#what to me are the pretty boring sunday mornings of my childhood | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thecapricunt1616 · 1 day

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Gardenia (c.b. one-shot)

♡ O/S Inspo: Promoting peace/repelling strife, protection from outside influences. Carry or wear to attract love or friendship. Burn with other healing herbs to bring peace and comfort to one who is ailing. Use dried flowers in healing incenses and mixtures. Scatter around a room to bring peaceful vibrations. ♡ Summary: You & Carmy meet at the thrift store you work, He takes you out for a cute date!! ♡ W/C: 2.0K+ ♡ Posted Date: 05/27/2024 ♡ A/N: Hello! Happy day 2/7 of the Capri 200 Follower Celebration Extravaganza!!! You can find said extravaganza ♡ Here ♡ this celebration will be going until next Sunday (06/02/24) so get your requests in! This request is based on ♡ This ♡ adorable ask from my beautiful little cow, @aestheticaltcow - I love you OOMF! You always are liking / reblogging & supporting my work. I love you to the moon! Thank you for all your support, I hope this is what you were thinking & that you enjoy!!! ♡ Warnings for BTC: None really! Fluff, Fem reader, No use of y/n (Reader goes by 'Bunny'), No use of physical descrip (pics are just vibes!) , Not very edited, Usual TB trigger warnings

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡

You were a manager at a thrift store on the north side of Chicago. Your job was fairly boring, sorting clothes and pricing them, as well as tagging them and putting them away. Helping train new employees, working opening and closing shifts. That was until the Blondie with the piercing blue eyes and the oh so sexy nose started coming in every Sunday morning, usually right after you opened.

He’d be holding a black coffee, from the coffee shop right across the way, and always head over to the men’s denim section. This was the fifth Sunday in a row he’d come in, and you couldn’t help but realize the way he checked you out whenever you checked him out, literally - and he had caught your eye so hard you looked at the credit card receipt to see his name.

You couldn’t find him on Instagram, or Facebook - so you figured either he was a super sexy serial killer, or goes by something else online - because who the fuck doesn’t have social media even to lurk?!

But even with his incessant staring he for sure didn’t realize you noticed, and his clockwork of coming in when you specifically were on Sundays - he still hadn’t asked you out. You figured he was shy- well knew it because any time you tried to strike up conversation with him the guy would go pink as a pig and giggle nervously. So you were going to give him an in.

“Hey there!” You said as you approached the isle, jeans in hand. When these had come in, they immediately caught your eye. 32 34’s. His size, vintage Levi’s - they looked to be about mid to late 80s by the patch and the wear - right up his alley for what he came in for.

His head popped up, brows raising slightly “morning” he replied, large hand wrapped nearly all the way around his iced coffee. God- he was so pretty up close.

“Good morning! So- not to be a freak but, these came in a few days ago, and I was thinkin’ T’myself ‘hey! I know a guy who comes in for 32 34 Levi’s every Sunday! I’ll see if he’s interested’ “ you giggle a bit, holding them out.

“You- wow those actually look sick” he took them, setting his coffee on the top rack and holding them out to see them. “Shit these are perfect. Thank you- really uh…sorry I never asked your name?” His cheeks were on fire. It was really cute though how flustered he got, he folded them, holding them over the inside of his arm and grabbing his cup again.

“Oh! Everyone calls me Bunny! Childhood thing. Can’t remember last time used my real name” you giggled a bit “and you are?” You extend your hand to him to shake.

He takes your hand with his tattooed one, shaking it gently. His hands were calloused, scarred, big, could probably reach spots inside of you that you could n- focus!

“But yeah so that’s uh cool. Never met another animal named person” he chuckled a bit, and you realized that you didn’t hear anything he said. But you couldn’t just say oh! Could you repeat I totally blacked out thinking about your fingers in my pussy! So you settled for a

“Totally! It’s the cool kids club for real. Anyway, nice to meet you Carmen” you nod

“Oh- shit sorry I didn’t - you can call me Carmy I - I prefer it actually” he said and you wanted to smack yourself

“I’m sorry- uh, Carmy. I’ll let you get back to it” you said and he looked like he wanted to say something else so you stayed for a moment, looking at eachother.

“Ok so - I know you’re working and I- I respect that so tell me to go fuck myself and I will absolutely never come back but uh- would you maybe… like- wanna go out f’coffee? Sometime? Like - like I said I totally get it if-“

“I’d love to. Gimme a time and place and I’m there” you smiled and he looked a little…suprised?

“Tomorrow? Place cross the street? Is 9:30 too early?” He asked and you shook your head.

“Sounds perfect, it’s a date”

9:30 am the following morning couldn’t come fast enough. That shift seemed to draaag after he’d left. As soon as you got up, you jumped in the shower, shaving every bit you had before slathering on your favorite smelling lotion.

You decided to wear your hair naturally, so you blew it out and didn’t use any other heat on it. Your makeup was light, and you picked a not too dressy but not too casual outfit to go with it. You felt pretty, and you knew for a fact you looked even better.

You spritz on a bit of your favorite perfume before heading out the door, a happy pep in your step at this mornings activities. You got to the coffee shop right on time, and see Carmy looking at his phone, sunglasses that were usually used as a headband in the store to keep his messy blonde curls from in front of his eyes were perched atop his nose.

“Feels weird seein’ you on a Monday” you teased, gently touching his muscular arm and giving it a friendly squeeze. He looked up and smiled a bit

“Right? Feels weird bein here on a Monday. Sundays’re my errand days” he joked back “it’s good t’see you, Bunny.” He said and you nodded

“You too! I’m ready for my morning caffeine not sure about you” you said and he grabbed the door for you

“ absolutely, after you” he pushed his sunglasses up how he usually did, following in behind you.

“Why thank you Carmy, how gentlemanly” you head up to the line with him.

“Of course- gotta do this thing right eh’?” He looked up at the board with a small smile.

“Don’t indulge me, Carmy, you’re getting a black coffee” you teased knowing that was all he drank, at least from what you saw at the store when he came in.

He chuckled, looking over at you “am I? How’d you know I wasn’t feelin’ brave t’day, huh?” He chides with a grin

“Ohh so brave what a big brave boy mixing up your coffee order huh?” You mused, stepping up to the counter

“Good morning! What can we get started for you today?” The barista asked and Carmy extended his hand to let you know you could go first

“Oh! Thanks, uhh ok soo- hmmm…” you look at the board for a few moments. “A large lavender iced matcha please and a blueberry scone.” You said and they nodded,

“And for you sir? Sorry will this be together?” They ask

“Yes- I’ll have what she’s having and that’s it.” Carmy took his card out, holding it over the reader and it beeps, accepting his payment.

“Alright! Thank you, you can wait at the end there it’ll be right out” they said and you look over, smiling bright. That was especially nice, for you at least. The last time you went out with a guy, he expected you to pay for you both. So, to say the least it felt nice to be taken care of, even if it was just a stupid little coffee.

You walked to the end of the counter, standing side by side as you wait “thank you. That was very polite of you” you told him, and his cheeks go that delicious adorable shade of pink that trickles down his neck and he shrugs a bit

“S’nothin. So uh- how long you been workin’ at the thrift?” He asked, grabbing a few napkins and straws for when your drinks came out. You watched his tattooed hands, your stomach doing those flips and rushes of heat flooding your core

“Oh- yeah uh..3 years? Ish? I realized I never asked, what do you do f’r work?” You asked, playing with the sleeve of your shirt with your fingers that never stopped moving. He seemed the same, rolling paper covered straws between his fingers or constantly tapping on his coffee cup in a random rhythm.

“Oh- shit yeah sorry I’m a chef. Sorry I never said anything but uh- yeah. The beef, well, the bear were kinda in the middle of renovating right now and changing our look.” He said and your mouth falls

“The beef?! Holy shit! Been goin there f’years!! Since I came back to Chicago!! Fire sandwiches. So you’re sayin’ no more beef sandwiches?! Dude I didn’t even get one before I found out you were closin’!” You said and the barista came over, setting your bags and drinks in front of you

“Have a great one guys!” They said and headed back to their station. We thanked them and headed back outside where there was little tables and chairs you could sit, and of course his sunglasses were right back over his eyes as soon as we got outside.

“What if I told you- I could make you one an’ bring it to you whenever you want?” He set down the bags of scones he’d carried for you, one in front of both of you before handing you a straw for your drink.

“I’d say you’re an angel sent from god, because those sandwiches are somethin else” you took the scone out of the bag and had a bite, moaning softly at the taste and sitting back “ugh fuck I love scones” you said and he chuckled a bit, having a bite of his own.

“These uh- actually are more muffin by recipe. Scones would be way dryer, but these sell better in the states” he took another bite. You hum, mixing up your drink before having a sip.

“Oh yeah? Hit me with another chef fact mister brave is this real matcha or whatever or the fake shit?” You hummed. It all tasted the same to you, but you wondered if he’d really have an answer.

“Mm” he hummed and opened his straw, mixing it before taking a sip. He scrunched his nose a bit “fake, and the lavender is fake which- I mean is kind of pitiful because lavander syrup is easy as fuck to make and not even expensive” he said and mixed it up even more, hoping that helped the flavor and had another hip, shivering slightly at the sugar which made you laugh.

“You like that?” He asked and you laughed, the kind of laugh that made your eyes crinkle just by the pure look of icky written on his features.

“You make fun of a girl for her morning beverage choices on a first date?” You asked and he put his hands up in defense

“Woah. Woah I said hang out i didn’t say date” he teased, causing you to laugh even more

“Am I seeing right now why you’re single?” You joked and he caught the giggles this time, and you wish you could see the way his eyes crinkled up beneath his sunglasses.

The rest of the meal was spent laughing, and making pleasant conversation. You spoke about where you were both from, what schools you went to, you’d learned apparently he studied abroad for being a chef which was crazy because you didn’t even know people studied abroad for simply making food but you guessed it was pretty serious by the way that he spoke about it.

Apparently the beef had been in his family and was handed down to him recently, so he decided to do something different with it and revamp the whole thing into the bear that would be opening in 2 months. You’d say there talking for about 2 hours, until he got a call about said restaurant and had to head out.

“Really, Bunny. This was…really great. I haven’t been able to like- it doesn’t matter. But…thank you, we should do this again if you’re down” he said and you smiled.

“How ‘bout next Sunday, but before the store opens - 7:30 too early for you?” you repeated his words playfully from when he asked you out.

“Nothin w' you is too early f’me, y'got y’self a date”

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sainamoonshine · 1 year

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Buckwild hearing non-catholics talk about The Locked Tomb and pointing at various things like « ah, this is a reference to the quaint catholic ritual of (completely normal-ass thing I thought everyone else did) »

Like wdym you guys don’t do communion in your churches??? You DON’T worship Mary?? The pope isn’t your top guy? Whu— what do y’all even DO during mass????

#the locked tomb #catholiscism #yall have boring normie religions and you act like full clowns when you go on and on about the mystical rituals of #what to me are the pretty boring sunday mornings of my childhood #catholicism is a couple of hours of adhd-hell and then the short excitement of getting up and queuing up for a piece of cardboard-bread #and then lapsing in the religion but still cuping my hands like I’m about to receive eucharist out of sheer habit #during the pandemic when people were at the door of shops dispensing hand sanitizer #also funny interactions at conventions when someone says May The Force Be With You #and every catholic in the vicinity mumbles out andwithyourspirit #anyway the more I learn abt the other branches of christianity the more I am shocked and confused #where is the religion in your religion bro

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hikarry · 1 month

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Since I didn't communicate clearly earlier:

2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 39

Oh, God lord, Sam

Okay, yes, yes, sure

Just, be prepared for a long post I guess then. Ill skip the ones I already answered

2. show us a picture of your handwriting?

3. 3 films you could watch for the rest of your life and not get bored of?

The Imitation Game, The Muppet Christmas Carol and Corpse Bride

4. what’s an inside joke you have with your family or friends?

Ah...a evil version of "You've got a friend in me" from Toy Story with one of my friends

5. what made you start your blog?

Honestly? No idea. Technically I've been here since 2014 and I kinda just joined to see pretty pics in the beginning. And now here we are, neck deep in the Good Omens fandom

6. what’s the best and worst part of being online/a creator?

The best is honestly the interaction. You guys really have no idea how nice the Good Omens fandom is. I used to be a "creator" for the Yuri on Ice fandom and it didn't used to be half of this. It's very exciting.

The worst? Maybe the pressure to post new stuff? Which is not exactly no one's fault but mine, but alas

7. what scares you the most and why?

Ah. Dying in pain? I don't like pain and I don't appreciate dying so, yeah. Kinda logic

8. any reacquiring dreams?

I don't think so?

9. tell a story about your childhood

We went to the beach this one time and I, for some reasons, made friends with this one guy I never saw again in my life. Somehow he caught a big ass fish (or big in toddler scale) and gave it to me and my first reaction was toss it back into the ocean. It was a magnificent throw, lemme tell ya. For a 3 year old, anyway

10. would you say you’re an emotional person?

It depends on how mentally stable I am and who I am with. But yes, overall, I would say so

11. what do you consider to be romance?

Small things, like sleeping cuddling, cooking together, drinking coffee together at the window in a sunday morning, kissing in the rain. My idea of romance is very...fairytale-y. And not realistic. That's why I am very very good by myself

12. what’s some good advice you want to share?

Don't look for yourself in other people. You're good enough to make yourself happy. You don't need anyone else so don't think you do. Other people are a bonus, not a requirement

13. what are you doing right now?

Answering this long ass thing thanks to you, Sam

14. what’s something you’ve always wanted to do but maybe been to scared to do?

Piercings. I've conquered my fear of tattoos and piercing are next, write what I'm telling you

15. what do you think of when you hear the word “home”?

My grandma's house

16. if you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

Physically? My weight. Because I've been fighting it ever since I was like 4 and so I could go under surgery and change my chest.

In general? Just...I would like to be more simple. I feel like other people in the world are way simpler than I am. Think and feel in a simpler way. Or I'm too complicated, depends on how you want to see it. I would like to feel simple

18. do you believe in ghosts and/or aliens?

No, to both. If I allowed myself to believe in any of those I would become way too paranoid and that's a no no

19. favourite thing about the day?

Getting home after a long day

20. favourite things about the night?

Actually getting to sleep properly, which is being an impossibility at the moment

21. are you a spiritual person?

No. I don't believe in any god or religion or entity. I max believe that the universe has my back and everything will work out somehow. But that's it

22. say 3 things about someone you love

My grandma is an amazing cook. I love her snuggles. I miss her every day

23. say 3 things about someone you hate

My uncle was assaulted last week, aparently. Not to be mean, but he could have died. I wish he had died

24. what’s one thing you’re proud of yourself for?

Not having killed myself when I really really wanted to. Living is super nice and I enjoy it quite a lot

25. fave season and why?

Autumn. Because it's when I was born and it's spooky season! And hella cozy! I love cozy!

26. fave colour and why?

Blue. Because it feels calming and reminds me of the ocean and/or water in general

27. any nicknames?

My friends used to call me "Mouse" when I was in school. It was an inside joke

28. do you collect anything?

I collect books and military jackets

30. what’s one thing that never fails to make you happy/happier?

Honestly? Without being sappy, you guys. Every time I'm having a shit day and I come here to complain y'all manage to cheer me up. It's very sweet and I thank you very much

31. are you messy or organised?

I am proudly organized in my messiness

32. how many tabs do you have open right now?

On pc? 4

On the phone? 48. 47 of those are fanfics

33. any hobbies?

Mainly reading and writing. I don't have time for much else

34. any pet peeves?

When people are slow. Not only walking, but in general: thinking, moving. It annoys the shit out of me

35. do you trust easily?

Oh no. Not at all. I think the only people I currently trust are my grandma and my therapist. And one of them I pay them to trust them so-

36. are you an open book or do you have walls up?

Way way too many walls up. I've been broken more times than I care to count and that does something to someone, lemme tell ya

37. share a secret

I stole a Hello Kitty necklace from a girl I hated when I was like 7. I still have it, as a trophy. I really hated that girl

39. youtuber you’ve been obsessed with and why?

Pinely! He's so fucking funny and I love his accent. Besides, his videos are amazing. Go watch it!

Ooof, okay. That's it, right? I tried to give short answers so it wouldn't get too annoying, but there we are. Hope you're happy, Sam!

#ask game #asks #samsteacup

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hansolmates · 3 years

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shiver | 01 (m)

banner done by the wonderful @dnrequests

summary; jungkook changed since he moved out of his small town church community and attended college. when he returns for a christmas mass, you suddenly crave a taste of his fun and carefree life. in exchange, jungkook craves a taste of you pairing; bad boy!jungkook x church girl!reader genre/warnings; childhood friends to lovers, brief childhood friends to enemies, fwb!au, catholic guilt, jungkook is a meanie who eventually turns into a soft tsundere, bicuriosity, sexual exploration, virgin!oc, eventual smut—in this installment: touching over the clothes, mc is hornee, *pulls out cards against humanity* “a gentle caress of the inner thigh”, panty kissin, mc is a big ol’ pushover and hopeful for jkk:(( w/c; 1.9k a/n; it’s here! aaaaaa!!! i’ve been really eally realllyyyyyy nervous to post this. even though this is just a drabble series let me know how you feel about it! enjoy [shiver masterpost]

“Oh, you’re so dead.”

Jeon Jungkook isn’t thaaaat buff, he's more of a skinny kind of muscular. You don’t understand the hype, why everyone croons over Jungkook’s strength and physique. However, how else could you explain Jungkook being able to climb the currently dilapidated fire escape to the top floor of the chapel. The ladder is rusted beyond repair and is definitely a fire hazard rather than a fire escape. Yet he barely breaks a sweat doing it, and he wipes the minor sheen off his brow with the back of his hand. There’s some soot and whatever nasty residue from the fire escape that gets on his face, a black streak marring his already annoying face. He’s currently wiggling his fingers in a sarcastic “hello.” It makes you sneer, your two consciousness (inappropriate and appropriate) warring against each other to determine whether you still find this man attractive or not.

Convincing yourself that Jungkook is ugly is the worst quick-fix idea you’ve ever had.

The words of your Aunties, the family friends in the church, echo in your ears. Jungkook’s bad. They’d say over and over. It would cause you to snort and giggle, unable to imagine what sort of things he’s done to warrant such a cliché label. Yet some of the girls your age, girls that have gone off to college agree with sultry looks and longing eyes that yes, Jungkook’s bad. So bad, it’s good.

You haven’t a clue what he’s actually done to earn such a hushed title, his parents are lip-tight about his doings, unless it’s his achievements in the architecture graduate program. You hear things, though. Things that make you shamefully green with envy, envious of sin.

As soon as he finds proper footing in the storage room, he goes to the closet, immediately finding his backup clothes. They’re plain white button-downs, awkward long shirts with no shape or definition to them. They belong to the church, and no one ever uses them because they’re stiff and itchy. Yet Jungkook wears them like it’s tailored, and you have to look away when he quickly knots the bottom half of the shirt, fashioning it into a tasteful double knot in order to cinch his lean waist.

“Pretty sure it was just you that saw me,” Jungkook says dismissively, “so it’s fine.”

This bristles you the wrong way, and you put down the catering covers you were supposed to return to the storage room. You smooth out your Sunday dress, this shade of Boring Beige looking particularly pale in the morning sun. “How do you know I won’t tell?” you turn your nose up.

“Because I know,” he doesn’t even look at you, focusing on rolling the sleeves of his shirt. You weaken when you see the black shadowing across his forearm. That’s new, then again you haven’t seen him since last Christmas.

“Know what?”

“That you have a crush on me,” Jungkook says into the air like it’s common knowledge, adjusting the leather jacket on top of his outfit so the white-startched collar pops on top, “I mean, it’s hard for anyone not to know. You’ve been into me since youth group, Bunny.”

You hold your breath, counting to ten as you close the door behind you. A vision of you playing “Duck Duck Goose” as a five year old plays in your head, where you’d pick a bushy, big-eyed Jeon Jungkook each time, hopping over to him to pat his fluffy head so he’d chase you around.

It’s old news, your puppy love for Jungkook. How could you not like him? He's clever and sweet with his mother and always told the best stories in youth group meetings. Everyone thought your affections were so sweet, and while that attention weaned over time, your feelings have only increased the more self-aware you’ve become.

With a mind as open and honest is yours, it’s hard to ignore how well Jungkook has grown. What has also grown is your curiosities since the two of you have moved onto university. Jungkook goes to the university uptown, a far drive which only forces him attend masses during the holidays. You attended the local community college, wrapping up a bachelors in some vague major that you’re not attached to. You’re currently looking around for some graduate schools, but unfortunately you’ve been so wrapped up doing duties for Pastor Nina that you haven’t been able to look around properly.

Jungkook’s probably living a fun life, with the way he’s grown rough and loose, you resent him.

When you turn back around, Jungkook’s right in front of you, trapping you between his body and the door.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Bunny,” you furrow your brows, nearly growing cross-eyed when he leans in. “I think your crush is cute.”

You’re not sure what he thinks of you. Sure, he considered everyone a friend when you two were in youth group, but that was youth group. Premeditated, parents forcing other children to do the same things with each other for years upon years in the hope they’ll practice together forever and ever. Jungkook did not want that, evident from the way he dipped his duties as soon as he got into university.

You hate how easy he dips back into it though, calling you Bunny and making you feel like a little girl all over again. Bunny, because you’d hop around to him whenever he was in sight. Bunny, because Jungkook had been fondly compared to the wide-eyed, diamond-toothed creature. It was cute when you were five. Now, it’s just discomfiting.

“Don’t call me that,” you bite, “and I don’t like you anymore.”

“Sure you don’t,” he rolls his eyes, and you flinch when Jungkook’s hand rests on the curve of your waist, fingers slotting themselves between the pleats of your skirt. “That’s why you’re not moving away when I’m about to put my hand under your skirt. Because you don’t like me.”

You press yourself further into the door, your skin hot and vibrating. So warm, you feel like you could melt through the door and escape from Jungkook’s gaze. Sure, the young ladies in the congregation talk. Maybe you’ve heard a story or two about Jungkook being seedy, a result of being repressed after years and years of stiff routines and expectations thrust upon him. You could care less about Jungkook’s sexual appetite, until this appetite has reached you.

“Mm, you’re pretty,” Jungkook’s eyes roam your form, the daisy white blouse doing nothing to barricade Jungkook’s sudden interest in you, “you’ve never been touched like this, have you?”

“I’ve touched myself like this,” you hiss in defense, and it’s more out of anger than in pleasure. You don’t need a man to comfort you, but Jungkook’s eyes sparkle in mirth at the new information.

“That’s really sexy,” Jungkook slips down, roams his fingers down to your ankles and plays with the silver buckles of your Mary Janes. You shiver when his hands trail up up up to your knees, the swell of your thighs, and catch right under the elastic seam that holds your secrets together, “but I’ll have you know, it’s different when you have someone hold your pleasure in their hands.”

You’re in the storage room of your church, fifteen minutes before the Christmas mass, with Jeon Jungkook’s head between your legs. Your skirt is long, and Jungkook doesn’t bother to ride it up your waist.

It feels more forbidden that way, Jungkook hiding under the fabric of your skirt to get to your honeyed center, sneaking his way in with rough hands and soft touches.

“J-Jungkook,” you whimper, pressing your full spine against the wooden door, “we shouldn’t. N-not like this.”

What is wrong with you? Is it sheer curiosity? Do you just want to know what it finally, finally feels like? You should be pushing him away. There’s red lights flashing back and forth in your brain like sirens. Yet, do you really want to turn away the attention you’ve been aching for years?

You imagined your first time to be relatively special. The bare minimum, a bed, a talk, and a partner you’re mutually committed to. None of those things are met. Now you understand why all the young women in church whisper about sex like this. It’s a spur of the moment, it’s an unbridled pleasure you don’t want to stop, no matter how forbidden and sinful the act is.

“How else then?” you feel his deep voice straight through your panties, his lips whispering between the pink cotton like he’s sinking liquid heat into your skin. “I can’t sink my fingers into your sweet cunt during the candle lighting. Or when we open presents with the family after. That would be inappropriate.”

Your replies come out in breaths, puffs of air that conceal the moans you so badly want to let out as Jungkook pokes and rubs at you. He does nothing beyond the cotton fabric, only slides two fingers up and down your slit as he gathers the arousal between his digits.

“So wet already, that’s so sexy,” he’s kissing your core, and you sigh fretfully at the pleasure that feels so close yet so far away.

“P-please, Jungkook…”

“Please what?” Jungkook teases, fingers slipping back and forth between the elastic of your underwear, “please stop? Please touch me? Please fuck me?”

The church bell answers that, and Jungkook’s nose knocks right into your bud at the sudden intrusion. You yelp at the jarring stimulation, pulling him from under your skirts as the loud noise echoes in the room. Both of you wince at the pain, the moment interjected.

“You first,” Jungkook casually opens the door for you, as if he didn’t have you ten seconds away from begging him to make you come.

You don’t even look at him as you dash away, not bothering to take the elevator in favor of running off the heat. Two minutes before the procession. The church is packed to the brim, only the back seats left. Your family probably gave up on waiting for you up in the front. As you sit down in the corner, you’re momentarily distracted by the beauty of a decorated church on Christmas. Even though you’re part of the decorating committee and commanded most of the design, seeing the stained glass lit up with fairy lights and the poinsettia plants blooming burgundy on the altar, you’re impressed.

“There’s a draft here, you must be cold.” Jungkook talks to you so politely, a perfect picture of a gentleman as he drapes his leather jacket over your lap. He speaks as if it’s a pleasant surprise, a childhood friend he hasn’t seen in nearly a year.

You can’t tell him to move when people are watching and Jungkook is seconds from interrupting the procession, so you reluctantly scoot over so he can sit next to you. His scent overwhelms you even more now that you’ll have to sit next to him for a whole hour, lavender and vanilla overtaking your pew.

The jacket is heavy and heady on your lap, and you force yourself to stare straight ahead. Jungkook cannot weaken you like this, not anymore.

Thirty minutes later, his fingers are hovering at the start of the homily, caressing your thighs under the jacket with his big hands. A draft? Please. You clamp your thighs together, knocking your knees and hoping they’d lock together for the rest of the mass. Jungkook’s a master key, easily parting his way as if your muscles are pure jelly. You turn your head sharply, glaring at him with all the fire in the world.

“Careful,” Jungkook mouths, eyes flickering to the symbol atop the podium, “he’s watching.”

His fingers finally brush the damp blush cotton of your panties, and you shudder.

#ficswithluv #btsguild #btswritingcafe #kwritersworldnet #btsghostie #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #bts smut #bts fic #jungkook angst #bts angst #kpop fic #hansolmates

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randomshyperson · 3 years

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Wanda x Reader - You’re the only exception

Gif is not mine.

Prompt from anon: “Childhood best friends, and reader is basically a fuckgirl who’s only soft for her childhood best friend wanda, they’re constantly teasing and flirting with each other but they never take each other seriously and then something happens and reader gets jealous and realizes she’s fallen for wanda and then she tries to go for it but wanda doesn’t take her seriously bcs she’s a fuckgirl and a player. “

Words: 4.964k ////// Read on AO3

Warnings: Language, mentions of smut, but its mainly fluffy

You wake up with an arm around your waist. Squinting slightly, you look around the room. You think you are in a warehouse, probably the one near Avenue Two, a few meters from the bar where you were last night. You don't know who the girl next to you is, but she is pretty. You didn't ask her her name when you danced with her, and she didn't ask yours when she dragged you here.

You remove your arm from around your waist and stand up, looking for your clothes. Judging by the brightness entering the room, it is morning. And you groan slightly, thinking that your parents are going to kill you.

Your suspicions are confirmed when you put on your pants and reach for your cell phone. The screen is glowing with several missed calls and voice mails. You roll your eyes impatiently at your parents' controlling mania.

- Were you going to sneak out? - said a female voice startling you slightly. The girl you were lying with woke up, and was sitting up in bed, her tone slightly ironic.

- No, I was going to leave a note. - You lie with a smile. And then you make your best sad expression. - I really have to go.

- My friends told me you were a player, I should have known you'd do that. - She replies without really looking upset.

You let out a dry laugh, finishing buttoning up your shirt and putting on your sneakers. She waves her hand and smiles as you leave the room.

//-//

You definitely need a cup of coffee. So when you leave the unknown girl's apartment, you look for a coffee shop. Entering the place, you sit at the counter, unlocking your cell phone to read your pending messages.

