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fics-n-stuff · 3 years

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A Nice Christmas

Thanks to @gayhistorynerd for the prompt, see here (I kind of deviated from it a little maybe a lot but the story still stemmed from this prompt)

Pairing: Wilhelm × Simon

Summary: Wilhelm may have denied being in the sex tape, but that doesn't mean that the world has forgotten. The Christmas break proves to be difficult for both Simon and Wilhelm, one suffering from ongoing harassment and the other feeling completely isolated, and they find that they can't help but be drawn back to each other.

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: This took me so long to write because I got writer's block right after I started it. This doesn't have a super happy ending because I wanted to try and keep it pretty realistic, but it is pretty sweet and wholesome.

Taglist: @probablyprocrastinatingrightnow @rika90 @angelwilhelm

Wilhelm had never felt more alone than he did being home for Christmas break. He spent as much time as was physically possible holed up in his bedroom, not wanting to see or talk to anyone, especially not his mother. He hadn’t turned his phone on for three days, he had bitten his nails down to the nailbeds and he hardly had any appetite. The ache in his chest was constant and unyielding.

He lay in the dark most of the time, his curtains closed throughout the day and only sometimes opened at night to let the moonlight in. Besides that, he didn’t have much idea of how time was passing.

He did know that it was Christmas eve though. And it must be the morning because nobody had come to drag him out of his bedroom to join the celebrations. A cursory peek around the curtain confirmed that, as Wilhelm saw that the sun hadn’t even fully risen yet.

A deep breath settled the stone in his stomach, and he reached for his phone with a shaky hand.

When the device turned on it immediately started going crazy with notifications, and Wilhelm felt his heart rate increase with every buzz.

5 messages from August

Ignore.

10 messages from Mamma

Ignore.

2 missed calls from Felice

Wilhelm paused in swiping away the notifications. Felice had called him twice and sent him three messages. He clicked on the message notification, sitting back against the wall and holding in a breath without realising it.

Felice: Hey Wille, how are you feeling being home?

Felice: I just wanted to check in but I can’t get a hold of you, I hope you’re doing alright

Felice: You probably don’t want to talk but you can call or text me whenever you do

Wilhelm sighed. Of all the people that he thought that he could depend on, Felice was the only one that he still had. He swallowed the lump in his throat and called her back.

It rang for a while before she answered, and he’d almost decided to hang up the call when it stopped ringing.

“Wille, good morning.” Felice greeted, cheerful but clearly tired. “Merry Christmas.”

“Yeah, merry Christmas Felice.” Wilhelm replied feebly. His voice was hoarse from disuse.

“Are you alright? Do you want to talk about something?”

“Uhm, I- I don’t know, I just... I don’t know.” He stuttered, wrapping his free arm around himself.

“Okay, well, what are your plans for today?”

“I’m not sure, I haven’t really been talking to anyone. What, uh, what are your plans?”

“Oh, you know, just the usual. We’ll watch Kalle Anka's Jul and play some games before dinner, then we’ll open presents.” She explained. The tinny sound of her voice through the phone was actually quite calming.

“What about for the rest of the break?”

“Um, I’m going to New York to see Maddie for New Year, so that’ll be fun. And I’m going back to Bjärstad on Boxing Day to see Sara. I’m gonna stay there just for one night.”

“So you’ve been talking to Sara a lot then?” Wilhelm questioned, moving to bite at his almost non-existent nails.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Has she said anything about Simon? Do you know if he’s alright?” His words came out more rushed than he had intended. Clearly, he was more eager for some sort of information on Simon than he had thought.

“Um, she hasn’t said much but I think he’s pretty okay.” Felice replied, but it was followed by a small sigh that let Wilhelm know that there was more to the story. “Sara says that things have mostly gone back to normal, but Simon goes out a lot less and she’s had to make her Instagram private. I think they’ve had a few people show up at their house.”

