he always does. How can he not, when Tang is looking at him like that? Like Pigsy is his?

“I want to-you can stay-can you? I need you to stay. Please?”

Because Tang makes Pigsy feel whole, makes Pigsy feel loved. He can do whatever Tang wants him to do, whatever Tang needs, Pigsy will make it happen.

Tang’s fingers trail down Pigsy’s face. Pigsy leans into the touch, even though Tang’s fingers are cold. Tang feels cold, but that’s okay. Pigsy doesn’t mind.

“Oh, Pigsy,” and it’s Tang. Pigsy searches for understanding, as a thumb brushes away his fears, soft. Tang leans down until their eyes are level. Pigsy finds familiarity in them, like he’s known them for an eternity.

His favorite color is the color of Tang’s eyes, blue with a hint of white, hard and cold.

“All you had to do is ask,” Tang leans forward, and his lips brush against Pigsy’s, and Pigsy leans in.

It’s everything he’s ever wanted.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When ice touches the ocean, there is no crash. The ocean fights back against the shift in form at first, but eventually is quieted by the power ice wields. The ice smothers, the ice settles on top as a slate, and the sea goes still, everything hidden beneath, never to reach the surface.

Tang watches, from the prison in his mind, and the cuffs on his wrists are so much tighter. He can't feel where the cuffs end and his arms begin. He can’t feel his hands. He can’t feel anything. All he has left is his vision, which is more a cruelty than a blessing.

When ice meets the earth it fills in the crevices left by time and expands, cracking stones apart and leaving it crumbling in its wake.

Tang curls in on himself as she shows him a kiss he never got to give, as Pigsy leans in with no hesitation, lost in something Tang can’t save him from. He curls away from the sight and tries to pretend that things can get better, that they can be saved, but he doesn’t know. Not when it hurts this much. Not when he’s lost this much.

Something like betrayal rests bitterly in his stomach. Pigsy left him. For an imitation, Pigsy left him, and Tang knows there’s more there, knows there has to be, has seen it unravel, but it doesn’t change the fact.

Pigsy made his choice, and Tang is the one suffering the consequences.

Tang crumbles quietly. He doesn’t even know, here, if he has eyes to cry from. It feels like he’s crying.

It feels like he’s screaming. No one hears. Even him.

If the water is still, it does not crash against the earth. There is no tide, and the earth remains unchanging. Except, even without the waves, time erodes it all.

Tang has nothing but himself and time.

#lego monkie kid #monkie kid #monkie kid tang #monkie kid pigsy #freenoodleshipping #dark freenoodleshipping #kitkat1003 #this iis fucked

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mikkomacko · 4 years

Text

Bloodsucker I

She loves him.

Loves the way he laughs with all his chest, even if something isn't that funny. Loves the way his emerald green eyes seem to shine. Loves the way his nose twitches when he speaks. She loves everything about him, and she really can't imagine ever not loving him. Harry's just one of the people that linger, always in your heart or mind no matter what. She's certain he'll be someone that's around for eternity.

Eternity. She sighs softly, stroking her fingers through the tangle of curled baby hairs by his temple, imagining a life with Harry. They've been together for almost a year, their anniversary being tomorrow and while it hasn't been very long, y/n hates the thought of not having another year with him. And another after that, and after that, and after that. Morning after morning of seeing his face squished into the pillow, light snores escaping his parted lips.

She's caught up in dreaming up a life with him, one in which she moves into this big house of his and maybe they adopt a little kitty and Harry writes children's stories inspired by their own babies, a beautiful haze that prevents her from noticing the lack of snores coming out of her boyfriend. It's not until his eyes have fluttered open, brilliant in the morning glow, does she realize he's awake.

"S'early dove." Harry croaks, accent thick and voice scratchy. His hand moves out from under the pillow, digging a knuckle into his eye. "Sleep with me again, got all weekend to ourselves."

A smile stretches her mouth, fingers still carding through his hair and he practically purrs at the feeling as he nuzzles back into the pillow. It's true, Harry insisted they spend the whole weekend at his place, just the two of them loving on each other until their anniversary dinner tomorrow night. She didn't hesitate to agree, happily packing up a few necessities from her apartment to now occupy the side of the bed he always reserves for her.

"M'not tired H." Y/n mumbles back, willing away her droopy eyes. Her body feels tired, limbs warm and heavy under the multiple blankets on the bed, but her heart is wide awake and restless.

Scolding, Harry raises the one eyebrow that's not hidden by the pillow. "Know you're tired. Eyes are puffy and ya've got dark circles." Bones cracking like a glow stick, Harry pushes himself up with a slight wince and urges her onto her back so he can fit his large frame between her thighs. He leans down to press a chaste kiss to her forehead, so light her eyes close allowing him to kiss her eyelids with the touch of a butterfly wing. "Sleepy baby."

"Kissy, baby?"

Harry chuckles, breath fanning across the lower half of her face before he connects their mouths at her request, and his enjoyment. Lips still kissing, hers now parted to give him the opportunity to explore, Harry shuffles further up her body to press the bulge in his underwear against her crotch. The blankets fall down to the crooks of his knees, exposing them to the morning air but neither care as he breaks from her mouth to press kisses across her jawbone, up to her ear.

"S'have a morning shag baby," Harry pleads, as if they don't always have a morning shag, and his teeth teasingly nibble on her ear lobe. A bubbly giggle leaves her mouth, nails scratching at his bare shoulder blades. "What are ya laughing for?? M'serious."

Oh she knows he's serious. She can feel just how serious he is against her thigh. "You just told me to go back to sleep!"

Harry pulls back, lifting himself to his hands and frowning down at her. "Well yeah but I think you'd rest better after I've fucked ya good."

He looks like a petulant child, eyebrows pinched together and lips pursed in a grumpy pout. How he can go from being a 28 year old man to a 4 year old boy is unknown to her but she doesn't care because he's her man to love and her boy to baby when he needs it.

"You want to?"

Scoffing, Harry nods rapidly. "Really really want to." As if proving his point he ruts his hips forward just once, allowing her to feel his eagerness. Y/n seals their lips together again, hooking a leg around his hip and using her foot to push his briefs down.

"Go on then, tire me out H."

That's all he really needs before he's removing her pajama shirt, leaving her naked beneath him. His fingertips leave dots of electricity across her skin, gripping her hip in one hand and her thigh in the other. Their mouths part after a sloppy peck, Harry dragging his lips down the column of her throat and nudging the head of his prick between her folds. Like always, when he sinks all the way between her walls, y/n is mush of dazed moans and clingy hands. Harry's quick with his thrusts, fucking her somewhat sloppily but perfectly, and the haze that settles around them is otherworldly. Y/n thinks Harry must be some other being with the way he's always able to pull her apart without much effort. Little does she know, her thoughts aren't far off because after she's reached her peak, whimpering and clenching around his cock, and Harry's emptied inside her as well, he stays awake until she's fully asleep again, tired enough to not even stir when he sinks two sharp teeth into her jugular.

Harry thinks her blood is otherworldly.

<|>

The mid-day sun filters through the yellow and red leaves, scattering into beams of tinged light on the kitchen floor. A pan of tofu sizzles on the stove, the chicken seasoning on it overpowering the smell of pumpkin guts that had filled his kitchen an hour ago when they had carved the vegetable. Harry's wearing the apron he stole from her apartment a few months ago, a blue and white flannel pattern that makes his eyes appear baby blue as well.

They've always enjoyed cooking together, Harry doing more of the cooking and her more of the tasting because he's got magic senses in the kitchen. Everything he makes is delicious, always impressing her whether it's a brand-new recipe or a repeated favorite dish, and she once again longs for forever with him.

"A lifetime gone by,

more years than men need,

a gift of another was bestowed upon me,

and yet time with you will always be..."

The pause in the air is palpable, y/n waiting eagerly for him to continue while she drains their ramen noodles. When the moments passed and Harry is still hunched over the counter, peering down at his journal in deep thought, she speaks. "Always be what babe?"

The scrunch of his nose tightens, sighing in frustration and dropping his black pen to the counter. "Don't know. S'just too many words I could put there but I don't like the way they sound." Shutting the journal, he shoves it aside on the counter until it's resting next to his laptop and other plot lines. While Harry's written many books under a different name, he's starting his first ever poetry book and it's proven to be even more of a struggle than writing romance or horror novels (they're his two favorite).

Shuffling around the counter top, he moves to stir the tofu around in the pan with a disgruntled frown on his face. Placing the noodles back on the stove, y/n drapes herself against his back, arms wrapping tightly around his waist. "You'll get it H," she promises, "you're amazing with words and you've got such a beautiful mind. Wise beyond your years, you know that?"

She doesn't see his smile nor the nervous bob of his Adams apple. If only she knew just how many years he's had.

<|>

In the back corner of the restaurant, a candle flickering between the two of them, y/n watches with hearts in her eyes as he slices through his steak. Her own plate of pasta and sautéed veggies is half eaten in front of her, but there’s no room for any more food in her belly due to the amount of butterflies swirling in there.

“Was thinking of a new story today.” Harry says after swallowing the bite in his mouth and rinsing it down with a gulp of wine. “‘Nother romance one.”

“You’ve been writing a lot of romance lately,” she comments, “not in a horror mood right now?”

His lips quirk up bashfully, popping a bite of medium rare meat between in his teeth. Chest expanding with a deep inhale, he chews with suspense, fists resting on the dining table with his knife and fork in each palm. He looks handsome, powerful and regal with his hair curling down his shoulders perfectly and his button up shirt being more shirt than buttoned up. She wants to reach over the table and trace her fingers over his soft collarbones but she refrains. For now.

“S’fun to write romance when you’ve got a muse.”

The blood that rises to her cheeks is warm and beautiful, catching Harry's eye immediately. He hadn't intended to fluster her with the comment, but now that he's done it he can't help but drool. Which is why they spend the rest of dinner praising each other, Harry's mouth filling with venom every time he hears or smells her blood warm under his words.

And he enjoys her soft spoken words too. It's been a while since he's felt like more than just a monster, and hearing his girl tell him how much she loves and adores him, how she'll never get enough of him, is almost heartwarming.

He's starry eyed when they leave the restaurant, barely catching the keys that the valet hands him followed by the words "get home safe."

Gets home safe. It's ironic Harry thinks right now, with his hand stretched over the center console to hold hers. She looks exhausted, head slumped against the window but watching him with a fond smile. He can feel the thumping of her heart, the pure adoration radiating off of her being. It's the exact way he feels about her. It's the exact reason their blood runs through each other. It's the exact reason why he wants her with him forever. And, unfortunately, it's the exact reason her choice of life is taken from her.

"If you could, would you be mine forever?" He asks, stomach twisting nervously. She doesn't know the extent of the question but he still would like to know. His words cause her to perk up, eyes widening in happiness and a smile pulling at her lips.

Too caught up in her bright eyes, Harry fails to notice the deer crossing the street directly in front of them. Even with his heightened senses, she takes up all of him. It's at the last moment that he catches it out of the corner of his eye, slamming on the brakes and jerking out of the path of the animal. The tires skid and Harry loses all control of the car as it runs off the side of the road. Instinctively, his hands leave the wheel, one coming up to shield his face while the other reaches over for y/n. He's going to grab her, has to grab her. He has to keep her safe. Unfortunately he's not fast enough before the car slams into the tree, glass shattering around them. But over the sound of it all, Harry can only hear her heart take it's last beat.

<|>

Y/n is convinced that she's just waking up. Her day with Harry, their anniversary dinner, the car ride home, the deer....it was all a dream. She'd been up earlier than usual, maybe she fell into such a deep sleep it seemed real.

She's back at Harry's, that she's certain of because it's practically her room as well. The smell of him is stronger, stinging her nostrils and the back of her throat. This does nothing but make the pounding in her skull even worse, eyes squeezing shut to block out the dim room. The action is futile however, because nothing could possibly block out the pain in her body. Her insides feel cold and heavy, weighing down on her muscles and bones. It's then that she realizes the hollowness of her chest.

Her heart's not beating.

The organ that gave her life, fueled her body has gone still, turned to stone in her chest. She's dead. She's died and the afterlife has brought her to Harry's house, to her home.

She doesn't remember what happened, not really. Their anniversary dinner stands out in the fog of her memory, Harry sat under the warm lights in his baby blue button up and suit jacket, the swallows on his chest joining them for dinner. Holding his hand in the car, admiring the way their matching rings look when they're side-by-side. The last thing she can pick out of the night is Harry looking over at her, stoplight gleaming in his eyes as he softly and longingly whispered "if you could, would you be mine forever?"

If he'd been with her in the last place she remembers, perhaps he's here with her too. Pushing herself up from his bed and onto her elbows causes a sharp sting on the bend of her elbow, and when she opens her eyes to investigate, the sight makes her dizzy.

A tube has been stuck into her veins, thick red blood turning the plastic a deep maroon color. It's as if she's simply giving blood if it weren't for the fact that the blood bag attached to the tube is emptying, not filling. And resting on the floor next to the draining one is another empty bag. Her mind swirls with confusion and panic, wondering why she'd need blood in the afterlife and why so much of it. Dead people don't need blood.

"Y/n?"

His voice catches her off guard, snapping her attention away from the blood and turning it towards the doorway of his bedroom. Harry stands in the shadows, face dark with the hallway light illuminating his silhouette.

"Harry?" She whimpers, tears welling in her eyes in relief. He's here which means she'll be ok. He'll take care of her. He inches forward at the sound of her trembling voice but doesn't approach the bed much to her disliking. "Harry please-"

"Are you in pain?" He cuts her off, voice void of any of the usual warmth he carries when speaking to her. His gruffness makes her pause, tears stilling in her eyes. That's not her Harry, she's not safe with whoever is standing in the doorway right now. Cautious, she stays silent. "Does anything hurt y/n? You have to tell me if it does."

As if triggered by his words, a sharp pains seizes in her chest and she's unable to stop the wince that curls her shoulders forward. Harry moves at that, now perching himself on the end of the bed next to her. Before she can make any move away from him, he reaches out, pressing his palm over the throbbing area of her chest and urging her back into the pillows. His touch dulls the pain, leaving her pliant and teary as she watches his shadow.

"S'your organs hardening," Harry says solemnly, not offering another explanation. Y/n thinks she could throw up, her stomach churning and bubbling uncomfortably. Hardening?

"My heart's not beating."

Harry nods, just once. The band that's on her chest moves up to cup her cheek, thumb swiping over her cheek to remove the tear that had fallen. "I know dove, and s'all my fault." His voice cracks, a sniffle breaking through the dark and she wants to sit up and hug him, feel his comfortable arms around her. She refrains, not wanting that sharp pain to spread throughout her body again.

"What's your fault Harry? What's going on?"

Finally, he reaches over and flicks on the lamp on the bedside table. The bulb bathes the room in a soft light, illuminating Harry's sullen face. For the first time since she's met him, his eyes are red rimmed and glazed with tears of anguish. Inhaling shakily, Harry threads his fingers through her hair.

"It's my fault s'not beating darling. I'm your Maker."

"Maker?" She asks, confused.

"You're a vampire now y/n. I turned you."

#Bloodsucker #vampire!Harry #harry styles #fanfic #fanfiction #Harryween #Halloween special #spooky #harry styles au #Harry x reader

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ktheist · 4 years

Text

[whenever you’re ready | 10:34PM]

they say the first time you lay eyes on your soulmate, your heart would stop for the briefest moment, eyes dilating, chills zapping through your entire body - as should theirs, a biological response to hold. to touch.

but jeon jungkook’s first words to you are what made you not want to devote the rest of your life to him.