- What can I get you? - Someone asks and you raise your eyes, blinking slightly as you notice the attendant. You smile at her as she says.

- Your number.

She looks surprised, but smiles shyly, and then you tell her your actual order.

When she brings you your pancakes and a coffee, a piece of paper with her number on it is on your plate.

You eat while checking your cell phone, and from your instagram feed you find out that yesterday's party was amazing, and that your best friends had moved the celebration to a parking lot when the police asked them to turn down the music in the house. Yesterday had been Steve Rogers' birthday, but you couldn't make it because you went to a rock concert at a bar, and you actually had plans to join the party, but got involved with a girl and never showed up. You hoped Steve wouldn't mind.

Finishing your coffee, you smiled at the paper with the waitress's number on it before putting it in your pocket, and leaving the place, you probably weren't going to call.

//-//

Your mother is furious when you come home. She screams, and accuses. And you roll your eyes, drop your keys on the counter, and slam your bedroom door as you enter. You shower, and change into more comfortable clothes, and then escape through your bedroom window.

Within two minutes you are at the house of your neighbor and best friend, Wanda Maximoff. You climb up the wall ledge into her room, and tap on the window to get her to let you in.

- Hey, Romeo. - She mocks your position as she opens the window, you laugh lightly as you enter the room.

Wanda sits back in the chair at her study table while you throw yourself on her bed.

- Where were you last night? Steve asked about you at the party. - She says, glancing quickly at you before returning to writing in her notebooks.

- Wanda, darling, I love Steve. - You say. - But between him and a hot girl, which one do you think I'll choose?

Wanda laughs, making a wry expression.

- I should know.

- Is that jealousy? - You scoff slightly, making her laugh again.

- You wish.

And then there was a knock on the door, and Pietro, Wanda's twin brother, entered the room.

- Wanda I need to... Oh hello. - The boy smiled at you charmingly, and you just raised your middle finger at him, making him laugh.

- What's wrong Pietro? - Wanda asked.

- I need you to give me a ride. - He says. - Daddy won't let me drive because of detention.

You giggled lightly, remembering that Pietro was grounded for fighting at school, and almost got suspended. You know because you spent a lot of time with the twins. Wanda lets out an impatient sigh.

- Where to?

- I have practice today. - He says shrugging, and Wanda frowns.

- It's Sunday. - She replies suspiciously.

- Oh, Wanda, come on. Please. - He asks, and Wanda rolls her eyes.

- You'll owe me.

She says as she gets up and Pietro leaves the room excited.

- Are you going with us? - she asks you, but you lazily deny it.

- Thanks, but I'm going to get some sleep.

- Make yourself comfortable, just close the window when you leave. - She tells you, and then leaves the room.

You decided to sleep in your own bed, the smell of Wanda's shampoo on the pillows was distracting you for some reason.

//-//

Mondays were horrible. You dragged your feet toward the school entrance, wishing you could go back to bed. Your first period was history, and you were already sleepy with anticipation.

You barely stepped onto the school grounds when Tony Stark threw his arm around your shoulders, greeting you.

- You are completely crazy! - he remarked with amusement. You blinked in confusion, and he laughed. - I told you that girl was taken.

You really weren't following the story. You reached your lockers, and Tony let go of you just as Steve and Pietro reached you.

- What girl are we talking about, anyway? - you asked as you searched for your books.

- Romanoff, smartass! - Tony replied leaning on the locker beside him. - Someone saw you go down on her in the outdoor patios, and everyone is talking about it. - He tells you, and you giggle.

- And this is a problem because why exactly? - you replied with irony.

Tony laughed incredulously. Steve and Pietro listened to the story with amused expressions on their faces.

- I don't know, actually. - He says. - But I don't think her boyfriend will be happy to find out.

- That's really not my problem. - You reply with mock amusement. And then you finish taking your books and close the locker, turning to Pietro. - Where is Wanda, anyway? When I left home, you guys weren't outside.

Pietro chuckles.

- You were late. - he retorted. - We went ahead, and Wanda is probably talking to the coach.

The bell rings and you grumble, saying goodbye to your friends, since you don't share the same history class. You have been used to going to school with Wanda every day since the first grade, and you don't understand why you missed that brief moment so much this morning. You imagine that it is just the usual.

//-//

You only meet Wanda in the third period of the day. She is distracted, and you are curious.

You walk over to her desk, and she is smiling at her cell phone screen.

- What's with that smile? - You tease, and she immediately blocks the phone, putting it on the table, and making you look at her suspiciously.

- I don't know what you are talking about. - She replies in a tone of embarrassment and mockery.

- My God, you're sending nudes, aren't you? - You exclaim in shock, and Wanda blushes slightly as she laughs, and you sit down beside her.

- You're the worst. - She retorts, looking forward.

- But I'm hot.

You tease, and Wanda rolls her eyes laughing again. You don't talk anymore because the chemistry teacher walks in next, and he hates talking in his class.

//-//

You are bored while listening to the health presentations from last term. You were the first to present, accompanied by Tony and Pietro, because you really wanted to finish this work soon, and now you were leaning over your desk, trying to stay awake while the other students were talking.

Tony patted you on the shoulder to get your attention, and motioned to your left side. You frowned, and then looked up to where he was talking.

It took you a moment to realize that at the two tables after yours was a student with her hand down the pants of the student next to her. You held back a laugh, looking away immediately.

- No fucking way. - You commented to Tony, laughing softly.

The professor asked you to be silent next, but you and Tony lowered your voices as much as possible to continue whispering.

- That's Valkyrie and Thor. - He tells you. - They hang out with the bikers kids.

- They'll be expelled, that's for sure. - You reply with irony.

But then the teacher says he will lower the grade of whoever is speaking and you sigh impatiently as you decide to be quiet.

//-//

Wanda is hiding something from you. And she has disguised it very well, because none of your friends have noticed her strange behavior. But you do notice. You notice her distraction, the way she is even longer on her cell phone, or how she has been sneaking out between cheer practice and class, and when you ask, she just says that she was studying in a quieter place.

But it is Friday, game night, and you will have to find out what this is some other time. You put on the helmet of your uniform and walk onto the field, listening to the excited shouts of the crowd. American football games were very crowded, even if they were not the playoffs.

Tony and Steve greet you with a pat on the shoulder as you join the circle of your teammates along with the coach.

- Are you ready, tigers? - she shouts to you after reviewing the moves one last time.

- Yes, coach! - You and the team shout in unison, and move into position.

When you score the winning touchdown, the team lifts you up in the air as the crowd screams and celebrates. And you are laughing and raising your arms, and your gaze falls to the cheering area, looking for Wanda. And then your stomach drops when you see her, wrapped in a kiss with a boy you don't know.

And you don't understand the feeling that settles in your stomach, so you kiss the first girl who smiles at you, hoping that the feeling will go away. And it doesn't.

//-//

Everyone is saying that Wanda Maximoff kissed a boy at the game on Friday, when you arrive at school on Monday. You didn't come to school with the Maximoffs again, nor did you talk to Wanda all weekend.

You eventually find out that the boy is called Vision, or Vis, and is probably going to become the next millionaire in the country with a genius invention. He is part of the science club, and the debate club, and you have never met him. And then you are putting your books away quite hard on your locker, and Steve looks at you curiously.

- What did the locker do to you? - He teases.

- Bite me.

Your harsh answer makes Steve laugh, and he doesn't press. And then you're walking toward biology class, and the same girl from the game stops you in the hallway. You think her name is Pepper.

- Hey, can I talk to you? - she asks with mischief in her eyes. You knew that a conversation was not what she wanted. And you took one last glance into the room, catching a quick glimpse of Wanda smiling at the phone screen, before nodding in agreement, letting the girl drag you into the nearest bathroom.

//-//

You don't return until second period, and you wait for the teacher to go to the bathroom before sneaking into the room, and throwing yourself into the chair next to Wanda.

- Shit, you scared me! - She remarks when you suddenly arrive. You laugh lightly, throwing the bag on the desk. And then Wanda looks at you with a mixture of mockery and incredulity. - I was going to ask where you were, but I think I have my answer.

You look at her confused, and then she turns to her backpack and pulls out a small mirror, handing it to you. You giggle when you see your reflection, lipstick marks across your collarbone and cheeks, and your lips slightly swollen. A few open buttons in your shirt too.

You try to fix your appearance quickly, and return Wanda's mirror when you are finished, but she doesn't even look at you.

And then the professor is back, and Wanda is distant, and you ignore the discomfort in your stomach.

//-//

You know that you need to talk to Wanda. You don't understand why she is distant, and why she won't talk about her new relationship. And then you are at her window, shortly after she has come home. She frowns in surprise to see you, but she opens the window and makes room for you to come in.

- Is everything all right? - she asks, sitting down on the bed. You hesitate, standing in the window space.

- Is something happening, Wanda? - you ask. - You are hiding things from me. Have I done anything wrong?

Wanda looks away quickly, moving her hands nervously. And you run your hands through your hair.

- I'm sorry. - She says looking at the floor. - I... I didn't know how to tell you.

- You can tell me anything. - You assured, coming over and sitting next to her on the bed, while entwining your hand in hers.

Wanda smiled, looking up at you.

- I met someone. - She tells you, and you keep your face impassive, ignoring the uneasy feeling growing in your stomach. - And it's recent and all... but it' s good. Vis is sweet, and kind. And I think I'm falling in love with him.

You nod, forcing a smile out.

- That's amazing, Wanda! - You hear yourself say it, as if it were true.

And then Wanda hugs you, apologizing for not telling you sooner, and you say it's okay. And when you lie on her bed, and go to watch a TV show, you want to cry. You know what has been bothering you all week. The realization hits you fast and makes your heart soar. You are in love with her.

//-//

Things are going relatively well. It's been two weeks since you realized the real nature of your feelings, and you've been ignoring them just fine. And you've accepted every invitation to parties, dates, and even any walk to think about anything other than Wanda. And even the people who know you are amazed at how many girls you've seen in the last few days.

At this very moment, for example, there was a girl you met in French class giving you oral sex against the gym bleachers. You were trying to concentrate on the feeling, but every time you closed your eyes you kept seeing Wanda. And you didn't want to think about her.

And then the bell rang, and that was the perfect excuse to leave.

//-//

You are very drunk. You think you should have stopped drinking at least ten drinks ago, but you're pouring another one in your mouth.

And then Steve takes you home, because you are in no condition to be left at a party. And you swear to him that you are fine, and that you are going to bed.

And then you head toward the backyard of Wanda's house as Steve leaves.

There's no way you can get up to Wanda's room without falling off the roof, and your brilliant idea is to throw pebbles at her window. But then it is Pietro who sticks his head out of the window, and he laughs when he sees your state, and you frown.

- You crazy fool, that' s the wrong window! - he tells you in a low tone, trying to avoid waking up his parents.

- Call Wanda for me! - You ask in the same tone, he laughs shaking his head before going back inside, closing the window.

You start to look around for more pebbles, but then Wanda comes out the back doors, wrapped in a silk robe and looking at you in annoyance.

- What happened to you? - she asks as soon as she reaches you. You are smiling at her because she looks so pretty. - I called you a million times.

- God, you are beautiful.

Wanda blinks in confusion, frowning.

- You're not even listening to me. - She retorts angrily, but keeps her voice down to keep it down. - How much did you drink?

- I don't know, Mom. - You mock trying to keep your balance. The surroundings were spinning a bit.

- You are unbelievable. - she grumbled angrily. - What do you want anyway?

And then you're laughing, at what you don't know. And then you walk over to Wanda and hug her, but she doesn't respond. You rest your neck on her shoulders, while whispering in her ear:

- Don't tell Wanda, but I am in love with her.

And then Wanda pushes you away and takes two steps back, an expression of pure shock on her face. You stumble backwards and start to laugh, trying not to fall on the floor.

- What did you say? - she asks incredulously.

- Shush. It's a secret. - You say. - Don't tell anyone.

- You're joking. - She says, and you feel your head hurt. - You're lying.

Your drunken brain has one minute of lucidity when you understand what you have just done.

- I am not lying. - You tell her with a smile. - I am in love with you.

Wanda denies it with her head, you don't understand why her eyes are filled with tears.

- You're drunk. - She retorts. - And you're being mean. I want you to leave.

You sigh, and stumble to your feet as you turn around, walking in the opposite direction of the yard. You're not thinking clearly, but you think you don't like this conversation.

//-//

When you wake up, your head aches a lot. So does your body, and then you realize that you have slept on the living room carpet.

- Wow, that is sad. - Your younger sister comments when she comes downstairs to find you on the floor. - I would get up before Mom and Dad saw you like that.

- My sweet God in heaven! - Your mother screams after seeing you lying on the floor. You hear your sister giggle and say "too late". And then your mother is running to you and helping you up. But then she smells your clothes and makes an incredulous expression. - Did you really pass out drunk in my living room?

You are covering your face with your hands in an attempt to lessen your migraine, while your mother starts screaming that you are completely irresponsible, and that you were grounded for the rest of your life, but you're not really paying attention.

You want to understand why your last memory of the night is the image of Wanda's crying face.

- And don't think that you are going to miss school today! - You hear your mother screaming while you are in the kitchen. Your sister listens to the fight with a smile on her lips as she eats cereal. - Get upstairs right now and take a shower! I'm taking you to school today! If you have the audacity to drink so much, you will bear the consequences...

The voice grew more distant as you went up to your room. You looked in the bathroom for an aspirin before stepping into the shower.

//-//

Bruce Banner really wasn't happy when he found out that you had slept with his girlfriend. He approached you as soon as you entered the school, and you had too much of a headache to deal with it now.

- Look, here buddy, it's not my fault that you can't satisfy your girl. - You sneer angrily, and then Bruce advances on you, punching the locker behind you. But then Steve appears and pushes him away.

- Get out of here now, Banner. - He warns with an irritated posture. Bruce hesitates.

- Let's see how you like it when she sleeps with your girlfriend. - He retorts angrily before leaving.

Steve changes his posture completely when he turns to you, and his eyes are tender.

- Everything okay there, Y/N? - He asks and you nod absentmindedly, you really weren't paying attention to Bruce, you wanted to talk to Wanda. - I guess Tony was right. - Steve comments in a wry tone as you walk down the hall together, many looks at you impressed by the confusion. - Banner really wasn't happy.

- I don't give a fucking shit. - You retort with irony. - Have you seen Wanda anywhere?

The boy shrugs his shoulders in denial, and you let out an impatient sigh. You two have English now, and you're going to try to concentrate in class for a while.

//-//

You finally find Wanda, but you have no chance to talk to her now. She is giving a speech in the school gym. The principal has asked her to present the bullying prevention project, and as the class speaker, she has been selected to open the presentation. This would certainly bring good points for the college.

The presentation took about forty minutes, and even though your gaze was glued on Wanda, she didn't look at you once.

And then when the presentation was over, all the students were sent back to their classrooms, and you had to wait in hiding until only Wanda and the three audio-visual students were left in the gym.

You walked over to them, and Wanda's eyes widened when she saw you, but she looked away quickly, hurrying to collect the papers that were probably the draft of her speech.

- Can we talk? - You said, and the audiovisual team present looked at you in surprise, but your attention was locked on Wanda.

- I'm busy. - She replied, finishing picking up the papers and holding them tight against her chest.

- Why don't you tell me what's wrong?

Wanda looked away, but then one of the girls from the audiovisual team approached you with a smile.

- Hey, sorry to intrude. - She said in a mischievous tone of voice, and you blinked in surprise because you weren't even remembering the existence of the other people in the room. - When you're done talking to her, can we do something together?

You frowned, and before you could say no, Wanda let out an impatient sigh, and stormed out of the gym, bumping into you while mumbling "have fun". You were in shock for a few seconds, but by the time you ran after her, you had already lost sight of her.

//-//

Pietro was angry with you. But no one seemed willing to tell you what was going on. You were in the cafeteria, eating lunch at the same circular table as Tony, Steve and Pietro, and the Maximoff twin was treating you harshly.

- What's the matter, Pietro? - you asked mildly irritated when he gave you another judgmental look. But then he looked surprised.

- I don't really know.

You frowned.

- Excuse me?

Pietro let out a sigh and put the can of soda he was holding on the table.

- I don't know what you did. - He tells. - All I know is that Wanda is upset. And then so am I.

You raised your fingers to press them between your eyebrows, feeling a headache forming.

- I swear to God. - You complain. - I don't know what I did! She won't tell me!

- Damn it, don't look at me. I didn't even knew you two had fights! - He grumbles awkwardly. - When was the last time you were even angry with Wanda?

You laughed, tucking your hair back.

- Today I think. - You joked. - I don't really know, I never liked to fight with her.

- Then you must have really fucked up. - He remarks, and you let out a grumble, putting your arms on the table and sinking your head into them. - Maybe it has something to do with you coming over to the house drunk.

You raise your head quickly in surprise.

- What did you say?

Pietro blinks at you in confusion and lets out a short laugh.

- Girl, you showed up in our backyard, completely drunk at two o'clock in the morning. - Pietro tells. - You even went for the wrong window.

You let out a surprised exclamation.

- You're shitting me!

Pietro laughed and denied it with his head.

- I don't know what you talked about, but when Wanda came back inside she was crying. - he says seriously. - She wouldn't tell me what it was, and I think that if I hadn't gotten up to get some water, she wouldn't have told me.

You let out a grumble and shoved your hands to your face, trying to remember. Too many flashbacks from last night came into your head. The party, the dancing, you in a triple kiss with Thor and Valkyrie, and a lot of drinking. And then you remembered the smell of Wanda's shampoo, and finally you knew.

You stood up abruptly from your chair, and Pietro looked at you in surprise, Tony and Steve who were talking next to you also looked at you and Steve asked if everything was okay, but you just nodded in shock at them and ran out of the cafeteria.

You needed to find Wanda, and clear everything up. She was too important to lose.

//-//

You look all over the school for her, and even after the bell rings, you don't go to class. You end up outside, on the soccer field.

And then you see her, sitting on the bleachers, looking straight ahead.

You smile, because she is in the same place where you met as children. As you walk up to her you remember:

“You were in the first grade, and you were playing hide and seek with the other kids at break time. And when you tried to sneak into the bleachers of the soccer field, you bumped into someone.

- I'm sorry. - you said, and looked at the girl in front of you. She frowned and looked down at her hands. You followed her eyes to notice the small kitten in her hands. - Wow, you brought your cat to school?

- I found him. - She answered, stroking the animal. - He was crying.

You moved closer to pet him too, and smiled when he began to purr.

- Maybe he's cold. - You said. - Where is his mother?

The girl shrugged.

- Do you want to help me find her? - She asked, and you smiled.

- Of course. - You agreed, offering to carry the animal, and the girl accepted. - My name is Y/N by the way. What is your name?

- Wanda.

You walked side by side out of the bleachers.”

You sat down next to Wanda, but she kept looking straight ahead. You bit the inside of her cheek, trying to think of exactly what to say.

- I guess I have to apologize to you. - You said, and Wanda let out a dry laugh.

- is that so?

- But I'm not sorry for anything.

Wanda blinks in confusion, and looks at you with a frown. You look at her seriously.

- I will not apologize for my feelings.

- I'm not going to do that. - She declares, getting up, and walking off the bleachers onto the field, you follow her.

- You're going to keep running then? - You shout. - I love you! I love you!

- Stop saying that! - She shouts back as she turns around. You notice the tears in her eyes. - Stop it!

You take a deep breath, and try to calm the nervousness that is coursing all over your body.

- Why is this so bad? - You ask almost hurt, and Wanda lets out a wry laugh.

- Because I know you! - she replies, holding back her tears. - I know you don't date anyone! You go out, and you have fun, and then you leave! And I can't do that! - she finally lets the tears flow. - Not when I've been in love with you all my life.

Wanda lets out a shaky sigh at the confession and you lose your breath.

- W-what...

- I can't do this. - She says turning to leave, you rush to run and get in front of her, and she takes two steps backwards nervously.

- Please listen to me. - You asked with desperation in your voice. - I love you. I do, please, Wanda.

Wanda shakes her head, covering her ears with her hands and closing her eyes. You sigh, and wipe your own eyes. You take a deep breath, and walk over to her, tenderly touching her wrists to pull her hands away from her ears. At first she is startled by your touch, but she allows it, but doesn't look at you. You swallow dryly.

- Wanda, I've always been in love with you. - You confess, and she looks up in confusion. - From the first moment I saw you, I loved you.

- You...

- I never thought I had a chance with someone as amazing as you. - You tell her with a sad smile. - And then I found ways to distract myself from it. I'm sorry for hurting you. I never meant for that to happen.

Wanda lets out a sigh, and buries her head in your neck as she hugs you.

- Please don't hurt me. - She whispers against your skin. You press her against you.

- I promise.

You hold each other for long minutes, and then Wanda smiles against your neck.

- Kiss me. - She asks softly, making your whole body shiver in anticipation. You smile as you pull away only to bring your faces together. Your lips meet in a quiet, soft kiss, and you both smile.

You think you finally understand all the romantic songs in the world.

#wanda maximoff #wandaxyou #wandaxreader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x you #marvel imagines #oneshot #high school au

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midnightswithdearkatytspb · 3 years

Text

VelvetCardiganBucky’s Recommendations 2021: Week 16 | April 11th – April 17th

Welcome to week 16 of my recommendations, if you would like to be featured on a future list, I follow the hashtag #VelvetCardiganBucky, message me, tag me in your future works, or reblog this post and link to your story, one-shot, Masterlist, writing challenge, etc.

Be aware some if not most stories and writers on this list are meant to be consumed by an audience of those 18+. My blog is also an 18+ blog.

✨Page breaks are made @firefly-graphics✨

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My Masterlist

My Fic Rec List of Mafia/Mob Bucky/Sebastian & Steve/Chris/Andy

Stuff I Posted This Week:

Lee Bodecker

One-Shots:

Rough Love by @ladyfallonavenger » Lee Bodecker x Reader — Lee wakes to his wife getting ready for the day. This work is inspired by the song Poker Face by Lady Gaga. | So very hot. 🥵

I Can’t Wait To Meet You by @not-a-great-writer » Lee Bodecker x Pregnant!Reader — Request: Lee doesn’t want to leave his pregnant wife’s side. | I summarized the requested one-shot up. It’s very fluffy and domestic and sweet. I say we petition for the user name to be changed not a great writer to a fantastic writer!

(Mini) Series:

*Give In 🎡 Pt.21 🎡 Pt.22 by @not-a-great-writer » Soft!Dark!Lee Bodecker x Shy!Reader — She didn’t think she was anything special. So when the intimidating Sheriff takes an interest in her, she can’t help but feel a little unsettled. Her boring life is about to get a little interesting. | Can I just say this story is just *chefs kiss*? Lee Bodecker? *chefs kiss* Reader? *chefs kiss* It’s just all so perfect and so is the smut.

Bucky Barnes

One-Shots:

I’m In The Water by @nsfwsebbie » Dark!Winter Soldier x Reader — He’s in the wind, and you’re in the water. Nobody’s son, nobody’s daughter. | Read the tags, this is extremely dirty as well as dark, but I honestly enjoyed it. Sabrina really blew my mind with this one.

Show A Little Gratitude by @thicccsimp » Bucky Barnes x Reader — You discover a new kink with Bucky after making a bad call during a mission. | Hot, Hot, Hot 🥵

Just Wondering by @infernal-fire » soft!dark!Buck Barnes x Reader — Reader is pregnant and has some mixed feelings. | This is sort of adorable, and pregnancy hormones really come out in this.

Sunday Kinda’ Love by @msmarvelwrites » Bucky Barnes x Reader — You weren’t sure when it happened, falling in love with Bucky Barnes. | Brontë is such an amazing writer who wrote something that made my heart squeal while the rest of me just thought it was really hot.

Don’t You by @pagesoflauren » Bucky Barnes x Reader — Bucky sees you for the first time after breaking up with you. | Taylor Swift and Bucky Barnes what more could you ask for in life?

(Mini) Series:

Just Like Dad 💋 Pt.2 by @ladyfallonavenger » Bucky Barnes x Reader — The Reader loses Bucky in the snap and life presents a whole new challenge. | It’s got your angst and your fluff, everything you need for a perfect one-shot.

Sweet Dreams Pt.3 ✨ Pt.1 ✨ Pt.2 by @jedimastermelkor » Bucky Barnes x Reader; Mystery Avenger x Reader — Your daily routine involves waking up in the morning, going to work and sulking at night. But then you meet the man you’ve fantasized about for your entire life, Bucky Barnes. At the same time, you’ve caught someone else’s eye and his first step in winning you over is to cook you breakfast. But will you be welcoming of that person’s affections? | You can tell Bucky really likes the reader in this and the reader has a crush on Bucky. Now you add Peter who you know has a crush on the reader. It's sort of adorable. I highly recommend it. It will keep you at the edge of your seat and your jaw hitting the floor a couple of times along the way.

Stucky

(Mini) Series:

The Miracle Pt.3 ✨ Pt.1 ✨Pt.2 by @heavenhatesme » Soft!Dark!Stucky x Reader — When infertility threatens mankind with extinction and there hasn’t been a baby for almost 18 years, what happens when two certain super soldiers fall for the same woman and accidentally impregnate her? | Heed the tags folks. I want to call them soft!dark, but they are pretty dark, but it’s up to you the reader to decide. The smut in this is great, and the storyline just as good, it also pulls on your heartstrings.

Vampires Will Never Hurt You by @missgraceomalley » Steve Rogers x Darcy Lewis; Bucky Barnes x Darcy Lewis; Steve Rogers x Darcy Lewis x Bucky Barnes — Darcy's been hiding something and Steve can't pin what it is. Can the serum help him? Or will he be compelled away? (AO3)| I love stories that take you on twist and turns, I also love vampires, add in Damon Salvatore plus the two Super Soldiers? You make me very happy!

*Brooklyn Wars by @world-of-aus » Mob!Steve x Reader, Mob!Bucky x Reader / Eventual Mob!Stucky x Reader — Childhood friends pulled apart by a move and a rivalry between families, will a shared promise of ‘till the end of the line’ be enough to keep them together. Or will a deal struck up gone wrong, and an indecisiveness to choose who your heart loves be the ‘end of the line.’ | I spent my Saturday morning re-reading this and loving every part and wishing for more. @world-of-aus is such a fantastic writer that doesn’t get enough recognition in my list.

Steve Rogers

(Mini) Series:

*His Koala Bear by @kinanabinks » Dark!Steve Rogers x Innocent!Reader — You and steve have been best friends since you were 5. for the longest time, he has wanted so much more from you. and it’s getting harder for him to stop himself from taking it. | Prepare for the emotional roller coaster this story is going to take you on and to change your underwear or perhaps to take a cold shower, maybe both.

*Lipstick and Crayons 🖍 Pt.5 by @oneoftheprettynerds » Dark!Mob!Steve Rogers x Single Mom!Reader — Steve can’t ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can’t get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob. | This story makes you feel like you are watching a Dark!Mob Romantic movie staring Steve Rogers. It’s just that good and I love it.

Ransom Drysdale

One-Shots:

Sugar by @chrissquares » Ransom Drysdale x Reader — Reader sees Ransom in his glasses for the first time. | Let’s be honest, I wouldn’t mind seeing Ransom in his glasses more often, especially if he looked like that.

(Mini) Series:

Stolen What’s Mine Pt.1 by @wanderinglunarnights » Ransom Drysdale x OFC!Charlotte Callahan — Charlotte and Ransom are up for the same promotion at the publishing house. She hates his handsome ass, especially when he steals the job as editor in chief out from under her nose. | Charlotte is sassy and she isn’t going to take any of Ransom’s nonsense, I love it! You can tell it’s going to be a good one!

Andy Barber

One-Shots:

I’ll Be Here by @candlefics » Andy Barber x Reader — Jacob grew up with you around. What happens when he’s convicted of murder, and his family falls apart? What will your relationship with Andy turn into? | I like this take on a show I have still yet to watch. It was sweet and emotional, a must read in my book.

(Mini) Series:

*Moment’s Silence Pt.3 🥞 Pt.1 🥞 Pt.2 by @syntheticavenger » Frank Adler x Reader; Andy Barber x Reader — The tumultuous relationship between twin brothers Frank and Andy takes a turn for the worse when Andy offers to wipe out Frank’s debt by asking for the one thing Andy wants that Frank has. | This story has me wanting to bite my nails in anticipation even though I can’t. So freaking good!

Misc.