Wilhelm swallowed hard, a feeling of guilt crawling under his skin. Simon’s Instagram account had been private ever since the video had been leaked, so it seemed that now people had found Sara’s too. They had attention on them that they had never signed up for, and Wilhelm knew that it was his fault and he felt terrible for that.

“Okay.” He replied shakily. There was a short silence before Felice spoke again.

“How are you, Wilhelm? Really?” She asked.

“Lonely.” He answered. “Listen, I have to go. I need to take a shower before someone comes demanding that I take part in the Christmas celebrations.”

“Alright well, call me back whenever, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Bye, Felice.”

“Bye, Wille. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.”

Wilhelm ran a hand over his face, letting out a groan of frustration and sadness. Why couldn’t he just be a normal kid?

He stared down at his phone in his lap, gnawing at the nail of his right thumb in contemplation. With a shaking breath and trembling fingers, he picked it back up, opened his conversation with Simon and typed a short message. He dropped his phone in mild panic as soon as he hit send, and rubbed his hand over his chest as he took a deep, steadying breath.

+ + +

“Simon, wake up. Rosh and Ayub will be here soon.” Sara’s voice stirred Simon from his sleep and he rolled over to look at her. She was already dressed.

“What time is it?” He asked with a yawn.

“Nine o’clock. Get up and come help with breakfast.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m getting up.”

Sara rolled her eyes and left the room, and Simon reached out to his bedside table blindly until his hand landed on his phone. He squinted at the screen as he sat up, faltering when he saw the notification on the screen.

Wilhelm: Merry Christmas Simon

He felt his heart race as he stared at the screen, only snapping out of it when he heard Sara shouting at him from downstairs. He blinked, dropped his phone and set about getting dressed.

Every Christmas eve since they were ten, Simon, Sara, Rosh and Ayub would have breakfast together and then go for a long walk. It was tradition for them at this point, but Simon found himself unable to feel excited for it this year. It was all well and good to pretend like life was going on as normal, but it was hard not to feel uncomfortable when people stared at him everywhere he went.

Rosh and Ayub arrived just as he and Sara were finishing up making breakfast, and they exchanged Christmas well-wishes as they sat down to eat.

“You’re being real quiet over there, Simme. You alright?” Ayub asked after a while, and Simon realised that he’d been completely zoned out.

“Sorry, just thinking.”

“About Wilhelm?” Sara questioned. Simon pushed a bite of food into his mouth and shrugged.

“You have to move on, Simon.” Rosh said. “I know you care about him but he’s not worth all the trouble that he comes with.”

“I know. That’s why I ended things.” He replied. “It still sucks though.”

“You’ll get over him eventually.” Sara told him, putting a comforting hand on his for a few seconds before going back to her food. Simon smiled slightly.

He didn’t tell them about the text.

Despite all of that, he was in high spirits when they set out for their walk, happily joking and laughing with his friends, and they made it half an hour before he heard the first comment.

“That’s the guy from the sex tape.” Muttered a girl to her friend as they passed, and Simon felt the smile fall from his face.

“Just ignore them.” Sara told him, wrapping an arm around one of his. He nodded, but it had gotten to him. For the rest of their walk from that point, Simon felt like every person that they passed was looking at him and judging him.

They walked both Rosh and Ayub back to their houses before heading back to theirs just a bit past noon. They had almost gotten home when they were approached by a group of teenagers probably slightly younger than them.

“Are you the guy from that viral sex tape?” One of the boys asked unabashedly, the group coming right up in front of Simon and Sara and blocking their path.

“Uh, I don’t want to talk about that.” Simon replied stiffly, still trying to be polite.

“Oh my god, it is him!” A girl exclaimed.

“Was it actually the crown prince in the video?” Another chimed. Simon felt lightheaded.

“He already said that it wasn’t.” He deflected, trying to sidestep the group.

“Yeah, but there’s a lot of people that don’t actually believe him.” The girl laughed; actually laughed, as if this hadn’t been an earth shattering event for Simon.