“do you know who i am?” it doesn’t come from a place of malice - you know it doesn’t - because how else the prettiest deep brown eyes and pinkest lips with bunny teeth peeking underneath his half-agape, shock-ridden mouth, could be anything but the definition of hopeless romantic, old sap, soul searcher.

you happen to walk past him - a complete stranger - with a skip in your step as you wave at your friends. the spark was fleeting but it’d struck you right in your heart and settle like fine dust all over the surface of your existence -

and that’s just the thing, he barely even knows you besides what he sees and he’s willing to wait for you as you chatted away with your old time friends. until the cafe almost closes. and until you’ve hugged nayeon and dahyun goodbye with promises to keep in touch and “invite me to your wedding!”

“i do,” is all you offer and it’s all that it takes for this attractive stranger’s eyebrows to rise higher than the clouds - as though physically anticipating something.

with a shrug, you figure you should offer him more than a two-worded answer, “i just don’t care.”

“e-excuse me?” and that’s when that sparkle of hope in his eyes dwindles into confusion and then half-hearted anger - he looks the kind that couldn’t really be mad at his significant other.

“you are,” with that, you walk past him for the second time of the night - only to have nimble fingers wrap around your wrist. perhaps in an attempt to stop you. perhaps because it was the fear of waking up for the rest of his life surrounded by petals instead of the flower of his heart - that induced him to momentarily abandon his reservations.

the current flows through your streams like a thousand prickles of needles that don’t quite break through your skin -

jungkook withdraws his hand as though the touch burned him, “i- uh - sorry.”

he drops his head with a scuff of his foot against the ground and the same hand that wrapped around your wrist a second ago, ruffling his tresses - in the dark, it looked black but you soon learn it’s a darker shade of brown than his eyes.

“look,” you finally say, a sigh leaving your lips from the forthcoming switches in your life at what you’re about to say and do, “it’s not like i don’t feel what you’re feeling - i do and maybe that’s why you’re looking exceptionally attractive right now but that’s also why i can’t do this.”

perhaps it’s the flash of hurt in those eyes that dims even the anger in them. perhaps it’s the way he looks like a kicked puppy - but you still pull out your phone, unlock it and opened the keypads.

“i have to catch the last train but i’ll call you tomorrow,” he stares at the screen for the longest moment, as though seeing his future flash in front of his eyes when and if he lets you walk away after he punches his number into your phone. after what you just told him - well, he’s going to have to take your words for it, “i promise.”

they say you should take three days (four days would make them lose interest. two days would be too soon) to text a potential love interest that you’ve met and hit it off for whatever reason, be it because you found out you like the same book, or you frequent the same cafe because of it’s the only one that has almond milk or you both share a similar line of work - but never because you found your soulmate and chose to get home before your bedtime.

but just like how the generic standard of texting someone does not apply to soulmates - jeon jungkook texts you back within less than a minute.

you apologize for the belated text

you: hey

you: this is ___

you: sorry i forgot to text the day after we met

you: my supervisor was breathing down my neck

you: because one of our team members screwed up her part

you: i just came back from the wrap up dinner with everyone

you: 😣

the emoji was every bit awkward and misplaced - on your part, at least. because the moment you renounce your livelihood with your soulmate, you at least have a sense of self-awareness that you don’t deserve to act familiar.

jeon jungkook: hey!

jeon jungkook: congrats on finishing the project 🤩🤗

jeon jungkook: if i was close by i’d buy u a meal as celebration but i don’t even know where u live

jeon jungkook: not tht ur obligated to tell me!!!

jeon jungkook: please don’t think i’m pushing you that wasn’t my intention

it’s the full sentence in his last text that sounds every bit like the man who waited for you to say goodbye to your friends and hesitantly approach you with an awkward smile and a more awkward wave of hand ‘hey’ before you acted like you didn’t know him and walked straight past him as if he was air.

it’s on the second week that you make arrangements to meet up at the cafe. because after two straight weeks of asking the other how their day went to complaining about the up tight kim naeun who keeps piling work on your desk before you even get at least two done - your conscience does not allow you to prolong the misery of a completely wonderful human being.

“i owe you an explanation.” wafts of smoke dances over the white bear on the surface of your latte as you shove both your hands into the pockets of your jacket, back leaned against the chair - perhaps it has something to do with jungkook’s arms that stretches over half of the table as he props his elbows somewhere just inches from its edge.

every time you get close to him, you feel the familiar burst of electricity course through your veins and it terrifies you how easily your foot takes a step forward and your hands shifting as though to hug him in greeting - before you root yourself in your spot, only allowing for a wave and a ‘hey.’

“before you say anything that will give me so much as a smidgen of hope-” jungkook holds a hand up, eyes of concrete resolution piercing through your own, “-i want you to know that it’s okay. it’s okay you have a boyfriend, girlfriend - someone you’re committed to because that could be a plausible reason, right?”

despite the steely fortress, you still manage to catch the faintest crack of desperation - as though that was a better reason than having been rejected by you because jungkook was, well - jungkook.

and that was far from the case. you want to tell him. want to reach out and hold his hands. want to clear that misunderstanding because within the limited time span you’ve known him, you know anyone that gets to be loved by him - but he’s wasted on you.

you don’t, do anything that is. or tell him anything.

“i’m not puking up petals,” he continues, shadows of creases beginning to form on his forehead, “and that means you don’t entirely dislike me - i hope.”

“i don’t.” this one, you have to say.

and just like that - even though he looked like he had plenty to say - he drops his gaze, rendering you unable to interpret what he’s thinking because the moment you met jeon jungkook, you know he’s a book with bled words and a walking story you’ll need a whole lifetime to finish. perhaps even write the ending of.

when he doesn’t seem like he plans to continue, you trace the handle of the cup- as though expecting it to wrap around your index finger in a mini hug. and so you tell him why.

you’re at a point in life where you think you can get higher than this - perhaps even become a manager in a few years. maybe buy a place on the better side of the city. but you’ll never get a car because you’re terrified of being behind the wheels. you’ve also hit that age where you prefer the solitude of eating instant noodles behind the windows inside the convenience store when you don’t feel like cooking.

as for kids - you have a brother and his wife is pregnant with their first child. you’ll be that aunt that gives your nieces or nephews whatever their parents wouldn’t give them just because you’ll have too much money and too little cause to spend it on.

“you would think someone who doubts the workings of fate would have a much more profound story to tell - but no, i don’t.” by the end of it, you’re the one avoiding jungkook’s eyes, gaze thrown to the moving world outside of the window, “i’m just content.”

“that’s completely valid.” jungkook’s voice brings you back to those doe eyes, a bashful curl on his lips, “makes me feel stupid for thinking you must’ve had someone special to be content.”

“it’s not stupid,” you counter, a smile of your own tugging on the corners of your lips, “just different.”

jungkook is ready to leave your life for good - or perhaps keep himself out of it because you made it clear that you don’t need a soulmate.

it’s you who offer to show him the best barbecue place in town - the same one you went to in celebration of a job well done. it turns out jeon jungkook loves lamb skewers and he loves the one made by the old owner you call auntie kim.

in the next several weeks, you end up meeting every friday night - just because you enjoy jungkook’s company and on jungkook’s part, there’s still a trace of hope, a gleam of biological affection that comes from the cursive in on the inside of his wrist you don’t know how long he’s dreamed of finding the owner of. only for you to be everything he wasn’t expecting you to be.

but you are not entirely immune to his bunny smile and eyes that shrink into crescent moons and the endless collection of jackets he seem to own, each one differing with every meeting from the last.

on one of your countless meetings, jungkook slips a black leader jacket onto your shoulders because, “oh you know, i needed somewhere to hang my jacket on - it’s getting hot in here.”

you’re in the movies and the aircond is blasting at a minus degrees and he may or may have not noticed your hands clasped in between your legs.

and that’s when you know - you want jeon jungkook to meet your favorite people in life.

one way or another, you’re bound to each other but how you choose to treasure the other is completely up to you.

“you’re wasted on my daughter, boy.” your father narrows his eyes, as though if he squints hard enough, he’ll be able to see the strings of mistake made by fates just to confirm his claim, “you’re soulmates but you’re not even together - does that sound normal to you? i’ve never seen something like this happen before - never in my goddamn years of living!”

“maybe it’s time to put your other foot into the grave then, old man.” you can’t just sit idly as your own flesh and blood insult you - though it has more to do with getting a rise out of him than actually being offended by the truth.

and everyone at the table knows it.

your father points his chopsticks at you, “yah, you ungrateful child.” he shakes his head but doesn’t say more - or rather, couldn’t.

“honey, don’t talk with your mouth full,” your mother, always the calm and collected one, doesn’t even bat an eye at her husband as she places a strip of meat in jungkook’s bowl, a hauntingly friendly smile on her lips, “eat up, son. you’re gonna need all the energy you can get to face the mule.”

“ah, thank you, ma’am.” jungkook lowers his head, smiling shyly at the welcoming gesture.

“oh my,” your mother coos, a hand covering her too-happy smile as she waves off the formality, “just call me mom - it’s like a blessing, my true second child has finally found his way home. it should have been you, jungkook-ah!”

“wait,” you shoot an accusatory look at your mother, “i’m not a mule - i’m an angel. you and dad called me that when i was a kid.

“yeah, that was before you grew up,” your father points out as if it’s the most obvious thing ever.

but then, if there’s ever anything you parents would agree on in a heartbeat - it seems, it’s the fact that they favor jungkook, their daughter’s soulmate, than said daughter.

it takes years for you to get promoted. now you have a bigger office than that miniature cubicle that was half the size of the cubicles in the toilet. your team still call you by your name. it’s like nothing has changed.

you’ve used up enough to buy an apartment - something bigger than the one you were renting off with more space and an extra room you’re planning to turn into a study.

“for what? so you can grill yourself to the bones on your off days?” jungkook’s laughter echoes off the walls the way it would with empty rooms.

he’s switched out his jackets with turtlenecks. if anything, it only serves to accentuate his sturdy looking chest and telltale abdominal muscles.

“i know my mom’s been getting more updates about me through you than through me,” you twirl on your heels, hands shoved into the pockets of your mustard loose pants, eyes narrowed at the brown haired man but the smile on your lips tells him you don’t mind, “but you gotta give me a head start here and let me buy the desk and shelves first so i’ll get to say i have no choice but to proceed with the study plan.”

jungkook hums, his own lips curling into a smile, “i don’t know - i’m gonna need a little... motivation to keep my mouth shut.”

he probably means a free lunch or a bag of chips or that new ps5 he’s been eyeing. but nothing could have prepared him for the blue cobalt box that you pull out from your pocket.

it takes a heartbeat for him to stare at the item in your hands as though he’s waiting for it to disappear so he can shake his head and call himself crazy and get it over with. but it’s still there as you twirl it in his face as thought it’s his favorite chocolate you have lying around in your pocket.

“what?” jungkook breathes out a laugh - it’s more disbelieve than humor.

“what.” he repeats the same word after he wedges it open and see the glimmer caught in the band.

his eyes follow your every movement as you pull out the silver band from the box, grip it in one hand as you get onto one knee, not quite caring about the dust that blankets the entire floor and countertops.

he doesn’t know it - but when he gets excited, he’d grit his teeth together while he smiles. and he would throw his hands up before keeping them in a tight grip over his head.

he’s doing that now too.

“i know this is all so backwards and we should at least date first but we’ve been to too many already - we just call them hang outs,” you clear your throat, ��but jeon jungkook-”

“yes.” he speaks over you almost instantly - almost as though he only waited to see if you’re not about to pull a ‘that’s a friendship ring’ on him.

“i didn’t even finish!” your shoulder line jolts as you laugh, head thrown back at the comical but endearing sight in front of you.

still, you rise from your kneeling position when jungkook holds out his hand, muttering, “yes, yes, yes, yes,” your own squeals mixing together with his laugh when he picks you up and twirls you around the empty space. it is within a lapse of second, as he stares into your eyes through those crescent ones, dotted with the brilliance of a thousand clusters of stars, does he finally say, “i’ll marry you, goddamn it.”

#bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #bts fic #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts imagines #jungkook imagines #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #excerpt from a fic i'll never write

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i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend · 3 years

Text

The Art of Love (Part 7) ~ Steve Rogers x Reader College!AU

A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day Weekend my loves! I’m finally getting back into this story. Hopefully I’ll be able to finish it up soon, but no promises. lol but I hope you enjoy. I wanted to get this out because this year the dates actually line up lol so here we are.

Summary: You and Steve host his mom and Bucky for dinner.

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader (Eventual), Bucky Barnes, Sarah Rogers

Rating: K+

Warnings: None. Fluff . Idiots

Word Count: 1968

Divider by: @whimsicalrogers

Main Masterlist | The Art of Love Masterlist | Broken Hearts and Robot Parts Masterlist (Companion Fic)

You were unable to tear your eyes away from Steve as he tugged his shirt off and tossed it in the hamper, though you rolled your eyes when he laughed at you. It wasn’t until you heard him singing Sexyback that you huffed and turned back to the dresses.

You stared at your remaining options. You couldn’t help but smile when you came to a decision. If you were right, you knew exactly why it was his favorite. After you packed away the rest of the dresses you flopped down on the bed scrolling through your notifications.

“Did you make a decision?” Steve asked as he exited the bathroom, dressed in his jeans and white tank top but barefoot.

You gestured to the closet where the blue wrap dress hung next to his shirt.

Steve looked at it and grinned.

“My favorite.” Steve laid on his side next to you, propping his head in his hand. “We really should go back to California soon.”

You rolled on your side to mimic his position.

“I’d love that. Ooh maybe in the winter though because it’ll be nice and warm,” you giggled.

“That’s a great idea.”

You dropped your gaze from his and started tracing the pattern of his bedspread.

“What’s going through your head, sweetheart?” Steve asked as he covered your hand with his own.

“Just going over what’s left to do for tonight.”

“Everything is all set. There’s nothing left for you to do except to get ready.”

“How long do I have?”

Steve glanced at his phone.

“About an hour.”

“Okay, that’s probably enough time to make myself presentable,” you fretted.

He cupped your cheek, focusing your attention on him.

“Sweetheart, please stop worrying. You are always beautiful.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“Nope. It’s my professional opinion. Are you doubting someone who almost has a bachelor’s in fine arts?” he demanded haughtily.

You giggled and rolled your eyes, shoving at his chest.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love me for it,” he beamed.

“That I do.”

“Why don’t you go take a shower. Take your time and relax. I even bought the candle you like.”

“Summer storm?”

“Yup.”

“You’re the best.”

You kissed him on the cheek as you climbed over him to go shower.

The shower helped calm your nerves and when the water ran cold you wrapped yourself in the fluffy towel Steve had bought just for you and padded back into the bedroom.

You kept the music on low as you got ready, fixing your hair and doing some light make up. When you were satisfied with your appearance you tugged on the dress and slid your feet into the low heels. The final touch was the silver necklace of a dancer that Steve had bought you for your first showcase.

“So how do I look?” you asked as you stood beside the TV.

“Beautiful.”

He patted the spot beside him on the couch and you happily joined him. He immediately twined his fingers through yours.

“I’m really glad that you’re here with me tonight. I love you, y/n.”

“I love you too, Steve.”

He brought your hands up so he could kiss your knuckles you couldn’t help the fond smile that tugged at your lips. Your shower and primping had taken less time than you expected so you and Steve passed the time watching the Good Place.

You were tucked neatly into Steve’s side as you waited for his mom and Bucky to arrive. As his nerves mounted yours seemed to recede and you rubbed soothing circles over his knuckles.

“Relax, Steve. It’s your mom and Bucky. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“There’s a lot to worry about. The three people I love the most are all going to be in the same place.”

“I thought you weren’t worried about me meeting your mom.”

“I’m not worried about you. I’m worried about me. The three people who have the most dirt on me in the same room. Yikes.”

You rolled your eyes.

“You know I live to lift you up. But I hope she brought baby pictures.”