Drabbles:

Good Behavior by @syntheticavenger » Dark!Andy Barber x Reader; Soft Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader — Andy’s special delivery arrives with a familiar face. | This is hot in a way you wouldn’t expect it to be, and I’m sort of wishing for a part 2.

One-Shots:

*Distractions by @rebelwrites » Jax Teller x Reader — I requested “Can you please put a shirt on?” | Let me just say this prompt was just so well written and it put a smile on my face. I would welcome Jax as a distraction any day, as long as he threw one of his signature panty dropping smiles my way.

Seal Team

One-Shot:

I’m Not Good Enough by @rebelwrites » Sonny Quinn x Reader — “So, we’re just going to ignore the fact that you drunk-dialed me to tell me you love me?” | This broke my heart than it fixed it. 💗

No Damsel In Distress by @rebelwrites » Clay Spenser x Reader — #3 and #13 for Clay Spenser. “Even when we were kids, i always kicked your ass!” And “How is my wife more badass than me?” | So hilarious and badass.

You Aren’t Allowed To Be Sick by @rebelwrites » Clay Spenser x Reader — “What do you mean you’re sick?! You’re my partner in crime!” | Clay can buy me flowers and take care of me any day.

378 notes · View notes

angelikook · 3 years

Text

How to Find Your Soulmate

Pairing(s): Non-idol!Namjoon x reader

Genre: Tooth-rotting fluff, teensy bit of angst

Word Count: 10.2k

Warning(s): None

Summary: Where a journey to find his soulmate took a different turn.

A/n I wrote this as a spur in the moment thing, but it surprisingly came out really well.

The familiar sound of keys jiggling from his front door was a sure sign that he was about to lose whatever amount of peacefulness in his tiny apartment. As he braced himself for what was about to come, the door swung open and came in the person he had been waiting for.

Y/n was her name. Peculiar, wild, and random. Her hair basically could represent her entire personality. Unruly, messy, and out of control. She'd been a loner for most of her lifetime. Definitely a big believer in “I’m a strong independent woman who doesn’t need no man”.

It also came as a surprise to Namjoon when he couldn’t help but to be attached to her a long time ago when they were kids. And ever since that, he had gained a new best friend. Or more like the best friend since he didn’t have that many best friends to begin with.

“Joon, let’s go! We have things to do.” Y/n grabbed on his arm and tried to pull him up from his slouched position on his couch. The couch that became worn out so quickly for its rather frequent use whenever he was stressed.

In his defense, it wasn’t his fault that the couch was so comfy.

Failing to pull him up, Y/n groaned in frustration. “Come on! There’s a bazaar downtown that I wanna check. Can’t have me go alone at this time, right?”

“I don’t wanna get up. Let’s just watch Netflix,” he said as he turned on the TV.

Y/n snatched the remote from his hand and turned the TV back off. “Nope. Let’s go. Tomorrow is Saturday anyways, you can watch the TV all you want.”

Namjoon sighed. “What do I get for this?”

Y/n grinned and cupped her cheeks. “You get to spend time with me.”

“Ugh, I don’t want that,” he teased as he pulled himself up from the couch. “I'm tired of seeing your face.”

“You, mister.” She jabbed her finger at him. “Owe me a boba tea, remember? Now is the perfect time to redeem yourself.”

“Remind me not to wake you up again on Sunday mornings.” He shuddered at the memory of seeing bed headed Y/n screaming on top of her lungs, telling him not to wake her up from her beauty sleep or whatever.

“Are you seriously wearing that, though?” he asked as he eyed Y/n’s outfit.

She still wore the same outfit that she had worn since this morning. There was a noticeable coffee stain on her left cufflinks, indicating she probably had bumped her mug with her hand by accident. Her skirt was already crinkled especially on the bottom part. Disclaimer, he totally did not just check her out. Her heels made her feet red and look swollen. They clearly cut off her circulation, but somehow she insisted on wearing them anyways, claiming that she felt sexy and smart and beautiful in them.

“They look uncomfortable,” Namjoon had commented one day after noticing how her heels made Y/n walk weirdly. “Why don’t you just wear sneakers?”

Y/n scoffed, as if what he had said was ridiculous. “Real women don't wear sneakers to work, Joon.”

“Whatever you say, Y/n.” Namjoon had tried hard to stop the urge of rolling his eyes.

Ever since that, he didn’t even want to talk about her heels. “Let her suffer if she wanted that,” he always reminded himself.

Y/n walked to his full-length mirror inside his room and stared at herself. “What’s wrong with this?”

“Just change into more comfortable clothes,” Namjoon said from the living room. “You’d look out of place."

With that, Y/n closed the bedroom door behind her and grumbled. “This is perfectly fine. People do go out after work to a bazaar.”

She actually said more than that. Way more. But at this point, he didn’t even bother to listen to her. It wasn’t like this was his first time ignoring her blabbers. And he was pretty sure she was used to it, too.

Minutes later, Y/n came out to the living room wearing Namjoon’s hoodie and sweatpants. She even managed to find a pair of his sandals that he thought was gone. Sure her outfit now swallowed her, but at least it was more comfortable.

“Alright, let’s go!” was the last thing she said before they left his apartment.

A boba tea and a corn dog later, Namjoon and Y/n were walking aimlessly. They were just following the direction other people were taking, not really sure themselves where they would end up.

“Aren’t you glad I forced you out of that stuffy apartment?”

“Nope. I still rather be on my couch.”

Y/n frowned. “What?” She gestured to their surroundings. “This is so much better.” She saw a small bench and sat on it, gesturing to him to sit beside her. “I think you need to take a breather and just relax, my dude. Whatever problems you have at work, they don’t exist for now.”

“It’s easy for you to say that.”

Y/n slurped hard on her drink, trying to get as many bobas as possible into her mouth. “You-”. Chew. “-think too much-”. Chew. “-of things you can’t-”. Chew. “-control.”

“Okay, finish your drink first. That’s disgusting.”

Y/n laughed while trying to stop her bobas from coming out of her mouth. After succeeding to suppress her laughter, she chewed on the bobas thoroughly before swallowing them.

“You’re an overthinker who misses on great things in life just because you’re too caught up in your problems. And when you realize you missed those things, it’ll be all too late.” Y/n then continued finishing her drink in silence while he was registering what she just said.

He was so focused on his thoughts to the point he didn’t even realize when Y/n had left him to find a trash can. He was only drawn back to reality when Y/n came to him running and yelling his name in excitement.

Y/n spoke in rapid speed to the point she sounded like speaking gibberish. The only thing he heard was “fortune teller” before Y/n yanked on his hand and dragged him to a small kiosk.

The kiosk was mostly empty. No customers were surrounding it unlike other kiosks. But it wasn’t what set it apart from the others. It was the big letters in front of it that read “fortune teller” in big bold text. Inside, there was only one woman sitting, unmoving, seemingly reading something, a book maybe.

Aware of his and Y/n’s presence, the fortune teller looked up from the book and smiled at them both. Unlike what the media portrayed fortune tellers were, that they were scary and mysterious, her smile was warm and friendly.

“Is there something I can do?” The fortune teller closed the book and stood up.

“Yes!” Y/n replied. “My friend here-” She gestured to Namjoon “-wants to know his future.” After a few seconds of pause, she added, “And about his soulmate too, please.”

Before he could respond, the fortune teller beat him to it. “Very well.” The fortune teller cracked her knuckles before staring deep into his eyes. Her gaze somehow made him feel naked, vulnerable.

They hold their gaze for a while. As seconds became minutes, he felt breathless, and hot. The gaze that at first was soft but strong, became sharper and almost felt painful. But not long after, the fortune teller focused back at Y/n who stood still beside him, gawking at her. He could finally let out a breath that he didn’t realize he had been holding.

“From what I can tell, your friend is on the right track. He’s doing well, but he won’t be if he can’t appreciate the simple things in life,” the fortune teller explained. “As for his soulmate, he already knows who they are, he even knows where they are. The only thing left for him to do is just to figure it out within himself.”

The thing was, he didn’t believe in fortune tellers, astrology, and whatnot. He never even cared about things like that. But seeing Y/n’s grin and the glint in her eyes as she thanked the fortune teller and gave her a tip, he didn’t say anything against it. As much as Y/n called him boring, he wasn’t the type to burst people’s bubble of happiness.

Throughout the walk to Y/n’s apartment, she kept talking about what the fortune teller had said.

“Gosh, I can’t believe you know who your soulmate is.” Y/n lightly punched on his arm. “You never tell me anything.”

Namjoon shrugged. “What’s there to talk about? I don’t know who my soulmate is either. I apparently need to figure it out myself.”

“I know what we can do!”

This sounded like he was about to be in for a bad time. “What?”

“Let’s go do something different! Maybe you'll find your revelation or whatever.”

He really wanted to scoff. “How does that even work?”

“Don’t know. But it's worth a try. Do you want to figure out who your soulmate is or not?”

Of course he did. “Of course I do. What kind of question... ”

Y/n clapped her hands together. “Good! Tomorrow I’ll pick you up. Get ready for a week full of surprises.”

“Wait what? I never signed up for this.”

Y/n rolled her eyes. “You did sign up. You said you want to find your soulmate.”

“But not tomorrow!” he raised his voice in frustration. “We have work on Monday.”

“Just call your boss that you’ll be gone for a week.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Dude, bro, my guy, you need to live in the moment. Plus, you haven’t taken a leave in years. Years, Namjoon.”

He inhaled long and hard before exhaling it slowly. His best friend seriously was going to be the death of him.

“Please.” Y/n looked up at him. He suddenly became aware of the massive height difference they had.

It wasn't that Y/n was short. She said it herself that she was the average height although he didn’t really believe that. She just looked so tiny compared to him. But, on the other side, Namjoon was quite tall for a guy around his age.

He groaned. “Ugh, not the puppy eyes. Seriously.”

“Does that mean I win?” There was a soft gleam of hope in her eyes.

Namjoon was a strong man. At least, that was what everyone who knew him had said about him. So it was weird for the always composed and well mannered man to have a weakness. And to have that weakness took in the form of his childhood best friend was even weirder. What in his best friend that didn’t exist in literally anything that could melt his heart like no other? Puppies and kittens could never even compare. His cute bonsais, too, couldn’t even compare.

He might never find the answer to that. Heck maybe he found out about his soulmate before he could answer that. He could only shook his head in disbelief as Y/n put her bunny headband on his hair.

It was Saturday at 8 a.m, the morning after the fortune teller incident. Y/n simply invited herself into his apartment while he was still in the shower. It was one of the things he regretted after giving her the keys to his apartment. It was meant to be used during emergencies, not for her getting all cozy here and thinking this was her place.

He was walking out of the bedroom, fully dressed and ready for the day, when he heard a sizzling sound coming from the kitchen. He stepped closer to the kitchen and as it came into view, he saw Y/n cooking with her back facing him.

He thought he was being quiet, but apparently not because Y/n turned around and greeted him with a beaming smile.

"Morning! I'm making you some omelette and there's coffee on the table." She pointed at the mug on the table with smoke still puffing out of it. "Exactly two teaspoons as you like it." Then she continued cooking as if nothing had happened.

He was speechless as he looked at the mess in his kitchen. Egg shells on the floor, ketchup smeared all over the kitchen counter, and some puddles on the floor could be seen. It was as if a tornado just came.

“What is all this?” he asked when he finally found his voice.

Y/n carefully plated the omelette before proudly putting the plate beside the coffee. “This is what I call breakfast. Bet you usually only drink coffee in the morning.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. Look at the kitchen, Y/n! Who’s gonna clean up after this?”

Y/n took a look around the kitchen with a readable and all too familiar facial expression.

“I know what you’re gonna say,” Namjoon said as he took a seat. “And to that, I say, I don’t want to clean up your mess. You clean it up.”

She lifted her hands in surrender. “Fine, geez. A thank you would be nice.”

“You not making a mess would be appreciated.”

“Touché."

Usually when he had coffee in the morning, he felt that adrenaline rush. The kind that made you feel giddy, restless, and even made you tremble. This time, thanks to Y/n's cooking, he didn’t feel any of those. He was tempted to tell Y/n about this, but in the end, he just kept it to himself. He didn’t want to fuel her ego. It wasn’t a very good idea to do that so early into this “Journey to Find Namjoon’s Soulmate” or whatever Y/n had called it last night.

Even if he told him all those things, chances were she wasn’t going to listen to him as she was busy admiring her work on his hair. The bunny headband finally put on properly and held his hair away from his face.

“Have you ever put on a face mask before?” Y/n handed him a face mask.

“Umm, no.”

“Let me put it on you.” She smiled as she took back the face mask from his hand.

Within seconds, her trained hands successfully put the face mask on his face. And not long after, her face was also wearing one.

“We’re matching!” Y/n grinned at him. “Let’s take a selfie,” she said as she pulled out her phone.

He wasn’t big on selfies, he didn’t even remember the last time he took one. But seeing the huge smile on his best friend’s face was enough for him to reluctantly agree.

He forced a smile at the camera. He realized it looked awkward as Y/n shoved their photo in front of his face to show him the result. It looked even more ridiculous with the bunny headband on top of his head. However, the girl looked like she didn’t mind as she kept babbling on about how this was their first selfie in years and she wanted to upload it so bad.

“-will ask me about you. And what’s going to happen to me when you date one of them?”

A silence followed her ramblings until he realized she just asked him a question.

He cleared his throat. “First of all, just because I’m dating, doesn’t mean you can’t still be my best friend. Second of all, isn’t the purpose of this… adventure is to find my soulmate?”

Y/n eyes widened in realization. “You’re right! I’m gonna post it then.” As she was about to hit the post button on her phone, she looked at him. “Wait. What should I caption it?”

20 minutes later, when the once cold mask was no longer cold and it started to dry a bit, Y/n carefully peeled the mask from both their faces.

“What do you feel?” Y/n asked expectantly.

Namjoon didn’t even know how to answer that. Truth to be told, these skin care products never really made an impactful difference on his skin, hence the reason he didn’t have a skin care routine. The most he ever did was just wash his face with a face wash and even that was a leftover he found in his sister’s old room a few weeks after she left for uni. A side note, don’t even ask him why he was in her room, he wouldn’t answer it truthfully. His parents would probably say that he missed her, but he knew it wasn’t true… right?

The lack of response from him was enough for Y/n to catch on what he was feeling.

“You don’t feel anything, huh?”

“Wetness on my face.” His answer sounded more like a question.

“You’re unbelievable. Well, since today is just the first day, I’ll let it go. But, the correct answer to that is refreshed, Joon,” Y/n explained in exasperation as she scratched her head.

“What does that have to do with finding my soulmate?”

“You might find out your soulmate faster if you’re not stressed,” Y/n said as a matter-of-factly.

He sighed. “You know what, I don’t even bother to argue with you.”

“Cause you know I’m right.”

That night when he was about to fall asleep, when he was only half-aware of his surroundings, the memory of today’s activity played in his mind. The messy kitchen as his best friend attempted to make him breakfast. Her proud smile as she served his food. The focused look on her face when he was putting on her headband and the face mask on him. And lastly, the tired smile she offered him as she said goodbye when the day ended after they binge watched on Netflix. For the first time in years, he fell asleep with a smile plastered on his face.

The next morning on Sunday, he woke up much earlier than usual. He even woke up feeling energized. He could even feel anticipation bubbling inside of him. The last time he felt like this was when he was around 9 and his parents gave him tickets to Disneyland as a birthday gift. Simply put, he felt like a kid again, waiting for great things that were about to happen today.

As he smiled at the memories of his childhood, he couldn’t help but realize that maybe Y/n was right all along. She always nagged on him because all he did was to mope around on his old couch and get drunk when things got too hard.

“Live in the moment, dude,” she had said multiple times. “You worry too much like an old man who fears the end of the world.”

What a great metaphor, Y/n.

Just like the day before, Y/n entered his apartment without notice. But this time, instead of being in the shower, he was already dressed and waiting for her. He could feel his heart beat get faster when he heard the door being opened.

Y/n widened her eyes in surprise before she smirked. “I like the energy. Let’s just go, then!”

For the second activity in The Journey to Find Namjoon’s Soulmate, Y/n took him to an…

“Animal shelter?” Namjoon asked in disbelief.

Y/n nodded. “I want to see cute animals.”

“We can just go to the zoo.”

“It’s expensive. And they don't really care about animals."

Ever since the start of their friendship, he could never win against her wittiness. So this wasn’t really a rare occurrence where she said an argument so wrong yet so right.

“But a zoo is intended for exactly that purpose. Rather than you playing with those sheltered animals but not adopting one of them in the end,” Namjoon explained.

“Oh, shush. Stop being a party-” Y/n’s eyes suddenly caught a puppy running towards her. “Oh my God, come here, baby!” she yelled as she scooped the puppy up in her arms.

For a few minutes, it was just Y/n cooing at the puppy and he was just eyeing her in amusement. He knew that she would go mushy and all excited around animals, so he couldn’t really blame her for seemingly forgetting about him. Plus, he didn’t want to miss out on seeing Y/n using baby voices to talk to the animals.

His amusement was interrupted when Y/n abruptly shoved the puppy towards him.

“Wha-? I don’t-”

“Just take it. We’re here for you, not me.”

Namjoon sighed in defeat as he accepted the puppy into his arms. Its tail wagging so fast, going for miles per second, to the point he could feel its body shaking from the impact. Its big eyes looking up at Namjoon in… adoration? Maybe going to the shelter might be one of his favorite activities from now on.

They only went home after an entire day spent at the shelter. Namjoon was tired, he almost couldn’t keep his eyes open, but Y/n was probably more tired than him cause she kept running around to chase every puppy and kitten she saw.

He tried to stop her, knowing she would get tired, but she said, “Each one of them deserve love, okay,” before running around yet again.

Now as they sat in the bus on their way home, he saw out of the corner of his eyes Y/n’s head bobbing down every once in a while, following the motion of the bus. He snorted while he tried to hold his laugh. What he had thought would happen, really happened.

Feeling bad because he knew that would feel uncomfortable, he lightly directed Y/n’s head to rest on his shoulder. Instinctively, Y/n snuggled further into his shoulder to make herself more comfortable and when she was finally satisfied, she sighed.

This awfully looked like he was going to have a guest tonight.

The third day was on a Monday. He knew he was weird, Y/n had told him repeatedly, but he really liked Mondays. For him, it was finally the day in which he could do something about his problems at work that he just left off on Friday.

“I swear, you’re literally the personification of weird,” Y/n had commented one day.

To be honest, he didn’t really care if he was really what she had said. Can’t someone like something without being judged?

Right after they both woke up and had breakfast, Y/n went back to her apartment to get ready for the day.

Before leaving, she instructed him to find light clothes as they were going to spend time outdoors for the day. Exactly like what she said, he chose to wear an old t-shirt he had owned since he was in college and khaki shorts he found at the pit of his wardrobe.

“I hope they have mint choco flavor!” Y/n jumped up and down in excitement as they got closer to the ice cream parlor.

“Ew, why do you even like to eat cold toothpaste?” Namjoon asked rhetorically.

Y/n gasped. “What is this mint choco slander? You, mister, have never tasted life until you eat mint choco ice cream.”

“No, thanks. I bet I’d taste death eating those.”

Flabbergasted, Y/n stopped in her tracks and glared at him. “You-”

He quickly cut her off, “Let’s not continue the argument before there’s a bloodbath.”

Y/n chuckled proudly. “Because you know it’d be your blood that’ll be spilled.”

“Um, no,” he interjected. “I think you mistake your blood with mine.”

“Really? You wanna fight?” Y/n took a fighting stance in front of him in which Namjoon just grabbed her elbow and pulled her to walk again.

"Stop that! The kids will think you're one of them," he mumbled.

They were at a busy park surrounding a lake. Kids were running all around the place. Some parents tried to chase them but some went as far as scolding them. A small portion of parents even just let their kids disappear into the crowd of people. He doubted those parents even care about their kids.

He never knew such a place like this existed. During the three days he spent on this journey, he had learned and knew more things than all of his life experiences combined. Maybe he’d have to thank Y/n after they reached the end of this journey.

“I start to think this journey is just your excuse to have a holiday.”

“No way. This is totally 100% for you. Speaking of that, do you already have an idea who your soulmate might be?”

Namjoon shook his head as he opened the door to the ice parlor and gestured to her to enter first. “Just get your damn ice cream.”

There was a long line of people waiting to order, but soon enough, it was their turn.

Even before the cashier could greet them, Y/n already blurted out a question. “Do you have mint choco flavour?”

“We’re unfortunately ran out of it. Maybe you want to try mocha instead?”

Y/n pouted in disappointment as she was trying to find the next best flavor in the menu.

Though mint choco ice cream was his mortal enemy, he couldn’t help but to feel a pang of sadness upon seeing his best friend’s reaction. There was nothing worse than having your first choice unavailable.

“You know what? I changed my mind, bubblegum is now my favorite,” Y/n commented as they walked out of the parlor. A cup of bubblegum flavored ice cream in Y/n’s hand and the vanilla one in Namjoon’s. “Goodbye, mint choco.”

“See? You’re finally agreeing with me.”

“Yeah, but for different reasons. I still think it tastes good, but bubblegum is better. It’s a good thing they ran out of mint choco.”

“Your taste in ice cream is weird.”

“Why would they make these flavors then if not for me to enjoy?” she argued as she put more ice cream into her mouth. She closed her eyes and hummed in content. “I haven’t had ice cream in weeks. I miss how cold it feels.”

“I think you’re exaggerating.” There was no way, in his opinion, not even in alternate universes where she could stand not eating ice cream for weeks. She had a sweet tooth and couldn’t stand not eating ice cream in weeks, at least that was what he knew since the start of their friendship.

“Nope. These past few weeks, my boss has been giving me double the amount of work. I have to work overtime and by the time I’m off work, all ice cream places have closed. So I’m gonna savour all of this as much as I can. God knows when I can get ice cream again.”

Shortly after she said that, a kid, approximately around 9 years old, bumped into Namjoon and accidentally made him drop his ice cream. The kid, unaware of what just happened, just mindlessly bowing and saying sorry before running again to chase his friends.

“Oh no!” Y/n squatted down near the sorry sight of his ice cream.

Before he even registered what was happening, she handed him her ice cream. “Hold it for me.”

Instinctively, he held her ice cream. “Y/n, there’s no need for that. We can find the cleaning service and ask them to clean it.”

He didn’t know whether she was purposely ignoring him or she was so focused to the point she didn’t hear him. All he knew was the fact that she kept on cleaning up as best as she could. And that there was nothing he could do to stop her.

A few minutes later, Y/n jumped up from her squatting position. “All done!” She tossed the now dirty tissue in a trash can nearby.

She thanked Namjoon and took her ice cream back from him. But instead of eating it herself, she scooped some with the spoon and directed it in front of his face.

He must have looked bewildered because Y/n smiled and spoke, “We must share since you lost yours.”

He could swear when she said that, he felt warmth all around his body, originating from his chest. She just said she missed ice cream, yet when he lost his, she didn’t hesitate to share it.

“No, but thanks.”

Y/n frowned and softly touched the tip of the spoon to his lips. Reluctantly, he let her spoon-feed him.

“You said you want to savour it?” he asked after he swallowed.

Her answer, however, was something he never expected coming out from her mouth.

“What’s sweeter than eating ice cream is sharing it with your best friend.”

He swore he almost broke into tears at her words.

He knew how much she loved sweet foods. She even frequently ran to him crying when her brother ate all of her chocolate when they were kids. She broke many friendships because they didn’t want to accept her overpriced candies as presents. Heck, even a moment ago they were arguing about ice cream flavors!

This was a new side of Y/n that he just saw. A side she never showed him before, her best friend slash her only friend. He felt like he was learning more about Y/n than he was about his future soulmate.

So that was how their third day ended. Namjoon and her sitting on a bench facing the lake as they take turns to take a bite of her ice cream.

On Tuesday, the fourth day, Y/n had the genius idea of going on a road trip. It was a huge problem, because one: he couldn’t drive, and two: he wasn’t about to let Y/n drive for hours on end.

“This doesn’t sound like a very good idea,” Namjoon said for the millionth time that morning as Y/n stuffed their luggages into the tiny trunk in her tiny car. “Plus, I don’t think your car can withstand long hours on the road.”

"Shush." She forcefully closed the trunk. "You can't drive, therefore you don't deserve to have an opinion."

The car in question was a 2010 car that originally was owned by Y/n’s dad and given to her when she got a driver’s license. Please note that Y/n had told him long ago that she actually didn’t drive that much and probably wouldn’t need a car since she enjoyed taking the bus to work. Nevertheless, she refused to sell the car when she was in need of money after moving out of her parents’ house. She had said, and Namjoon still remembered it clearly, that, “I want to keep this bad boy until he’s an antique, then I want to sell him to the highest bidder, so I can be rich."

‘Okay’, Namjon had thought, ‘but antique cars are usually just sitting in the garage, not being overworked like Y/n’s.’ However, he never said anything, so Y/n automatically had thought she won again against him.

Minutes later, they were already on the road, going nowhere in particular. Namjoon was still steadfast in his stance. This wasn’t going to end well.

But what if he could persuade her to turn the car around by another means? He wasn't going to pass up this opportunity, so he tried again.

"Won't you be tired? Sleepy?" asked him.

"I'm not weak, Namjoon. Contrary to what you see me as, I'm as strong as you are, if not stronger."

"I lift three times a week." His words sounded more like a question.

"I walk up the stairs to the fifth floor multiple times a day."

Okay, this wasn't where the conversation was supposed to flow, but he wasn't going to back down.

"It's not my fault your apartment is crappy," he clapped back. “They can’t even fix their damn lift.”

"They will get it fixed soon, don't worry."

"That's what they said months ago!"

"Then what do you want me to do?" she challenged him.

"Find a new apartment!"

"They're all expensive. Plus, I’ve lived there since college, I’m kinda attached to it."

"You're a hopeless cause," he mumbled quietly, she probably didn't hear him.

After a few seconds of silence, Namjoon tried again, this time using another different approach.

"What if something terrible happens?"

"No, it won't. Relax. Chill. You're worrying too much. Why don't you just take a nap?"

"You're too chill, Y/n. We go out to nowhere without booking-"

"It's okay, really."

“How?” he asked, exasperated of how calm she was when they were about to go somewhere empty handed and with no planning whatsoever.

“How? Umm, I was on a road trip once.”

He wasn’t convinced. “When? You never tell me anything about it.”

“I don’t need to tell you everything I do! It was when I was 12. My dad and uncle took me along with them to go around the country.”

“12 years old, Y/n! You were 12. Now you’re in your 20s.” Namjoon wasn’t amused at all at this point. “Turn the car around now!”

“What? No!” Y/n exclaimed. “This is an important part of the journey. Being at a place you’re familiar with won’t help you dig deeper into yourself. You’d just be too preoccupied with your problems.” Then Y/n finished her speech off with a quiet mumble, “You’ll never find anything new by being in your comfort zone.”

Namjoon hated once again at how right her words were. He really wanted to argue with her, but she was right. Being on his couch all day, doing the same things everyday, wouldn’t change anything in his life.

He took a deep breath to calm himself down. “Fine, okay, you win. Happy?”

Out of the corner of his eyes, Y/n grinned. “Very.”

That night they arrived at a small motel that probably only had like 10 rooms at most. It had a homey feeling, but the stench coming from the lobby, though. It was unbearable for him.

As they dragged their suitcases while they were trying to find their room amidst the numberless doors, Namjoon asked Y/n, “Why are we in this crappy motel again?”

To answer that, Y/n shrugged. “Don’t know. I just saw the signs and went straight in.”

“Didn’t you smell something at the receptionist?”

They finally arrived in front of their room. They didn’t actually know it was their room, but based on the instructions that the creepy receptionist just gave them, there was a high chance this was it.

Y/n answered as she opened the door. “Yeah. The receptionist actually whispered to me that they just finished eradicating rats. He said there was an infestation in the lobby.”

He couldn’t help but to grimace while following her into the room. She had been told about all of that and she still decided to rent a room. He would never understand her way of thinking even after years of friendship.

As if she could read his mind, she spoke, “Don’t worry. All the rats were successfully killed and all of them were in the lobby. We’re safe.”

“How do you know?”

“I asked him. I’m not stupid, Joon.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Geez, chill. I just asked you a question.”

And that was how their fourth day concluded.

For the first time since the start of the journey, Namjoon finally initiated an activity on the fifth day.