“If it wasn’t Prince Wilhelm then who was it in the video?” A boy asked, and that was when Simon spotted the phone filming him and his stomach dropped.

“I’m not discussing my sex life with a bunch of strangers.” He scoffed in disbelief, shouldering his way past the group with Sara close behind him. “Please leave me alone.”

“You could just tell us if it was actually the prince or not.” One of them pressed, the group now following after Simon. “If it wasn’t him then you don’t have anything to hide.”

“Oh my god, did the royal family pay you off? Did they make you sign an NDA!?”

“Were you, like, boyfriends? Or was it just a hookup?”

Simon kept walking, keeping his head down and not answering any of the questions being hurled at him. He could sense that Sara was just as tense beside him. The group followed them for a full block before Simon finally lost his cool and came to a dead stop, turning to face them.

“I’m not going to answer your questions. The fact that you’re following me is not going to make me answer your questions. I’ve had my privacy majorly invaded once already and now you’re invading it again. I’m trying to enjoy Christmas with my sister and you’re chasing me with a camera, I’m sick of people harassing me.” He fumed, making sure to meet the eye of every one of them at some point. “Whatever you choose to believe is not my problem. It doesn’t matter whether you think that the crown prince is telling the truth or you choose to make up some type of theory, I deserve my privacy.”

He didn’t wait for any type of response before he turned around and walked away, thankful to find that they weren’t going to follow him anymore.

“You handled that well.” Sara said quietly once they had turned the next corner. Simon didn’t reply.

When they got home, he went straight upstairs without a word. He slammed his bedroom door shut and buried his face in his pillow, unable to hold the tears back any longer.

By that same evening, the video was viral.

+ + +

I bet that girl was right and the royal family made him sign an NDA

If he didn’t want people to think it was the prince he would have just said that it wasn’t so either the prince was lying or this guy is seeking attention

He’s literally a kid why can’t people just leave him alone??

I don’t care if it was the prince in the tape or not, this guy is hot

The way he said that people are making up theories makes me think that it actually wasn’t the prince in the video

I feel bad for this guy, getting followed around like that must suck

Wilhelm scrolled through the captions and comments on the seemingly endless posts of the video of Simon, feeling like somebody had a vice grip on his heart.

The first time he saw the video had been right after Christmas Eve dinner. He’d had a full blown panic attack and locked himself in the bathroom for half an hour. When he came out, his mother had tried to talk to him about the politics of the situation and he had immediately retreated into his bedroom once again. He missed Erik desperately.

He hadn’t been able to sleep, he'd only gotten about three hours of broken, fitful sleep all night, and now he couldn’t pry himself away from his phone. He knew that it was bad for him, he knew that it was making him feel terrible, but he wanted to know what people were saying.

He had been hesitant to text Simon, especially since he hadn’t received a reply to the merry Christmas text that he had sent in the morning, but in the end he mustered the courage to reach out. He had asked how Simon was doing and apologised for getting him into this situation. He wasn’t surprised when no answer came.

Christmas day was proving to be probably the worst day of Christmas break for Wilhelm. His chest felt like it was bursting open and like it was an empty chasm at the same time. He didn’t eat breakfast or lunch, he didn’t respond to the knocks that came at his door. He felt like he was trapped in a glass box and someone was shaking it.

Wilhelm didn’t know how long he had been scrolling through multiple different social media platforms when his phone buzzed in his hand and an incoming call appeared on the screen. He faltered, sitting up and almost dropping his phone, when he saw that it was Simon. He ran a nervous hand through his hair as he raised the phone to his ear.

“Simon?” He croaked.

“Hi, Wilhelm.” The reply came through the phone, and Wilhelm felt his shoulders relax at the sound of Simon’s voice.

“Hi. H-how are you.” He fumbled, and Simon sighed on the other end.

“I’m okay, I guess. As okay as I can be after... well, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry for putting you in this situation.”

“This wasn’t your fault, Wille.” Simon muttered. “I just wish things were different.”

“Why, um... why did you call?” Wilhelm asked. There was a short stretch of silence that rung in his ears before Simon answered.