“You’re awful.”

“You love me.”

“You sure about that?”

“Not a doubt in my mind.”

He pulled you closer and kissed the crown of your head.

“Good because I do. Mmm. You smell good.”

“I smell like you.” you giggled. “I forgot my shower gel.”

“Yeah but it’s your shampoo. It’s the perfect combination.”

You were interrupted by keys jangling and the door swinging open.

“Honey, I’m home.”

“Hey, Buck.”

“Hey, Smudge. Hey, Stevie.”

Neither of you moved from the couch as he hung his jacket up and walked into the kitchen.

“God it smells great in here.”

“Bucky Barnes, don’t you dare eat anything to spoil your appetite.”

“But I’m starving,” he whined.

“We’re having appetizers as soon as Steve’s mom gets here. Just wait.”

Bucky pouted into his beer as he sank into the opposite end of the couch.

“I promise it’s worth it.”

“I’m sure it is, doll”

“You’re too sweet, Buck. What did you do today?”

“I spent most of it at the hospital. A spot on their Saturday shift opened up so I took it.”

“Aw that’s great. You didn’t think you’d be able to this semester.”

“I know. I’m really glad. There’s this really sweet girl who just is amazing.”

You and Steve shared a smile at the excitement and fondness in his voice.

The three of you chatted, until your nerves got the best of you and you moved into the kitchen to triple check everything for dinner. The boys trailed behind you, but stayed out of your way.

Your eyes snapped to the door when it buzzed and you tracked Steve as he went to greet his mom. Bucky used your distraction to swipe a grape earning him a rap on the knuckles with a cheese knife.

“Hands off, Buck.”

“Aw come on, doll.”

“No more.”

Bucky pouted but kept his hands to himself as you retrieved the glasses from the cabinet.

Steve was laughing when he opened the door with the one and only Sarah Rogers trailing behind him. She smiled brightly when she spotted you and Bucky. You quickly wiped your hands on the dish towel and hurried to greet her.

“Hi, Mrs. Rogers, it’s nice to see you again.”

“It’s lovely to see you, darling. Please call me, Sarah.”

Once Steve took her coat she leaned forward to kiss you on each cheek.

“Hello, James.”

“Hey, Aunt Sarah,” he grinned around a mouthful of cheese.

“Buck!”

“Sorry, Smudge!”

Rolling your eyes you headed back into the kitchen.

“Can I get you something to drink, Ma?”

“I’ll just have some water.”

“Regular water or seltzer water.”

“Regular please, dear.”

“Sweetheart do you want anything.”

“Water please.”

You retrieved the charcuterie board fiddling slightly trying to disguise the gap Bucky’s munchies had left. He had the good grace to look apologetic when you glared in his direction.

Sarah had made herself comfortable in the arm chair and Bucky took the chair and a half across from her leaving you to sit beside Steve on the couch. He patted your knee before taking your hand as he had earlier.

“How was your Saturday? Did you work today?” Steve asked.

“No, I’m off this weekend. I went grocery shopping. Needed to stock up on a few items. It was a mad house though.”

“Really? It was quiet when we were there,” Steve hummed.

“We were there at like 6:30,” you pointed out.

“True. And it was getting crowded when we were finishing up.”

“I wonder why.”

Bucky and Sarah gaped at the two of you.

“You two really do live under a rock in that arts building don’t you?”

Sarah laughed at Bucky’s observation.

“Why? What are we missing?”

“There’s a blizzard coming tomorrow. Everyone was stocking up before the storm.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Uh huh. It’s been on every news station for a week. What have you been doing?”

“Avoiding my phone at all costs,” you admitted.

Steve shrugged his agreement. “I’ve been distracted.”

“Well, I hope you got more than just food for tonight.”

“Yeah, we’re all set,” Steve assured his mom. “We’ll just hunker down here for the next few days.”

“Absolutely. It’s not like we were planning to leave for the next couple of days anyways,” you agreed.

“Oh did you two have plans for the holiday?”

You squirmed under Sarah’s amused but expectant gaze, not wanting to give her the wrong impression.

“Tomorrow is our annual Lord of the Rings Marathon. We do it every year,” Steve explained with a grin.

“How did that come about?”

“During Freshman year, I got really sick right around Valentine’s Day. And my roommate, and pretty much everyone else I knew had gone on this ski trip that whole week. Steve was worried about me so he brought me pancakes from the dining hall and chicken noodle soup and stayed with me the whole weekend. We watched a ton of movies, but somehow Lord of the Rings became a tradition.”

“That’s so sweet.”

“Yeah it is.”

You squeezed as his hand as he looked over at you with that soft smile you loved so much.

Steve patted his stomach and hummed as he sat back in his chair, nudging your knee with his. Bucky was wiping his bowl with the last of the rolls, and Sarah demurely wiped at her mouth.

“Dinner was absolutely delicious. I’ve got to say, Y/n, I’m impressed you’ve taught my son to cook.”

“I wouldn’t say I taught him. We more figured it out together. Poor Bucky had to taste test a lot of nearly inedible things.”

“Except her baking. That’s always been amazing,” Bucky piped up as he shoved the last roll into his mouth.

“Speaking of, I should get the pie in the oven to warm up or we won’t have dessert until midnight,” you fretted.

“I’ve got it, sweetheart. Just relax.”

“I’m sure the boys won’t mind cleaning up.”

You glance at Steve who nods encouragingly before hopping to his feet, squeezing your shoulders as he kissed the top of your head as he passed by. Bucky finished chewing and began to clear the dishes.

“Why don’t we move over to the couch?” she suggested.

You nodded and grabbed your glass and followed her, sitting next to the older woman.

“I’m so glad that we’re finally getting to spend some time together. Steve never stops talking about you. You’re clearly very special to him.”

You couldn’t help but look over at him, smiling as he elbowed Bucky out of the way at the sink.

“He’s very special to me too.”

“Thank you for taking care of him. I know he can get lost in his work.”

“He does the same for me.”

“I also have to say, you’re a beautiful dancer. I’m looking forward to your performance at the Showcase. It’s always been a highlight in the past.”

“Oh, thank you. I’m flattered.”

“I also saw that you and Steve were celebrating a new job last night?”

“Yes, I just joined the Howling Commando Stage Troupe as a dancer and assistant choreographer.”

“Oh that’s so exciting. Congratulations. Are you looking forward to it?”

“Yes, absolutely. They’ll send me the info for the summer series in a few weeks.”

“And how does one manage being a dancer and a choreographer at the same time.”

“The Howlies always mount two shows simultaneously, so I’ll be dancing in one show while I help choreograph the other.”

“Ah, I see. Well that is quite the undertaking, but I’m sure it will all be beautiful. You’ll have to let me know when opening night is. I would love to come and see you.”

Her earnest support caught you off guard.

“Of course,” you finally managed. “Thank you.”

A/N: Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed !

Tag Lists (If your tag doesn’t work twice I’m removing it)

Update 3/15/2021: Hello, Lovelies. As some of you may have seen on the blog I have decided to suspend tag lists. If you would like to receive updates about new content please follow @naynay-writes and turn on notifications. Thank you! Xoxo, Naynay

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#Steve Rogers x Reader #Steve Rogers x Y/n #Steve Rogers x You #college!steve rogers #College!Steve rogers x reader #college!AU

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 3 years

Text

Her Family

Azula Week Day 7: Family

Summary: Haru introduces Azula to his family.

Idk I’ve never worked with this pair before so I figured that I’d give it a go.

Azula wishes that she could fear something else, something like the dark or insects or tight spaces. She could live with those fears. She could handle them better. She doesn’t crave them, not like she craves love and family. She craves love and family and fears it all the same.

She can lose love so easily and in so many ways and family has never been kind to her. She can’t imagine that Haru’s family will accept her into theirs when her own couldn’t even do it, especially since his family has personal history with the Fire Nation. With everything she is.

“They’ll love you.” Haru insists. But she has her doubts, she is everything that they hate. Everything and then some.

“What if they don’t?”

“Then we’ll take a chance with your family.”

Azula shakes her head. She would rather be fully alone with him than speak with any of them. Zuko, Iroh, and mother who have nothing but resentment for her and Ozai who would scoff at her...would be disgusted with her for soiling the bloodline with Earth Kingdom dirt.

“I’d rather fight your family.” She mumbles.

“Azula…”

She shakes her head, the fear and anxiousness only intensifying with each passing moment. And this fear and anxiousness has layers. The third layer makes a reminder of itself with a good kick to her ribs.

Azula holds her hand against her belly. If she can’t manage to make a good impression then the roots of her family tree will shrivel before they can grow into anything at all. Even still, she is terrified of what will happen if she does make a good impression, if Haru’s family decides that they do like her enough to help she and their son with a baby.

She is no mother, she hadn’t even meant for this to happen. Not yet, not so soon. She isn’t ready to be a mother and she doesn’t think that Haru is prepared for fatherhood. “How can I raise a family if mine was so broken?”

“Because you’re a smart and resilient person.” Haru quirks a brow.

“That doesn’t make me a loving or nurturing person…”

Haru cups her cheek, “I can assure you that you’re a loving person.” His lips brush upon hers and his hand cup over her own. “Just take everything that you’re parents did to you and do the opposite.” He suggests.

It is a good idea in theory…

“We’ll have plenty of time to figure that out…”

She isn’t sure that she would call three months plenty of time.

“For now, let’s just focus on introducing you to my family.”

Reluctantly Azula nods. What other choice does she have? They are already standing at Haru’s family’s doorstep.

Tyro answers the door, his brows furrow. “Tell me that this isn’t the woman you’re introducing us to, Haru.”

Her stomach sinks, she hasn’t even spoken yet and things are already going poorly. Though she supposes that she has a rather loud reputation. She finds that she has nothing at all to say now.

“This is her, dad.”

“She’s a Fire National.” He looks her up and down. “A royal. Haru, what were you thinking?”

.oOo.

He had been thinking a lot of things. That she has a lovely face and a quick mind. That she is a bizarre woman, bold and with strange mannerisms. But before that he had been thinking of making her pay for what her family and people have done to his.

Before that he was going to take advantage of her weakness, of her broken mind. He was going to face her and end her, do the universe a favor in taking her out of it. He is glad that he had let her speak. Glad that her bravado shattered. Glad that she had cried.

He isn’t a killer. He isn’t so full of hate.

He had let her cry to him about her punishment--her banishment. Let her cry about her loneliness, failures, an flaws. Let her cry until she asked him to follow through with what he was about to do.

He is glad that he didn’t oblige. Glad that he got to know and understand her…

He takes her hand and gives it a squeeze. “She’s a lot different than you’d expect. She’s actually a pretty quiet person. I think that mom would like her.” He thinks of the last girls he’d brought home. Most of them were routy and wild with a knack for destruction and accidentally knocking over furniture--vases in particular.

Tyro wordlessly gestures them into the kitchen where dinner has already been prepared. “We have pau buns and ginger-infused pea tendril and hibiscus-root salad.”

Azula nods. “I haven’t tried either.”

“You’ll love it.” Haru assures her.

Tyro rolls his eyes, “firebenders don’t like anything that doesn’t sear the tastebuds off.”

“Actually she’s been having trouble with spicy foods lately.” He pats her tummy, “we don’t think that the baby likes spice.”

“It’s an earthbender.” She declares. “It has to be.”

“How do you know.”

She gestures to his father, “firebenders don’t like anything that doesn’t sear the taste buds off.”

“I thought that, that was a stereotype.” Haru quirks a brow.

She shakes her head, “not if it’s true, it isn’t.”

Tyro chuckles and for the first time that evening, Azula seems to relax a little. Conversation still isn’t easy for her, mostly she takes bites from her salad just to have an excuse not to speak. Haru doesn’t think that she particularly likes the salad either. He lets her lean back into him as Tyro shares another war story. Azula listens very readily. He knows very well that she is fond of history and war tales. To hear them from the other side must be a fascination for her. And it is reassuring to see that she is rather itching for the new perspective.

.oOo.

Azula swaps stories with Haru’s father until her throat grows sore and then some, until the man gestures for her to pause to take some tea. “I think that, that’s enough discussion for tonight.” He says when she finishes. “My throat is also getting sore, don’t you pretend like yours isn’t.”

“Haru and your wife can still share stories.” She replies.

This time Haru chuckles. He has the same laugh as his father. “That’s dad’s polite way of telling you that he wants to get some sleep.”

Azula flushes, “oh.”

“You can come by tomorrow.” He offers. “Or you can spend the night, but I feel like you’d be more comfortable in a bed.”

Azula holds her hand to her bump, indeed her back would suffer much less if she returned to the little home that she and Haru have bought. “Alright, we will come back tomorrow. Next time I would like fried noodles for dinner…”

“Azula!” Haru nudges her. He rubs the back of his head, cheeks decently red. “Sorry, dad, sometimes she forgets that she’s not at the palace with her servants.”

“I did not forget.” She speaks for herself. “I am fairly certain that Earth Kingdom pea--commoners still have edible food.”

“She’s trying, I promise.” His face only grows redder. She isn’t entirely certain of why; it is only a simple statement of the truth. At any rate, the dinner had been quite a success if she had to say. “She still isn’t used to talking to non-nobles.”

“I can tell.” His dad quirks a brow.

“We can make fried noodles for you, Azula.” His mother says.

Her face lights up, “delightful, I look forward to it.”

Haru sighs and pulls the door closed behind him. “And here I thought that we’d make it through the whole dinner without any secondhand embarrassment.”

She furrows her brows, “you didn’t embarrass me, Haru.”

He bursts out laughing, “you’re something else, princess.” He wipes a tear from his eye and reaches for her hand.

“Do you think that your family likes me?” She asks.

“I think that you can consider yourself a part of it now.” He replies. And maybe one day she, Haru, and their baby will be welcomed back into her family.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azulaweek2021 #Azula #Haru #Azula/Haru #Fanfiction

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forever--darling · 4 years

Text

not too far away - s.m. (part eleven)

a/n: where he finally has to leave and return back to L.A.

warnings: 7.6k words of fluff shawn, lots of feelings, a nightmare, and a long goodbye

XI. a loving heart is the the truest wisdom

him

It felt unreal. Shawn literally thought he was floating on a cloud because there she was sat across the table of him, pasta on the corner of her mouth as she laughed at the way he was teasing her. Her hair was thrown up out of her face, and she was dressed in one of his hoodies because she couldn’t find one of her own at his apartment. Her hand would casually brush against his on the table and each time he swore his heart skipped a beat because finally here they were, together.

Nothing was keeping them apart and there was no longer something dividing them. It was just the two of them at a cheap Italian restaurant tucked in a booth in the back corner. There were no cameras and no eyes pressuring them as they sat and enjoyed a good meal with instrumental music sounding through the speakers. For once Shawn didn’t have to be Shawn Mendes but just Shawn, and there wasn’t anyone else he wanted to share that with besides her.

They had been friends for the last fifteen years of their life, with that small pause in between, and finally, nothing stood in their way. Shawn had wanted this since he was fourteen and knew that he wanted it at sixteen when he boarded that plane from Pickering and left her behind in tears wanting nothing more to admit his feelings to her. He never thought at twenty years old he would be sat across from his best friend at dinner, who he would later bring home to his apartment and kiss until her lips were swollen and bruised.

Sure, they hadn’t labeled their relationship to official but Shawn knew that this right here was all the confirmation he needed. He didn’t know how the hell he was supposed to leave her in the morning to board a plane and head back to LA. After spending almost every day with her and going through this emotional roller coaster they called their relationship, he knew it would take some sort of toll on him. He might even end up being late for his flight because he was sure he wouldn’t be able to untangle his limbs from hers in the morning. She was finally his and now leaving her behind while he went back to his life as singer Shawn Mendes seemed like a crack to his chest.