He managed to browse on his phone for things they could do, eat breakfast with whatever food they had, and even pack lunch for the both of them before Y/n even woke up.

When she woke up, he hesitantly asked her to go hiking. Throughout the journey this far, he only followed wherever she wanted to go, so he didn’t really expect the reaction that he got from her after proposing his idea.

She widened her eyes as she digested his words and her breakfast. “Hiking? Where?”

“Behind this motel, there’s a small hill. What do you think?”

Y/n nodded a little too enthusiastically. “Let’s go. Spending a day with nature doesn’t hurt.”

Oh, how wrong she was.

The idea was for them to hike together, maybe even side by side, as they enjoyed the view. But instead, Namjoon left her a solid 50 meters.

Perhaps it was because he was taller, therefore he had longer legs and strides, or because he was excited, so he walked faster, or even both. No one really knew for sure, not even him.

“Joon!” she called once again in the span of less than 5 minutes. “Don’t walk too fast!”

Namjoon sighed as he stopped in his tracks, waiting for her to catch up with him. She was lucky she was his only best friend or he would’ve strangled her by now because of her naggings.

Quite a surprise to himself, when she finally caught up with him, he squatted down and ordered her to ride on his back. He wasn’t sure what had possessed him, but he just went with it. Maybe his unconscious thought that she would quit complaining if she was on his back. There was only one way to find out.

“Why? I can walk on my own.” She wiped the sweat on her forehead with a tissue.

He scoffed. “You look like you’re about to pass out any second. Just shut up and let me carry you.”

He didn’t know what he had expected from giving someone a piggyback ride and that someone to be Y/n, but he was sure a strangling grip around his neck wasn’t part of the deal.

“Can you-” Gasp. “-not strangle me?”

Y/n immediately let go of him. The warmth of her embrace suddenly disappeared. “Oops. Sorry.”

Once they arrived at the top, Y/n jumped off his back. “Woah, this is so cool.” She pointed at the motel that now looked small. “That’s our motel!” she exclaimed.

They found a large flat rock that they both could sit on and ate lunch together.

As she munched on her food, she asked, “Have you figured out who your soulmate is?”

“Not yet. I start to think this doesn’t work.”

“Good things take time, my dude.”

Oh, how he really wished it was true.

“Hey,” Y/n’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Do you know that I always wanted to tick off ‘hiking’ from my wishlist?”

“The wishlist you had since you’re 10?”

She nodded. “After more than a decade, I finally finished everything on my wishlist.” She suddenly broke into a fit of giggles. “I’m gonna make a new one once we’re home.”

“What’s going to be in it?” he asked curiously.

Y/n took a moment to think before answering, “Maybe… to find my soulmate.” It came out more like a question rather than an answer.

She abruptly chuckled. “Wouldn’t it be crazy if in the end we figure out our soulmates in this journey?”

A lightning fast thought struck him but disappeared just as fast as it came. Throughout the rest of the day, he was trying to recall that thought to no avail.

The next day, on Thursday, they were going home. They couldn’t handle another hour, no scratch that, they couldn’t even handle another minute at the motel. Opposite to what Y/n had initially thought, the stench of rat carcass reached far beyond the lobby to their room.

A series of “see I told you so”s later, Namjoon finally broke her.

“Yes, Namjoon. Thanks for telling me that. I know you’re right and I’m wrong. Now please put on a song, I want to sing.”

Another thing Y/n was bad at, according to him, was singing. He knew she liked to sing, she’d told him about it, but he never understood how she managed to be so confident yet so bad at it. If he were told to rank between her ability to sing and choose a good motel, he’d probably have put singing as the first place based on how bad she was at it. Call him a bad friend, but he was just being honest.

However, he still played a song just to satisfy her. An easy song that no one can screw up, but he knew she would still screw up anyways. After all, enduring her cracked singing voice was the least he could do after being driven from and to a crappy motel.

And then she sang. And sang. And sang. One song turned to three turned to five then ten and fifteen. Before she went for the sixteenth song, Namjoon stopped her.

“Aren’t you thirsty from singing?” Nice catch! The question was just an attempt to make her stop a while so he could regain his hearing.

“Don’t even have to ask.”

As she gulped down water from her flask, Namjoon eyed her warily. He prayed, and he was an atheist, that she would forget about singing.

He didn’t know which God had answered his prayers, but when Y/n put down her flask, she already babbled about something else other than singing. Looked like the world, and God, were on his side today.

She was talking about the random bird that was flying straight to her car, almost hitting the car. Also about a dog that stuck out its head from the car beside them. And about how expensive the motel was for being smelly and dirty.

Lastly, “Do you think I cut out to be a singer?”

Yeah, maybe he was pushing his luck.

Day seven fell on a Friday. They spent the day walking hand in hand leisurely on the beach. Beside him, Y/n was talking about what color she should dye her hair next.

“I think I should go with green. What do you think?” Y/n nudged his side with her elbow and wiggled her eyebrows.

“Your boss won't let you dye your hair crazy colors,” he said. “Please don’t do anything that can get you fired.”

Y/n pouted at his answer. But soon her frown vanished as her eyes fell upon a bikini in a display of a store.

Namjoon exhaled. He knew exactly what was going to happen.

True enough, Y/n pulled on his hand that was still clasped in hers towards the store and only stopped after they were in front of the display.

“What a cute bikini!” she cooed before running inside the store, leaving a bewildered Namjoon outside.

Right when he entered the store, he heard a squeal that could only belong to one person.

He turned to the source of the sound and saw Y/n laughing with a store clerk. A male and handsome store clerk.

He wasn't the type of person who gets jealous easily or possessive, but he never saw Y/n with a man other than himself. So he couldn't really help it when he felt jealousy seeped through his gritted teeth. But he soon had forgotten about it when Y/n looked up at him and grinned.

Y/n approached him while holding a bikini set.

“This is their latest design. I’m gonna try it. Wait for me!” Then she disappeared to the fitting room before he could remind her that she didn’t wear bikinis.

Throughout the time he had known her, not even once she ever said anything about bikinis, let alone wearing one and he had known her since they were in diapers. What made her suddenly want to have a bikini?

Minutes later, after a series of clanking noises and a few curses, Y/n came out of the fitting room and he couldn’t believe what he saw. Surely the fitting room was a magic box or something, because there was no way his childhood best friend, his innocent Y/n, came out looking like a model out of a magazine. Well, maybe more like a model before they got heavily photoshopped since he still could see some tiny spots, cellulite, and scars on her skin. And maybe a plus size model because her hips would be considered wide compared to those models. But he didn’t mind them, they made her look more… natural, more human.

While he was busy admiring her, a cough suddenly woke him from his daze. He turned to see the store clerk from earlier, now standing beside him.

“You look very beautiful,” he commented, not minding the killing glare coming from Namjoon.

Y/n, without heeding the store clerk’s compliment, asked, “Joon, do you think this is okay?”

Namjoon was tempted to say, “Just okay? You look like a greek goddess who just blessed me with her presence.” But he was too paralyzed to say anything.

“I think you look great,” the store clerk spoke up again. For a split second right after he said that, he looked at Y/n’s thighs before looking at her eyes again.

It happened so fast, Namjoon thought he was just imagining it. But when Y/n’s facial expression turned sour and she quickly went back to the fitting room, he was wondering whether she saw that too.

His suspicion was confirmed right after they left the store.

“I can’t believe it!” she said while stomping beside him. “He looked at my thighs, Joon! Did you see it, too?”

He just hummed.

Y/n huffed. “I’m going to file a complaint to their manager.”

“You won’t do that,” he replied knowingly.

“I’m gonna make it viral, then. Let the whole world see how horrible he is.”

Namjoon really wanted to laugh at how ridiculous that sounded. “How? You don’t have footage of him doing it.”

“Damn, you’re right,” she mumbled. “Maybe I’m just not meant to have a bikini.”

A lot of thoughts ran through his mind. He wanted to let her know how pretty she looked in that bikini. How captivating the curves in her body were. But in the end, he only suppressed all of that. In his justification, he wanted a more appropriate timing. He didn’t want to say all that to her when she was mad or she’d think he said that to make her feel better. He wanted not just to comfort her, but to actually make her realize how beautiful she was.

On Saturday, his second favorite day after Monday, Y/n arrived a bit later at his apartment compared the days before. But when she saw him ready for the day, she said, “I’m giving you a chance to wake up late, but whatever.”

As per usual, Y/n didn’t tell him where they were going, and he was surprised when they arrived in front of a large building with a sign that read “library”.

Looking at Namjoon’s puzzled face, Y/n probably could read what was in his mind. “You still have no idea who your soulmate is, right? I just think that maybe it’s because we’ve focused so much on doing physical activities instead of, like, feeding the mind.”

“Huh?”

“Maybe we can do a little bit of reading. Because, you know, reading is like eating but for the mind. Or whatever that quote is supposed to go,” she elaborated.

“I read in my free time.”

“Have you read anything during this entire journey?” she raised an eyebrow.

He rolled his eyes. “That’s because of your brilliant idea of having a journey. Had you let me sit down on my couch, I would’ve read the entire biography of the founding fathers by now.”

“Gosh, you’re so boring. No wonder you haven’t found your soulmate. And for the record, you learned a lot of things from this journey. Things that might help you find your soulmate. You know what, let’s just go.” With that, Y/n pulled on his hand and stepped into the library.

Namjoon was in the middle of reading a philosophy book when Y/n suddenly spoke to him.

“I can’t focus, Joon,” she whined. “I have too many things on my mind.”

Those words were the most terrifying words he had ever heard, especially if they came out of Y/n’s mouth. Every time he heard those words, he felt like he wasn’t being attentive enough towards his friends to the point he didn’t know that something was disturbing their peace. And that feeling was heightened when Y/n was the one in trouble. He knew her for the longest time, shouldn’t he be more caring towards her?

He breath hitched, anticipating what Y/n had to say. “Why?”

She took a deep inhale before exhaling slowly. “I know this stupid because it hasn’t ended yet, but I already miss this journey.”

Obviously he didn’t want to admit it in front of her, she would get a crazy idea otherwise, but he, too, could feel a pang in his chest that felt awfully familiar. It was the same feeling he got when he moved out of his parents’ house and when he was reminiscing the time he spent with his late dog. Also when he graduated from high school and had to leave his high school friends to pursue higher education. He wasn’t a stranger to this feeling. In fact, he knew it too well.

Y/n was right, though. It was indeed stupid to feel this way because they still had one more day together.

So he responded with, “We’re still in this journey. And even after this journey ends, we can still go on adventures together,” as a weak attempt to console her and also himself.

“It’s not the adventures that I miss. It’s the time we spend together. We’ve never spent this much time together.”

Of course he knew that. He knew he was going to miss the time they spent together, but his own pride made him unable to act vulnerable in front of her. Especially in the time when she needed him the most.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, each deep within their own thoughts. That was when a crazy idea suddenly came to him. He usually wasn’t the one coming with crazy ideas, it was kinda Y/n’s thing and she probably would have copyrighted it if it was possible. But he wasn’t just going to be quiet at a time in crises like this.

“We can arrange some small one-day adventures every month. How does that sound?”

Y/n smiled although it didn’t reach her eyes. “Sounds great. Just promise me you won’t rain check on me.”

It worked! He successfully made her smile again. As he cheered inside his mind, he assured her, “I won’t. I’ll write it on my calendar.”

Namjoon dreaded the last day of The Journey to Find Namjoon’s Soulmate more than when he was called for a job interview by a big company. He even had clammy hands and was sweating bullets. His hand trembled as he waited for Y/n to announce what they were going to do on this last day.

“Holiday has to be concluded with a lazy day. So I call for breakfast in bed,” Y/n explained as she once again wrecked his kitchen.

“I’m not in my bed, though.”

“Your bed is not locked for the rest of the day once you’re out of it,” Y/n said in a matter-of-factly.

“But please don’t ruin my kitchen.”

Y/n briefly stopped cooking as she looked around the kitchen. Then she shrugged. “Well, it’s too late. You should’ve said that earlier.”

He originally had thought that Y/n would make food for him, give it to him, clean the kitchen, then left. But he was surprised when Y/n came back to his bedroom while holding a plate of her own after delivering his.

“Move,” she commanded before shimmying beside him on the bed. She grabbed the remote on the nightstand and turned on the TV.

“Now, we relax. Because we’ll be stressed out of our minds tomorrow.” She leaned back and started eating her bacon.

So that was pretty much how their ninth day went. But that wasn’t all.

Long after they had finished their food, they still watched the TV. Messy kitchen and other duties were long forgotten.

As time passed by, Namjoon found himself cuddling Y/n while she rested her head on his buff chest. And not long after, they both fell asleep in that position with the TV still playing in the background.

But all of that couldn’t last long as tomorrow they had to go to work. So after waking up from their nap, they cleaned the kitchen and Y/n went home before it got too dark.

Instantly after Y/n closed the door behind her, Namjoon felt empty. It wasn’t just his apartment that felt empty, but also his mind and soul. He was already used to her constant nagging, her constant company, and her voice. He wanted to run to her and tell her to extend their journey, but obviously, that was impossible. They had responsibilities, especially since they just neglected them for a week.

On Monday, the day that used to be his favorite but now he loathed it, he came home to a voice message from the person he’d been waiting for.

“Hey. Sorry I didn’t talk to you yesterday whether you’ve found your soulmate or not. I was anxious about work so I forgot. Umm… As soon as you receive this message, please call or text me, okay? I wanna hear what you thought.”

He couldn’t help but also notice something in her voice. Fatigue? Or was it sadness? He swore he could hear it and wasn’t just imagining it.

Wanting to check up on her, he automatically called her. First ring. Second ring. Third ring. He waited and waited, but it only went to her voicemail.

Not giving up so early to talk to his best friend, he rang her again. And waited. And waited. And kept waiting. But just like the first time, she didn’t pick up her phone.

In the end, he settled with sending her a text.

He didn’t know why he was suddenly nervous as he typed the message.

It said, “I still don’t have an idea who that might be. Maybe the journey didn’t work. But, hey, are you sad? Or maybe sick?”

He only got the reply the next day at lunch. He kinda hoped to read long messages about how he shouldn’t be so pessimistic and that he surely would find his soulmate, just like how Y/n usually talked. But instead, she just replied with, “What a bummer.”

He only sighed in disappointment.

The next few days were grim and hard for him. His boss gave him so much work despite having to catch up on his other work. Every time he rode the bus from and to work, he remembered Y/n’s slouched position beside him as they came home from the animal shelter. He could almost feel her head on his shoulder again.

Every time he played a song, he got reminded of the time when he had to endure Y/n’s off-key singing. A memory played in his mind every time he passed an ice cream parlor. Heck, he even missed the feeling of anticipation that he felt every time he woke up in the morning.

What was worst of all though was the fact that they didn’t talk at all after her last text. Not even the occasional text messages or sending each other memes just like what they used to do before the journey started.

He knew it was because they both had a lot of catch up to do after neglecting work for a week, but he really wished that they could spare a bit of time to talk together.

Oh, how silly he was when he dismissed her for missing their time together back at the library. What made him feel even more silly was him being a coward and not admitting back then that he was, too, going to miss spending time together.

One particular night, he had trouble sleeping worse than any other night he had been missing Y/n. He kept turning around, hoping to find a comfortable position to fall asleep in, but to no avail. In the end, he gave up and settled to reminiscing their time together.

As he delved into his memories, every single activity they did, every word she said, and every place they went to, his half-awake mind came upon a realization.

He missed her enthusiasm that could lift his bad mood instantly. He missed her pushiness that made him do things he didn’t want to do, only to show him that she knew what he would like. He also missed her short legs and her whines when he walked too fast. He missed her love for animals, her love for mint choco ice cream, her laugh, smile, kindness, and voice.

He missed her beauty, her body, and her sense of style. He even missed her unruly hair. He missed receiving her love and attention. He missed loving her and having her in his arms. He missed loving her. She was the soulmate he had been looking for. She was his soulmate. His. Soulmate.

At the crack of dawn, a few hours after Namjoon could finally fall asleep, he woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep. He had an important thing to tell Y/n. And he had to do it now before she went to work and he lost another chance to meet her.

He checked the clock, it read 5 a.m. He quickly got up from his bed, took a shower, and grabbed a protein bar before leaving.

In the bus on his way to her apartment, he kept tapping his foot impatiently as he chewed on his protein bar. At times like this, he really wished he could drive. But for now he had to settle with the bus.

He jumped out of the bus as soon as it stopped at the bus stop closest to her apartment.

He checked the time again, 5:43 a.m. He still had a few minutes before she woke up.

He arrived in front of her apartment after five minutes of walking. He knocked on the door rapidly to the point he was sure he accidentally woke up the neighbors. However, it was the last thing on his mind.

A minute later, a sleepy Y/n with a bed head opened the door.

“Namjoon, wha-”

He instantly pushed her in and closed the door behind them both.

“Hear me out,” he demanded.

Y/n nodded while yawning.

“Let me help you cross out one activity from your wishlist.”

“Why are we talking about that at this time?”

“Because it’s important."

“I don’t see it."

He started to lose his patience. “It is! There’s one activity that’s really important right? Like, more important than the others.”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “Which one? I haven’t written a lot in the list, actually.”

“What are they?"

“To eat a banana-”

For a second, Namjoon was speechless. “What? Banana? Why?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I just miss eating bananas.”

“Okay… What’s next?”

She took a moment to think, then answered, “Ah! I want to buy a new phone. Haven’t changed mine in years.”

He sighed. “Next?”

“Be a babysitter for a day.”

That wasn’t an answer he was looking for. “It’s a job for teenagers.”

“That’s why I only want to do it for a day.”

“Then?”

“Learn skateboarding. A skatepark just opened around here.”

“Anything else?”

She pouted. “You don’t want to help me cross any of those?”

“Not that. But, you said a few days ago on our journey that there was something you wanted to put on your wishlist.”

She tilted her head in confusion. “Really? I don’t remember. What was it?”

He really wanted to strangle someone at this point. Why was she so dense? “You really don’t remember?”

“I don’t think I do. Sorry. What was it, though?”

“You wanted to find your soulmate.”

It took her a second to digest his words, but when she finally did, her eyes widened. “Oh, right. Does that mean you want to help me find my soulmate? Go on another journey? You know, you don’t have to use that as an excuse to-”

“Shut up, Y/n. Stop talking so much.”

Y/n frowned. “Sorry.”

He huffed. “I never knew doing this was going to be this hard.” He looked deep into her eyes. “I don’t want to go on another journey to find anyone’s soulmate. And especially not after I realized last night that we have found our soulmates.”

Before he could say anything else, she cut him off. “Really? Who is yours? What about mine? Do I know-”

“Yes! We know them.” He finally decided to just cut the chase and came out clean. “You’re my soulmate, Y/n. And I’m yours. I was so busy chasing love during our journey to the point I never thought about the possibility of you being my soulmate.” With a softer tone, he concluded, “The fortune teller was right. I knew who my soulmate is and where to find them, but I was too stupid to realize that.”

Y/n was stunned for a while before slowly blinking. Once. Twice. “Wow. That’s crazy.” Then she grinned. “You finally admit that you’re stupid!”

“Y/n, that’s not the point!” he groaned.

“Yes, yes, I know.” She laughed. It sounded like bells in his ears. “I’m just messing with you. So, what should we do now?”

“Y/n.” He turned serious if he wasn’t being serious before. “Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

For a few seconds, Y/n stared at his eyes expectantly, as if she was waiting for something.

“Y/n?”

“What?”

“What do you say?”

“Of course yes, you dummy. I thought it was obvious.”

“Seriously now?” He rolled his eyes.

“Wait. Is this the part where we should kiss?” she asked in wonder.

He was really holding himself hard not to roll his eyes yet again. “Duh, Y/n.”

“But I haven’t brushed my teeth!” Then she disappeared into her bathroom, leaving a bewildered Namjoon in the living room.

As he stared at her bathroom door, he whispered to himself, “What did I just sign up for?”

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renjunfromthestars · 4 years

Text

more than

Pairing: Mark + reader, Bestfriend! Mark, Childhood friend!Mark

Genre: Fluff, angst, honestly a little bit of crack LOL

Song recs: Best friend + Untitled + Waiting Room (Rex Orange County), Sofia (Clario)

Warnings: Mild swearing and mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 7.0k (my longest fic yet, wow!)

Summary: You’ve known Mark for all your life, and it only takes one drunken night (plus a little intervention with Haehcan) to think that you wouldn’t mind getting to know him a little better...

Notes: The fact that I actually had the patience to sit down and to write something above 3k words,,,,absolutely astounding, amazing, unique, never been seen before…. Mark is a little awk and always works so hard (poor bby), so imagining him as a super stressed pre-med major and oblivious best friend absolutely wrecks me thank you goodbye

----

When you first meet Mark, you’re eight years old, and it’s at church. He’s dressed in his Sunday best: a light blue button up, khakis, and shiny dress shoes. He looks stiff as your mother introduces you two, with his shirt buttoned all the way to the collar.

It’s not that you dislike him, but you think he might dislike you, with the way he avoids eye contact, eyes tracing the floor, your shoes—anywhere but your face.

You see panic flash through his eyes when his mom gently pushes him towards you, telling him to take you inside and reserve a spot in the pews while she catches up with your mom.

He shuffles awkwardly, and wordlessly, you follow him into the building.

The pews are almost empty, with the bulk of them being filled in the front by the old people that usually have nothing better to do on their Sunday mornings. Although your local church is on the smaller side, it feels unusually large with rows of empty pews, almost eerie. You shudder at shadows the walls make with the stained glass, and hurry to your usual spot towards the middle.

If Mark notices your apprehension, he doesn’t say anything. He’s oblivious, actually, not noticing your absence until he’s almost at the end of the rows. When you see him stop and search for you frantically, you stifle a laugh.

He eventually finds you, and after shuffling awkwardly between the pews, makes his way to you.

“This is kinda far, isn’t it?” he murmurs.

“Huh?”

“I mean,” he stammers. “I usually sit closer to the front. ”

You peer at him from the side. “You actually want to pay attention?”

He scratches the back of his head. “Well yeah, isn’t that the point?”

“I guess,” you say, looking at the ceiling. With the sprawling arches and patterns, the designs are pretty, you think.

“You should at least try, it’s kinda interesting,” when you turn your head to look at him he turns away. “Only if you want to, of course.” he adds, fidgeting with his hands.

When you tell him that maybe you will, you see him crack a small smile.

It becomes a routine, almost every Sunday, with you and Mark sitting next to each other. Whether it’s closer to the front or the back, it’s a whole debate. You usually give in, because when you walk in, Mark is already waiting for you in the front.

….

“Do you still go to Church?”

You’re laying on a green bean bag in Mark’s dorm room, procrastinating on the midterm paper you were supposed to get started on, well, a week ago.

You think for a second, hand raised to rub your chin, just to tease him. “What’s church?”

“C'mon dude, are you serious?”

“Barely,” you say, standing up to move to sit on his bed. “You should really get a new bean bag, it’s kinda deflated.”

Mark ignoring you, reaches over from his desk to fluff up the bean bag. “It’s because you sit on it so much.”

“Are you calling me fat?” and before he can defend himself you finally answer him, “I stopped going in like, middle school. It would be hard even if I wanted to, to find a whole new congregation, and I’m just busy. Also, it’s so boring, I could cry.”

Mark perks up. “Not if you go with me.”

You groan dramatically, and Mark chuckles.

“Good to know that you haven’t changed since you were eight.”

It’s just your view on church, that hasn’t changed since you were eight. First thing things first, you were 19 now, going on twenty. You’re in University now, your second year. It’s been a blur assignments, partying, coffee and term papers- you don’t have time to think about anything else right now. Except maybe actually starting your paper but-

Mark interrupts you midthought, breaking the silence. “Are you still with that guy?”

“Huh? Who? Yuta?”

“Yeah,” Mark responds sheepishly, avoiding eye contact.

You roll your eyes. “No, we haven’t been together for a while. It wasn’t that important so I forgot to tell you.”

You can tell he's surprised about how unusually calm you are for talking about your first serious breakup, but he doesn’t say anything, instead just scratching the back of his head awkwardly in typical Mark fashion. “He was an asshole anyway,” Mark murmurs.

“What did you say?” you ask, acting shocked. “Mark Lee? Talking shit?”

Mark, embarrassed, refuses to repeat it.

“I’m just saying, he wasn’t the right person for you.” he protests.

“As opposed to who? God himself?”

“I can think of a few,” he sighs, but you aren’t paying attention, instead laughing your ass off on his bed.

“You’re insufferable,” he says, standing up to open the door. “C’mon let’s go, I’m hungry. I know you’re not starting that paper anytime soon.”

…

It’s a routine, seeing Mark on Monday afternoons for lunch. Not Friday, because you were busy getting wasted, and consequently not Saturday, because you were too hungover. Not Sunday, because Mark had church, and you, well, were busy praying to God that you would be able to finish all the work you’d neglected over the weekend as a result.

“I still don’t understand why you choose the worst day of the week for this,” you say over your Kale caesar salad, pushing the leaves around aggressively. The University had a lot of healthy options, which you were grateful for. Grateful for you were not, were for the student loans you had to pay off every month, the exorbitant amount you partially owed to all the local and expensive organic produce the meal plan featured for the sake of being sustainable and health conscious.You could really give a rat’s ass about whether your salad was organic or not; if your weekends said anything about you, no amount of kale could help you (or your liver).

“It wasn’t really up to me,” Mark points out. “Maybe if you weren’t too busy being-”

“Ta ta ta,” you tsk, waving a finger around. “I, unlike you, actually have a social life.”

Mark frowns. “I have a social life.”

Mark definitely had a social life. He was popular, even. As popular as you can be, being a preoccupied Pre-med with perfect grades. Mark is likeable. It’s not like he doesn’t have the opportunity to go on weekends if wanted to, he just chooses not to, deciding to slave away at biological functions, orbitals, and lab results instead. Even now, as he takes his glasses off to clean them, you notice the imprint they leave on his face from how long they’ve been sitting on his face, and doesn’t take you long to find the dark circles that grace the skin under his eyes: he’s exhausted.

You frown too. “You should really get out more Mark. You seem stressed.”

Mark gives you a small smile after putting his glasses back on, and then resumes typing on his laptop. “I don’t know how going out would make me less stressed,” he says, distracted. “I would only be more stressed, knowing the work I have to do.”

“Yeah, but you're pretty organized.” You point your fork at him accusingly, kale falling to the side. “Don’t you usually finish things early too?”

“Yeah, I do.” he admits, and before you can press onwards you’re interrupted by a girl you recognize to be his lab partner.

Goggles in hand, you can see the marks they leave around her eye area, but she’s somehow still annoyingly beautiful, with her glossy straight hair and long eyelashes, but that’s not why you dislike her. She might be the most stuck up girl you’ve ever met.

“Did you do the calculations yet?” she says, turning to Mark. ignoring you. It’s only when you cough in your seat that she turns to you. “And hello, (y/n).” An afterthought.

“Hello Yebin,” You give her a wry smile. “How's the lab?”

“The usual.” she glances at Mark, who seems to be doing some finishing touches on said calculations. “How’s Chem 2?”

Boy, does she really grind your gears.

“It was fine, I actually placed out because I took it in high school.” Not to mention, it was a class for freshmen, and you were in fact, now a sophomore.

Before she can say anything back, Mark claps his hands in celebration. “Done! Sorry it took me so long, I just had to double check some things.”

“It’s no problem,” and with the way her voice drips with a sickly sweetness, you want to gag. It’s so painfully obvious. “Are you still down for tomorrow?”

Poor Mark, always oblivious, stops typing on his laptop and looks up in confusion. “Huh?”

You silently laugh at the expression Yebin makes when she realizes Mark has no idea what she’s talking about. “For our study session? The MCAT is just months away.”she reminds him.

Mark remembers. “Oh yeah, about that, I was thinking we could also invite-”

“Great!” she chirps, “See you tomorrow!” and with a flash of her white lab coat, she's gone.

Mark scratches the back of his head. “I guess she had somewhere to be.”

You roll your eyes for what it seems like the 100th time this week, anymore and they might be permanently stuck to the back of your head. “She definitely likes you.”

“Who? Yebin? No way.”

“Yes, Yebin, and yes way.” You fling a walnut from your salad over to his side, and he cringes.

“What is your problem?” he grumbles, and resumes typing on his laptop.