“I just wanted to hear your voice, I guess.” He confessed, and Wilhelm couldn’t help the soft smile that pulled at his lips. “Honestly, I was kind of surprised that you didn’t delete my number or something.”

“Why would I have done that?”

“I don’t know, I guess I just thought that you weren’t supposed to have any ties with me since you said that it wasn’t you in the video.” Wilhelm winced at that.

“It's not like my contacts list is available to the public.” He replied, trying to keep his tone light. “I’m not gonna let that kind of thing get in my head again.”

“Is your mum mad?” Simon asked, and now it was Wilhelm’s turn to sigh.

“I’m not sure, I kind of shut myself in my room so that I wouldn’t have to deal with her.” He answered tiredly. “How is your family?”

“Uh, shaken. Sara’s off in her own world with her sketchbooks and mamá can’t go for more than an hour without checking on us both, but we’re handling it.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise.”

There was a silence again. Wilhelm ran his hand across his leg, back and forth in a soothing motion, not sure what he should say but not wanting the conversation to finish. In the end, Simon spoke first.

“Did you mean it, what you said before you left for the break?” He asked softly.

“Yeah, I did.” Wilhelm answered without hesitation. “I know it wasn’t a good time to say it, and you probably didn’t want to hear it, but I just had to say it out loud. At least once.”

Silence again. Wilhelm heard Simon sigh, and pursed his lips nervously.

“I miss you.” Simon said.

“I miss you too.” Wilhelm replied with a nervous yet relieved chuckle. “I miss you a lot.”

Another pause.

“Where do we go from here, Wille?” Simon whispered.

“I don’t know.” Wilhelm mumbled. “But I... I want to fix this. Or at least just try to fix it. You don’t deserve to be harassed like this, and it’s my fault and I feel terrible.”

“It’s not your fault.” Simon reassured with a sigh. “It was everything else. We still didn’t do anything wrong, and that includes you.”

“No, I did. I promised we would be in this together and I broke that promise.”

“I understand why you did it. And I’m not mad at you. Honestly, having thought about it, you probably made the best decision for my sake too. I mean, I’m getting harassed enough as it is already. I can’t imagine what it would be like if you had told the truth.”

“I’m still sorry anyway.” Wilhelm said softly, and Simon chuckled. “So, um, Felice told me she was visiting Bjärstad tomorrow.”

“Yeah, her and Sara have gotten close. It’s nice, you know, that Sara’s made friends. And Felice is cool.”

“Yeah, she’s great.”

There was silence again, and Wilhelm bit at his nails thinking that Simon was done with the conversation.

“Are you alright, Wille?” Simon asked after a while. “I know this is your first Christmas without Erik, and I guess things with your mum might be a little... well, I just hope you’re okay.”

Wilhelm swallowed. He could lie, pretend he was fine and wave away Simon’s concerns, but he knew the lie probably wouldn’t hold up. Or he could tell the truth and admit how painfully lonely he was, how much he hated being home because the palace felt empty without Erik and how much he longed to be with Simon with every fibre of his being.

“I’m coping.” He sighed, settling for a middle ground of vagueness. “It’s lonely here. The ceilings feel too high.”

“Have you had stuff to do?”

“No, not really. I haven’t really been in the mood for Christmas, but I guess none of us are particularly festive this year anyway.”

“Would you - I mean, if you would even be allowed to, but maybe if you could – would you want to come down here for a day?” Simon asked, and Wilhelm could just picture him fidgeting nervously as he stumbled over his words. The image brought a smile to his face.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” He answered softly. “I’ll try and convince my parents.”

+ + +

Going to Simon’s house had been an absolute no go with his parents. “Just too risky” his mother had said. However, with enough persistence, he managed to wear them down to a compromise.

That was how he ended up in a car on his way back to Hillerska the day after Boxing Day. While Simon’s house had been absolutely off the table, it would be easy enough to get back to Hillerska without being seen. The only people who were there during the break were security and the people who came to take care of the horses.