He missed his life in LA and missed the late night in the studios. There wasn’t a question about it, he loved his job but now there was something else he loved just as much, and that was scary. His career wasn’t easy to deal with on most days and he wanted nothing more than to wrap Y/N up in his arms and protect her from the harsh reality that outside of their little pink bubble everything wasn’t perfect. The media weren’t always the most positive towards Shawn’s relationships and if someone happened to snap one picture of the two of them, he knew everything would crumble to bits.

It worried him, to know that someday she could potentially pull away from him again but this time because of the opinions other people had and his unhinged life. That’s why at the moment as he stared at the girl across the table that had bits of hair falling in her face and was bent over in sweet laughter, Shawn promised he would protect her. He would keep her hidden away from it all and keep her for himself. He would wrap her up in his arms and keep her safe from the danger that lies outside their bubbles and their apartments. Things had finally fallen into place, and he was not about to let the girl he had so easily fallen in love with slip through his fingers a second time.

“Can you stop laughing at me,” Y/N whined, face red from embarrassment, pasta sauce dripping down her chin.

Shawn’s chest vibrated as he laughed, “Well, it’s not my fault that you completely missed your mouth.”

“Hey, that’s not fair. You were distracting me,” she replied, trying to defend herself.

Twirling a pasta noodle around on his fork, his stomach turned at the beautiful sounds of laughter that was falling from her mouth as her hands moved around frantically as she talked. “Distracted you? I was just eating my pasta.”

“Sure, just eating your pasta. I’ve never seen anyone eat pasta that way,” she reasoned taking the napkin that sat next to her to wipe her chin.

Crumbling it up, she dropped it onto the table next to her plate a spot of pasta sauce still located near her lips. She was smiling at him and Shawn smiled back dropping his fork onto the plate. “Are you making fun of the way I eat?”

“No, not all,” she teased head tilting to the side in that adorable way he loved so much, “Just the way you eat pasta.”

Shawn laughed again, shaking his head, as he glanced down towards his plate before going back to looking at her. Her smile had softened and she was staring at him with her hand propped under her chin, her dinner forgotten, along with the sauce on her face she was clearly still oblivious about. His amber orbs locked onto the white sauce and chuckled, reaching forward thumb out. Her expression turned to one of confusion but disappeared as she felt the pad of his thumb swipe along the corner of her lips.

“I’m pretty sure, you would have gotten a little mad if I let you walk out with that still on your face,” Shawn smirked, sucking the remnants of the sauce off his thumb.

Her mouth fell open agape and her eyes turned to slits at they way he sucked lightly onto the pad of his thumb. He knew by the look on her face that she wanted to say something to him about it but didn’t get to as the waitress appeared with a large smile spread across her face. An older lady, with black hair, brown eyes, and lines forming around her mouth and underneath her eyes. She had been nothing but kind to Shawn and Y/N the whole night and secretly thought they were adorable.

“How’s everything tasted so far?” she asked, though in reality she had served the food fifteen minutes prior and had gotten too caught up with other tables to come over and check to see if everything tasted alright.

Shawn offered the waitress a small smile and quickly responded before Y/N could, “Amazing.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” the waitress replied getting ready to walk away but stopped as he continued.

“Yeah, actually could we get some boxes for the food. If we could get the check too that would be lovely,” he sweet talked, noticing Y/N roll her eyes from across the table.

The waitress’s smile widened, “Of course, I’ll get right on that for you, darling.”

As she made her away from the table and out of earshot, Y/N leaned closer over the table and lowered her voice so only he could hear, “You’re such a kiss ass, you know that?”

“What?” he fanned surprise, “I was just being polite because of the great service that we got tonight.”

“Sure,” she responded, not sounding convinced at all.

Reappearing, the waitress traded with Shawn. She dropped the foam boxes onto the table and in place took his credit card from him to pay for the meal. As soon as she was gone again, Y/N was reaching over the table to slap him in the arm. “I was supposed to pay this time!”

He sent her a smirk, “Gotta be faster there, hun. Maybe next time.”

Y/N slumped against the back of the booth, arms crossed over her chest as she pulled her lips into a pout that she and Shawn both knew was fake. “Why are we leaving so quickly anyways? It’s not even late. In fact, it’s only eight-thirty. Plus your flight doesn’t leave until nine tomorrow.”

He knew what she was doing. She wasn’t entirely sure what was going on and as a way to make him admit to his devious plan, she was tripping him into telling her by asking questions and annoying him with reasons why they shouldn’t be in a hurry. And because he knew Y/N so well, Shawn didn’t fall for it. Even the pout didn’t work which would have if he wasn’t the guy who was sat across from her.

He ignored the sulking that Y/N was doing across the table and instead piled both of his pasta and hers into one box so that he wouldn’t have to carry two and would leave a little more space in his fridge. As the foam topped closed over the pasta and locked in place, on time the waitress popped out with Shawn’s card.

“Thank you for coming in tonight, guys,” she said kindly handing over the credit card.

He took it and slipped it into his wallet as he replied, “No thank you so much. Everything tasted really amazing.”

“Well feel free to come back anytime,” the waitress smiled, “And have a lovely night.”

“Yeah, you too,” Y/N spoke up, her pout wiped off of her face.

Sending a small wave, the waitress walked away to tend to another table. Sliding out of the booth, Shawn pulled on his coat and zipped it up. And just as Y/N went to pull hers on, he grabbed it from the booth and held it open for her. A smile appeared on her face at the sweet gesture as she slid each arm into the sleeves and he pulled it up and onto her shoulders. Zipping it up, she started to make her way through the restaurant heading towards the door with Shawn’s hand placed on her lower back the whole time, the box of pasta in his other hand.

The rest of the ride in his jeep back towards his apartment, he refused to tell Y/N what was going on his mind. The only kind of response he gave to all her questions, was a gentle squeeze on her thigh from his hand. Soon she had given up and fallen back into the seat defeated. It was about an eight-minute drive back to his apartment and once Shawn had parked his jeep in his normal parking spot in the parking ramp, she had jumped from the passenger seat.

She bolted for the ramp’s staircase, and he followed after her slowly, pasta box warming his hand. Once they made it up to his apartment, she had tapped her foot impatiently against the cemented floor in the hallway as Shawn unlocked the door with his keys. As soon as it was unlocked, Y/N pushed past him to get into the apartment. It was dark inside with only a single lamp from the living room providing a soft glow of light.

She turned on her heels as Shawn closed the door behind him and she stared at him with a look that said, “Okay you can tell me now.”

He smiled at how impatient she was because in reality he only made them leave the restaurant so early because he wanted to kiss her. Ever since he noticed that pasta sauce on her lips that’s all he had been thinking about and now all he could think about was how he just had to set the pasta down on the counter and then she was all his. However, the carry-out box didn’t quite make it to the counter. Actually, it didn’t make it past a few meters of the door. Shawn took one step away from the front door and his elbow bumped into a nearby coat rack sending the foam box of pasta to the ground.

A look of panic crossed his face because he was in no mood to have to clean the floor but felt relieved to notice that none had spilled and the pasta was still safely lying within the box. Maybe a little shaken up, but at least not all over his floor. He knew he should just pick up. Just move it into the kitchen but it hadn’t spilled and as Shawn’s eyes moved up Y/N’s frame to settle onto her beautiful face, he said fuck it and crossed the few feet that kept them apart. His hands latched onto her hips and he backed her up against the wall in the entryway, a soft thud sounding through the apartment as her back hit the cold wall.

His pupils were dilated and they were only able to focus on one thing, her plump lips. Shawn’s hands slipped under her, his hoodie, palms gripping the soft skin underneath gently. His lips were parted, his tongue quickly swiping across his upper lip moistening the pink area. He pressed his body harder against Y/N’s, his lips dying to taste hers. Knowing he couldn’t wait for a second longer he leaned in, heart beating loudly in his ears, as he expected his lips to fall against hers, but fell short as her voice rang through his ears.

“Are you going to pick that up?”

Shawn’s eyes fluttered open, and a moment of confusion crossed over his face as he stared at her, eyebrow raised, before it finally registered what she was talking about, “It’s fine.”

“Fine,” she retorted the word sounding sour on her tongue as her hand gestured towards the box, “You dropped it on the floor.”

If he wasn’t so focused on trying to fool around, he might have thought that her reaction to him dropping the foam box would have been adorable. But the reality was he was too turned on and aching to kiss her to think that it was adorable at the moment. “Yeah, but it’s still in the box,” he mumbled out, knee finding a way in between her legs, parting them.

“Yeah but it’s still on the floor,” she argued, shutting down all of his advances for a fucking box of pasta, “I was going to eat that.”

He sighed, warm breath fanning across her lips, “And you can still eat it. Later.”

“Shawn-”

“I’m trying to kiss you right now and you’re worried about the fucking pasta?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed, and clearly frustrated.

As the words came out of his mouth, Y/N became silent to think about what he had said. It was like a switch had flipped in her head. She had realized what was actually happening in the situation and knew she sounded insane for going on about the leftovers of her dinner instead of Shawn’s lips that were glistening from his tongue wetting them.

In that minute though that she took to think about it, Shawn rolled his eyes before slamming his lips onto hers. A small whine escaped her throat at the sudden feeling as she melted into his strong arms. After hours of being locked in his apartment, just kissing her, he knew almost every single one of her weaknesses.

From the way, her legs would tremble when he would nibble on her bottom lip to the way she sighed happily in his mouth as his long nimble fingers ran through her short hair at the sides of her head. He knew that if his hand had inched its way down to her backside and gave it a squeeze that her mouth would open welcoming in his tongue. He had gotten accustomed to how her body responded to his but that still didn’t change the fact that fire would shoot into his stomach every time her leg would hook around his, pulling him into her or when her arms would wind around his neck to steady herself against his firm body.

They had gone from kissing once at his apartment, to then again a week later at her birthday party, to now not being able to keep their lips off of each other. Maybe it was the high of all these new feelings finally being out in the open or maybe it was because of the fact that Shawn would be leaving for LA and didn’t know when he’d be back. Whatever the reasons were, they just couldn’t get themselves to stop kissing the other or getting familiar with the way the other’s body worked. To an extent of course.

They hadn’t slept together, in fact, they hadn’t done more than the heavy make-out sessions. Y/N, not having experience, had nothing to do with it either because she wanted it as much as Shawn did. Fuck, did he want it? There were so many times when he would have to detach his lips from hers and untangle themselves so he could use to the bathroom to deal with himself. No, the reality was they wanted to take things slow, or slower. They had only ever been friends and all of this physical stuff was new in their friendship and in their relationship. It was something the both of them had been longing for since they were teenagers, and even though their feelings for each other had been building over the years and had recently exploded, they didn’t want to rush things and have it all falling apart later.

Adrenaline was coursing through Shawn’s veins as a deep yearning had started to form in the pit of his chest. His hands had moved back up away from her ass to her waist, as he made work of sucking onto her bottom lip. She mewled at the feeling as her hands wandered across his back to his shoulders and down to where the zipper of his coat lied on his chest. Her fingers moved it down before she began to push the material off his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor next to the now forgotten pasta. Quickly, she did the same with her jacket, which landed next to his.

This was the point where Shawn thought that she would pull away and he would go about his business in the bathroom but instead, he felt her cold hands grasping at his back through his hoodie with all of her might as her lips continued to connect with his hungrily. Shawn knew that if they were going to stop they should soon or he might actually burst in his pants but she didn't stop. In fact, Y/N took it one step further. Her hands fell to his waist, manicured fingers curling around the green fabric of his hoodie. With her nose brushing against his, she began to raise her arms pulling the sweatshirt up exposing Shawn’s defined torso underneath.

Before she can pull it up and over his head though, his hands moved to hers stopping the movement as his lips fell away, revealing his eyes that had turned to saucers. “Hey. Wait, wait, wait.”

“What?” she asked, fingers tingling at how warm his skin was.

Shawn’s eyes scanned over her face, from the way her eyes glistened in the dim lighting to how her hair was now slightly tangled from his wandering hands, and finally to her bright red lips that were swollen and glistening from his saliva.

“Are you sure about this?” the way he asked was so soft and with so much care because though he would do this in a heartbeat he would wait longer for her if she wanted him too.

Her lips curled into a soft smile, revealing her teeth, and Shawn swore that his heart had stopped for a mere second, “Yes. I’ve never been more sure about anything.”

Instantly, his mouth widened in a smile, and couldn’t resist leaning in to place another kiss on her lips. This one is softer and slower. After a few seconds, he pulled away to be met with a confused look from Y/N on why he stopped. He didn’t say anything but instead sent her a cheeky grin as his arms moved down to wrap around her thighs, and in one swift motion he lifted her up and threw her over his shoulder. It felt unreal. Shawn felt like he was floating on a cloud and the only thing he could register as he made his way towards his bedroom was the string of giggles that had escaped Y/N Y/L/N’s mouth.

her

At first, it was peaceful. The waves moved back and forth slowly underneath your body as you laid across the top, stomach reaching for the sky. Your hair was spread out around your head and your fingers curled in out and of the light blue water. There were no other sounds that filled your ears besides the sound of the waves moving back and forth and your steady breathing. At first, it was peaceful and then it wasn’t.

One minute you were floating and the next, stuck in a glass box that was locked sinking into the depths of the water. You held your breath for as long as you could, hands punching and slapping against the wall. Thuds sounding through the water with each force you sent against the sheet of glass. You screamed, bubbles forming around you, as the water began to fill your lungs. It was burning your throat and your eyes were screwed shut. Your limbs were scorching and you could see the rays of light from the surface of the water moving further and further out of reach. At that moment the pain was unbearable, all burning and stretching and filling up every single part of your body, feeling like you were on fire and then all at once it stopped.

A loud gasp ripped through your throat as you shot up in the bed, a sheet of sweat covering your body as you breathed heavily, chest rising and falling. Your hair was sticking to your forehead and goosebumps rose across the surface of your skin. Frantically, your eyes looked around the room until they fell onto the figure beside you. Shawn was asleep, face buried deep in his pillow, bare limbs spread across his side of the bed. A cold draft traveled along your skin causing a shiver to run down your spine. Glancing down at yourself, the sheets had dropped from your chest, revealing your bare torso. You sighed, it was just a dream.

Pushing the damp hair off of your forehead, you slipped out of the bed pulling on your underwear that lay discarded on the floor near the nightstand. You made your way towards the bathroom, also grabbing a navy blue t-shirt that was Shawn’s that sat in a hamper basket. You threw it over your body and tiptoed into the large bathroom, closing the door behind you.

Flicking the light switch, the white bulbs illuminated sending the whole dark room lit. You stood in front of the mirror taking in your appearance. Your face looked pale, lips dry, bags forming underneath your eyes, skin shiny from the sweat. Tucking the short hair behind your ears, you leaned over the sink to splash water on your warm skin. Your eyes closed, and the images from the dream, nightmare, flashed behind your lids.

You could feel the panic setting in. Tears began to swell in your tear ducts as your throat felt tight. Your hands were gripping the sink tightly and it was getting hard to breathe. Eyes fluttering open, the tears all fell at once. Like the timer had gone off for some sprinklers and now all you could feel was the water that was spilling down your face. Your lips were slightly parted but no sobs raked through you. It was a silent cry, one that happened slowly and quietly. It didn’t take as much energy out of you compared to a full-on breakdown which meant it lasted longer and felt just as painful.

Your eyes were getting puffy at this point, face hot and red. Hands trembling, knuckles white from how tight your grip was on the sink, head pounding. Your stomach was lurching and you felt like you were drowning as much as you had been in that dream. That same dream you hadn’t had in almost a year. One that had only caused you to wake up shaking and in tears when you were in the hospital.