You drop the subject, because you know any talk on girls is completely lost on him. As you set aside your salad, you peer over at Mark, palm supporting your face. He’s focused, eyebrows slightly furrowed, with his lips mouthing over silently whatever science journal he was reading on his computer screen.

Mark has always been good looking, you think. You don’t know why you’ve never really noticed it before. His nose bridge gently slopes over his face, and his jawline is sharp, having lost his baby cheeks years ago. He works out often too, although he barely talks about it (maybe out of fear you’d tease him for being a gym bro). And with the way he’s so adorably awkward, It’s no surprise really, that every girl friend that you’ve met of his seems to be completely smitten.

Shaking your head, you snap out of it. It’s dangerous to think of Mark that way, you think. You’ve known him too long.

“My problem? I think you’re the one with the problem here. I’m surprised your hair isn't completely gray by now.”

Mark ignores you, probably mad at the fact you tried to start world food war three with him with a walnut.

“Hey.” you flick at his forehead to get his attention, and he flinches.

“There’s a party this weekend at Johnny’s fraternity, you should come.” Johnny, being both your long time mutual friend (who’s demeanor is way too nice to fit the stereotypical frat boy image, really) who has since stopped asking Mark out of respect for his “med school grind”.

“I’m already planning on it,” he responds, and you’re surprised.

“Since when do you actually accept party invitations?”

“Since yesterday, because I’m tired of Haechan bothering me about it.”

You silently cheer, of course, you expect nothing else from Haechan.

…

“I never knew it was so hard to get booze.”

“It’s not hard if you’re 21.”

Scoffing, you turn your head to face the boy across from you. As if he can feel the burn of your gaze on his forehead, Haechan stops typing on his Macbook and lifts his eyes to meet yours.

“No shit Sherlock, but last time I checked, we both weren’t 21.”

The sun had set a half an hour ago, and despite having spent the whole afternoon together, you and Haechan have had yet to come up with a way to secure the drinks you promised your friends for tonight’s pregame. With both of you being certified schemers representing your respective friends, you guess it wasn’t that big of surprise that the responsibility was left on both your shoulders. It beat scavenging alone, and spending time with Haechan wasn’t so bad either, when you two weren’t trying to kill each other.

It was already late, and Haechan had deemed Ubering to the nearest packer store that sold Soju (the sweet sweet liquid of choice) was too much work. You on the other hand, had dismissed that option for a completely different reason. The issue in question was the flimsy, borderline pathetic excuse for a fake ID Haechan planned to use at the packer store.

“Hey it works!” he protested. “You just act like you’re already legal and they don’t even card you. Easy.”

You roll your eyes as Haechan theatrically reenacts his last trip to the packer store.

“I asked him how he was doing, and he told me school sucks. I say to him, ‘Tell me about it, thank god this is my last year!” and as if to emphasize his next point, he flicks his wrist in the air, ID snuggled between his index and middle finger. “And I was on my way. No issue at all.”

“That’s because he didn’t even see your fake I.D stupid. He would’ve called you out on your bullshit in an instant.”

Out of all the different options available, you could not fathom why he chose his fake ID to show that from all the places in this world, he was from freaking Hong Kong. There were fifty states to choose from, other English speaking countries, and he chose to pose as an international student on a student visa. He could most definitely look the part, but after looking at the ID he proudly slaps on the common room lounge desk, you deadpan. The yellowish tint to the card was way too suspicious to be taken seriously.

“I wish we could just ask Mark,” you sigh, and Haechan looks at you like you’re stupid.

“He’s 20, ya dimwit.”

“I know, that’s why I said I wish. You have serious hearing problems.”

Haechan stops typing on his laptop to shoot you an especially heated glare, and you’re reminded again why he’s #2 on your fight list, right above Yebin. First place was taken by the girl you almost actually fought at that one University party a town over, wherever she is you hope she’s having a terrible day.

“If it were not for the rules of this land, you’d be dead right now Haechan.”

Haechan places his head in his palms, and flutters his eyelashes disgustingly.

“But you love me.”

“Yes, as much as Mark loves social events. Speaking of Mark, how on earth did you get him to leave his cave?”

“It didn’t take much,” and before you can call him out for lying, he shushes you.

“Okay, maybe a few days of nonstop begging.” Haechan says as his eyes dart across the laptop screen. You raise your eyebrow. “And I might have threatened to release pictures from the photoshoot his mom made him take when he was younger.”

“I expected nothing less from your evil, evil, mind.”

He scoffs. “Hardly. Just resourceful.”

Resourceful he is, because Haechan is the one who ends up finding a plug for the alcohol that night.

…

A can of four loko, a bottle of soju, and a few shots later, you should be hammered, wasted even. But after 14 months, 2 weeks, and 5 days into college, your tolerance is pretty high, so you’re really just plain drunk. Even so, you’re a little messy (no surprise). You’re not in a state to be trusted with any errands, so you don’t understand why Haechan asks you to pick up Mark along the way to Johnny’s fraternity.

“Why do I have to do it?” you whine, putting your hand over your forehead, and Haechan only laughs at your dramatic display of despair.

“Because Johnny messaged me that Mark isn’t there, and there’s no way in hell I’m letting him flake on me this time. ”

You point a finger at him, and he stifles a snort when you’re off by a couple inches. “Letting him flake on me, me, me as in you! It’s not my problem.”

But there’s no use in arguing with Haechan, and you know it. That’s why you find yourself stomping your way up the second floor of Mark’s dormitory like you’re in elementary school again, having just been scolded by your mom and being forced back into your room.

You knock at his door impatiently, and it feels like forever until you hear some shuffling, and see the door knob twist open. To be honest, it’s probably just a few seconds, but time is different when you’re intoxicated.

Before you even see him, it smells faintly of shampoo and detergent, so you’re not surprised when he opens the door and you see his hair is still half wet from the shower. He’s definitely party ready, and when you mean party ready, he’s wearing the same loose black tee and grey joggers he wears to sleep. His socks don’t match and you try not to laugh, because it would be a bad look for you, to show up intoxicated, and apparently crazy.

“Oh (y/n), what are you doing here? Oh shit is today Friday? I totally forgot, Haechan is going to kill me-'' He looks at you and then pauses, scrunching up his nose. “Have you been drinking?”

“No.” you say sarcastically, but it definitely falls short of Mark because he looks at you like he does not believe you. Good, because he shouldn’t.

He sighs, and ushers you in his room. It’s dark, with the only light emitting from the little steel lamp on his desk, which is covered with his notes, pencils, a textbook, and some highlighters. When you finally make your way to his bed (with difficulty) he sighs again, and you silently scold yourself for having that mini drinking contest with Haechan. If you thought you could handle your alcohol well, Haechan was an absolute monster.

You nearly screech when Mark flashes a mini flashlight in your face, and he tells you to calm down before someone thinks he’s committing murder. He holds your face still with his index finger resting on your cheek and his thumb lifting your chin. You try your best not to squint when he tells you to, instead focusing on his face. He’s so close, you can feel his warm breath on your face. If you weren’t already so flushed from drinking, you suspect you’d look beet red now.

“Well, your pupils still dilate normally, so I don’t think you have alcohol poisoning-”

The world is moving a little, so you plop backwards on his bed— albeit a little harder than expected because he rushes over to you and looks concerned.

“-but I don’t think that’s the problem here.” he finishes.

Your eyes are closed, mainly because his bed is really comfy. “I’m here to pick you up.” and as if to emphasize your point, you wildly start pointing in all directions, hoping it would land on him.

You open your eyes when you feel him grab your finger and turn it thirty degrees to the left, just stopping at his chest. Your sense of direction must be really bad, because it turns out you were pointing at nothing.

“I don’t think we’re going anywhere for awhile”

“Noooooo” you wail, and Mark lets go of your hand to sit back down on his desk, and unsurprisingly, begins reading his textbook again. How he is able to focus with you in the background, you don’t know, but it must have taken years of practice.

At this point, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You shove yourself off the bed and grab his arms from behind him. His roller chair scoots a few inches before he stops it.

“You’re not exactly making great case for yourself here”

“Stop making excuses!”

You aim straight towards the armpits, and you’re confused at the lack of reaction, so you reach over to squeeze his knee. Almost immediately, he crumples over, almost falling off the chair.

“Can you-” he says mid laugh, “please” he gasps, “Stop that!”

You respond by attacking his other knee, and it’s over. He falls off his chair and you go down with him. The difference is that he recovers quickly, and starts tickling you back in revenge.

You’re sensitive, so it feels like you’re dying. You try to use his arm as leverage to push yourself up, but next thing you know he’s toppeling over you. You close your eyes and wait for your head to kiss the cold hard floor but it never comes, because Mark's hand cradles your head, breaking the fall.

When you open your eyes, he’s closer than ever before, noses touching. Lips a mere centimetres away and in a weird embrace, you resist the urge to close the distance.

Mark has always been good looking, especially now, so close to you. You don’t know why you’ve never noticed it before.

When he pulls away he’s flustered, and for the first time, so are you.

It’s an awkward silence, with you still on the floor as he stands up, rubbing the dusk from his knees. He scratches the back of his head and offers you a hand

“Let’s head out,” he says.

“Yeah, let’s.” you echo.

…

Although Haechan berates you for being more than a little late to the party, he’s overjoyed that you somehow managed to show up with Mark. Not that he didn’t have faith in you anyways, he tells you. It’s just that Mark is married to his Biology textbook, and she runs a tight ship. By the time you reached the frat with Mark, you’ve sobered up enough to enjoy yourself normally,

It’s when you wake up in the morning, that you’re not okay. It’s not okay, because you dreamt of Mark, and that’s weird, because you and Mark were just friends, right? And you always will be.

It’s not a big deal because friends dream of friends. Dreams are a product of your own desires environment, you tell yourself, it’s perfectly normal because you spend so much time with him.

What is not normal, is when you see Mark the following Monday, and are worried about it. You’re nervous the whole time, and it gets worse when you slide the little watermelon filled tupperware container across the table in apology for last Friday. He likes his watermelon cut up into little cubes, you remembered (why do you remember?), and you avoid his eyes, pushing a stray piece of hair behind your face.

Mark, oblivious as usual, doesn’t really notice anything until 10 minutes in, as if your lack of rambling surprises him. Munching on the cubes, he asks if you’re okay.

“Yeah, I am.”

No you are not. You are utterly fucked.

…

“But you need to promise me you won’t judge or make fun of me for it”

“Just say it already, Jesus.”

“It’s just so embarrassing.”

“Oh my god, are you in love with me?”

“No!”

When placing your hands in your face, Haechan grants mercy on you, patting you on the back instead of teasing you further.

“I don’t know what else could be so important that you need to talk to me in person. Unless…. it’s about Mark?”

His hands stop soothingly rubbing your back and instead starts slapping it, waiting for you to laugh along with him. When he doesn’t get a response he gasps. Turning his head sideways to face you, he pries your fingers apart.

“No fucking way.”

“Right?” you moan.

“I was just joking, but I can’t say I didn’t expect it.”

You remove your hands from your face and look at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Like, you’ve known each other forever. You spend a lot of time together too. Someone was bound to catch feelings eventually.”

You don’t respond, instead choosing to sulk.

“You know I’m right. You just don’t want to admit it because you’re the loser in this situation.”

Right he is, because you’ve been avoiding Mark for the past few weeks like the plague. You’ve told him that you’ve been busy with your final term paper (you’re not, you’re an engineering major why would you have one?), and although he was a little confused, he was probably also a little thankful because the MCAT was only a month away.

As you tell him about your plight, Haechan listens thoughtfully, “mhming” and “ahh-ing” at all the right places.

“I don’t see how ignoring him helps you at all. I would say to just talk to him about it, but it’s Mark, he probably hasn’t thought about you that way at all.”

“Thanks,” you grumble. “So I’m basically one of the boys.”

“No really, mans might as well be the anemone from Nemo, I’ve never seen him interested in anyone.” Haechan sighs. “This is a tough one.”

“I’m sure I’ll think of something, but I might have to get creative.”

“I’d like to see you try Hyuck.”

…

It’s 9pm Sunday night, and there’s a knock on your door. It’s strange you think, because it’s a Sunday, and it’s a little late to be doing anything.

When you open the door, there he is, Mark Lee in all his 5’9’ glory, with a little bag in hand, in it your favorite milk tea.

“It’s Sunday.” you say, intelligently.

Mark just chuckles. “Yes it is, and your point?”

You step aside so he can walk in, and you’re embarrassed at your current state. For once, you’ve finished your assignments early, so you’ve spent the past four hours in your pajamas watching K-dramas and snacking on honey chips. You must look like a bum.

Mark on the other hand, always looks good, even in some old dress slacks, and an old t-shirt with some holes in it. He smells faintly of antiseptic, so he must have just come from a volunteering shift at the hospital.

“It’s nice of you to drop by,” you poke the straw into the bubble tea. “And thank you for the bubble tea.”

“You’ve been busy recently so I figured you’d need it for the caffeine content, but it’s not like you sleep anyway.” he jokes. “How’s the term paper going?”

“The term paper? Oh right, the term paper. It’s alright,” you lie. “Just a couple of pages left. Beats having to take the MCAT though.”

Mark looks tired, with his hair slightly overgrown and his dark circles hallower than usual. You feel bad—he has a habit of overworking himself; you’re usually there to check on him but lately you haven’t, and he’s kind and thoughtfull enough to bring you something because he thinks you’re stressed.

“Yeah tell me about it,” Mark takes a seat next to you on your bed, head hitting the wall with a soft thump. “It’s going to be all over next week though, I can’t wait. I’ve missed you though.”

Busy silently cursing at yourself for the way your heart flutters at his admission, you forget to respond. Mark frowns, places his hand on your thigh in an attempt to soothe you, and it has the opposite effect—you think you might go into cardiac arrest.

“Is something wrong?”

“N-no.” you stammer. “Just stressed. ”

Mark makes things worse by leaning in closer, gently placing the back of his hand on your forehead. “You’re kinda hot.”

“I am?”

“Yeah, like I think you may be running a fever.”

He hops off the bed, and rummages around in his little black bag, and pulls out a thermometer. He places a little sleeve on the end, and motions for you to open your mouth. When it beeps, he takes it out of your mouth and looks at the result.

“Your temperature is fine, but you should rest. I’ll see you soon okay?” He pats your head. “Take it easy, I know you’ll do great.”

…

You might not have a term paper, but what you do have is a physics final.

The desk area is littered with eraser dust, crumpled paper, and half filled styrofoam cups of coffee that have since gotten stale. You swear to god that Physics was a subject meant to torture, not enrich the lives of college students. At this rate, you were seriously debating dropping out to become a stripper.

Haechan, not sensing your dismay, disrupts your plans to drop out by telling you something that puts a damper on the rest of your day, as if Physics wasn’t doing that already.

“Have you noticed that Mark’s been hanging out a lot with that one girl lately? What’s her name? So-bin, Yee-ben, Ben 10, ”

“Yebin,” you snap. “And don’t ever disrespect Ben 10 like that again. ”

Haechan lifts his hands up, “ I agree she’s a total bitch, but man is she hot.”

“Aren’t you supposed to make me feel better, not worse?”

Haechan’s face softens and for once in his life, looks a little sorry. “All I’m saying is if you don’t do something soon, someone might do it for you. I overheard her saying something about her and Mark going to spring fling together.”

He’s not wrong, but Mark, at Spring fling? At a Darty? Willingly? His idea of a good time was studying.

“You’re kidding,” you scoff. “As if he’d be caught dead at something like that.”

“I don’t know (y/n). He doesn’t really have much else to do now that the MCAT is over.”

Right, the MCAT. He took it last week. You mentally slap yourself for not asking how it went.

“Speak of the devil.” Haechan says quietly, motioning behind you.

There she is through the glass, Yebin, pulling a seat next to Mark, not before sneaking up behind him and planting a fat kiss right on his cheek.

…

Maybe if this were a movie, you’d cry all weekend and he’d make it up to you; But this is real life, so you secretly cry for a week and sulk for the rest of the month, blaming your puffy eyes on seasonal allergies (In real life, Mark can’t make it up to you because he did nothing wrong. He’s also not even aware that you like him, but that’s besides the point).

Despite Haechan’s attempt to convince you that it could’ve been just a friendly kiss, a greeting kiss, a whatever kiss, you insist that you’re done with your little crush, that it had shriveled up and died. Although not so convinced, Haechan drops the subject all together and instead resorts to comforting you in his own way, which mainly just consists of making fun of you about other things.

Mark is a touchy subject, and you’re still avoiding him. Why? You don’t really know. You know it’s not fair to Mark, who is probably very hurt and confused at your lack of communication. Nonetheless, he doesn’t question it, and is so infuriatingly mature with his emotions that you suspect that he even respects it, because he stops texting you after a while.

You feel bad about stonewalling him, leaving him in the dark, but really, what would you say to him?

“Sorry-I-haven’t-been-talking-to-you-it’s-just-that-I’m-in-love-with-you-and-I’m-butthurt-that-you-have-a-girlfriend-of-course-it’s-not-really-your-fault-but-”

You shudder at the thought, because it’s just plain embarrassing.

But really, you’re not the best at expressing your emotions—you’ve never been. Frankly, you’re tired of expressing your emotions because it never got you anywhere. Not with your mom, not with your dad, and definitely not with Yuta, who you dated for a year and half a year just to dump you like you were nothing.

It’s not worth it, to put your emotions on the line for anyone, not anymore. You locked your heart away a long time ago, and you were a fool to let it come out last time, and you like to think you learn from your mistakes.

At least, that’s what you think, until you return home one Sunday night from the library and see a little cup of your favorite milk tea at the door, with a straw neatly balanced on the top.

…

When spring fling rolls around, you still haven’t spoken to Mark, and if your friends catch on, they don't mention it. They know by now that you prefer to deal with things alone, to digest them for what they are and then promptly moving on—you know, like processing a death.

It doesn’t really matter, you think. You and Mark have always been friends, and will always be friends. Nothing more, nothing less. And when you get over yourself, things will be fine.

But really, how can it be fine when your whole world stops every time Mark looks at you?

You try not to dwell on it, even now weeks later. You’re busy getting ready to go out, blotting your lipstick on some tissue paper in your friend Yuna’s bathroom.

“(y/n), you look amazing.”

When you turn to look at yourself in the mirror she’s right; The mascara you put on your lashes really brings out the color of your eyes, and your skin (thanks to Yuna’s highlighter compact) is literally glowing. You feel really pretty.

You turn to smile at her. “Thanks to you.” you tell her, and she gets bashful, pushing you out of the seat and ushering you out the door. You make it down stairs no problem, but she calls you as soon as you walk out the door.

“Yes, I have blotting papers with me, and no, I am not dating Haechan I’ve told you thousands of times-”

“What about me?”

You turn around to find Haechan leaning against the dormitory wall, already waiting.

Embarrassed, you tell her you need to go and hang up the phone.

“How long have you been standing here? Hopefully not too long.” You apologize, but he assures you it’s all right.

“Are you sure your friends are fine with you leaving them early to go with me?”

“Yes Haechan, they’re just happy that I have someone to go with.” you sigh. “Almost too happy.”

He laughs, after looking at you, he pauses. “You look nice.”

“You do too, Hyuck.”

If you didn’t know any better, you would say he seems embarrassed at your compliment.

When you walk into the venue, you’re not surprised at how spacious it is. You’re used to your school going all out, from the kale salads and now, spring fling. They might as well call it spring semi-formal, because everyone is dressed their best.

You see Johnny at the end of the punch table, and he waves, motioning for you two to join him.

“And my favorite couple,” he greets you two, and you almost smack him upside down the head.

“Relax, I’m just kidding.” and he leans in for a hug. “How are you (y/n), I haven’t seen you in a second.”

“I’m good, just been super busy. You were so right, Professor Kim has been really keeping me on my toes in Physics 430,” you laugh. “Every time I walk into the classroom I can feel my life flash through my very eyes.”

He laughs, and you all laugh with him. Johnny tends to have that kind of effect on people.

“How’s Mark?” he asks, and you cringe. “It’s been a while.”

You laugh nervously “ I haven’t seen him in a while either.”

“Oh really. Don’t you see each other every week?”

“Well we used to,” you panic. “Just not anymore because, you know, I-”

“Because you’ve been so busy,” Haechan finishes.

Johnny gives you two a strange look but continues talking anyway.

“Well that’s life. Poor boy’s been studying for the MCAT like his rent is due tomorrow.”

“More like everyday.” Haechan snickers.

Johnny doesn’t hesitate to flame Haechan for his insolence, and begins teasing him for almost failing Calc II (Calc II was kind of hard you admit but that is an admission that will die with you), meanwhile, you’re whisked away by Yuna and her entourage. You glance at Johnny and Haechan, who bid you farewell with a nod of their heads.

It’s fun, you’re having a great time dancing, and eating mini hot dogs on a toothpick (you guess your university had to cut corners somewhere). When Roxanne plays, you and Yuna go wild, nearly knocking over a waiter over with a silver tray. You have so much fun, that you forget that Mark Lee exists until you make eye contact across the floor.

It's no surprise that he’s with Yebin, who looks annoyingly prettier than usual, with her makeup all done and satin dress. She’s pulling him in the opposite direction, but Mark seems to pay no mind, instead staying in place, looking at you. A moment passes, and you see him excusing himself. When he begins to head your direction. You panic.

Before you can even react, you feel an arm wrap around your waist, pulling you close. When you finally turn to see who it is, you’re nose to nose with none other than Haechan.

“What are you doing?”

“Just go along with it,” Haechan whispers through his teeth. Your hands are pressed against his chest, and he grabs one of your arms, placing it around his neck.

“Go along with what? Have you lost your mind-”

Before you can finish your sentence, his lips press against yours and your mind goes blank. He tastes like peppermint and aftershave, with his lips soft in the center and just a little chapped around the edges.

When you two finally part, Mark is nowhere to be found, and you don’t know how to feel.

“Haechan I-” you stammer. “I need to go.”

You hurry off, and he doesn’t follow you.

…

When you’re outside, it’s cold; the air is brisk and definitely doesn’t help steady your breathing, it only makes it harder. It’s a lot to process, Mark, Yebin, Haechan. It’s a lot, and you feel like you’re in emotional overdrive, with all the feelings you’ve been trying to keep in for the past few months coming back to bite you.

You sit down at the edge of the fountain outside the venue, and you nearly get soaked. It misses you by mere inches, with the ceramic fish looking at you almost mockingly. You don’t care, with all the thoughts running through your head right now, you think you might go insane.

You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting there at the fountain when you feel something wrap around you, warm like it was just taken out of the dryer. It smells familiar, like cologne and faintly of antiseptic—it smells like Mark.

You don’t look at him when he sits down next to you, legs open, hands crossed. And he doesn’t look at you. It’s radio silent.

“So you and Haechan, huh.”

“So you and Yebin.” you echo.

Mark looks at you for the first time, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Oh that.” He shuffles awkwardly. “I don’t really like her like that.”

Your head raises in surprise, and you face each other for the first time in months.

“I thought you guys had a thing.”

Mark scratches the back of his head. “Well we do, but it’s just in her head” he says, and you can’t help but laugh. “She came onto me last week, so I finally set things straight.” Noticing your reaction, he just shakes his head.

“I don’t think it worked though,” he adds.

“I would think, you’ve always been too nice for your own good.”

“I just didn’t want to hurt her feelings, you know?” he murmurs. “I feel terrible.”

“You’re not a terrible person just because you don’t like someone back.”

“Maybe not, but I believe not wanting you and Haechan to be together does.”

It takes a moment for his words to register within you, and even after you process them, you’re not sure what to say.

“We don’t like each other like that.” you interrupt him.

Mark looks visibly confused. “Then you and Haechan aren’t??” his voice falters.

“No more than you and Yebin. I promise you it’s not what it seems like.” you tell him and it finally clicks. You’d have to thank the idiot later. Right after you slap him.

Mark doesn’t question it, not even when you start crying. You don’t question it either, unsure of why you’re crying.

“You’re so stupid,” you sniffle. “I’ve liked you for so fucking long.”

Mark pulls out his pocket square to gently wipe the tears from your face, and places his hand on top of yours.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that? You could have just said something.” his says softly

“I didn’t want to ruin anything. We’ve always just been friends.”

“I think we’ve always been just more than that.” he says, leaning in, hands cup your face gently.

“Just took some of us a little longer to realize.”

....

“That was very nice of you,” Johnny says.

“Yeah. Very nice.” Haechan echos.

“How long has it been, that you’ve liked her for? Three years?”

“Two going on three.”

Johnny lets out a low whistle, and looks down at the younger boy worriedly. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

Haechan glances at you and Mark through the glass, outside the venue. With Mark whispering in your ear and you laughing, you seem so happy; happier than you’ve ever been with him.

“Yeah, I am. More than okay.”

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hlupdate · 4 years

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In a never-before-published 2012 interview, Harry Styles and Niall Horan talk about their childhoods, the future of One Direction, and much more

In the spring of 2012, I spent a few entertaining days hanging out with the five young members of a British boy band who were just breaking big in the United States. The guys from One Direction were unjaded, unguarded, totally charming, and a puppy pile of optimism and energy. On April 8th, in a New York City hotel room, an 18-year-old Harry Styles and 16-year-old Niall Horan sat down with me for a joint interview, published here for the first time. (The reporting was intended for a Rolling Stone cover story that never ran.)

It was late morning, and they had both just rolled out of bed. Styles wore a hotel bathrobe; Horan, with braces still on his teeth, was in sweatpants, a T-shirt, and a Dallas Mavericks hat a fan had given him during a recent trip to Texas. The conversation was casual, full of laughs, and focused on their formative years.

What did you do at the gym last night? Harry: One of our security guys, his friend’s over, he’s a personal trainer, so I was working with him, and he ripped me to shreds.

In 12 hours, you have to do Saturday Night Live. Are you ready? Harry: Yeah, I think so. I think it’s going to be a fun day. It’s just really exciting, obviously. The show is so huge. For us to get the opportunity to be on it at all was just amazing, and to us, to be performing and just be involved with the show is amazing.

Have you seen whole episodes of it? Harry: I’ve watched a lot of clips on YouTube. They don’t show it in the U.K.

Growing up, when did you realize you could sing or that you wanted to sing? Harry: I sang in primary school, like the school productions, plays and stuff.

What was your first one? Harry: The first one was…I was five, and there was a story about a mouse who lived in a church, and I was Barney, the mouse. I had to wear my sister’s tights, and a headband with ears on it, and I had to sing a song all by myself. I remember it was just like, whatever…in the second, I was Buzz Lightyear in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, so you know when they run and hide in the toy shop? Buzz Lightyear was in the toy shop, so they just created my character. The last one, I was in…you know Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat? I was the pharaoh, but I was an Elvis pharaoh.

Did you have a sense that this is what you wanted to do in your life? Harry: I think in school, I was OK, I wasn’t a bad student. I think I just knew I wanted to entertain people and stuff. I was a bit of an attention-seeker at school.

Niall: Me, too. I just talked too much, sang too much.

You were onstage as a kid and were like, “This is what I like”? Harry: I knew it was fun, I had a lot of fun doing it, and I stopped when I started high school, and then I didn’t really do anything, I just sang at home, in the shower, in your bedroom, that type of thing. I guess it started again when my friends were in a band and they wanted to do this battle of the bands competition that was at school, and they needed a singer, and one of my friends asked me.

What did you sing? Harry: We sang “Are You Gonna Be My Girl” by Jet, and “Summer of ’69.” We did it more towards the Bowling For Soup version.

How about you, Niall? Niall: I always knew I wanted to sing. I was academic…I was one of those people that if I’m not interested in something, I don’t really care. If I’m not interested in school, I would have never trained or done my homework or anything, I’d have just gone outside and played football or whatever.

Harry: [helpfully translating] Soccer.

Niall: So I always wanted to sing. I was singing here and there, not gigs or anything, but I always sang around the house or whatever, and I played Oliver in a school play. And then I just did that, and people told me I should do something…I was only 10, what could I do at 10? I just did a couple of gigs, and when I got to high school, they told me that I should just try out for The X-Factor.

Who told you? Niall: My French teacher. We used to do talent shows and stuff at school, she was like, “You should do it,” so I did it.

What did that entail? What were the steps from being a kid in high school to getting on the show? Niall: It was the final of The X-Factor the year before, and at the end credits of the final, it says, “If you want to apply for 2010, go online,” so a couple of weeks later, I said, “Right, I’m going to do it,” and I filled in the form online, we were sending emails back and forth, going to this place at this time. The first one is at a big stadium, then if you get through that, you come back the next day. Is that the way they did it with you?