He had been worried at first that the inconvenience of it would make Simon not want to bother, but when he texted to ask if it was okay he had been met with a quick agreement.

A security guard unlocked the door for him when they arrived, sworn to secrecy of course, and he headed up to his room to wait. He didn’t realise he was biting his nails until there was a knock at the door and he was knocked out of his anxious thoughts.

The door opened slowly, and Wilhelm felt like all of the air was knocked out of his body when he saw Simon step inside, dressed in his beloved purple hoodie under the coat that he took off and draped over the back of a chair that was within reach. The door clicked shut behind him, and silence hung in the air.

“Hey.” Simon greeted finally, and Wilhelm took a deep breath as if he was just remembering how to breathe at all.

“Hey.” He echoed. “How are you?”

“Better.” Simon nodded. “Did you get into a fight with your parents?”

“Yeah, kinda.” Wilhelm muttered. “It’s fine though.”

Simon crossed the room and took a seat beside Wilhelm on the edge of the bed, a good few inches of space between them. It felt like miles.

“You look tired.” Simon commented.

“I’ve been having a hard time sleeping.” Wilhelm replied weakly, eyes downcast, fidgeting with his hands. “I get that way sometimes. It’s fine.”

“Is it?”

He looked over to find Simon watching him, and he practically crumbled under his gaze. He took a very unsteady breath and shook his head.

“No, it sucks.” He mumbled. His hand drifted back up to his mouth and he gnawed on the nail of his thumb nervously.

“Wille, you’re bleeding.” Simon said, gently grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand away from his mouth. Wilhelm looked down at his thumb and saw a bit of blood pooling in the side of the nailbed, becoming aware of the taste of it on his tongue.

“Oh, I didn’t notice.”

“How much have you been biting your nails?” Simon questioned, pulling Wilhelm’s hand towards him to get a look at them. Every nail was jagged and uneven, bitten down to stubs. The skin around them had been bitten at too.

“I don’t know, I do it without realising.” Wilhelm shrugged. “Probably a lot.” He resisted the urge to curl his fingers around Simon’s hand and blinked back the tears that threatened to fall.

“You shouldn’t have to bottle everything in, you’re destroying yourself.” Simon murmured.

“I don’t have anyone to talk to.” Wilhelm’s voice broke halfway through his sentence, a single tear managing to fight its way from his eye. “I used to be able to talk to Erik about at least some of it but now he’s gone and I don’t have anyone, and sometimes it feels like the ground is falling out from under me and I just don’t know what to do.”

He didn’t notice that he was hyperventilating until Simon pulled him into his arms. Wilhelm’s chest was tight, rising and falling rapidly against Simon’s body. Simon's arms were wrapped around him tightly, and Wilhelm was suddenly overwhelmed with how much he had been craving a hug as his hands grasped at the back of Simon’s hoodie and he hid his face in the crook of Simon’s neck.

Wilhelm had always been told not to cry. Ever since he was a child, whenever he began to cry he was told to stop. The seed had planted itself in him when he was very young, but the fear of letting himself cry didn’t truly grow until he once saw an article in a tabloid. He was barely eleven and he had fallen and hurt himself at an event. He had hardly cried, just a few tears and red cheeks, but the tabloid had had plenty to say about it. He hadn’t let himself properly cry since, except for when Erik died. Even then, he had waited until he was completely alone before he let his weakness show. But now, with Simon, he felt an overwhelming need to let his tears fall.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispered into Simon’s shoulder. He could feel the tears coming out of his eyes but they weren’t falling down his face, instead absorbing into the fabric of Simon’s hoodie.

“It’s okay.” Simon soothed, a hand moving up to stroke over the Wilhelm’s hair.

“I never wanted any of this. I never wanted to be a prince.”

“I know.”

“I just wanted to feel normal. Just for once.” Wilhelm said through his tears. “You made me feel normal.”