On those nights where your heartbeat had slowed down and your breathing had sounded heavy. It was those nights that you were barely holding on and everyone around you was on their last shrill of hope. That’s why you were standing in Shawn’s bathroom panicking because that dream only ever appeared when you had been close to death so why now? Why was it making another appearance when your cancer wasn’t close to being as bad as it was before and why a day before your surgery?

Your surgery was scheduled for the day after tomorrow, the day after Shawn’s flight back to LA. He wasn’t going to know, you decided, because it was something he didn’t need to deal with. You had told your parents and James a few days after the party and their faces had dropped, never seeing them look that broken before right after they had been so thankful for your health and for your life. They felt like they were back at square one, with a sick child in their hands but the only difference now was you weren’t a child anymore. You were an adult who was capable of making your own decisions.

It was your decision to have the surgery, your decision to keep it away from Shawn, and your decision to do things differently this time. You weren’t going to keep it in the dark, your cancer. You hadn’t done it yet, but you were going to tell everyone. Hours before the surgery because you had a feeling, a terrible feeling, and your family needed all the support from their friends. What scared you the most was going to be telling Karen, Manny, and Aaliyah. They were the closest friends that your family had, and Shawn was going to be the only one to not know, right away at least. They might tell him, you knew that, but if that happens by the time he knows and makes it back to Canada, you will already be in surgery.

It will be done and you won’t have to deal with Shawn kissing you and making promises he knew were not his to make. You loved him, really loved him which is why you couldn’t have him there if you ended up dying on that OR table.

The drowning. The dream of you drowning, had to have meant nothing, that’s what you kept telling yourself but if you really thought that it didn’t mean anything why were you stood in front of a mirror crying. Before you could spend more time thinking about it, a knock sounded from outside of the door and your body froze as it traveled to your ears. It was soft, and if you had been sobbing you probably wouldn’t have heard it.

Quickly, you wiped at your eyes, riding them of any tears but they were still red and there was no way Shawn wouldn’t notice that you had been crying. With a deep breath and a single glance back at your reflection, you moved towards the door. Hand wrapping around the cool knob, you opened it to be met with a drowsy Shawn in nothing but his boxers. Lines were on his face, and his eyes were squinting against the lights from the bathroom. His hair was messy and sticking up in places. He looked so tired and it made you feel bad that you had accidentally woken him up since he had a flight in the morning.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, body leaning against the doorway, as he rubbed at his eyes.

You nodded, head down, hoping he couldn’t see yours, “Yeah, fine.”

As you tried to walk by him, his hand wrapped around your stomach stopping you from entering the bedroom. You sighed, eyes lifting to lock with his. Almost instantly both his hands moved up to cup your face, his tired state now being overridden by worry. “Are you sure? Because you don’t look so good. I mean you look beautiful, like always, but you’re just looking a little ill.”

His amber orbs were scanning your face, thumb stroking your cheek and you wanted nothing more than to tell him. But you knew you couldn’t stay up talking about a dream you had when he had a flight in the morning. He needed his sleep and the last thing he needed was to hear about your personal worries. Your eyes moved away from his and you shook off his touch. Turning the lights off in the bathroom, you pass by him and back into his bedroom.

“Yeah, just had a nightmare,” you replied, getting into the bed and pulling the covers up.

Shawn still stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest and gaze on you, “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head, “I just need to go back to sleep and so do you. You have a flight in the morning.”

“Don’t remind me,” he said, crossing the length of the floor from the bathroom to the bed.

He pulled the covers back and slipped in beside you. Laying on his side, his arm snaked around your waist and pulled you closer towards his bare chest. Warm legs wrapping around your cold ones, you smiled as his body pressed against yours.

“It’ll be fine,” you assured him, mind already being brought away from the dream.

“I know it will be,” Shawn mumbled, hand brushing your hair away from your neck so his face could nestle against it. His lips kissed over the new bruises, he made earlier, gently. “Just going to miss this; Canada, my family, you.”

You smiled, “I’m going to miss you too, Shawn.”

Another kiss was pressed in the dip of where your shoulder met your neck just as your eyes fluttered to a close and you began to drift back to sleep, your nightmare and all worries set aside.

The next morning, you woke up with the sun peeking through the blinds and into your eyes. You couldn’t move at first, the night before traveling through your mind. From the moment you walked through Shawn’s front door to when you woke up and ended up in his bathroom, tears rushing down your face.

Finally, you thought about how you fell back asleep, safely in your best friend’s arms as he placed kisses to your soft skin. Your stomach dropped at the thought of not having him there in the middle of the night to calm you down if you were to have a small panic attack. He didn’t even fully know what it had been about, but didn’t push you to tell him and still hugged you until you fell asleep. Slowly, you sat up in the bed, Shawn’s shirt falling down to the middle of your thighs, and instantly as you stood that’s when you felt it. The soreness that resonated from your whole body, primarily between your legs. You stumbled as you took a step.

“Shit, Shawn,” you grumbled, hand gripping the end of the bed.

After a few seconds, you took another step and then another. Walking into the bathroom, you cringed as you met your reflection, this time no longer red or crying. Running your fingers through your tangled hair, you pushed it back behind your ears before grabbing the spare toothbrush you had been using for the last couple days. Piling the toothpaste on top, you brushed your teeth, then made your way back into Shawn’s room trying to find the sleeping shorts you also had left somewhere the night before. However, your underwear and his shirt would have to do.

Ignoring the pressure that was being pushed against your legs, you continued making your way out towards the kitchen where you could hear the song Slim Shady by Eminem playing through Shawn’s speakers. A smile pulled at your lips as you entered the living room to see the man himself humming and swaying by the oven to the song. A spatula was in his hand as he rapped to the verse, head bopping from side to side. He was already dressed in a pink hoodie, and a pair of joggers, hair slightly damp from probably taking a shower.

As the chorus of the song hit, he spun around on his heels, eyes widening as they landed on you. “Good morning!” he exclaimed, hands raised high in the air.

“What are you doing?” a giggle slipped as you asked the question.

“Making breakfast,” he grinned, gesturing towards the stack of pancakes that sat on the island with the spatula, “You hungry?”

You groaned, “Starving.”

Let’s see surgery was around six o’clock in the evening tomorrow and you couldn’t eat for twenty-four hours before the surgery so you were still golden. This was probably going to be the last thing you ate, so you knew you should pile up on the food which was a good thing that Shawn had a plate full of fluffy tan pancakes waiting. Skipping up the few steps from the living room to the kitchen, you made your way over to Shawn who held out a cream mug to you. You peeked in to see that he had made you tea and your smile widened. Hand clasping around the cup, he leaned down to press a quick kiss to your lips. A peck was all it was and as he did it nothing had ever felt more natural. Mornings with Shawn, breakfast, and short kisses that made you feel like you had been together for years.

As he pulled away, he hummed in satisfaction, “Minty. I see you brushed your teeth.”

“Well I wasn’t going to walk out to have you kiss my morning breath,” you replied, walking around the counter to take a seat on a stool, mug of tea in your palms.

“I think I would have survived,” Shawn chuckled as he turned back to the oven to flip the two pancakes that were being cooked, spitting verses as he did so. “How are you feeling?”

Your head fell at the question, cheeks heating up, as you instantly thought of how it was a struggle to walk when you got out of the bed. Biting onto your bottom lip, your hand found a place under your chin. “A little sore, actually.”

At your words, his head snapped in your direction, a grin forming on his face. “I actually was asking because of the whole you having a nightmare last night.”

Oh, god. You covered your face in embarrassment, though you knew you had no reason to be in front of Shawn after all these weeks spent together especially the week after your birthday. “Oh, shit. Right.”

A laugh burst from his chest, his eyes gleaming as they looked at you and your flustered state, “Yeah but you know I don’t mind hearing that either.”

You chuckled nervously, hand tugging at the collar of the shirt anxiously as you knew your face was stained red. The action, though you hadn’t noticed caught Shawn’s eyes and he couldn’t help but admire you in his shirt. It hung loosely off your body, long enough to cover your butt, but still only coming down to about your mid thigh. “By the way, love the shirt.”

Eyes snapping back towards him, he sends you a wink and with how flirty he was being, you could already feel that awkwardness that surrounded you starting to fade. In its place, that confidence rose and you knew that you could match his game. “Yeah? You like it?”

“Looks so much better on you. If only you could walk around in my clothes all day.”

“Easy,” you joked, attention falling back on the food at the sound of your stomach.

Spinning the stool back and forth, you took an empty plate that was laid out on the counter and began to pile pancakes on the top. Four sounded like the number to start with. You took the syrup and started to pour it over the pancakes as your gaze raked across Shawn’s body and the clothes he was wearing. “You’re dressed already.”

“My flight’s at nine, remember?” he said, eyes glancing over towards you.

Your eyebrows furrowed, “Well what time is it?”

“Seven thirty.”

Your eyes widened, “Oh shit, already. You’re supposed to be leaving soon and I’m guessing you’re probably waiting for me to leave.”

Setting the syrup back down, you went to stand but Shawn turned hand taking yours on the counter, “Hey, hey, hey. Slow down. It’s fine. I’ve already called a car and they’re getting here soon.”

“I should probably get going then.”

His hand squeezed yours, “No, you don’t have to. Take as much time as you want.”

You cocked an eyebrow, “But don’t you have to lock up because let’s just say, I would be the one to accidentally get locked outside of your apartment in only my underwear and your shirt. It’s not like I’d be able to get back in.”

He didn’t say anything but just sent you a grin. His eyes glancing away from you towards the end of the counter before moving back to you.

“What?” you asked hesitantly, thinking he was up to something.

Following his gaze, your eyes caught sight of a key. Your breath hitched in your throat because that wasn’t Shawn’s key to his apartment. His was on a key ring with his car keys. That was just a single key. Singular and without a key ring.

Your throat became dry, “Is that a key to your apartment?”

Biting onto his bottom lip, Shawn nodded innocently turning back to the pancakes to dish them onto the plate with the rest of the stack. “Why?” you asked.

“Well, I was thinking, that I don’t know how long I’m going to be gone and for the last almost week this is where you have been staying. Let’s say that you found out you forgot something here and the thing is I’m in LA so there isn’t a way for you to get it back unless you call the landlord or I just happen to magically show up. Or what if you’re just missing me and want to come throw on one of my hoodies and chill on the couch. I’m not saying you would have to take the key because it’s a big step but we’ve been friends for a long time so it’s really not that big if you think about it. So you can take it or don’t take it. Doesn’t really matter.” he was rambling at this point, cheeks becoming rosy, as you smiled at him from where you sat.

“Shawn,” you responded cutting off his rambling, “Yes.”

“Yes?” the word came out high and rushed, eyes wide as they looked towards you.

“Yes,” you confirmed nodding, “I’ll take the key.”

A second passed before it seemed to register in Shawn’s mind what you said. Once it had, he had dropped the spatula to the counter and balled his hand into a fist. He thrust it high in the air as a loud “Yes!” came from his lips.

Shaking your head, a blush formed on your cheeks, and your lips curled into a soft smile as your fork dug into the pancake stack ready to devour it whole.

It was seven forty-five and Shawn’s Uber was downstairs waiting for him. You had him for less than ten minutes after you had finished eating and as soon as you had set your plate in the sink, he had wrapped you up in his arms and hadn’t let you go. Now it was time for him to go and you knew that he would have to get downstairs within the next minute or you both would start to hearing honking from his Uber. His duffel bag and guitar case were lying at your feet, and he was already zipped up in his coat. His lips were planted against yours, humming against them as his hands were wandering across your back down to your hips.

It only took a few more seconds before Shawn’s hand had wandered lower and gave your butt a tight squeeze through the navy shirt. You gasped pulling away from his hot lips. “Shawn,” you scolded.

“What?” he asked, sounding so innocent.

You raised an eyebrow challenging him as his hand squeezed again causing a small yelp to escape from your mouth. He smirked, hand flat, he began to rub along your round bottom, “Here’s the deal, last night I fucked you and I fucked you… hard. I think it’s only fair that I get ass privileges.”

“Really,” you mumbled, sass dripping off the word, as you rolled your eyes.

“Hey, don’t give me that attitude,” he said, voice sounding firm, though there was a smile spreading across his face, “You know I’m an ass man.”

You nodded, hand coming up to comb through the side of his curls, causing a sigh to fall from his lips, “Yeah, I think that it’s very clear with all the grabbing you’ve been doing in the last two days.”

“Sorry, it’s not my fault that you are so damn beautiful,” he replied, lips coming down to meet yours again. He kissed you hard like you were a drink he was trying to savor until the last drop.

Though you didn’t want to, and it almost felt painful too, you pulled away. Your forehead connected with his, eyes staring into his amber ones that were sparkling. He huffed as your arms dropped from around his neck and you gave him a look that told him that “he should go before you grab onto him again and never let him go.” You smiled up at him, hand brushing his cheek causing the sweetest smile you had ever seen to form on his pink lips.

“I should go,” he whispered, breath hitting your lips.

“I know,” you replied just as quiet, as his hands dropped away from your body.

You took a step back, fingers pushing a loose strand of hair back behind your ear. Your hand covered your lips, that were still tingling from touching his, and watched as he sent you one more glance over his shoulder, hand twisting the doorknob. Just as he opened the door, and began to walk out, your voice filled your own ears before you had even realized you had called out to him.

“Shawn, wait!”

You weren’t sure what you wanted to say. Were you supposed to tell him that you loved him because he was leaving? Because you were having surgery with the possibility of not being wheeled back out of that room alive. Were those three little words going to comfort him of the pain he might feel later, because hey, at least he knew that you loved him back. He had told you, at your party, that he loved you and you could feel it with every touch of his lips or feel of his hands. Could see the passion that filled his eyes whenever you caught him staring at you. At the end of the day, it was quite simple.

You felt the same way about him as he did for you, yet you had never voiced it out loud because of the coward you were. Did he even know that you loved him? He had to right? You weren’t about to let him walk out of that door, with a chance of never seeing you again, without telling him how irrevocably and completely in love with him you were. No person, in their right mind would not tell the person how much they loved them if there was a risk they would never see them again. You would be fucking crazy not too.

“Don’t forget about me when you’re out partying with all those models okay?” your chest felt like it had just been shoved down into your stomach.

That’s not what you wanted to say and definitely wasn’t what he wanted to hear but he still smiled like it was. One that sent your heart beating and butterflies to erupt in your stomach. “Forget you? Never.”

The corners of his lips pulled up, his smile widening, showing those pearly white perfect teeth. And with one last longing glance, he had walked out, door falling closed behind him. All you could do was stare at the it, hand bunched into the bottom of his shirt, with one thought moving through your mind as you stared at your best friend and the man you loved, leave to return back to the life where he belonged.

I love you too.

Then you heard your phone vibrate against the kitchen counter near the coffee machine. Sighing sadly, you grabbed the device and instantly felt your heart skip in your chest as you looked down at your lock screen and the message that was displayed. “I picked up the pasta. It’s in the fridge! Call you when I land :)”

Another thought formed in your head.

Shawn Mendes, I’m in love with you and I should have told you when I had the chance.

next part

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fanfic #my writing #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes angst

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crystalwillow · 4 years

Text

Fixing A Broken Heart

Paring: Ethan x Casey w/ Bryce & Sienna. (a little bit of Bryce x Casey)

Tagging: @eleanorbloom @brycelahelalover

“Casey honey! It’s time to get up and ready for your new school!”

Casey opened her eyes, groaning groggily as she took in the light that flooded into her room through the cracks in her curtains. She yawned as she got up from under the covers, throwing the curtains open before opening her door, finding her mom smiling at her.

“Ready for breakfast honey pie?”

“Yeah.”

She followed her mom to the kitchen as she rubbed sleep from her eyes and took a seat at the table. She took her hair out and threw it back up in a messy bun, so it wasn’t in her face as she ate, smiling at her mom as she placed her favorite pop tarts and a slice of toast on the table in front of her.