Harry: I had to wait a little bit, I think.

Niall: I was there at five a.m., I got seen at 12, and I was out of there by quarter past 12, and the next day I came back at 10 in the morning. You get through the first round, then they do a round where they don’t tell you if you got through after that.

Harry: They film it.

Niall: The producer and someone from the label. They film it and show it to whoever. Then if you got through that, it takes about two or three weeks until you find out. I was in Spain. Then you just go through the audition.

Harry, how did you wind up on X-Factor? Harry: I basically said, the same as Niall, I was watching the year before, and I remember looking at the young guys on there, and I was kind of like, “I’d love to have a go at it just to see what happens,” and that was kind of it. My mum actually did the application, and then three weeks later, I walked upstairs and she said, “Oh, you’ve got your X-Factor audition Sunday,” and I was like, “OK.”

Niall: In England, it’s the biggest thing ever. It took a while to build.

Harry: The two or three years were steady, and third or fourth, it just blew up.

Niall: It works that one in three people in the UK watch it. There’s 60 million people in the UK, and 21 million people watched the final the year we were in it.

Harry, your band also played at least one wedding right? Harry: Yeah. We actually said that we’d do the wedding gig, and…

Niall: You get paid for it?

Harry: Yeah. 160 quid, between all four of us. 40 quid each…we said we’d do it, and then we found out it was the weekend coming up, and we hadn’t done anything for it, so we asked the bride what kind of stuff she wanted, and she said she didn’t mind, but she wanted some Bob Marley songs. Literally in three days, not even three, probably two days, we learned like 25 songs. We might have known like three of them before. I was 16, maybe 15, singing these Bob Marley songs. There was a girl a couple of years below us, and it was her mum, she said she wanted us to play.

Niall: Can you imagine you’re at a wedding and you have 16-year-old kids up on the stage?

Maybe you were really good! Harry: Yeah, the drummer is one of my best friends from school, he’s a sick drummer, he’s so good.

Did you think the band could be something? Harry: A bit. My friend’s mum was a radio presenter, and she did a radio show for a bit, so she was trying to sort us out a little bit of studio time, we were going to go in and record.

What do your parents do? Harry: My mum is a PA. My dad is a financial adviser.

How about you? Niall: My dad works at a supermarket, he’s the head manager, general manager of an area, not just one, and my mum is unemployed now, so I try to help them out whenever I can.

You probably can. That must be nice. Niall: Yeah, it’s nice, it’s good.

Plus, now you can tell them what to do. Harry: [laughs] “Now you go to bed.”

Were you happy as kids? Did you have adolescent angst and stuff? Did you go through depressed periods? Harry: Not really. I think at one point, I started acting like I was…I had a phase of listening to really heavy music.

Niall: I never went through that.

Harry: Not stupid heavy, but a bit… just because I thought it was cool.

Like what? Harry: Like Nirvana T-shirts, wore black all the time, pretty much.

Were you pretty happy go-lucky? Niall: Yeah, I was always happy. I think me and Harry were lucky. Our parents got divorced quite early, didn’t they, when we were really young. I was four, I didn’t know much, so I was always a happy kid, always up for a laugh, very carefree, and I’m a bit like that now.

Did you both grow up in your moms’ houses? Harry: Yeah.

Niall: I went between both, my mum moved to the country and I didn’t have any interest in it. I always felt like the country is for when you’re older. I was with my mom for a while but got bored, all my friends were in town, I went to school in town and all that stuff. It was more like that.

Harry: I lived with both parents, and then moved with my mum, and we owned a pub for like five years. I remember the first night, it was like a night where a band was playing, and I just thought, “How am I going to get to sleep?” I was three stories up, I was like, “How am I going to get to sleep with this noise?” I was next to a road in Sussex in the middle of nowhere, and by the end, I could fall asleep next to the band, I was so used to the noise.

Was it imprinting your brain? Harry: Maybe. One of the guys who used to play every so often, he used to be in Deep Purple or something… He started teaching me guitar when I was like 10, I think 10, maybe nine. I loved it. I was 10, 11, all of the regulars, I got on with them. I’d walk behind the bar and my head would barely go over the bar. It’s still going now. We sold it to my best friend, we go in all the time still.

People say you come off as more mature than your age, you come off wiser. Did hanging around all those people as a kid help you mature?

Harry: I don’t know, maybe. I moved when I was seven or eight from Cheshire, and it was still Cheshire, but half an hour away, but in terms of not driving and stuff, all my friends lived near my school, so that was a bit further out. One of my friends there was my sister’s age, he was 16 when I was 10. It was so tiny, they were the only teenage boys…we’d ride our bikes and go to the driving range and stuff. It was good, it was fun.

You both wanted to entertain – if it hadn’t worked out, would you have been really unhappy? Harry: Yeah, I think it would be kind of like…one of the reasons you go for X-Factor in the first place is that you want to do this, and it kind of helps you get out of the life that you were doing before. I worked in a bakery for two years. Obviously, I didn’t want to do that for ages!

If you’d asked people at school, would they have said, “Yeah, they’re probably going to be famous,” or would they never have guessed that? Niall: My aunt, I was in the back of her car. We used to go across Ireland to go to the beach for a couple of weeks, and I remember we were in the car, I was singing, and she thought I was the radio, and she told me, I never forgot it, that she thought I was going to be famous since I was six, seven. She was the only person who told me that, so I always remembered that.

Harry: My dad said it. I used to listen to a lot of the music he was playing, he’d play Elvis Presley to death, the Stones, I’d sing along to that and he’d say, “You’re going to be famous,” or whatever. He came on tour with us for a few days out here, he came to the Radio City show. He just said, for him, it was so educational. Obviously, he hears about what happens when I call him, but to see it and see it actually happen and how everything works was so good for him, he really enjoyed it. So that was nice.

So you grew up on Elvis and the Stones? Harry: Yeah, pretty much. My dad was a massive Stones fan, so it was pretty much Beatles and Stones in terms of what my dad played.

People say you kind of look like Mick.

Niall: He gets that a lot.

Harry: I get it more here, probably, than I do at home. It’s because of the British thing.

What have you learned about life from the last few years, what didn’t you know? What advice would you give yourself? Niall: How much more independent we actually are – me, anyway. Your mum attends to your every need and does your food and washing and gives you somewhere to live. Then you go into the real world, as you’re told as a kid…

Harry: We’re living on our own now.

Niall: We just started living on our own in the last six months, really.

Harry: I’m moving when I get back.

Niall: We do our own washing, we make our own food, we rent places, we’re out on our own now. You mature so quick, you’re dealing with big businessmen every day, you’re not dealing with school, people your own age. It’s a bit different.

Harry: You seem to learn so many life lessons, but in such a short space of time. If I speak to my friends and they’re having problems with girls, whatever it is, now I seem to just have the answer. I don’t know, it’s just different. Or I think I have the answer. In terms of…one of my friends was trying to decide what to do with school, stuff like that, and I would have had no idea what to say to him before.

The last two years must feel like 10. Harry: Yeah, but at the same time, it feels like six months, it’s weird. X-Factor was two years ago, but it seems like five years ago, but at the same time, it’s gone so quick. It’s a really strange dynamic of how it feels.

Do you have a sense of how this is going to go? Does it matter if it’s two years, five years or forever? Harry: I think how much we all enjoy it, because we love what we do – if you have to call it a job, it’s an incredible job to have, and we love it. We’ll all want to do it for as long as possible. If we have the opportunity to have a Take That kind of career, I don’t see any reason why we wouldn’t want to do that. If we don’t, I don’t know…we’ve done some amazing things already, but we don’t want to stop there, we want to keep going. I guess if we didn’t, I think we’d probably want to still be involved in…I’d just write, I guess.

Do you want to act? It feels like you could have your own TV show. Harry: I think it would be more of a documentary, because obviously, we’re not actors.

People must want you to try. Niall: Watch tonight, tell us what you think. Watch SNL.

Will you all make solo albums? Is that inevitable? Harry: No, I don’t think so.

Niall: Let’s do a swing album!

Harry: [laughs] We’ll all do swing albums. We’re just so focused on this, we all feel so lucky just to be part of this opportunity that we’ve all been given, it’s incredible, we’re just loving it. It’s sick.

People make a lot of assumptions about people in your position. They think you’re puppets and do what you’re told. What do you do when people make those assumptions? Harry: When you look from the outside, especially if you’re a skeptic of groups made through TV shows, which is fair enough, people don’t see what we do on a daily basis, people don’t see…I think from the outside, it looks so glamorous, they see us do TV performances every now and again, see us doing an interview every now and again, but they don’t know that we work seven days a week.

Niall: If there was eight days, we’d fit it in.

Harry: It’s not as completely glamorous all the time, of course it’s not, it would be stupid to think that it would be, but it’s hard work.

Niall: You’ve got to remember that you’ve got people on your team that have been doing this for many years and have been through the mill. You have all that experience around you, even from our tour manager, who’s been doing this for 20 years, they know what’s right, but at the same time, we want to have creative control, because at the end of the day, it’s us stepping out onto the stage of SNL tonight and have to sing these songs. We want to be singing what we enjoy, as we said last night. The music we all listen to is what we try and blend together to make this One Direction sound.

Harry: We obviously want to make it authentic and have our say without going, “People say we don’t control it, so we need to take control.” We’re not…we haven’t been writing songs for 20 years, we’re not producers. We’ve got an incredible team around us. Luckily, we’ve been given a lot of freedom, so we don’t go, “OK, we just need more and more control,” because we have a lot of control already. I think we find a really good balance in the way we work with our record label and our management, and it’s just how we work together, I think.

In any case, it’s probably better than the bakery. Harry: Yeah. But I don’t get a nice bun on my break anymore, that’s the thing.

Did you wear an apron? Harry: Oh yeah, I wore a white polo shirt and a maroon apron with white stripes. “What would you like? 78 pence, thank you very much.”

Were you behind the counter? Harry: Yeah, I was behind the counter. It was good. It was Saturday morning, I started at five and finished at four in the afternoon and got like 30 quid, it was a joke.

Niall, did you have a job? Niall: No, never.

So this is your first job. Niall: Yeah, not bad at all. I was chilling, I was being a kid.

Harry: I had a paper route before that. It gave me a bad back, bad posture. It was a heavy bag.

I interviewed some fans downstairs, and asked if they knew who you were six months ago, and they all said yes, and a year ago…They were all early adopters, heard you from the Internet, watched X Factor on YouTube… Harry: It’s the internet. People have friends over here that might tell their friends and look on YouTube and show their friends. It’s insane how it’s blown up. We’ve had the opportunity to come over to America and do shows, and release our music over here, which is amazing. Through the power of social media, we already had a bit of a following before we’d ever been over here, we hadn’t done any shows. We had some fans out here, which was amazing, but weird, really strange. I don’t know, it’s gone crazy. We don’t really see loads of it. We do the shows, then we’re in hotels, then we fly somewhere else. We don’t see massive amounts of it, we just go with it. This whole thing has gone on, and it’s sick.

Do you ever feel anxious through all this? Harry: Yeah, I think, obviously, just naturally, you think about what’s going to happen in the future. We’re 18, 19, 20 years old, we’re young. I wouldn’t say anxious, we’re just excited most of the time, and having so much fun, that if stuff were to finish and you were to look back on your time and all you did the whole time throughout this amazing stuff was shitting yourself about what’s going to happen next, then it would just be…I think you have to enjoy it while it’s going on. I think you should be wary about the future, but not worrying about it all the time. We still enjoy it and have fun, but obviously, you do think, “What am I going to be doing in 20 years, 30 year?” I’ll have kids by then.

Harry, I saw a tabloid with pictures of everyone smiling, and you were looking thoughtful. Do you get down sometimes? While everyone else is having fun, do you start drifting off? Harry: No, I think I’m naturally…not everyone is happy all of the time. I think you always have times when…like when you’ve just landed off a really long flight or miss home or something. They got a picture of me where I wasn’t smiling. I usually smile, but they got one where I wasn’t smiling and used that, and then said I wasn’t happy. They did that for a few days, that’s when we were in L.A. last time. It goes with the morbid voice.

Ringo would say, “It’s just me face.” Niall: “Who’s that little old man?” [quoting Hard Day’s Night]

Harry: “That’s Paul’s grandfather. He’s very clean.”

Sometimes you can drift off, that’s just your thing. Harry: [laughs] I’m just soulful, man, I try.

Harry, do you mind when you’re singled out for attention? Harry: I don’t know. I don’t really…I don’t know. We’re a band. Everything we do is together. I don’t take much notice of it.

So you’re not the Justin. Harry: No.

Niall: J.C. was popular, too, wasn’t he?

It’s not like that for you guys. Harry: Not at all.

There was an imbalance in that group. Harry: I think we find it important that people get to know all of our individual personalities, because…

Niall: I think that’s what’s good about it, people see us as individuals as well as a band, we all have our own personality, and we all give something to a band. Previous bands, they go around and can never explain themselves, they can explain the band, but as individuals, what we bring to the band and stuff…

Harry: We all know that we all have our roles, and we all know that without one of us, it wouldn’t work.

#harry styles #niall horan #one direction #230720 #1d ten

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fieryhonesty · 3 years

Text

The life of You

[AO3]

“Writing battle scenes or overall action scenes will be the death of me, all I will say for today.”

Words: 2620

The sparring has happened a week later as Kaeya had to deal with his paperwork. Which he was neglecting for a while and Acting Grand Master was slowly running out of patience. Usually he wouldn't push his work this much. Yes, he is procrastinating. Paperwork is boring and he'd rather be in front lines. But for that there would have to be some kind of danger.

Ever since Aether has left Mondstadt, everything has become dull and boring. Not like he would like bad things to happen. No, he is a knight and thinking of hurting citizens was not on his list. Surely the Abyss Order is still active and sometimes one of their members appears. But that's usually solved even before the knights can arrive.

The Darknight Hero is surely having his own ways and information flow. Kaeya won't question him, he promised to himself to keep the secret and not bring it up under any circumstances. However it's quite interesting.

Back to the topic, he is bored to his wits. Aching for some action, action which does not entertain his hand only. The fact you agreed on the friendly spar was motivating him enough to actually finish the never ending paperwork.

The sparring would be happening on Friday but you had hands full of doing commissions. Coming home kinda tired and exhausted. He wanted to face you all rested up and there's no better day for it than Sunday morning.

You hate to wake up early in the morning during weekends, so you are a bit grumpy. Your morning hair is wild and it's hard to tame them but you somehow manage to tie them up into a messy bun. Splashing cold water on your face before heading back into your room to change.

Once you are all set up you head towards the Knights of Favonius training hall. The streets of Mondstadt are quiet as it's still pretty early. The sun is already up but most of the people sleep at this time. Why couldn't Kaeya come up with a normal time? Like it would matter if you fight at seven in the morning or ten.

You arrive at the training hall shortly after seven. Finding the bluenette in the middle of warm up. Perhaps you should have run here but it's too late now. Just a regular stretch will have to do. As soon as he noticed your presence he flashed you a grin.

He was looking forward to this. Unable to determine why exactly. Was it the longing to experience something you two used to do in the past during your trainee times? Or was it excitement to actually see and feel how much you improved?

Surely he had seen you using your sword with utmost elegance. It was like you were dancing with the blade. Being a silent spectator or ally on the field is different from facing your attacks. As he remembers your attacks back then were kinda clumsy and not so calculated. He always beat you, making you frustrated.

He walked past as you were in midst of your small warm up. Picking one of the dull training swords before looking back at you.

"What's with that gloomy face, dearest y/n? You are not happy to see me? That hurts my feelings!"

Putting hand on his chest as if he is really hurt, slightly gripping the fabric of his attire. He should be an actor, you think before narrowing your eyes at him. You can see through his flirty words. As if he doesn't know what's wrong. You want to go back to bed. Usually you would be sleeping a few more hours!

"Well I'm sorry? Part of me is still sleeping..."

Kaeya chuckles at your whining. Walks behind you and whispers: "Didn't know you'd like an audience."

You turn at him dumbfounded, tilting head to the side.

"Huh? Why do you think I would mind somebody observing us exchanging blows?"

His lips quirks. Considering if he should tease you or if it's too early in the morning.

You want to resume your warm up but then his hands land on your waist, tugging you closer. It takes you a couple of seconds to realize what's going on. As soon as his hot breath tingles your ear you want to wiggle out. It's not like you dislike it but first- you didn't expect it, second- weren't you supposed to spar?

"Kae-"

"You seem like you had forgotten the rules about sparring my dear friend."

What does sparring have to do with getting all of a sudden touchy? When you put your hand on his trying to push it away it slides down your hip where your vision is.

"No fatal blows, no attacks aimed at head, blood means stop and... no visions if you possess one."

He whispers, his lips were nearly brushing against your earshell giving you goosebumps. You gulp. He is right. It's been too long since you had any non life threatening fights just for fun. Thus you removed your vision only during nights. And even then it was close to you just in case.

You chuckle in embarrassment. Wanting to untie your orb but he stops you.

"Please, allow me."

"Ok?..."

Damn. For some reason you feel heat rushing your cheeks. Untying your vision felt like ages. You didn't notice you were holding your breath until he finally took a step away. Putting your cryo orb in a safe place.

Whenever Kaeya gets touchy he manages to raise your blood pressure. Usually it's just a friendly gesture like a hand on shoulder or something. When he wants to tease you he will rest his hand on your waist. However you can't forget that one time where it actually was useful.

Somebody has been bothering you. Refusing to retreat no matter what. You were hopeless as you didn't want to be rude but they seemed to ignore your wishes to leave you alone. Then Kaeya's hand swiftly wrapped around you, pulling you closer. Giving the guy a fake smile 'I'm sorry but it's rude to keep pressing on when the lady says no, please respect her wish.'

You were relieved when the guy actually left. Assuming he was bothering somebody's girl. Or at least that's what you would have thought too. The way Kaeya held you was really protective, telling everyone to back off.

You quickly waltzed towards the racks with weapons. Hoping he won't notice your flustered cheeks. The more you think of it the more you get embarrassed. At this point you are not sure if you are embarrassed from his act or from the way you are thinking. You thought you two are friends but why are you getting so easily flustered lately? This shouldn't be happening if you are just friends, right?

You close your eyes and exhale to calm down. You shouldn't be thinking like this. Kaeya's your childhood friend, of course you will have a special bond. You sort of grew up together and as kids you really didn't ponder about being touchy or not. Perhaps it's all alright, he is behaving like he is used to and it's you overthinking it.

Perhaps he just sees you as a friend and nothing more. You shouldn't really think of it or get flustered whenever he touches you elsewhere than your shoulder.

'It's all Yue's fault... her fantasies of me and guys are getting under my skin. Yup, that's it!'

Taking one of the swords. It's lighter than you are used to. Trying a few swings to get used to its weight. The sword feels so... fragile? You are actually worried if it won't break. Like yes you two won't go full force but still how do these not get destroyed?

Furrowing at the steel in your hand before glancing at your sparring partner.

"So, is Sticky Honey Roast sufficient?"

You see a brief confusion in his face.

"Why yes. Are you admitting defeat already?"

Tilting his head aside with an amused expression.

"Nah, I just want to know if we are battling for the same price. That's all. I'll kick your ass, Honey."

He chuckles at the nickname. Now you are speaking his language.

Both of you move into the center ring, bowing to each other. You are first on the attack. Once again your attacks are quick but Kaeya seems not to have any issues to parry them. Slowly backing towards a corner. Better not let your ego take better of you. He is probably just testing what you can do.

And you were right. When his back touched the wall his eyes narrowed, a glint flashed through them. Switching from defense to attack. Now he is making you back off. You are back in the ring, ducking to the side trying to land a hit. It gets parried and immediately followed by a swing of his own blade.

You have been observing him when you happened to fight together. His attacks are always calculated and aimed at weak spots of his enemy. They are elegant. You have to admit he is a truly elegant swordsman. His style is stunning, yet it can be dirty. When you don't expect it he knocks you down. You roll to side away from him. He quickly follows but you are back on your feet, blocking his attack.

"Hmm, getting knocked down early."

"Don't get cocky now. You might find yourself licking the dust very soon."

You retort. Break from the encounter and swing from your right. As he is right handed as well, his left is pretty much unprotected. To your surprise he quickly passes the sword to his left, just in time to block your blow.

Flashing you a quick confident smirk. He has actually enough strength to push you. Attacking with his left hand. You feel the blows are a bit weaker but still you are amazed by the fact he can use the weapon as efficiently as in his right hand.

Trying to land a hit but neither can manage it. As good as your attacks are, your defenses are not faltering behind. You get a bit frustrated by it. You really want that dinner. It will feel good to stuff your face with your reward.

It's early in the morning, you are already sweating and your belly is empty. It's hard not to think of food right now. You deflect one of his blows aimed at your abdomen. Taking a step aside.

"This is kind of fun."

"It sure does bring back old memories~"

He agrees, shooting you a genuine smile before making another step to attack. This one is actually stronger than any previous ones, making you stagger. You huff, mildly annoyed by the fact none of you has landed a hit and he can still use this much power.

Your body is getting tired. There is no way to tell how much time has passed but it feels like at least a couple of minutes. You are both sweating. Yet none of you is willing to let the other win.

You dash at him with high speed, your swords are loudly clashing. Another couple of hits exchanged. With every blow they get weaker. You are out of breath. Your hold weakens. Kaeya seizes the opportunity and disarms you. The sword flies away. You are heavily breathing and stare at the bluenette. Your arm is still in position as if you were to attack but you can't.

He points his sword at you and grins. He won. Again. Just like when you were younger. This brings up some deja vu feeling. You drop on your knees with a loud sigh.

"My dinner..."

Now you are hungry for real. The victory was so close! Looking up at him, he is as much done as you. His shoulders are rising and falling up quickly. Sweat rolling down his face, his attire is literally soaked. You were this close to seizing the free dinner.

You notice his expression. He should be satisfied, smug as always. But instead of it he looks... concerned? You rub your wrist. It hurts a little but it seems like nothing major.

"Does it hurt?"

"Huh? Uh, no! I mean yes but no! It will be fine in the next day or so, don't worry!"

His expression doesn't change for a brief moment. But then switches back to his usual mask. Helping you up before asking.

"6 pm is alright?"

You look at him dumbfounded again.

"Or we could go later if you want to~"

Ah, the dinner! Right you are the one paying for his stuff. Sighing once more at that thought.

"Whatever time fits you. My wallet is shaking already."

"Ah, don't worry, Dear~. I wouldn't dare to order such expensive things to make my date go bankrupt."

Date? Did you hear right? You are now more confused than before. What does he mean with the date?!

"Kaeya! What do you mean- you can't... you can't just out of nowhere say date..."

"Oh? It was a mere jest. But you have to admit, a man and a lady going out together. Doesn't it sound like something one would call a date, hmm?"

You groan in frustration and annoyance. The more you think of it the more it makes sense. You hate it when he is right. But wait. You two going on a date? Sure. He said it as a joke but it doesn't mean your brain won't run into a direction it shouldn't. You simply can't imagine dating one of your friends.

"Don't tell me you are really thinking of it, y/n. It was a joke- unless... there's something you like to admit~"

"Admit..."

You repeat slowly. What would you like to admit? You look up at him, his star shaped eye is observing you with a glee. Lips curled into a sneer. You roll your eyes and pick up the sword you dropped. Put it back where it belongs.

"Sometimes I want to strangle you, Kaeya."

"That's not how you express your lovely feelings. But hey I get it I'd have problems to confess to myself as well~"

You glare back at him.

"If you don't stop..."

"Shh. You know I'm joking, Sweetheart. Right?"

Kaeya raised his hands up in peace. He can't help it but feel like he is dealing with somebody different right now. The death giving aura coming out of you is kind of scary.

"Yeah, you better do. I don't want to get jailed for a murder."

You deadpan and untie your hair. The messy bun was no longer keeping them in place anyway.

"Well, I can guarantee you there will be at least one person cheering for you."

Maybe he should have kept it for himself as the atmosphere started getting weird. You quickly caught the wind and shrugged.

"I really doubt he would do that. You two are idiots in your own ways but... I believe he still cares. Just like you. But none of you have balls to admit it."

A scoff leaves his lips before he runs hand through his hair.

"Hah. It seems all of us have some issues we won't admit."

"What do you mean?!"

You retort to which Kaeya just chuckles. If you don't see it now, so be it. Eventually when the time comes you will. He certainly can see it the way how your relationship moved. It's still in the beginning but he is not blind. He had noticed those quick glances from the bar owner. Checking on if you are alright. Later or sooner you will have to notice it too and then it all up to you.

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#genshin impact #genshin x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #genshin impact x reader #f!reader #genshin diluc #genshin kaeya #genshin impact diluc #genshin impact kaeya #diluc #kaeya #fiery series #two edges of the sword

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merryfortune · 3 years

Text

You give me flowers of love

Written for 100ships Challenge on Dreamwidth

Prompt #39 - Pink

Ship: Nodoka/Hinata

Fandom: Healin’ Good PreCure

Word Count: 3,757

Rating: M

Warnings: No Warnings Apply

AN: title comes from Bloodflowers by The Cure and is recommended listening for this fic.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Hanahaki, Horror, Gore, Emetophobia/Emetophilia, Angst and Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Past/Referenced Eriko/Hinata, Minor Blood

Hinata was not the type of girl who could handle horror stories, urban legends, or anything spookier than a rom-com set against the background of a popular coffee shop. However, there was something about this creepypasta that caught her attention. Maybe she read it to prove that she wasn’t a scaredy-cat or maybe she read it because something about it was almost too real.

It came across her Curestagram feed, screenshots reposted from another site with long form text functions rather than the optimized for photos aesthetic of Curestagram. It wasn’t late at night, quite the opposite, Hinata had just been scrolling as she was half nibbling on a banana muffin for morning tea. So she was kind of bored and not already unsettled by a vague anxiety sort of mindset so she stopped her scroll to read this totally true story from a friend of a friend that had happened upon her timeline.

The story involved a sickness. A lovesickness, hooking Hinata immediately since she was a hopeless romantic and leaving her vulnerable to what was hiding down below a few paragraphs after and Hinata realised she was reading a surreal medical horror story.

Supposedly, some girl from a high school in the next town over had been hospitalized due to damage to her stomach and esophagus but ultimately culminated in her passing away from brain damage due to suffocation. The suffocation that was the outcome of the damage she had taken to her stomach and esophagus had, supposedly, been caused by the growing of flowers inside of her. Doctors couldn’t explain it. They were baffled by the impossibility of it. Yet where they failed to posit theories at all, their patient had her own she desperately desired to reveal.

The nameless girl, as weak as she was in her final moments of speech and cognition, was certain with the most crystal clear clarity that she could muster said that reason for the flowers growing inside of her was due to a crush that she had been fostering for quite some time. A crush that was so powerful and deep that it had manifested as literal and impossible distress in the form of tiger lily flowers. Though her claims were dismissed as nonsense, despite the very given evidence that she had been vomiting exotic flowers, except by the narrator who was sharing her story online on her behalf.

Hinata got to the bottom line of the final screenshot and she dropped her phone on the table. She shivered and flinched as her phone clattered. Nyatoran looked up, alarmed, from the milk that he had been sipping.

“Heh? Are you okay Hinata?” he asked.

“Y-Yeah, I just lost my grip.” Hinata replied. It wasn’t a lie.

“Really? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Nyatoran pointed out.

Hinata made an expression that was both guilty and embarrassed, “Er, sort of… I read a ghost story online and I haven’t the stomach for them.”

“Oh, well, no worries then. I’ll keep ya safe from all the ghoulies then.” Nyatoran boasted.

Hinata laughed, “Thanks, Nyatoran.” she replied.

And that was more or less enough to keep her mind off what she had read for the rest of the day as she did her Sunday homework and such. At least until well after lights out.

Hinata cursed herself. She knew endless walls of text in screenshots never bore good news but it was under her skin now. It wasn’t even that scary, she tried to convince herself. It just so happened to play off something she had been thinking about in ways that cut deep and yes, even scary.

Hinata had a crush of her own. One she didn’t think she ought to act on. Or didn’t know how to act on.

Hinata had a crush on Nodoka. She was sweet and gentle yet so motivated. Hinata felt like she learned something new about either herself or Nodoka after every time they hung out. Things never felt old between them despite how natural their companionship was between them.