Simon furrowed his eyebrows, sympathetic. He loosened his hold on Wilhelm and leaned back, sliding the hand that was on the back of Wilhelm’s head forward to rest against his cheek.

“You made me feel normal too.” He replied softly. “At school I was a social outcast because I’m not rich, and at home I have to take care of my mom and Sara. When I was with you, I didn’t feel like I had to take care of anyone or watch where I was stepping. Well, except that one night.” Wilhelm huffed a slight laugh at the comment, lifting a hand to wipe the tears off of his cheeks. “I’ve never seen you cry before.” Simon commented.

“I’m not supposed to.” Wilhelm replied with an awkward chuckle, his head tipping forward in embarrassment. Simon sighed through his nose and lightly touched his forehead to Wilhelm’s.

“You have to cry sometimes, Wille. Everyone cries.”

“I’m not supposed to be everyone.”

“Okay, but sometimes you need to stop worrying about what you’re supposed to be.” Simon told him. “I know you know that.”

Wilhelm took a deep breath. This close to Simon’s face, he could feel his breathing too. He wanted to kiss him, but he didn’t know if that would be okay. He nodded slightly, covering Simon’s hand on his cheek with his own.

“Yeah.” He breathed.

When Simon leaned forward and connected their lips Wilhelm responded automatically, though it took his brain a few seconds to catch up. Once his brain did catch up, his hand took hold of the back of Simon’s neck and pulled him impossibly closer, holding onto this moment like it was his last. Maybe it would be the last time he got to kiss Simon; he couldn’t know. He hoped it wouldn’t be.

“Thanks for coming to see me.” Simon said when they broke apart.

“Thanks for wanting to see me at all.” Wilhelm replied. “I really missed you.”

Simon hummed, a faint smile playing at his lips. He watched Wilhelm for a few moments before kicking off his shoes.

“Come here.” He said, shuffling over the bed towards the wall. Wilhelm followed suit and allowed himself to be guided down to a lying position, Simon’s chest against his back and arm around his waist. “You need to sleep.”

“It’s the middle of the day.” Wilhelm protested, weak as the protest may have been.

“People have naps all the time, and you know that you need it.” Simon said firmly, adjusting the pillow under his head with his free arm and finding Wilhelm's hand to hold in the other. “It doesn’t have to be for long, okay?”

“Okay.” Wilhelm nodded, feeling suddenly very relaxed. He took a deep breath settling into the comfort and warmth of Simon’s body around his as his eyes fell shut. “This is nice.” He mumbled after a while.

“Yeah.” Simon agreed softly. “Go to sleep, Wille.”

It wasn’t long until he felt Wilhelm’s breathing change, signifying that he had fallen asleep. He smiled, fondly but with an edge of sadness to it, and pressed a light kiss to Wilhelm’s shoulder before closing his own eyes. They would deal with the rest of the world when they woke up.

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thewickedmerman · 3 years

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My Theory on the Magic in The Swan Princess

As many of you know, I absolutely ADORE The Swan Princess, its hand drawn sequels, and the fandom in general. Being a MASSIVE fan, I’ve heard criticism about the original trilogy even before the CGI sequels came into in existence. That’s something I either counter with correcting things they got wrong (Because people very frequently get things wrong about these movies) or just taking it with a grain of salt. However, one thing people point to is how the magic in The Swan Princess movies is confusing. Well, I’m here to explain how I think the magic works in the world of The Swan Princess. First of all, I’m only taking into account the hand drawn movies because the third movie was originally supposed to be the last movie and it really shows because of how there is a lot of continuity errors in the CGI movies. Now lets dive in.