“Thanks mom.”

“You’re welcome sweetie.” Her mom smiled as she kissed her forehead. “Now you remember what time the bus leaves, don’t you?”

“I do mum. 8:15am sharp from the stop just down the road.”

“Great! Don’t be late okay?”

“But I thought you were taking me today?”

“Oh Casey. I forgot to tell you last night. I have an interview this morning that starts at the same time as school does for you.”

“Oh...”

“I’m sorry honey. I know that I promised. Why don’t I buy us Chinese tonight as a treat?”

Casey thought her mothers words over for a brief moment, before settling her face into a happier expression.

“Yeah. Okay. You’ll remember the special noodles I like?”

“I could never forget after your freak out when you were 8 years old. You’d never let it go.”

The two shared a chuckle and a hug before Casey’s mom said goodbye and headed out the front door. After finishing her breakfast, Casey placed her plate in the sink and headed upstairs to grab a shower, get dressed and check her bag had everything she would need. At 8:05am she set off to the bus stop just down the road to wait for the bus to school. The ride was bumpy, loud and had an uneasy setting for Casey. Everyone was looking at her as if she was some type of extraterrestrial being. When the bus stopped outside the school stop, she was the last one off. She hugged herself as she walked towards the front doors of the school building. Anxiety and fear eating away at her. Not knowing where to go by herself she wandered the halls until she came across the one door she was looking for. The principal’s office. She knocked politely and waited to be called in.

“Come in!”

Casey opened the door and stuck her head in and met the principal’s face which changed into a friendly smile upon seeing her.

“Ah. You must be new.”

“Y-yes ma’am. My name i-is C-Casey. Va-Valentine.”

“Come in my sweet. There’s no need to be nervous.” The principal smiled at her warmly.

Swallowing harshly, Casey opened the door fully and stepped inside the office, closing the door behind her and sitting opposite the principal as she finished typing some things on her computer. As she waited, Casey looked around the office noting the name plaque on the principals desk. ‘Principal. B. Witherspoon’

Clearing her throat, principal Witherspoon smiled as Casey snapped her attention towards her.

“S-sorry.”

“For?”

“Looking around. I-it was rude of me.”

“Relax darling. It’s okay.” She offered Casey a kind smile which was half returned. After helping Casey sort her schedule, she walked her to her first class, knocking on the door, walking in and smiling at the teacher.

“Sorry for the interruption, Mr. Nelson. I have a new student for you.”

Casey stood behind the principal and nervously gave the teacher a wave.

“Thank you, principal Witherspoon.”

The principal smiled at Casey and gave her shoulder a quick rub. “You’ll be okay. Mr. Nelson is one of the best teachers we have at this school.”

Casey nodded and the principal left the classroom. Mr. Nelson introduced himself to Casey, and pointed her to a seat at the back of the room next to a boy with long-ish brown hair and glasses. His expression stoic, and eyes that were bluer than any ocean she had ever seen in her life so far. She was so mesmerized by the boy that she almost tripped over another students bag.

“Careful!” The boy who she was staring at exclaimed. Narrowly stopping the accident.

“Huh? Oh! Th-thank you.. um..”

“Don’t mention it.”

Casey took her seat and pulled out her notebook and pen. At the front of the class Mr. Nelson had minimized the PowerPoint and was looking at the class.

“Now. We will now take a few minutes to get to know our new classmate.”

“UM.. well uhhhh.” Casey stammered looking for words, and around the room panicked. She knew this would happen a lot to day, but introducing herself always made her nervous. She could feel a panic attack starting to bubble up inside of her, that’s when as if she was in some movie or a story her eyes met the boys ocean blue ones. They were full of kindness and patience as she stared into them, a small smile crept onto her face. As if she was giving him a silent thank you, he gave her a small and subtle nod. Taking a deep breath to calm herself down, Casey rose to her feet and smiled at the class.

“Well, my name is Casey Valentine. I’ve transferred here from a school in California. Uhhh, I live with my mum and our dog snowball.” At the mention of her dog’s name, her eyes went wide with horror. “Oh no! I forgot to feed snowball!”

Seeing the panic creeping onto her face, Mr. Nelson done his best to calm her down.

“Now it’s okay Casey. He’s going to be okay. It will be okay.”

Casey sat in her seat and slumped over on her desk as she tried to calm herself down. She knew deep down that he would be okay, but right now she feared she’d go home and find him dead. After that the day passed in a blur of introductions and hard work. When she returned home she called out to her mom but got no response. She looked around the whole house but there was no sign of her. Concluding that she was probably shopping, Casey headed to the kitchen, filling snowballs food and water bowls, crouching beside him as he ate the food enthusiastically.

“I’m so sorry I forgot to feed you this morning snow. It was careless of me.”

She stroked his fluffy coat for a few moments then headed to her room and started on her homework. After she had everything at her desk, she went to open her bedroom window and tie back her curtains. Casey was working hard on a math problem when her phone rang, a smile lit up her features when she saw the name of one of her best friends from back in California. She wasted no time in picking up the call, answering excitedly and with a new burst of energy.

“Sienna!”

“CASEY! I, well WE didn’t think you’d pick up.”

“We?”

“mhm! Bryce is here too!”

“Hey Cassie!”

“Hi Brycie!”

“UGHHHH CASEYYYYYYY. You know I don’t like you calling me thaaaattt!”

“But what fun is life if you can’t tease your friends every now and then?”

“... fine. I’ll let it slip this time. But only because I’m missing you”

“Hey! I miss her too you know!”

Casey chuckled as her two friends engaged in a playful fight on the other end of the line. The three chatted for hours as Casey done her homework, upon hearing the front door open and close again, Casey let out a sigh.

“Guys, I should go. I think my mum just come home.”

“AWWW. Do you really have to go?”

“Yes Bryce, I really have to go. But I’ll call you guys again at the weekend.”

“Awww...” Bryce sighed. Casey could practically hear the pout in his voice as Sienna spoke up

“We’ll look forward to your call! It’s not the same hanging out with out you. I hope we can do it again soon.”

“We definitely will you guys. I love you!”

“We love you too Casey!”

After saying a couple more goodbye’s Casey hung up and rushed down the stairs to the kitchen, following the smell of food.

“Mom? ... Mom!”

She ran over to her and hugged her from behind. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, feeling all of the leftover anxiety and fear from the day flood out of her body as she relaxed.

“Oh! Hey honey pie. How was school?” Her mom asked as she hugged Casey back just as tightly.

“It was okay. I had to introduce myself a lot and I was a little bit scared at first. But I met some friendly faces who helped me out, so I didn’t make myself seem like too much of a fool.”

“Aw, my little girl isn’t a fool. She couldn’t be even if she tried. Though she is extremely goofy at times.”

“Mooommmm.”

Her mom laughed and ruffled Casey’s hair playfully.

“Now, can you set the table and I’ll come over to sort out the dinner.”

The two sat at the dinner table together, smiling and laughing as Casey’s mom asked her what her favourite class is so far. She would of course say Mr. Nelson’s class. Of course when she was asked why she gave the obvious answer.

“Mom.. really? You know that I love biology!”

She wasn’t going to let her mom know that there was a cute boy in the class that she was attracted to in some magnetic way. It was similar to how she felt for her friend Bryce. It’s why she enjoyed teasing him so much. But the feeling towards this boy in her new biology class was somehow a stronger version of what she felt for Bryce. Dinner passed by happily and after rinsing the dishes and placing them in the dishwasher, Casey sat on the couch with her mom and they watched a movie together. After that, Casey was ready for bed. So she stood up and stretched out her limbs then smiled at her mom.

“I’m going to head to bed now. I’m exhausted after today.”

“Okay honey. Sleep well, see you tomorrow.”

“Night mom.”

“Goodnight Casey.”

--- That Weekend ---

Casey had just finished helping her mom put the groceries away when her phone pinged.

“Oh, mom. I promised Bryce and Sienna that I’d call this weekend. Is it okay if I go up and?”

“Of course. I’ll call you when dinner is ready.”

Thanking her mom and giving her a quick peck on the cheek, Casey ran upstairs to her bedroom and shut her door behind her. She hung her jacket up and put her shoes away before flopping on the bed on her stomach and sent Sienna a quick text.

Casey: Hey! Do you guys mind if I facetime you instead?

Sienna: We’d love that!

Casey: Cool, just give me a moment, I think snowball is outside my door!

She got up and opened her door, snowball walking in and jumping on her bed, making himself comfortable. Casey cuddled with him as she waited for Sienna to answer the call. After a couple of rings she picked up

“Bryce stop being so vein! It’s your hair! Casey isn’t going to care what you look like!”

“But I care what I look like Si!”

“Boys!” Sienna sighed with an eyeroll and Casey chuckled

“Hey there!”

“Casey! Hey!”

Sienna and Casey spoke between themselves whilst they waited for Bryce to stop messing with his hair. It took about 15 minutes but soon Bryce came into view of the camera, looking glum and annoyed.

“Awww, Brycie what’s wrong?” Casey asked.

“Shut up.” He pouted as he crossed his arms.

“You’re cute when you’re mad.”

There was a silence as Casey realized what she said after she had said it, turning beet red and giving a small and awkward cough, looking at snowball who now wanted to leave the room.

“One second guys. Snowball wants out.”

She got up and opened the door letting her dog go, before shutting it again and laying back on her bed. The awkwardness hung in the air for a little longer after Casey returned to her phone, before the slight tension was broke by Sienna’s dad coming up the stairs, calling out to her.

“Sienna sweetie? Are you up here?”

“In my room dad! I’m talking to Casey with Bryce”

“Ah darling. I’m going away on another long drive. I’ll be gone for about a week.”

“A week?!”

“... I know it’s difficult sweetheart but it’s all to help us out hey?”

Sienna sighs before hugging her dad tight and following him downstairs to say goodbye properly. Leaving Bryce and Casey alone for a few moments.

“Bryce?”

“Yeah?”

“Uh... for what it’s worth. Your bad hair day kind of suits you”

“...I- Thanks.”

They smiled at each other as Sienna came back and sat down. She took her phone from Bryce and smiled at Casey.

“Soooo...”

“So?... what?”

“Are you going to tell me more about this boy in your biology class?”

Casey blushed furiously as Sienna spoke in a teasing tone and Bryce tensed up a bit. Almost as if he was sensing competition. He looked at Sienna and then at the screen where Casey was still blushing brightly.

“Is everything okay with your dad Si?”

“Nu-uhh. We are not changing the subject Casey Valentine!”

“I have a question.” Bryce cut in. “Is he better looking than me?”

“What?”

“ooo, Bryce looking for the juicy gossip!”

Casey sighed and picked at her nails. “If you guys really want to know. Yes, he is cute. And kind. And misunderstood most of the time outside of class because of his brooding exterior but.. I’m his lab partner now and I’ve been getting to know him. He’s nice.”

“Ohmygosh” You like him!”

“No! I do not! I mean maybe I can see him being my first friend here on the East Coast... But other than that.. no!”

Casey blushed again and felt a pang of a feeling similar to guilt in her chest as she looked at Bryce’s expression.

“Bryce? Are you okay?” Casey asked, and Sienna turned to him.

“Do you feel alright? You’ve gone awfully pale...”

“I... I’m fine. I just, remembered that I need to run an errand before it gets too dark.” Bryce said and then left abruptly. Sienna and Casey shared a knowing look of sadness and understanding.

“He likes me as more than a friend, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah... It looks that way.”

Casey was about to speak again when she heard her mom calling up the stairs that dinner was ready. Turning back to the screen after calling back a quick okay, and smiled apologetically at Sienna.

“Sorry. I’ve gotta go. Mom just called for dinner.”

“Okay! Speak soon?”

“Definitely. Oh and Si?”

“Yeah?”

“When you see Bryce next, tell him to uh.. give me a call? I’d like to talk with him one on one.”

“Sure thing Case. Miss and love you!”

“Bye Si! Miss and love you too!”

The two girls waved goodbye to each other then hung up the call, and Casey put her phone to charge before heading downstairs. Her mom smiled at her as she entered the kitchen.

“How was the call with Sienna and Bryce.”

“It was good.” Casey sighed.

“Only good?”

“Well... me and Sienna kinda found out Bryce likes me when I told them about the boy in my bio class. He acted jealous and then made up this excuse about an errand before bolting off. It’s not like I’m even interested in the boy in bio that way. I only know his first name and that he’s passionate about bio like I am.”

Casey’s mom sighed and placed her hands around Casey’s.

“Listen. Boys are just as complex as girls. But you’re too young to be having boy drama Casey Valentine.” She booped her daughters nose and ruffled her hair, earning a small giggle from Casey before they dug into their meal.

After that night, the next few weeks went past in a blur. Casey heard from Sienna frequently but never heard a word from Bryce. Not one text or call for ages. Until one day she finally had enough of his avoidance game. She was at lunch by herself, and knowing he would most likely be in class, she dialed her old schools number. The scowl on her face was unmissable but she kept her tone level as possible as she spoke to the receptionist that answered.

“Hello, Greenfield Middle School. How may I help you?”

“Hi. It’s Casey Valentine. I’m a former student. I um. I would like to get a very angry message to Bryce Lahela in Mrs. Smith’s homeroom. Can somebody please tell him he is a big headed bitch with an overinflated ego, and he needs to just talk to me.”

“Woah. Sweetheart. You were a very sweet student here. Are things okay at your new school?”

“Things here are fine. I just want my friend to stop being mad at me just because he thinks I like another boy. I’ve wanted to talk with him about it for weeks now. But he’s ignoring me and it’s starting to effect my grades.”

“Okay well um.. We’ll get that message to him.”

Just then Casey froze as Ethan sat with her, opening his lunch box and pulling out his sandwich.

“Thank you. And um... I am so sorry for the harsh language.”

“It’s okay Casey. Goodbye now.”

“Bye.”

Sighing she hung up and placed her elbows on the table, resting her chin in her hands as she stared straight ahead. Ethan swallowed his food and took a sip of his drink, looking straight at Casey as he done so. He could practically see the gears in her brain working. “Are you okay?” He asked, but Casey was zoned out and could barely hear him. It wasn’t until the bell rang and brought her back to the present moment that she noticed Ethan was still sitting there. Looking at her as if he was studying a plant or something. “What?” she asked, and Ethan simply shrugged, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“I guess I’ll see you in last period.”

“Uhhhh, right.” Casey tried to smile but it didn’t reach her eyes. It seemed pained and forced. She headed to her math class, trying her best to concentrate but her mind kept coming back to Bryce and figuring out he saw her as more than a friend, and somehow it hurt even more that he was ignoring her. Because deep down, she knew she kinda liked him back. She zoned out as she thought about what it would feel like to have his lips press softly against her own. It wasn’t until she heard the teacher shouting her name that she realized how far she had zoned out. Blushing, she snapped her attention back to the front of the class.

“Yes Miss?”

“What’s the answer to question 8c?”

Casey looked down at her text book and read the question, then set a determined look on her face as she turned her gaze back to the teacher at the front of the class. Giving her best smile, she cleared her throat to speak up.

“Of course Miss.The answer is t-“

But she was cut off by another student blurting out the answer. The teacher looking in their direction visibly annoyed.

“Is that what you were going to say Casey?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Pay attention to my class from now on okay?”