Catching feelings for Nodoka was inevitable, Hinata felt regarding their dynamic as close friends and their friendship was relatively intense due to their bond as comrades being Pretty Cures but that made Hinata sick to her stomach with fear. This wasn’t her first crush that she had on another girl.

In the not so recent past, Hinata had been wrong reading other girls’ opinions and feelings regarding her before. She and Eriko had been so close, childhood friends with a pact that seemed fit to stand the test of time when they had made it, and Hinata didn’t think it was a coincidence that already scarce contact between them after Eriko moved was when Hinata had confessed her feelings to Eriko.

The rejection had been crushing and Hinata had never told a soul about it. The wound was older now but it still hurt so, as lovely as Nodoka was, Hinata didn’t want to gamble their friendship due to that prior rejection. Yet her feelings crackled like electricity near a lightning rod whenever she was around Nodoka anyway. She could only hope that Nodoka was oblivious since she was so inexperienced socially due to her childhood spent mostly in the hospital.

(And that Chiyu never brought up the blatantly obvious which she would hopefully never do since she knew there was a place and a time and it wasn’t her place).

Thus, for all these different and entangling reasons, that horror story Hinata had read this morning really resonated. The thought of her unrequited feelings becoming literal, even in the form of pretty and seemingly harmless flowers, and suffocating. It was a very real fear to Hinata despite that fantastical execution that it was captured inside.

All because she was a magical girl infused with the power of light and thunder. She fought villains who caused infections in nature and created monsters. To her, it didn’t seem too far outside of her sphere of tried and true reality that such a floral disease of the body could exist. Heck, maybe it did exist and was tied to the war that she and her friends were fighting in secret on behalf of the Healing Animals. It was entirely possible this flower vomit disease was another agent or power of the Byougens.

Hinata groaned and the more she scolded herself for thinking about these horrible possibilities, the more she thought about them. She tossed and turned all night, in the dark and under the covers of her doona. She knew Nyatoran would live up to his boasting over morning tea if she asked but he was totally conked out in his little room. Hinata couldn’t bring herself to wake him, to unnecessarily burden him, so she just hid from her fears as best as she could in her blankets.

The following morning, Hinata was a wreck. She had bags under her eyes and was generally a drag. She hasn’t slept a wink last night but just like she was hiding from the horror story in her head, she decided to hide from the aftermath too. She touched up her eyes with concealer and finished off her make-up with a nice little kiss of lip balm, too. She chose a nice tropical flavour: pineapple with vanilla undertones and wore nude in practice. With that, she was ready for what was no doubt going to be a long, long day of school.

A prediction that she was very right in having. Just making it to lunch felt like an eternity and a half on low energy. Worst still, despite the precautions that Hinata had taken, both Chiyu and Nodoka had noticed that she wasn’t exactly her bouncy self today. Even with her favourite lunch box in her lap with fried chicken and a fruit drink, too.

“Are you okay, Hinata?” Nodoka asked and she batted her long eyelashes in concern.

Hinata knew she couldn’t lie or deflect around Nodoka, at least for the most part, and deflated, “No…” she moaned. “I slept awfully last night.”

“I expect that it wasn’t due to over studying?” Chiyu asked, sniping.

“No, I just. Couldn’t sleep.” Hinata shrugged.

“Well, be sure to put yourself early to bed tonight then. There’s nothing worse than being tired.” Nodoka said.

“Will do.” Hinata sighed.

“Also?” Nodoka prompted her.

“Yeah?” Hinata glanced at Nodoka was she tried a spoonful of rice from her side dishes.

“Your lip balm has a very strong smell today, I can smell it from here.” Nodoka laughed.

“Oh, joy…” Hinata hung her head in misery. She didn’t think it was so pungent in the tube.

“I didn’t mean that in a mean way.” Nodoka panicked whilst Chiyu had a discrete giggle at Hinata’s misfortune. “I really like it. I think it smells nice. Like cherries. I love the smell of cherries best.”

“Huh?” Hinata mumbled and she stared straight at Nodoka in confusion.

Nodoka stared back. Also in confusion. “Is something the matter?”

“Er, no,” Hinata awkwardly began and she forced herself to laugh and she flapped a hand about too to disguise her weirdness, “I must have been so tired this morning that I though I used one lip balm and instead used another.”

“That is a little odd…” Chiyu murmured.

But Nodoka seemed to buy it, she gasped, “Fwow, you must have been really tired this morning to make such a mistake. Promise me to get a good night’s rest tonight then.” Nodoka fussed for her.

“I promise, I promise.” Hinata replied.

Just as Hinata spoke, the end of lunch bell rang. She moaned with the utmost misery as she hadn’t finished her lunch even slightly and roused much sympathy from both Nodoka and Chiyu. So, Hinata crammed what she could into her mouth and swallowed before returning with her friends indoors to their classroom.

She plopped down in her chair and desk, her stomach growling almost immediately. Were it not for the teacher at the front of the classroom, Hinata would have flopped down and keeled over right there and then. She would have killed for a nap. Not even a luxurious nanna nap at this point, she would take a horrid power nap. Anything would have been better than nothing. Instead, the best she could muster was some daydreaming whilst scribbling in her work book so she could at least pretend to be paying attention.

Her mind strayed to Nodoka. She couldn’t help it. A silly little pining schoolgirl was exactly what she was after all. She doodled Nodoka’s name in her margins, surrounded with love-hearts, paw prints, and even flowers. It was a little bit childish but Hinata was a lot childish so she didn’t mind, she was more or less on cloud nine since Nodoka had shown her care for her over lunch, fussing for her like that.

It was such a small act but it was more than enough to launch Hinata’s heart in a million miles an hour race. So much so, she began to taste something at the back of her throat. It was a sweet taste accompanied by a fizzy sensation. Hinata liked it and it seemed to get stronger the more she daydreamed about Nodoka. Even though it was the middle of class, Hinata was letting her mind completely run away from the contents of what the teacher was attempting to educate on them.

Finally, after what felt like a day of self torment because of reading some stupid horror story about puking flowers, Hinata felt free of that gnawing anxiety. But just as she revelled in this, her stomach wretched. She dry gagged with the searing taste of bile at the back of her throat and her hand automatically clamped over her mouth, pen and all. The prior anxiety might have dissipated but a new one had spiked in its place.

Hinata frowned. Was it because she hadn’t eaten all her lunch that she suddenly felt nauseous? Or was it something else? She begged that it wasn’t her period, she was still quite irregular so this felt off or early to her.

Then she gagged again. She swallowed it back down. Hard. Whatever she swallowed was thick and sweet. It wasn’t vomit, Hinata had the startling realisation. She tried hard to keep it down but she failed. She vomited into her hand, or at least something similar. The motions were awful, worse than anything else she had ever had to eject from her body orally before.

Hinata felt sick to the very bottom of her stomach. Her hands shook as she slowly removed the one over her mouth and… and she couldn’t believe her eyes. They widened in shock as she saw the head of a flower in the palm of her hand. It was a cherry blossom, she realised. The pale pink petals were frayed at the edges, burnt by stomach acid and wet with her saliva; the anthers of its centre drooped and dragged, splayed across the petals. Her skin crawled as she marveled at the insane gravity of the situation. She quickly paled.

And the teacher noticed, “Hiramitsu, are you okay?” he asked from in front of the chalkboard, looking up concerned from the book he was reciting from.

“I-I, um, I need to go. To the nurse.” Hinata eked out her words with strained difficulty.

Her stomach flipped and she could feel another one coming up. It slithered up her throat and she hated the slow, dreadful sensation of it, the way it made her mouth taste of bile and cherries in horrible combination. Hinata bolted to her feet, afraid, alarming the whole class. She hid her mouth behind her hand again, holding tight that first flower that she had vomited.

“I need to go.” Hinata mumbled and she fled.

The feeling of her classmates' eyes on her felt like broken glass digging. She knew, deep down, they didn’t mean harm but their gazes only served to amplify the terror she felt as she fled. She was fast at first, escaping from the classroom but her stomach lurched and she vomited another flower and then again but two at once this time.

Hinata stopped in the hallway, she had to rest her shoulder against the wall just to stand as she looked down into the palm of her hand. The flowers were accumulating against her skin, wet and heavy, and accelerating in pace of production. Already she felt another lurch and this one was dire, Hinata didn’t think she would be so lucky to only vomit one or two this next time.

She had to get to the sick bay. She wasn’t sure what she would do there but anything had to be better than nothing, so she hobbled on in immense pain. By nothing less than a miracle, Hinata managed to get to the nurse’s suite without collapsing. Or with leaving too many flowers in her meagre wake.

The school nurse panicked almost immediately when she saw Hinata in this state. Hinata sputtered out a thank you whilst she was put to bed. Hinata curled up under the sheets, her stomach lurching and mangled petals dripped out of her mouth. She had to hide her ailment from the nurse. She just had to. She didn’t know how to explain it or anything else pertaining to it but fortunately, the nurse bought her some time by going to use administration’s phone to let her father know that Hinata was in immediate medical distress.

Hinata held her scrawny belly with one hand and her mouth the other. No matter how hard she tried, these flowers kept dredging up from inside of her and it was worsening. There was distention building inside of her, it was as if she could feel the bushels of cherry blossom flowers forming inside of her and something else too. It was raw and firm and poking up through her like a stick. Hinata moaned in utter agony as she tasted not just sweetness and bile in her mouth, but the cutting, metallic taste of blood too.

She whimpered as she tried to swallow it down. Attempting so, just made the nicks and cuts to her throat worsen and the petals to clog. Her lungs ached sharply as she struggled to breathe. Her eyes squeezed tight and she begged every deity she could think of for a saviour.

The door to the sick bay opened again. Hinata murmured to herself and the curtain was pulled aside, “Hinata?” a sweet voice greeted her.

“Huh?” Hinata slurred.

She rolled over, still holding herself but even a simple and slow motion like that was enough to rouse her illness violently. Her grimace was deep on her face as she tried to look at Nodoka, even feebly.

“A-Are you okay, Hinata?” she asked. “I couldn’t sit by and worry when I saw you ill you were, what’s wrong?”

Hinata opened her mouth. Mostly to reply, but that’s not what happened. She threw up in front of Nodoka and Nodoka couldn’t believe her eyes. Hinata was throwing up bushels upon bushels of flowers. Cherry blossoms. Nodoka blinked. She couldn’t believe the sights - or the smell. The smell was disconcerting with how almost pleasantly fragrant it was, heightening Nodoka’s realisation that this wasn’t Hinata pulling pranks.

“H-How on Earth did this happen…?” Nodoka asked.

She was horrified yet found herself unable to resist the impulse. She picked a blossom out of the pile that Hinata had vomited up. It was soft in her hand, even if it was grotesquely wet.

“I - I don’t-” Hinata tried to speak but she cut herself off when she felt something jut out of her mouth. An entire branch of cherry blossoms began to spike out of her mouth.

Her eyes began to roll back on themselves as Nodoka watched, in abject and frozen horror, as Hinata contended with this stick inside of her. It emerged slowly from the depths of her throat and made her chest convulse. Her fingers spasmed as she choked around it, flowers blooming along the thin and coarse branch.

“H-Help me.” Hinata sputtered out.

Nodoka nodded. She was scared, her heart was pounding, but she was first and foremost a helper of most empathetic ends. She had been on the receiving end of a strange and bizarre illness that had rendered most her childhood for naught. She couldn’t just let Hinata struggle. Suffocate.

So, she got onto the bed with Hinata. She straddled her so she could best approach the foreign object inside of Hinata. She focused her eyes and was as ready as she could ever be for an amateur operation quite like this one. Nodoka reached out and pinched the end of the branch delicately. It was entirely unsafe, Nodoka knew that, but she began to pull. She peered into Hinata’s pink mouth was clogged with twigs and petals, and tried her best to dislodge what she could.

Hinata gagged. Tears in her eyes and she plead, silently and afraid, that Nodoka could handle this. Nodoka’s hands shook but she did, in fact, manage. She tried her hardest and she did succeed even if it felt pyrrhic as Hinata screamed out as the last, and thickest, part of the cherry blossom branch was removed.

Nodoka flinched hearing the scream, dropping the cherry blossom branch between them. Hinata spat out blood and petals but the cherry blossom branch had been removed. She caressed her neck and it was raw with what it had been through. Her touches did little to soothe or quell her pain, she looked up at Nodoka with pathetic, red rimmed eyes.

“What was that?” Nodoka asked, her heart quaking. “How could any of this be possibly real?”

“I - I don’t know.” Hinata mumbled but that was a lie. She choked on her words all the same as she had choked on those cherry blossoms. Her hands squeezed tight. “No. I’m sorry. I do know.”

“Pardon?” Nodoka quietly exclaimed.

“There’s a very rare disease,” Hinata began, hasty, “that causes flowers to grow inside of someone suffering with a crush that they just can’t handle.”

“That’s horrible…” Nodoka murmured.

It was now or never, Hinata realised. Or she was going to end up exactly like the girl from the story that she had read yesterday. She knew it. She just knew it.

“Nodoka, it’s you.” Hinata confessed, half a sob in her voice. “I’m crushing on you.”

Nodoka was stunned by Hinata’s admission.

Hinata panted, her face was going bright red whilst her heart pounded like a hammer at her rib cage. She couldn’t believe it. She had done it. But it felt like a weight off, she had to admit, she didn’t realise her crush had been such a burden until right now. She felt herself lighten with the confession, from the very pit of her stomach, upwards and outwards.

Nodoka averted her gaze and Hinata was reminded once more why a crush was called a crush. That borderline feel good feeling from before popped. Burst. Nodoka played with her hair, fidgeting, and then managed to speak in a very calm and very quiet voice.

“I have a crush on you, too, Hinata.” Nodoka replied. “I admire so much how you sparkle and shine. It’s very refreshing to be around. I like you too. A lot.”

Nodoka reached out to Hinata’s hand and held it. She was so warm and she was still trembling but Nodoka’s caress of it did soothe her. Hinata hazarded a smile, like she couldn’t believe her ears, through her scarlet expression. Nodoka leaned in and kissed Hinata.

Hinata was unable to kiss back, afraid of her own breath but Nodoka didn’t mind. It was pungent with cherry blossoms and wet but she found the kiss sufficiently sweet, kissing Hinata’s soft, balmy lips. They were tinged with pineapple and vanilla beneath that overwhelming sensation of cherry blossoms.

“Thank you, Nodoka…” Hinata murmured and somehow, she didn’t know or understand how but she wasn’t going to complain, she was cured, prettily, of her affliction.

The cherry blossom flowers on the bed or in her gut, disappeared. All with seemingly little aplomb. Even the branch that had to have been removed from her throat, all with a soft, fizzling noise that Hinata could hardly hear over the sound of her pounding heart. She still had the cuts and scrapes, but she was no longer growing flowers inside of her stomach. Hinata was cured and Nodoka was her blessed, angelic cure.

#100ships challenge #femslash #nodohina #healin good precure #healin good #precure #nodoka hanadera #hanadera nodoka #cure grace #cure sparkle #hiramitsu hinata #hinata hiramitsu #writing tag #i really like this fic so i hope you guys enjoy

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readyourimgaines · 4 years

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Age Doesn’t Mean Much

Summary: Five times the BAU remembered Reid’s younger than them plus one time they were violently reminded he’s not a child.

Spoiler/Trigger Warning: The entire ending of the second season’s 15th episode: Revelations.

Dr. Spencer Reid was merely 21 when SSA Jason Gideon convinced him to join the BAU. With the exception of Aaron Hotchner (who had also read the young doctor’s file) the team wasn’t sure how to feel about the inexperienced man.

Other than giving a pointer or two to a professor lecturing on a cold case, Reid had no experience working in the field. The others figured that was why the poor kid pushed himself so hard: to prove himself.

Right after the first case, Elle stopped talking down to him. Half way through the same case, Morgan decided he’d taken the doctor under his wing. JJ was the first of Hotch’s subordinates to warm up to Reid. Their friendship was an awkward one for a couple of days. To an outsider, it looked as though a childhood friend was trying to help the other through a bout of amnesia.

Though the team never again questioned Reid’s ability on the field, there were times when they were suddenly reminded of Reid’s age.

1: Trying to Balance on a Curb While Walking

Hotch lost count of how many times Jack would walk on the curb, one foot in the front of the other, both arms outstretched for extra balance. Almost always, one of Jack’s hands would be firmly holding one of his father’s. SSA Hotchner almost laughed at himself when he nearly held Reid’s hand on instinct.

Reid and Hotch were walking alone to get lunch for the unit while between cases back home. They’d been walking side-by-side while Reid babbled happily about the last book he finished. Hotch contently listened, his mind occasionally wondering.

Hotch’s mind was pulled back to reality from one of its wonderings when his hand had brushed against Reid’s. The doctor’s hand quickly formed into a fist as he concentrated on his balance, his lips pressed tightly together. While Jack had his arms stretched straight out, Reid held his at more of a slant.

One thing Hotch quickly noticed, and was surprised the scientifically minded doctor missed, was that Reid’s ever present satchel was throwing him off balance.

“Reid.”

“Hm?”

“Let me hold onto your bag.” Hotch held his hand out to take the leather bag.

“Why?” Reid’s foot touched down on the road as he lost balance now that he was doing more with his brain than focussing on his footing.

“It's a hypothesis.” Hotch smirked but Reid missed it, not taking his eyes off his sneakers.

Carefully, as not to fall, Reid removed his satchel and held it out, blindly, for Hotch to take. The older agent held it by the shorted of the two handles as he continued to walk alongside Reid.

Hotch chuckled to himself upon seeing the look on Reid’s face. The young doctor was looking at his feet, almost in awe. He hadn’t needed to touch down since Hotch took the bag half a block back.

Once he walked two blocks on the curb- without losing balance- Reid was content and took his bag back, putting it back over his shoulder so the pouch of it bounced against the opposite hip.

“Did you know the position of an object’s center of gravity affects its stability? The higher the center of gravity is, the easier it is for the object to fall. That’s why a small boat- like a kayak or canoe- is less likely to tip if the occupants are seated lower in the boat.

“Textbooks usually demonstrate this with either a bus and or two cars of different heights and lengths…”

2: Mismatched Socks

One of the first things Emily Prentiss noticed about Reid were his mismatched socks. Of course, the other BAU members noticed it too, but they never questioned it. It’s just part of who Reid was. Curiosity got the better of SSA Prentiss.

“Reid?”

The doctor looked up from his case file. “Yeah?”

“Why do you never wear matched socks?” She looked down at Reid’s ankles and he followed her gaze. One lavender sock, one pink with blue stripes.

“My uh- When I was a kid, my mom would tell me it was bad luck to wear matching socks.” Reid pulled the lavender sock back up to where it should be.

“That doesn’t sound like something that could be scientifically verified.” A slight smirk spread across Emily’s face.

Reid huffed slightly. “The night I was taken by Tobias… It was the first time I wore matching socks in five years. Burgundy with orange stripes.” Reid blinked heavily, clenching his eyes shut. “I don’t wear socks if they match.” He paused again. “Besides, matching socks are boring. Some people say socks should be a shade darker than their pants or a shade lighter than the shoes- Hotch does the former.

“Also, 82% of men in my age bracket wear mismatched socks at least once a week because we keep losing one of a pair. And a family of four- on average- loses 60 socks a year.”

3: Playing With Jell-O

Reid loved Jell-O. No-one was really sure why, but didn’t ask, either. Everyone had their favorite dessert, so maybe Jell-O was just his? He liked cake, sure, but he didn’t eat it nearly as often as he ate Jell-O.

On jet rides back home, no-one ever knew what conversations were bound to come up. This week’s was what the team was going to do with a three day weekend and morphed into best desserts.

“What about you, Reid?” Prentiss drew Reid from his train of thought.

“Hm?”

“You like Jell-O, don’t you, Pretty Boy?” Morgan checked.

“Yeah.”

“Not even Henry likes Jell-O,” JJ smiled at the thought of her young son.

“It doesn’t have much of a taste,” Rossi added.

“I think that’s part of why I like it, actually.” Reid fidgeted with the hem of his shirt.

“Because it tastes like watered down Kool-Aid?” Rossi frowned.

“Yeah. All the other foods are so strong and Jell-O’s not. It’s cool, but not cold, and it’s fun to play with.”

A ghost of a smile danced across Hotch’s face. “Jack likes playing with it. He gets sad when I don’t buy finger Jell-O on accident.”

“That’s the only kind I buy.” Reid nodded. “The red is my least favorite- It takes like Red 40.”

“What is your favorite kind, then?” Rossi couldn’t help but ask.

“Pineapple. Minimal amounts of dyes and you can see through it.”

“No numbers about Jell-O?” Prentiss challenged with a grin.

JJ, Hotch, and Morgan all smiled while Rossi teasily groaned. The groan got a smile from Reid too.

“Actually, in the US, the Jell-O brand is recognized- by name and product- by 99% of the populous.” Spencer chortled. “That means that if you got a group of 100 people together, only one person would have no idea what Jell-O is.”

4: Doodles on Everything

Dr. Spencer Reid didn’t always carry his leather satchel with him. Hotch more or less ordered him to get a notebook he could keep in a pocket. The unit chief didn’t care if Reid drew on his arms. The unit chief cared when Reid jotted down notions or points for the running case.

Garcia loved Reid’s little doodles and had a decently sized collection. She referred to him as a “chronic doodler”. The analysis tech found it almost funny that someone as brilliant and talented as Reid had so little artistic skill outside of his geographic profiling maps.

Reid knew full well that Garcia collected his doodles. After a particularly stressful case- which always resulted in more doodles, Reid would sign and dare the flip book page before tearing it out and leaving it in Garcia’s bunker.

There were times when Reid would doodle on his arm rather than the flip book simple because it was more convenient. That didn’t mean Garcia didn’t see those ones. No, no, no. These ones, Reid would take pictures of and send to Garcia when a case was getting to her.

Morgan talked to Garcia more than anyone else on a case. Whether or not Penelope voiced her unease, Morgan- ever the profiler- could tell. He’d have Reid a certain look and the younger man would send Garcia texts of his doodles- evenly spaced- throughout the case. If he did the math and found he didn’t have enough, nothing stopped him from drawing a couple more.

Hotch and Gideon thought of the times their sons would draw a picture or make them a card when they had a bad day at work. Morgan was reminded of the beaded bracelets his sisters used to make him when he was injured in football or his team lost a game.

The one hitch with their theory? Garcia was the one person who got to keep the drawings. Not even Reid kept them. She knew this fact and gloated about it to the team whenever she got a new one. All of her computer screens in her bunker had a different doodle as the screen saver.

5: Dependent on the Team

For the most part, the BAU stuck to themselves after hours if they weren’t going out for drinks. Reid was the one exception and the rest of the team found they didn’t mind.

JJ was the first one he texted. The message was a simple worded question: How can you tell the difference between romantic feelings and transference? The gentle blonde took it upon herself to explain to the doctor that he’d know when he was in love because how being near the person or even just thinking about them made him feel.

The media liaison assumed she’d never really see the person Reid texted her about that Sunday evening. She was a little less than shocked to see the light in the young doctor’s eyes shift when Morgan wandered into the bullpen Monday morning.

A month passed before JJ got a message along the lines of the one she was expecting: Reid asking for advice on how to ask someone out. How to better the wording, how to keep from straying off the point.

The next day, he texted Elle about flowers: I have a date next weekend. Are flowers too forward?

Elle smiled down at her phone, at Reid’s innocence. She told him that flowers were a nice and caring gesture, but that he’d want to be careful with what flowers he got because different flowers sent different messages.

This was the first of this Reid was hearing. He thanked Elle and thought more. Hotch was married. He must know a decent amount about flowers and such romantic ideas, right? So he texted Hotch: Do you know anything about flower symbolism? Elle says flowers have different messages to them.

Hotch chuckled, getting Haley’s attention.

“What’s so funny?”

“Do you remember Dr. Spencer Reid?” Hotch looked at the blonde.

“He’s the shy, Autistic boy, right?” Haley glanced up from feeding Jack.

“Yeah. He’s nervous about an upcoming date and texted to see if I know anything about flowers.” Hotch’s thumb was dancing across the flip-phone’s buttons.

“What are you telling him?”

“That roses have the highest chance of getting him in his date’s bed. Pink camellias and carnations are signs of love and longing; ivy means friendship.” Hotch typed this by naming the flowers, placing an equal sign, and the meaning.

“Do you know who his date is?”

“Not as far as Reid and his date are concerned.”

So yes, he did.

Friday morning- the morning before his date- Reid sat by himself on the jet ride home, trying to read a book he brought. He couldn’t focus on it for the life of him. He’d been staring at the same page for then minutes. He jumped a little when Gideon sat down across from him.

“What has you so nervous?”

“Noth-” Reid stopped short. That wasn’t the right word; the date meant everything to him. “I uh… I have a date tomorrow evening and I’m worried, I guess. I’ve never actually been on a date, but I really like this person.”

“Okay. So what about it has you worked up?” Gideon’s eyes were gentle and fatherly.

Reid thought about how to answer the question. “We’ve been friends for a while and I don’t- I don’t want to mess up so badly that he doesn’t want to be friends-” Reid froze, his eyes wide. “G-Gideon, I-”

“There’s nothing wrong.” The older man squeezed the younger’s shoulder. “If your friend know you as well as you know him, I think it’s safe to say he’s not too worried about the friendship failing. Sometimes, Reid, you have to take a leap of faith.”

+One: “I choose...Aaron Hotchner.”

“Choose, and prove you’ll do God’s will.”

“No.”

Click. “Choose.”

“I won’t do it.”

Click. “Choose.”

“I...I choose...Aaron Hotchner. He’s a classic narcissist. He thinks he’s better than everyone else on the team. Genesis 23:4, “Let him not deceive himself and trust in emptiness, vanity, falseness, and futility, for these shall be his recompense.”

Bang. Raphael took a bullet from Tobais’ pocket and held it up, showing it to Reid. “For God’s will.”

Morgan’s heart shattered at seeing his boyfriend crouched over the body of his captor and tormentor. The side of Reid’s head was coated in dry blood, he was avoiding putting weight on his sock-less foot.

Reid limped his way over to Hotch and hesitantly put a hand on his superior’s arm as though he wasn’t sure the man was there. The young man quickly and tightly hugged Hotch.

“I knew you’d understand.”

JJ was the next to hug Reid, the doctor losing his balance slightly and the liaison easily caught him.

“I am so sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

The second JJ let go of Reid, Morgan stepped forward and pulled Reid into as tight of a hug as he dared. He needed to feel his boyfriend in his arms but he’d seen the same video as everyone else and didn’t want to hurt him more.

Prentiss was shocked and looked at JJ with wide eyes when Morgan kissed Reid and the doctor eagerly reciprocated. The blonde just smiled.

*****

@stxrryspencer @chaoticgremlinwholikescheese @the-need-for-reid-speed

#read your imagines #combefere's journal #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #david rossi #elle greenaway #jennifer jj jareau #jason gideon #derek morgan #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #moreid #moreid imagine

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adiwriting · 4 years

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Sunday Morning 11.5/?

So the Sunday Morning fic today practically demanded a follow up so that the boys could resolve something both with each other and with Maria. So while I don’t think I’ll be making this a regular occurrence, have a bonus fic today!

If you haven’t read this morning’s fic, see here.

Thanks to @cosmicclownboy for the gif

Sunday Morning Evening Week 11

There is a lot to love about Alex’s house: the bed with plenty of room for two; the fenced-in backyard where Michael has been considering putting in a garden for weeks now; the kitchen that provides enough space to actually cook full meals, not just half-assed omelettes and killer quesadillas; the big sofa deep enough for two people to lay together…

But by and large, the best part about Alex’s house is that it has Alex. Michael would happily live under a rock so long as Alex is there with him.

The sun is starting to set and the two of them are in the backyard together while the dogs all play. Michael is relaxing on the chaise with Alex between his legs, laying back against him. They’ve been lazy ever since they got back from Isobel’s, both exhausted and in need of a nap that never came. Instead, they have just been lounging around in silence for the last two hours, occasionally laughing at something one of the dogs is doing.

It’s good. It’s comfortable. But they are both avoiding a talk they really need to be having. Alex sure as hell isn’t going to break first given that the topic they need to discuss is him, so it’s up to Michael.

“So, we’re alone now,” he starts awkwardly.

Alex snorts, which doesn’t make him feel any more at ease. “Smooth, Guerin.”

“Can we talk about what Liz told me?” he asks, shifting around. Alex sighs and sits up. There is maybe three feet between them, but it feels like an entire football field with the way Alex is avoiding meeting his eyes.