Casey gave a nod and the rest of the day dragged by. Even in last period she didn’t smile or engage with the practical properly. Ethan tried getting her to focus, but she just wasn’t in the mood. There was a point where Mr. Nelson had to send another female student to get her from the bathroom. When she returned, she sat in her seat next to Ethan but kept her head down. She had been crying. The one thing she never done at school, because it made her look ‘weak’ and like a perfect target for the popular people because she’s already showing she’s broken. At the end of the day when the school bell rang. She grabbed her bag, stuffing her things inside and rushed out the door and to the bus stop as fast as possible. When her bus arrived she jumped on and secured a seat at the back. Upon getting home, snowball greeted her at the door, but all she could manage to do was stroke his head as she shut the front door before running to her room, shutting the door behind her with a loud bang. Usually she was sad that her mom’s new job finished late, but today she was thankful. She had so many tears left to get out that she just laid on her bed and let them fall. As she was crying her phone rang, “Not the greatest timing Si.” she muttered as she rolled over and fished through her bag to get it out. Her eyebrows raised a little when she saw Bryce’s name across the screen, yet she didn’t answer because she didn’t need him to hear the brokenness in her voice right now. She left it to ring but suddenly this boy was relentless in his attempts at trying to contact her. She knew she should answer, but she just couldn’t. Crying was all she could do right now.

--- In California ---

“Come on pick up. Please pick up.”

Bryce paced in Sienna’s room as he waited for Casey to answer her phone. Sienna was sitting at her desk doing homework, or at least she was trying. Bryce had been pacing for about 5 minutes when she had finally had enough.

“Bryce could you please just sit down.”

“I can’t Sienna. She’s not answering. What if she’s in danger? What if she’s hurt somewhere. What if she’s... with him...” Bryce said, swallowing hard as he spoke his last words.

“Bryce.” Sienna sighed and got to her feet. “I’m sure she’s fine. She’s probably having dinner or time with her mom. You know she’s three hours ahead of us now.”

“I know it’s just..... I really like her Si and I’m scared I’ve lost her to someone else.”

“Well.. Have you thought about the third possibility here?”

“Third possibility?”

“Yeah. That she’s ignoring you to show you how it’s felt for her these past few weeks. She’s usually so bubbly. But every phone call I’ve had with her recently.. she’s sounded deflated and not like the Casey we know and love so much.”

“Oh God. What if I broke her? She probably hates me now! I should never have stormed off like that when- Oh God.”

Bryce sat on Sienna’s bed, his hands now trembling as he dug his fingers into his hair and pulled. A mix of anger, guilt and sadness in his chest. “GODDAMNIT!” he said harshly through clenched teeth. Sienna sat next to him, placing a comforting hand on his back. In that moment he broke too. He let himself fall into Sienna shoulder as he sobbed. He said some words as he sobbed but she couldn’t make them out. Sienna was stroking Bryce’s arm as her bedroom door opened slowly and her mom popped her head in.

“Si? I heard a shout is everything o- Oh! What’s happened?”

“Just some girl trouble.”

“... This is about Casey isn’t it?”

Sienna looked at her mom shocked for a moment before looking at her sorrowfully and giving a small nod. Her mom came into the room and pulled up a chair near Bryce and Sienna.

“Look. I may be old. But I’ve seen the way you look at that girl Bryce. So what’s happened? Did she reject you? Has she got a boyfriend at her new school? What’s up?”

Bryce hiccupped as he tried to calm himself down to speak but it didn’t work. Every time he got ready to speak, emotion overwhelmed him again.

“Casey is sort of crushing on this boy in her bio class. She won’t openly admit it. But what she has admitted is that she likes Bryce back. Only she’s giving him a taste of his own medicine because the last time they spoke, Bryce got jealous when she told us about this boy and stormed off. He hasn’t tried contacting her until tonight when she’s tried reaching out constantly. The only reason he’s snapped back to reality, is because she called the school office today and asked for a message to be passed on.”

“I see. Well, Bryce, maybe just wait it out? She’ll call you back. I’m sure she’s just a mess at the minute and doesn’t want you to hear her broken. I done a similar thing when I was your ages and had the attention of two very attractive boys.”

“Really? Mom, how come you’ve never told me this?!”

“Because I was saving the story. But it’s how I met your father. I fell in love with him and those boys ran home to nurse their wounded egos after being chewed out by your dad for showing me disrespect by fighting over me.”

Bryce sniffled and sat up straight, looking at Sienna’s mom with bright red circles around his eyes. Sienna handed him a tissue.

“Thanks Si.” He blew his nose and cleared his throat before speaking to Sienna’s mom.

“So what you’re saying is, if I want any chance of dating Casey I have to not fight over her with another guy like she’s a prize?”

“Exactly my sweet. Girls hate being treated like they’re some trophy prize in a race. They just want love, loyalty, respect and to get to know you. The real you that’s inside here.” Sienna’s mom patted her chest over her heart with a kind smile as she looked back at Bryce. “Treat her like the beautiful human she is and never lose track of the fact she’s just that. Human. Not a trophy.”

Bryce sniffled again and gave Sienna’s mom a grateful smile and a small nod.

“Thank you, Mrs. Trinh. I’ll remember that.”

“You better. Otherwise I’ll whoop your ass.”

The three laughed together and shared a hug, Sienna’s mom then leaving and heading back downstairs. Bryce looked at Sienna and gave a shy smile, eyeing the shoulder of her shirt.

“Sorry about soaking your shoulder.”

“It’s okay. You feel better now?”

“Much.” He smiled.

“Then I’m doing my job of being a friend well.”

“Are you kidding Si? You’re the best friend a guy like me could ask for!”

“Aw Bryce! You’ve gone all soft!”

Sienna carried on teasing him for a little while before her mom called them for dinner, and they rushed down the stairs. The aroma’s of another amazing homecooked meal hitting their nostrils before they were even half way to the dining room.

--- Back On The East Coast ---

Hours had passed since Casey had gotten in and cried herself to sleep as she waited for her mom to get home. Ignoring phone calls from Bryce. Since then she had been woken up, had dinner and spent some time with her mom. She now sat in her room at her laptop as she watched some videos on the internet. It was late but she couldn’t sleep. Everything was becoming too much. She paused her video and picked up her phone from her desk, taking it off charge. Her hand shook hesitantly over Bryce’s number before just pressing call. Finding herself immediately pacing the length of her room back and forth until he picked up.

“Casey! I uh mean.. Casey. Hey.”

She wanted to giggle at him. Hearing his voice after so long brought a smile to her face and renewed her energy.

“H-hey Bryce.” She spoke shyly down the phone. “Are you okay?”

“Ye- I- ... No. I’m not. I’m not okay at all.”

“Why? What’s wrong? Did you fail your math test again?”

Bryce let out a small chuckle as a soft smile spread itself on his features. She still had a sense of humor like his Casey always had. ... His Casey. He smiled even more at the thought of calling her that.

“...um Bryce? Are you still there? ... Hello?”

He snapped back to reality and cleared his throat.

“Hi. Yes, I’m still here hon- Casey.”

Damn it Bryce. Control yourself, she’s not your girlfriend yet. Casey smiled and continued talking.

“I’ve missed you Bryce.”

“I.. you have?”

“yes. I’ve hated every part of the last few weeks. At first Ethan helped me out a little. But-”

“Ethan?”

“Oh. Right. I never told you guys his name. The boy from my biology class. His name’s Ethan.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“If it helps. He doesn’t do relationships you know. He doesn’t want the distraction and I don’t even think he likes me back. So you have no competition. If that’s what this has been about.” Casey said and she stopped pacing and sat on her bed.

“Competition? I-, Yeah you’re right. I guess I did see him as competition.”

“Well you can relax. Okay Brycie?”

“Heh. I didn’t notice how much I missed you calling me that until now.”

“Sooo. Are we...”

“Yeah. We’re good.”

“Woop!”

Bryce chuckled at Casey, wishing he could hug her. He let out a long sigh, a clear indication that something was wrong, which immediately made Casey frown.

“What’s wrong, Bryce? Seriously. You’ve never sounded so glum.”

“I’ve never gone so long without being able to give you a hug.”

“... Our hugs. They were never just hugs were they?”

“What do you-”

“Bryce, come on. We’re both smart kids. Those hugs were more to you weren’t they?”

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line until Bryce let out another sigh. But this one sounded a little different.

“Yeah... they did. They were um... They were my way of saying that I like you more than you’ll ever know.”

Now it was Casey’s turn to be silent as she processed his words. He sounded so sure. Almost as if he wanted to say a different four letter L word, but wouldn’t. She could understand why. They were still young, how could they know what love actually is? That’s what older generations would say anyway. “You’re only 14, you wouldn’t know the meaning of love if it hit you in the face!” She let out a small laugh at the subtle obscenity of her thoughts, forgetting she was on the phone until she heard Bryce’s hesitant voice again.

“Um, Casey...”

“Ah! Hoooo. Don’t scare me like that!” She whined and Bryce chuckled.

“You zoned out huh?”

“... yeah.”

“Look. When can I see you again. I miss you so much! Sienna does too but-”

“I get it Bryce. You want to hug me again.”

“... yeah. I do.”

“There’s always the summer.”

“But... that’s ages away and I.. Well uh-”

He sounds so shy and different. Maybe his voice has broken a little bit? Casey didn’t know for sure, but his tone did sound a little deeper. They spoke for a little while longer before Casey started yawning, sleep quickly wanting to take over her body.

“Getting tired huh?”

“... mmm, yeah.”

“Then I shall let Sleeping Beauty go and get her Beauty sleep. Even though she looks beautiful with bags under her eyes too.”

“UM. RUDE!”

“Only being truthful...”

They laughed together, the sound genuine and full. Then they said their goodbyes and hung up, both going to bed to get what sleep they could. Glad they had gotten over the bump in their relationship at last.

The months passed by and suddenly spring break had arrived. Casey was waiting out the front of the school for her mom to come and pick her up when a figure stopped beside her. She was watching a video Sienna had sent her of Bryce doing something real goofy, so she didn’t speak or look up to greet whoever it was until the video finished.

“Oh, Ethan. Hi”

“Hey. Uh...”

She could see he was nervous, so she locked and bagged her phone then gave him a friendly smile.

“How can I help? Did I accidently keep your pen again?”

“No. Nothing like that.” He chuckled. Casey froze. It was the first time she had heard him chuckle so genuinely.

“...Oh. so uh, what’s up?”

“This is going to sound so stupid. But um. My dad is going to be working late and I’ve locked myself out of the house. Would it be okay if I uh.. came to yours until he could pick me up? I would ask someone else but you’re actually the only person I consider, a friend.”

Casey looked up as she saw a car, her mom smiled and waved at her through the window. Casey smiled and waved back, then turned her attention back to Ethan.

“Let me just ask my mom. It should be okay, but I wouldn’t want to do anything wrong.”

“Yeah. Sure.” He smiled at her and she walked to the car, opening the trunk and throwing her bag in before opening the passenger side door, sticking her head in.

“Hey mom? Ethan’s locked himself out of his house. Could he come home with us until his dad can pick him up later?”

“Sure honey.”

“Thanks mom.”

She stood up straight and called out to him, he walked over and got in the back as Casey secured her front seat and turned on the radio, singing along to the pop songs all the way home. When they got inside, snowball raced towards Casey almost knocking her over.

“Hey boy!” she exclaimed as she crouched down and ruffled his furry coat as he licked her face. “Oh! I’ve missed you too buddy! Did you have a good day?”

Snowball woofed excitedly and Casey grinned back, pretending to understand, talking back in between each woof. Her mom made her way to the kitchen as Ethan stood by the now closed door awkwardly.

“An adventure?! Into space? ... No way! You’ll have to take me next time. I’d love to see your rocket ship!” She giggled as snowball jumped on her, giving her a hug before walking off to find Casey’s mom. She stood up and turned to Ethan, still smiling.

“Is that-?”

“That’s snowball yeah.”

“He seems very.... Energetic.”

Casey threw her head back a little as she laughed and nodded. “He is. But he’s such a lovely dog.”

She was about to suggest going upstairs when Ethan’s stomach interrupted the unspoken thought as it grumbled loudly.

“Would you like a snack? We have plenty of supplies.”

“Oh. No. I couldn’t take your food. I’m only taking shelter here until I can go home.”

At that moment Ethan’s phone pinged. His face fell as he read the message.

“Ethan.. what is it?”

“My dad.. He um. Won’t be able to get me until the morning. Where am I going to go now?”

“You can stay in our guest room. Or we could have a sleepover in the living room.”

“A sleepover? That’s ridiculous.” He said, trying to hide the tiny smile that was creeping onto his features. He didn’t want to admit he actually liked the idea.

“It’s not. Look, let’s ask mom if you can stay the night and then we can decide on sleeping arrangements.” Casey went to the kitchen in search of her mom.

“Mom?!”

“In here honey pie!”

She followed the sound to the living room and sat next to her mom on the couch, looking at her with a smile.

“What’s up?”

“Could Ethan stay tonight? His dad can’t pick him up until the morning now.”

“Oh honey, of course! We can’t just throw him onto the streets!”

“Thanks mom. If we wanted to. Would it be okay to sleep in here?”

Her mom gave her a smile and squeezed her arm gently. “Of course.”

She hugged her mom and returned to Ethan, a light bouncy energy about her as she smiled from ear to ear. “It’s okay for you to stay. Now let’s get you something to eat.” She said, grabbing his wrist and pulling him to the kitchen as she ignored his protests. “What would you like? Something sweet? Savory?” She turned to him as she closed a cupboard.

“C-could I have a grilled cheese?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

Casey grabbed the bread and made two grilled cheese sandwiches then handed Ethan his.

“Let’s go upstairs!”

“Um. Okay.”

Ethan followed her hesitantly and they enter her room, Casey closing the door behind him.

“Um shouldn’t you-?”

“What? Leave it open? No. My mom trusts me and besides even if we were older, we’re just friends. We wouldn’t be engaging in that kind of activity.” She sat on her bed and patted the spot next to her, gesturing for Ethan to sit down. He hesitated then sat on the floor. Casey gave him a look, but he just shrugged. They ate their food then Casey took the plates to the kitchen and washed them up before returning to her room and climbing back on her bed.

“Are you seriously studying right now?”

“Yes. Studying is imperative if you want good grades and I want good grades so..”

“You can be such a killjoy Ethan.”

He wished he had a witty comment ready to fire at her, but he didn’t so he just smiled before going back to his book. Casey was flipping through TV channels when her phone rang. She looked at the screen and smiled before answering it. Normally she would put it to her ear, but it was a facetime call, so she held it in the air, earning a weird look from Ethan as she pressed accept.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why are you looking at me like that?”

“I-”

“Casey?” someone said on the call

She shook her head and then smiled at the screen.

“Hey Sienna!”

“Am I still a ghost to you on these things?” Bryce joked as he poked his head in the corner of the screen.

“No Bryce. You’re not. But, if you aren’t on screen when I look, I’m always going to assume that Si is alone.”

Bryce rolled his eyes good naturedly then disappeared again.

“Where are you guys anyway?”

“We’re in Target. We’re choosing snacks for the picnic tomorrow.”

“You guys better not have too much fun without me.”

“How could we? You and Bryce together were the fun.”

“Which means.” Bryce said as he came back into view, arms full of chips and other delicious looking snacks. “We will only ever have half the fun whilst you’re gone.”

Casey smiled at that. She was so thankful for them. Most people would have given up contact like this by now if their friend had moved as far away from them as Casey had from Sienna and Bryce. But almost every day like clockwork, there they were. Calling her, facetiming, being there with jokes and ready to help her study when she needed it. Their bond and friendship was pure and true. It just felt right. Bryce and Casey didn’t know if they were going to try at being more than just friends, but they knew they seriously liked each other, and it showed. In the past few weeks, they had gotten comfortable with sharing light hearted flirty jokes. She was talking to them about what she was probably going to be doing over spring break without them when Ethan waved to get her attention.

“One second guys.”

She kept the camera on herself and looked at Ethan.

“What’s up?”

“I can’t figure out the answer to this math question. Could you help quick?” Ethan asked

Casey smiled and moved from her bed next to Ethan on the floor. Looking at the question.