“I’m not sure it’s really any of your business or hers,” Alex bristles.

Michael doesn’t respond right away. He doesn’t want to start a fight with Alex, which he will most certainly do if he keeps pushing. They’ve been doing so good since getting back together. They’ve been together eleven weeks and not once have they fought. They hardly even bicker. He’s not eager to see what a fight between them will do to the relationship they’ve been building together.

Still, he doesn’t think Alex will fix this thing with Maria without some nudging and he knows their distance has been making him miserable. Wouldn’t it be selfish of him to let this go in order to save his own relationship with Alex at the expense of one of Alex’s most important friendships?

“Just say whatever it is you want to say,” Alex says with a roll of his eyes.

Peter comes over to them and attempts to climb up into Alex’s lap, but he’s not tall enough yet to make that jump on his own. Alex leans down to pick him up. Perhaps he’ll be less likely to yell at Michael with one of the puppies in his arms. Michael can only hope...

“You know that Maria and I broke up for more than her refusal to wear the bracelet, right?” he asks.

Alex doesn’t look at him, his eyes are trained on Peter, but he shrugs and says, “yeah.” So Michael knows he’s at least listening. That’s something.

“She broke up with me because she knew I was always going to love you,” he explains. “And she was right.”

“If she hadn’t broken up with you, you’d still be with her,” Alex says. He says it more to Peter than he does to him, but he still says it and that’s a start.

Michael doesn’t respond right away. Alex deserves more than a quick, defensive answer. He deserves the truth. That’s the only way this thing between them is going to work. So Michael swallows down the knot in his throat and tries to quell the growing anxiety that the world is about to crumble around him. He tries to trust in this thing between them that has somehow managed to survive the last twelve years, despite abusive fathers, murder, war, alien serial killers, bomb plots, and literal lost limbs. They can get past the fact that Michael dated Alex’s best friend.

“I’m not sure I ever honestly thought that you and I could get to this place… But this? What we have here? This has been my dream since we were 17. I would choose this life with you a thousand times before any other option,” he admits, hoping Alex believes him.

Alex’s eyes finally look up and he’s able to see his face. Michael can read the fear in him and he hates that he’s ever given Alex a reason to doubt this.

“If I could take it back—”

“No, please,” Alex cuts him off before the lie can roll off his tongue. “You had every right to date Maria. I mean, I would have, had that even been an option for me. She’s a good person and I wanted you to have something good.”

“You’re my something good,” he rushes to make clear.

It earns him a smile, which feels like victory enough. Perhaps this doesn’t have to end in yelling and tears.

“We weren’t good together,” Alex says. “You were right, when you told me that, as hard as it was to hear at the time. We both had a lot of growing to do and I’m not sure we could have done that together.”

Michael nods, because he’s right. As hard as it had been to push Alex away after he’d started coming around last year, it had been the right decision. They both had a lot of things to work through separately before they were ready to meet each other in the middle and start something new.

“We’re good together now,” he says, relieved when Alex reaches out his hand for Michael’s.

“I know,” Alex says, squeezing his hand in reassurance. “Sometimes it’s just hard to trust that it will stay that way.”

“Because you think that I’m going to leave?” he asks, trying to understand so he can do better.

“I just feel like, whenever things are good in my life, there’s always something ready to jump in and strip it away,” Alex says. “And we don’t have a good track record with this dating thing. I worry that you’ll get bored or that I’ll get scared, or that we’ll get in a fight and both say something we can’t take back…”

“We’re going to get in a fight,” he says, sitting up further in his chair and scooting closer to Alex so that he can take both of his hands in his own. “We’re going to get mad and say things we don’t mean. Love isn’t this perfect fix. But we don’t have to let this thing break. We can choose to push through, together, everyday. That’s what I want.”

“That’s what I want too,” Alex agrees. Michael lets out a breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding.

“Good,” he says as Alex leans in to give him a sweet kiss, all the while Peter attempts to nudge Michael away, never willing to share his daddy’s affections. Alex picks Peter up and places him on the ground before standing up.

“We should probably start dinner,” Alex says.

“We still need to talk about Maria,” he says, standing up as well. Alex groans, but doesn’t protest any further. They gather up the dogs and bring them all inside as they head to the kitchen to figure out something to cook.

“My fight with Maria honestly doesn’t have anything to do with you,” Alex says, sitting up on the counter as Michael pulls the ingredients out to make a stir fry.

“Then it shouldn’t stress you out this much to talk about it,” Michael counters.

Alex narrows his eyes at him but the slight upturn of his lips lets Michael know that he’s at least as amused as he is annoyed at his attempts to get him talking.

“I don’t understand why you care about this,” Alex says. “It doesn’t impact you.”

“It impacts you,” he says, meaningfully at first, until the words sink in and he scoffs. “And it does impact me.”

Alex gives him a disbelieving look.

“If you aren’t talking to Maria then I’m not talking to Maria,” he explains, though he’s pretty sure that should be obvious. It’s like the first rule of dating. Or that’s what he’s learned from watching Isobel over the years.

“I didn’t tell you to stop talking to Maria,” Alex says with a roll of his eyes. He hops off the counter and uses his hip to move Michael out of the way to start preparing dinner when it’s clear that Michael is too distracted to focus on the task. “You can talk to her.”

“I know that I can,” Michael says, annoyed. “And I do. But not about anything that matters.”

“Well then pick up the phone and call her, Guerin.”

Clearly this is going well. Michael looks at his feet where John is nuzzling into his leg and gives him a look while he gestures at Alex’s back, as if to say, ‘do you see what I have to deal with?’ John is of course as useless at getting Alex to talk as he is adorable. Michael rolls his eyes and looks back up.

“You’re mad that she won’t wear the bracelet,” he says.

Alex slams the knife he’s using to cut up the vegetables on the counter. “Of course I’m mad.”

Michael doesn’t say anything right away and Alex takes a few steadying breaths before he replies again, this time more calm, “I don’t get how she can be this careless with her own life. She’s seen what’s happened to Mimi.”

“I know,” Michael agrees. “I tried to talk to her about it, but she’s going to make her own decisions.”

“Well you didn’t try hard enough,” he says. “You just let her break up with you.”

Michael feels like he’s suffering from whiplash. “I’m sorry, now you’re mad that we broke up?”

“No, of course not,” Alex says with a sigh as he deflates. “I’m just so frustrated.”

“I know.”

Alex allows Michael to step into his space and wrap his arms around him from behind. Alex relaxes into his touch.

“I can’t watch her deteriorate, I won’t,” Alex whispers.

“We won’t let that happen,” he says, placing a comforting kiss to the side of his neck.

“When I was growing up, I didn’t have many people that cared for me. I didn’t become good friends with Liz until high school. And Kyle and I were friends as kids, but he was never able to handle anything serious. Even my brothers were assholes. I know that Greg is great now, but back then, he had no idea how to comfort me,” Alex explains.

It’s the most Michael has ever heard Alex talk about his childhood and he doesn’t move, doesn’t hardly breathe for fear that Alex will stop talking.

“I had Maria. And I had Mimi. I would spend every night I could get away at their house. Watching Mimi deteriorate has been miserable. She’s the closest thing I’ve had to a mom. A real mom at least…”

He trails off and Michael doesn’t say anything when Alex wipes his tears with the back of his hand.

“I can’t lose Maria.”

Michael nods in understanding before realizing that Alex can’t see him, so he kisses his neck again to remind him that he’s here. Alex squeezes at the arms around his waist before he goes back to cutting the vegetables. Michael relaxes his hold on him but doesn’t let go. He watches as Alex cuts the bell peppers, then the carrots, and finally the broccoli. It isn’t until he’s having to let go so Alex can grab the chicken and a pan that he figures out how to word what he wants to say.

“I get that you’re scared, and when you’re scared you push people away because it’s easier,” he says carefully. “But all you’re doing by distancing yourself from Maria is making sure that you lose her sooner.”

Alex pauses from where he’s digging around in the cabinet for a pan and trying to hold back Wendy who’s trying to crawl inside. He looks at Michael like he actually hears him for a change.

“Just something to think about,” he says, feeling a bit smug that he actually got Alex to both talk and come around. “I’m gonna go take them for a walk,” he adds, picking up a protesting Wendy before she can lick all of the pans. He figures Alex could use the time and space to process. He usually does.

Michael is at the door getting all the dogs in their harnesses when Alex steps out of the kitchen to give him a playful glare. “You know you’re an insufferable ass, right?”

He lets out a loud laugh. He probably is, but if it means that Alex won’t pine after his best friend anymore, then he can live with it.

“Call Maria,” he says, grabbing the tandem leash for the puppies. “We can put the babies to bed early tonight and reward each other for doing hard things today.”

Alex scoffs. “Going to brunch at your sister’s is not a hard thing.”

“Speak for yourself.”

Alex sighs deeply, but gives him that fond look that always has his heart growing three times the normal size. He steps into the hallway and gets Bell onto her own leash while Michael finishes with the puppies. Once they are all done, Alex hands him Bell’s leash, his eyes serious as he says, “Thank you.”

Michael shrugs it off like it’s nothing, even though he’s pretty sure it’s everything. “Sometimes we just need to help each other out of our own way, right?”

It’s what Alex had told Michael the night they’d decided to get back together. Back when Michael was still coming up with a thousand excuses as to why he wasn’t good enough for Alex.

“Right,” Alex says, sounding more like he’s trying to convince himself than agree with Michael’s statement.

Michael can see that he’s mentally trying to talk himself up to calling Maria and thinks perhaps the whole thing will go easier if he stays out of the house for a bit with the dogs.

“I’ll walk them to the dog park down the street. Why don’t you just call me when you’re ready for us to come home,” he says.

And that’s exactly what he does. He takes the dogs to the dog park where they play and he reluctantly socializes with their annoying neighbors for a solid forty-five minutes. But when Alex does finally call, he sounds so much lighter than he has in weeks and Michael knows that the entire exhausting day has been well worth it. From the annoying brunch at his sisters to the difficult conversation with Alex. If it’s what Alex needed, then Michael is happy to have been able to give that to him.

Not that he’ll ever tell Isobel that, she’ll start making Sunday morning brunches a regular event, and Michael isn’t about to give up his lazy Sundays in bed with Alex. Not for the world.

Tagged: @callieramics @redstalkingdeath Want to be tagged? let me know.

#roswell new mexico #Malex fic #fic: sunday mornings #michael guerin #alex manes #maria deluca #alex avoids and michael pushes #but it is all good in the end #domestic bliss

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the-demelza-robins · 4 years

Text

american high school!jily (iv)

oh hey! it’s chapter four! you can also read it on ao3 :)

part three

JAMES’S GLASSES GET IN THE WAY. Lily should’ve expected it, should’ve known that when he’d backed her against the door, when he’d leaned down slightly to kiss her again, his glasses would bump against her forehead. He’s kissing her and she’s laughing, and she should be embarrassed, but this is James Potter and his glasses got in the way and he’s laughing, too, and they’re a mess and Lily can’t really think about anything except that Gretchen Prewett must be onto something, because she’s never felt this comfortable kissing someone before.

“How blind are you?” she asks, voice more breathless than she thought it would be (he’s kissing her neck, now, which probably has something to do with it).

“I’m nearsighted,” he replies, lips against skin. “Can’t see things far away.”

“In that case, I’m taking your glasses off,” Lily decides, reaching for them. Eyes. Hazel. Up close.

“At least take me to dinner first.”

Lily doesn’t glorify that with a response. She can feel the time running out, sand through an hourglass; there’s only so much left before she’ll remember what he did to Sev and he’ll realize that the sweater she’s wearing belongs to Roger; before Sirius unlocks the bedroom door and Marlene wants to go home; before the sun rises and the whole night is reduced to a dreamy haze. She takes his glasses off and tosses them onto a nearby chair, and then she kisses him again.

She’s only kissed two people before: Sev, once, in eighth grade — it was wet and gross and quickly extinguished any remotely romantic feelings she’d had for him. Then, tonight, Roger.

And now, James. Her hands are in his hair and his are pressed against her waist, under Roger’s sweater but over her dress, and his hair is so soft and he’s doing things with his tongue and the fire she felt earlier in the night is nothing, nothing, compared to this.

Just like that, he steps back. Just like that, the sand in the hourglass runs out.

“Lily?”

She takes a breath, tries not to stare at his lips (swollen) or his hair (thoroughly, thoroughly mussed) as she pulls herself together. “Yes?”

“Are you and Roger —”

Everything comes crumbling down. Her and Roger. What was she doing here, with James, when she’d finally gotten Roger? So what if James is a better kisser, so what if the look he’d given her after she’d kissed him for the first time made her stomach tighten? Roger was the one she wanted; had always wanted.

“We’re not together, not —” she swallows that last word, that yet, down.

James steps back, runs a hand through his hair. Crosses his arms. Grimaces, slightly, at the ground. “Okay.”

The room spins in time with her heartbeat. “I don’t know what came over me, I just —”

“It’s my fault,” he says, voice quiet, controlled. “My fault. I knew you always liked him, hell, I even saw you kissing him a few hours ago —”

“It’s not your fault,” Lily says wildly, unsure of what she’s trying to accomplish. “But — we can be friends, right? I’d like to be friends.”

This time, he looks up at her, a more genuine smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, and he couldn’t have actually liked me, Lily thinks, if he’s taking it this well. “Yeah. Friends.”

***

Lily wakes the next morning to a splitting headache and a text from Roger. It’s simple, straightforward (the text, not the headache): that was fun, we should do it again sometime, to which Lily responds, definitely.

Ignoring the guilt settling in her stomach — guilt for what happened with James, even though she hadn’t made any promises to Roger — she pops an Advil and resolves to keep her phone on silent for the rest of the day.

***

The Sideways Diner opens early on Sunday mornings, and it’s there that Lily finds herself a twenty minutes later, talking about the night before with the usual crowd. Alice blows bubblegum bubbles and refuses to eat anything, but still she orders a strawberry milkshake, if only to draw patterns in the whipped cream. Marlene, dressed preppily enough to go golfing, bears almost no resemblance to the tired, sad girl Lily had consoled last night; she smiles brightly, laughs, Sirius’s fever finally, finally broken. Dorcas, half-asleep, leans her head against Lily’s shoulder, legs dangling out into the aisle. Lily herself feels like she’s been ground through a trash compactor; though her headache has subsided somewhat, different moments from the night keep echoing through her head — Roger, smiling at her in the dimly lit kitchen, hand on her back as he’d kissed her; James, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else when he’d interrupted them; Marlene, soft, quiet, wrecked; James, again, and again, and again…

“James and I hooked up last night,” Lily blurts out, unable to stop herself. From the other side of the circular booth, Marlene’s mouth drops open, lip gloss framing a perfect O. Dorcas stirs against Lily’s shoulder, then sits up, forking some of Lily’s pancakes onto her own plate and grumbling.

Alice is the first to break the silence, raising her eyebrows. “Well?”

“What do you mean, ‘well?’” Lily asks, brow furrowing. “James. James Potter. The one I hate? I hooked up with him, and all you have to say is well?”

“I called it,” Marlene says, a hint of triumph in her voice as she sips her orange juice. “Literally right before it happened. I called it.”

“Was it good?” Alice pushes.

“We just — I mean, we just kissed,” Lily sputters, wondering how she’d managed to lose control of the conversation already.

Dorcas raises an eyebrow, then pokes Lily’s neck. “That hickey says otherwise.”

Marlene’s laughing now, and Alice joins in. “I thought you got with Roger.”

“That was earlier in the night, before…”

“Before you got mysteriously ‘locked’ in the master bedroom with your childhood enemy?” Marlene asks, raising an eyebrow.

“We were locked in!” Lily protests. “It’s an old house, and —”

“Oh, so you just had to make out to pass the time?”

“Well, I got pretty mad at him, and we were fighting, but then we realized we were stuck, and he seemed claustrophobic, so —”

“So you kissed him to make him feel better, obviously,” Alice jumps in, smirking. “It’s what any of us would’ve done. The most clear path forward.”

“I hate all of you,” Lily grumbles. “Besides, we agreed to be friends.”

“And what kind of friend would he be, Lily dear?” Alice asks, batting her eyelashes. “The one that leaves marks on your neck?”

Lily wonders, idly, if her friends will ever let this go.

***

On Friday, after a week of texting back and forth, Roger asks her out. They’ve just finished their last yearbook meeting, and as they walk down the empty hallway towards the parking lot, he says: “You going to the game tonight?”

“There’s a game?” Lily asks, though of course she knows what he’s talking about. She’s a bit too aware of the soccer team’s schedule, thanks to him.

He nods. “We’re playing Rosedale. You should come.”

Lily can’t help herself from blurting: “I should?”

He glances at her, expression hard to read. “Yeah. I mean, if you want to. It would be fun.”

Lily feels the vibrations of incoming text messages in her pocket; thinks of plans. Marlene’s plans, to go to the Dairy Queen and get drunk, maybe, or sleep over at someone’s house. Boring plans. Usual plans. The plans that will result in a few new Snap memories and inside jokes, but nothing more.

The possibility of the game stretches out before her, as long as the corridor they’re walking down. She could go to the game. Cheer Roger on. This thing — whatever they are — could actually go somewhere.

“What’s in it for me?” Lily teases, trying to tell her heart to stop beating so fast. Is he blushing? The fluorescent lights of the hallway, universally unflattering, make it hard to tell.

He forms his words carefully. “I don’t know. School spirit? Yearbook photos? Ice cream?”

Lily laughs. “Ice cream?”

“I mean, if you want, we could get some after.”

Lily’s practically beaming, and it’s so embarrassing, but she can’t stop herself. This is what she’s wanted. This is what she’s always wanted. “Okay. I’ll be there.”

***

The game starts at six, and it’s four thirty now. After Roger leaves for the soccer field, Lily calls Marlene, who screams in her ear and promises to meet her in the bleachers. Dorcas can’t come because she has a violin recital but she tells Lily, almost fondly, not to fuck it up.

“Love you too, Dorcas,” Lily says sweetly into the phone. Dorcas murmurs something similar — albeit in a much less friendly tone — and Lily wonders how she got such amazing friends. She’s about to find an empty classroom to do some work in when someone calls her name.

“Lily! Didn’t think I’d see you here on such a fine Friday evening.” James walks towards her, already in his soccer uniform.

Lily waves her ever-present yearbook camera. “I’m going to the game.”

His hand flutters over his heart, Northwood High’s colors — green and gold — splayed across his chest. “I’m shocked, Evans. Truly. What prompted such a dramatic change in behavior? Possession?” He squints at her. “Whoever’s inhabiting Lily’s body, riddle me this — what was her mother’s maiden name?”

“Lawrence. And I’m, um, meeting with friends. And taking photos.” It’s not a lie, but it’s not the whole truth. Some protective instinct, buried deep inside her, doesn’t want James Potter to be the first person outside of her friend group to find out about Roger — even if James had reverted back to his old self over the course of the week. It’s almost like Halloween night didn’t happen, and Lily is absolutely, one hundred percent sure that he never liked her, that the combination of leftover alcohol and claustrophobia was what drove him to say he wanted to kiss her, not some deep seeded longing.

He runs a hand through his hair. “Keep the camera on me, ‘kay? I’m the star out there.”

“I’ll try,” Lily says drily. “Aren’t you supposed to be on the field right now?”

James shrugs. “I had to put my contacts in, and the locker room bathrooms were full.” He holds up his glasses, which he’d been carrying in his hand, and Lily’s struck by vivid memory: the way the glasses had dug into her forehead the first time he’d leaned down to kiss her; the way she’d tugged them off his face in a frenzy; the way his face, without them on, looked so vulnerable, even in the dark.

Just as Lily realizes she’s been staring for too long, James snaps his fingers. “Oh, I get it. This the part in the movie where the protagonist takes her glasses off, and the love interest realizes that she’s beautiful. I guess the genders are swapped for this one.”

Lily gapes at him.

“I mean, I thought you would’ve already realized how captivating my eyes are, Lily, but if this is what it takes —”

“Oh, shut up,” she snaps, color rising to her cheeks. She’s thoroughly humiliated, but she’ll be damned if she has to let him see that. “I’m meeting Roger after the game, okay?”

Now it’s his turn to stand stock-still, smug expression frozen on his face. He clears his throat. “Okay. Sorry. I was just joking, I mean —”

“No, I get it —”

“— knew we said we’d be friends, I was just teasing —”

“— it’s okay —”

“— crossed a line, and I’m sorry —”

“— you’re fine, James.”

He scratches the back of his neck. “Okay. Well… I’ll see you on Monday, then.”

“Good luck,” Lily almost whispers.

She watches as he walks away.

***

Northwood crushes Rosedale, 5-0. Roger is a solid wall, not letting a single ball into the net, but, if Lily’s honest with herself, James is the one behind the team’s success. Again and again, he scores; the stands erupting into cheers, his teammates patting him hard on the back. Lily snaps picture after picture, and when it’s over she joins her classmates in flooding the field, a crush of bodies and cheering and exuberance under the rapidly approaching twilight. The team streams out of the locker rooms a few minutes later. Lily searches for Roger amongst the sea of green and gold sweatshirts, and before she can find him, she makes eye contact with James. He’s glowing — cheeks still flushed from the game, hair flattened by the shower, glasses back on. For a moment, Lily swears that the pure energy radiating from him, the unfiltered happiness, makes him seem like a little boy again.

That last thought abandons Lily’s head as soon as she spots Gretchen Prewett running towards him. He lifts her off her feet, spins; not a little boy anymore. Something settles deep in her gut, and she turns away, not sure why seeing James happy causes such discomfort.

“Lily?”

She blinks; while she’s been off in her own head, Roger’s walked over, and now he stands in front of her, grinning. “Great job out there,” she says, not quite knowing what to do with herself.

Is he blushing? He’s definitely blushing.. “Thanks. I, um — wanna get ice cream?”

“Definitely,” Lily says, confidence rising. He’s nervous, too.

“Cool. I just have to say goodbye to everyone, and then we can go.” He holds a hand out expectantly. She takes it, realizing too late that this means she’ll have to see James one more time.

They weave through the crowd, shouted congratulations and praise following them as they move closer to where the majority of the team stands. Lily knows that people can see her and Roger’s intertwined hands, and the thought sends a thrill through her. “Davies,” Preston Fawley, right midfielder, shouts. “We’re going to James’s — wanna join?”

Lily looks past Preston and sees James, arm slung around Gretchen’s waist, talking to Remus and Peter. “What do you think, Lily?” Roger asks, looking at her with an unreadable expression on his face.

“I’m not really in the mood right now, can we stick to ice cream?”

“C’mon, Evans, lighten up a little,” Preston says, a glint of something in his eye. Whatever it is, it makes Lily want to stay ten feet away from him for the rest of her life.

Roger shifts his weight, hand growing damp in hers. “It’s her call.”

“Girls,” Preston chuckles, shaking his head. Roger returns the gesture uneasily and tugs on Lily’s hand.

“We’re going. See you around, Preston.”

“See you soon,” the other boy responds, and then they’re walking across the field, towards the parking lot.

“Preston’s a dick,” Roger says.

“You could’ve at least stood up for me,” Lily responds, “I mean seriously, what was that? ‘Girls?’ Like I’m not right in front of him?”

“With Preston, it’s better to just back away slowly,” Roger replies, a hint of humor in his voice. “Everyone knows he’s like that.”

“And no one says anything?”

“Trust me, it’s best to just leave him alone.”

“And have him spew condescending, borderline sexist shit like that — ”

They’ve reached the parking lot; Roger stops abruptly in front of a white Toyota. “This is mine. I was thinking we could go to the Baskin Robbins?”

Lily takes a deep breath — perhaps the subject change is for the best, anyway. She needs to remind herself why she’s here. Not to change the soccer team’s team culture, but to go on a date with Roger Davies. Smart, handsome, and her crush since freshman year. She pastes a smile back onto her face with minimal effort. “That sounds great.”

He grins back, and they’re off.

***

Lily orders mint chip; Roger takes strawberry. He pays — Lily protests only a little bit — and they sit at an empty picnic table. After a few awkward moments, they find a conversational rhythm. Between licks of ice cream, Roger tells her that his parents are divorced; that he wants to be recruited but is having a hard time getting scouts interested; and, now, that he really, really hates James.

As Roger launches into the first of many anti-James anecdotes, Lily wonders if this is what she sounded like whenever she used to rant about the boy. Surely she wasn’t so bitter, was she?

“… kicked the ball right from under my feet, then laughed about it…”

“Yikes,” Lily responds, wondering when this line of conversation will end. She’s finished her ice cream, and is getting cold; mid November means relatively nice days and lukewarm nights. She shivers, then imagines sending an update to Marlene, Alice, and Dorcas: never imagined i’d spend my first date with roger gossiping about james, but here we are :/. Marlene, Lily thinks, would be sympathetic but suggest changing the subject. Alice would tell Lily to just date James instead — as if that would ever happen, Lily thinks. Dorcas, no doubt, would advise faking an emergency and leaving. Lily does none of those things: instead, she sits, letting both Roger’s words and the cool fall breeze wash over her. She’s not excited, but she’s not bored, either; she’s comfortable, almost sleepy, sitting here. In fact, she could just doze off —

The sound of Roger’s phone ringing interrupts his monologue. He picks it up, and his eyes widen; after a few hushed words, he hangs up, then looks up at Lily apologetically. “I need to go to James’s house. We’re doing team bonding or some shit.”

What?”

“Preston says I should come, and it’s important that I have a good relationship with everyone, even James, in case a scout asks them about me, and —”

“You can go, it’s fine,” Lily says, and she finds that it is, truly, fine. She’s had a nice night; not a great one, but maybe first dates aren’t all they’re cracked up to be (or maybe Roger isn’t all he’s cracked up to be, she thinks, before dismissing the thought guiltily). Roger takes her hand as they walk back towards the parking lot.

“I’ll drive you home before I head over.”

“It’s fine,” Lily responds, knowing that Marlene would be happy to pick her up, if only to get the first scoop on what happened. “You should go.”

He stands, looking vaguely pained as he considers her words. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” Lily replies.

“Okay.”

For a second, they just stare at each other. “I had a lot of fun,” Lily offers.

Roger’s leaning in, so slowly that she can’t be sure that it’s actually happening. “Me too. We should do it again sometime.”

“Definitely.”

He kisses her softly, and then his phone is ringing again. “Shit.”

Lily blinks, caught in an odd feeling of unreality. “Okay. Go. I’ll see you later.”

“Text me when you get home.”

“Right. Bye.”

He gets in his car and drives off, leaving Lily standing in the half-empty parking lot.

***

“Lily, can I ask you an honest question?”

Lily glances over at Marlene, who perches on the opposite end of the couch, mug of hot chocolate cradled in her hands. They’re watching Love, Rosie, Marlene’s favorite movie; two hours have passed since Lily’s date with Roger. “Sure, go ahead.”

Marlene inhales, as if about to jump off of some unseen cliff. “Do you even like Roger?”

For a second, Lily just stares at her friend, then: “What do you mean?”

Another careful breath. “Well, from what you told me about tonight, it didn’t really seem like you enjoyed hanging out with him. I could be wrong, of course. Please tell me if I’m wrong.”

“I don’t know,” Lily responds, testing the words out on her tongue. I don’t know if I like Roger. She can’t quite bring herself to say the words, to admit that defeat; doing so would abolish the one certainty that had lasted from freshman year to now. I don’t know Roger, she realizes. Roger is not who I thought he would be. “I liked sitting there. Listening to him talk. His life is interesting.”

“You find everyone’s life interesting.”

“I liked kissing him.”

“You’ll kiss a lot of people.”

“Why do you care so much, anyway?” Lily asks, suddenly defensive, defensive because Marlene’s right; because Marlene knows her as well as Sev did; because life would be so, so much easier if she could bring herself to like the real Roger as much as she likes the Roger in her head.

“I don’t want you getting into your first relationship with the wrong person.”

“How do you know that he’s the wrong person?”

Marlene leans back, tilts her head back towards the screen. “I don’t. But I think that you do.”

Lily’s phone buzzes: a Snap from Roger, drunk already, Preston in the background. She sighs, turning back towards the TV. “I think you’re right.”

#jily #jily fanfiction #jily fic #jily au #lily evans #lily potter #james potter #marlene mckinnon #james x lily #mine #my writing #harry potter fanfiction #it's not jilytober anymore #oops #mauraders #mauraders au

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