She looked at the equation but the longer she looked the more stumped she started to feel. She read the full question over and over but the equation that needed to be answered left her at a loss for thought, let alone a loss for words.

“I... I don’t know.”

“Ugh. This is stupid!” Ethan exclaimed and slammed the book shut, taking off his glasses and rubbing his hands over his face.

“Well why don’t you put the books away and come say hi to my friends from my old school?”

“Because they’re exactly that. You’re friends. I don’t do friendships. Well... unless it’s you. Everyone else at school is dumb.”

Casey chuckled at him and shook her head. She’d forgotten her phone was angled at her, meaning Sienna and Bryce could probably see him anyway.

“Is that Ethan?” Sienna said, their attention snapped to Casey’s phone to find Sienna smiling at them. Bryce was doing his best to look friendly, but Casey could see he was kinda jealous that she had another guy friend. Casey smiled at the screen and ruffled Ethan’s hair as she nodded. He scowled at her but she just grinned, it took him a while, but he clicked.

“You done that on purpose!” he exclaimed

“Yup. This is Ethan. The least approachable 14 year old you’ll ever know.”

“I am not unapproachable.”

“Are to.”

“Then why do you approach me?”

“I don’t. If I remember correctly, you’re the one who seeks me out a lunch sometimes. And if we’re ever in the same hall. You come to me.”

“Well yeah. Because we have biology together. If you don’t want a walking partner, I’ll stop.”

“Uh-huh.” She gave him a knowing look and the four carried on talking for another hour before Casey had to hang up and put her phone on charge. They moved to Casey’s bed and put on some medical TV show Ethan liked. He was super engrossed, but Casey felt tired and didn’t want her eyes to strain more than necessary so rolled on her side, facing away from Ethan and closed her eyes. She must have fallen asleep because the next thing she knew her mom was standing in her doorway, calling her name.

“Casey. Casey!”

Casey jolted awake but didn’t sit up fast enough, and ended up rolling off the bed. As she landed the was a yelp of pain and Ethan lent over to look down at her.

“Are you okay?”

“I hit my head.”

“Here.” Ethan held his hand out and helped her up. She laid back on her bed, tears stinging her eyes.

“I’m sorry poppet. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Her mom said, coming in and sitting on the edge of the bed. “I only came to ask what you kids would like for dinner. I’m ordering Indian.”

“Same as always please mom. Chicken Korma, rice and naan. Also extra poppadum’s for snacking on later.”

Ethan looked at her with his mouth agape.

“You do that too?”

“Do what?” Casey asked

“Get poppadum’s for snacking on.”

“Yeah. Why?”

“I do that. I thought I was alone.”

“You’re never really alone.”

He smiled before giving Casey’s mom his order and she left to order it. When it arrived they sat around the dining table talking about school, how work went for Casey’s mom, and Ethan told them a bit about what it was like for him growing up on the east coast so far. After dinner, Casey and Ethan moved sleeping supplies to the living room. Casey told spooky stories, and Ethan tried his best to keep a stoic expression at all of them, though internally, he admitted to himself that some of them were scaring the shit out of him.

After that night, Casey and Ethan were inseparable. They done almost everything together. If he wasn’t at Casey’s house to study after school, they were at his. They had started hanging out every lunchtime and despite the weird looks everyone gave them, they smiled and laughed as they carried on with their conversations. When summer break came round, Ethan was at Casey’s to say goodbye as she was going back to California to see Bryce and Sienna for 3 weeks. They were some of the most boring weeks he had experienced in a while. He didn’t notice how happy he was to have her as a friend until she had left. When she came back, she stopped at his house to give him a gift and say hi. Soon the months had turned into years and they were in the last stretch of their senior year. Ethan developed feelings of attraction to Casey as they got older, but had to restrain himself from taking action on them, because on her 15th birthday, she started a relationship with Bryce. They were happy together despite the hardships the distance brought them. They made an effort to see each other in person as much as they could. But by halfway through senior year, Bryce wasn’t feeling as enthusiastic about things as he had been. One day he called Casey. She answered happily but by the end of the call, she couldn’t focus on anything. She laid in the middle of her bed, cuddling a pillow as tears stung her eyes, her heart continued to shatter, and his words echoed in her head.

“Casey... I don’t think this is going to work much longer. We either need to be just friends or just go our own ways.”

She was broken. She really loved Bryce, and he loved her back. At least that’s what she thought. But after that call, doubt after doubt came into her mind. Her tears were hot and stung her eyes. She didn’t leave her room that night and the next few days she completely skipped school. She couldn’t see anyone, and she didn’t want anyone to see her. How could Bryce do this to her? She wanted so badly to ask Sienna if he’d been acting differently at all, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Instead, she ignored every message and incoming call she got. The furthest she moved was to use the toilet or get a drink. She hated what she was feeling. She cried, day and night all alone in her room until finally one night when she was in the middle of what felt like her millionth time crying, her door creaked open and a head popped in.

“I’m fine mom. I’ll go back to school Monday, just like I promised.”

“Casey... I’m not your mother.”

She looked at the door and saw Ethan standing there, he had pushed the door wide open and was holding a bag.

“What’s in the bag.”

“Everything needed to help you feel better.”

“I’m not going to feel better Ethan. I’m broken. No tape, bandage, glue or amount of chocolate is going to fix me. I loved.. no I love him.”

Ethan sighed. He’d been talking with Sienna through Pictagram DM’s, and the two were sharing mutual feelings of disgust and horror at the videos and pictures taken secretly that Sienna was sending. He didn’t love Casey anymore. If he ever did at all. He was acting like the perfect stereotypical jock. He’d dumped Casey and gotten together with the bleach blonde barbie looking cheerleader. It was so cliché that it made Ethan sick. She didn’t deserve this kind of treatment. Bryce had sworn to Ethan he would never break Casey’s heart. Yet here she was, in bed, skipping school and looking more disheveled than a well-used mop, crying over a boy who broke her heart and no longer loved her back. Ethan stepped in the room and closed the door, walking over and sitting on her bed next to her.

“You’re right. You’re not going to feel better with just chocolates, a hug or two and cheesy rom-com movies. Not even trash talking him is going to help you fully heal from the pain you’re feeling. But I’m here for you Casey. Always have been. Always will be. Sienna too. She’s planning to come and see you as soon as possible.”

Casey brought her gaze to Ethan’s face and his heart panged in his chest at how red and swollen her eyes were. He controlled the rage he felt inside towards Bryce and smiled at her kindly, she couldn’t manage a smile back, but she did sit up and crawl into his lap. This is what she had needed, hugs from her best friend on the east coast. She had gotten a few from her mom, though they didn’t feel as comfortable as Ethan’s did. He grabbed her blanket and wrapped it round her shoulders before continuing the hug. He didn’t know how he was going to do it, but he had just given himself the job of fixing a broken heart.

Monday came quicker than Casey would have liked. She pulled herself out of bed and got ready for school, practicing her game face in the mirror but there was no point. She was sad. The kind of sad you can’t hide no matter how much you smile, scowl or keep a neutral expression. Sighing, she grabbed her bag and headed downstairs, opening the front door to head out only to be met with a smiling Ethan.

“Ready?” he asked as she looked at him perplexed

“No.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

He grabbed her hand and together they walked to school. He would have linked their arms but that felt too joyous. It was something they done as they walked along happily before breaking out into a skip. And there was no way he was going to let her stubbornness make them late. Holding her hand felt like the only option left, though as they neared the front of the school, Ethan acted as though he was dragging Casey behind him.

“I really don’t want to be here.” She whined.

Perfect. She was helping his case and unintentionally too. There wouldn’t be gossip and rumors today surrounding Ethan and Casey’s relationship status with each other. The day was tough. Everyone was asking where she had been, if it was true she’d been dumped and if she was with Ethan now or still single. Ethan fielded all the questions like he was her personal press secretary, and protected her like her bodyguard all day. They were sitting together at lunch when a familiar looking bleach blonde caught Ethan’s eye. Halting his conversation with Casey briefly, he looked at his phone. He went onto his messages with Sienna, silently cursing under his breath when his suspicions were ultimately confirmed. He thought she went to the same school as Bryce. He was typing out a message when he heard Casey scoff loudly.

“Ugh. What is she doing here?”

“Who?” Ethan asked, stopping typing for a minute and looking up from his phone.

“Melissia Haywood. I thought I got rid of her when I left Cali.”

“You.. know her?”

“Yeah. She’s the reason I moved here. She bullied me the whole way through school, until one day, I couldn’t take it anymore and made a scene until mom agreed to let me move.”

“Uh.. then I guess you should h-” he was cut off by Melissia’s voice as she stopped in front of Casey “hear it from me.” he mumbled but Casey didn’t hear him finish speaking over the volume of the other girls voice.

“Casey!” she shrilled

“What do you want?” Casey said monotonously as she took a sip of her water.

“Well I came here to say thank you.”

“To whom?”

“To you of course. Silly.”

“Why me?”

“Because you dumped Bryce so he could be happy with me. Finally!”

In that moment everything and everyone else froze around her as she zeroed in on Melissia’s smug face. Every emotion that had started to even out, came flooding back with full force, only this time it felt 100 times more painful. Bryce had dumped her for Melissia? Why the fuck would he do that? He knew what she had done to Casey. He was even there most times to help her back on her feet again. Now he had dumped her and gotten together in a relationship with the bleach blonde whore. She rose to her feet and tackled Melissia to the floor. Punching, kicking, spitting, hair pulling. Anything she could do to hurt Melissia. A crowd was around them instantly, cheering Casey on when they saw that she had the clear advantage. Ethan tried pulling Casey off Melissia, but her legs were hooked around the girl beneath her tight. He got her off finally with the help of a teacher and took her inside to their classroom.

Back in the courtyard Melissia was laying on the ground, bloody, her hair a mess and some bruises already forming on her skin. Teachers worked to disperse the crowd and get them to classrooms. Casey sat in the classroom fuming. You could almost see the steam coming from her ears. Ethan wanted to hug her, but he didn’t want his contact to be unwanted.

“Do you need a hug?”

“No, Ethan. I don’t. I need to punch that whores face in until she can no longer see and needs a thousand surgeries to reconstruct it!”

“Why don’t I just get you a punching bag instead?”

“Is it going to be her face?”

“No... Not exactly. But we could stick a picture of her face on it.”

The anger now left her body and was replaced by hurt as she started crying. Yeah, she needed that hug now. Ethan opened his arms and she ran into them. Locking her hands round his torso and sobbing loudly into his chest.

“WHHYYYYYYYY. WHY WOULD HE DO THIS TO MEEEE?” she cried loudly, gripping onto his jacket tightly. Ethan wanted to tell her it was okay, that everything was going to be fine. But he knew that wouldn’t help Casey right now. All he could do was rub her back soothingly and whisper “I’m here” as they waited for someone to come and get them. They sat waiting and Casey’s cries eventually subsided into hiccups. The room was quiet but then her phone rang. She’d know the number anywhere, it was Bryce. The first time he’d called in a while, but she just ignored it. “Who is it?” Ethan asked when it just kept ringing. “Him.” She snarled, arms crossed and still ignoring the call, but Ethan picked up.

“Casey what the FUCK were yo-”

“No. You listen here you heartbreaking piece of scum! Casey had every right to do what she just done. Do you know how many nights she’s spent crying. Not just to sleep. But EVERY. FUCKING. HOUR. Of the day. Do you know how hurt she is but still can’t bring herself to throw away her Christmas sweater that matched yours. Do you even care that you’ve broken her to the point where she saw that violence was the answer?! Let me answer that for you Bryce Lahela. No. You don’t. because if you did you wouldn’t have broken up with her. You would have loved her for who she is. Like you did in the beginning and your feelings for her would never had changed. But now you’re at the age where all that matters is sex and drinking and partying until late. You no longer care about Casey do you? ... DO YOU!”

“I-”

“You know that Casey doesn’t want to do any of that yet. You know. And instead of respecting that and loving her.. you’d rather break her and date a whore. So have a great life with Melissia, Bryce. Because once she’s done having her fun with you. Cheats and walks out the door. Casey is not going to be there to take you back. Because I won’t let her make that mistake again. So lose this number. Unfollow her accounts. And never, I mean never, bother her again.”

Ethan didn’t even wait for a reply, he just angrily hung up the phone and placed it back on the table. Fury was blazing in his eyes, and for the first time Casey saw it. He was doing this because he loved her. She was in no shape to be jumping into another relationship right now, but she sat staring at him thinking that maybe, one day. Maybe she could ask Ethan to go on a date.

After the incident, the rest of school passed by in a blur and soon they had graduated. It was hard for Casey, but Ethan was there everyday with whatever it was she needed. Hugs, pizza rolls, trash talking sessions, help with catching up or homework. And it all paid off when they stood on their school field in their graduation gowns and caps. That night Ethan and his dad were at Casey’s for dinner. The mood was bright and cheerful, Ethan smiled at Casey as she was smiling her first genuine smile in months.

“I can’t believe I done it!” she exclaimed as she gave her mom a hug.

“I can. I always believed you would.” Ethan smiled.

“Aw, thanks.” Casey blushed.

“So, what are you kiddo’s doing during your gap year?” Ethan’s dad asked

“Well, we done a lot of talking and deciding and then rethinking that decision. But.. we’ve decided to go backpacking around Europe.” Casey explained as she looked at Ethan who nodded enthusiastically.

“We still want to be doctors, but we thought that a break would be good to reset the mood. And give Casey time to heal as best as she can from what’s happened.”

Casey’s mom smiled at the two. “Promise me you’ll look after my little girl.”

“Of course, Ms. Valentine, I’ll always look after her. For the rest of her life. She’s stuck with me, whether she likes it or not.” Casey scrunched up her nose as Ethan ruffled her hair with a low chuckle.

“Get oooofffff.” She whined as she pushed his arm away.

They all enjoyed a buffet style dinner that night and Ethan said goodbye to his dad, deciding to stay the night with Casey in the living room. After they had showered and gotten ready for bed, They settled down on the inflatable air beds and Casey laughed.

“What?”

“Nothing. I’m just remembering the first night we done this. You seemed so uneasy, but now look at you. Asking to stay the night and saying goodbye to your dad like a big boy.”

“I am a big boy Case. I just graduated senior year, in case you didn’t notice.”

The two laughed together as the TV spoke quietly in the background. The laughing subsided and they looked at each other. There was something dancing in Ethan’s eyes. It almost seemed as though he had a question, but was afraid to ask it.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Casey asked

“Hrm?” Ethan hummed, turning his attention back to Casey

“You look troubled.”

Ethan sighed heavily. “I just keep thinking about how I wish you didn’t have to go through something so scummy. And how I wish I knew how long it was going to take for the healing process to work because I just..”

“You, what?... Ethan.”

“I want to take you on a date. I wish I could just ask you to be my girlfriend because I want to love you so bad.”

“Ethan, I...”

“No. It’s okay. I just needed to say how I feel.”

“How about tomorrow?”

“What?”

“A date. Tomorrow. Me, you, something lowkey.”

“...Seriously? Are you being serious?” Ethan smiled brightly as he sat up looking at Casey.

“Yeah. After all. You’ve been doing a great job at fixing my broken heart, I wouldn’t want you to stop and.... I sort of like you too.”

Ethan let out a little scream and rolled onto the floor, crawling over to Casey and hugging her.

“You have no idea how happy I feel right now.”

“I may not. But I can see it on your face.”

“Can I give you a kiss?”

Casey thought for a moment. Was she ready for something like that again? After a while she came to a conclusion.

“Sure. But just a peck.”

Ethan smiled at her and pecked her lips. “You don’t have to say it yet Case, but I love you, and I’m never going to stop fixing your broken heart. Even when it’s not broken anymore.”

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