Lets start with the original movie and how Derek’s vow of everlasting love didn’t work, despite that he said it was for Odette. It’s stated in the movie that he has to make a vow of everlasting love and prove it to the world. That is a statement that is vague enough to have plenty of grey area to mean anything. Odette wasn’t even sure how Derek would be able to prove it to the world. While Derek believed that proclaiming his love to Odette at the ball would be enough, it really wasn’t. What I interpret as proving it to the world is that Derek has to prove it to Odette, who is his entire world, as your true love is meant to be. At this point, Derek still hadn’t proven his love to Odette beyond just her beauty and as Odette said to her father, “I need to know that he loves me, for just being me.” While Odette does love Derek, she needs to know for sure he loves her for who she is and not just for her appearance. One might argue that the fact that he has been searching for her for a year, which the makers of the film confirmed is how long Odette was under Rothbart’s captivity, without giving up would be enough to prove it.

Skip to 2:26 to see the confirmation on how long Odette was in Rothbart’s captivity

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However, Odette still needed to hear what he loves about her beyond just her beauty. Derek clearly does but had a hard time expressing himself, so he thought proclaiming his words of love at the ball will be enough. If you pay attention to his vow, it’s rather vague and doesn’t really say anything about who Odette is as a person, so it made Odette doubt that he could tell the difference between her and someone who just looks like her. Derek is skeptical of The Black Swan but still proclaimed his love, believing her to be the real Odette. However, since his vow was vague and didn’t really express his feelings for Odette, it wasn’t really specific enough to apply to the real Odette. He didn’t prove his love to the real Odette, so his vow not working because it was to the wrong girl makes sense when you think about it, despite that he said it was for Odette.

“Kings and queens! Ladies and Gentlemen!... Mother... I have an announcement to make. Today, I have found my bride. I present her to you as the future queen of our fair kingdom. And as proof of my love for her, I make a vow to break all vows. A vow stronger than all the powers of the Earth. Before you and before the whole world, I make a vow of everlasting love to Odette.”

Some have also questioned why the vow to the wrong girl would kill Odette, likely because it was stated much later in the film. However, it makes perfect sense when you think about it. A vow of everlasting love from the man she loves is what would free her from the spell she’s under, so it only makes sense that her true love proclaiming his love to someone who isn’t her would be what killed her. True love will set her free but the failure of true love will be her undoing. It also made sense for Rothbart to cast a spell that had these consequences because he probably believed it would pressure her into marrying him because if Derek moved onto someone else, she would die. Rothbart had the power to remove the spell permanently and he would’ve done so had she agreed to marry him in order for him to obtain her father’s kingdom. What he didn’t count on was that Odette wasn’t so easily submissive and had too strong a will for him to break. Odette even stated that she’d die before she’d marry Rothbart.

People have also questioned how Odette was brought back to life both in the original movie and in the third movie. I can explain both because while they are different, they have similar explanations. Odette’s death in the third movie was explained by the makers of The Swan Princess in the Q&A section of their monthly Chamberg Daily, which was actually a question that I asked. They explained that since it was magic that killed Odette, with both the magic user dead and the magic source destroyed, all the damaged caused by the magic was reversed.

Skip to 2:34 to hear their explanation

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Since in the third movie, Odette was brought back to life once both Zelda and The Forbidden Arts were destroyed, it fits in with explaining how Odette was brought back to life in the original movie. Derek had killed Rothbart but Odette was still unconscious and didn’t immediately wake up once Rothbart was defeated. There is a reason for that, which goes along with what they said. Rothbart was destroyed but the source of his magic, The Forbidden Arts, wasn’t. As we learn in the second movie, The Forbidden Arts were hidden away deep in the castle at Swan Lake. After Rothbart had lost his power before by not keeping his magic hidden well enough, he wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice. The only ones that knew where they were hidden were Rothbart, Bridget (Also known as The Hag), Clavius, and Zelda.

Anyway, since the source of Rothbart’s power still existed, the magic still had a hold over Odette enough to where she was still under the spell and the consequences of Derek’s actions were still present. However, Odette was no longer dead but rather in a coma where she hung between the balance of life and death. Since she was now merely in a coma, she could hear everything going on around her, so she could hear Derek proclaim his love of everlasting love to her. But this time, he wasn’t as vague and was more personal in his declaration of love by stating that he had always loved her for her kindness and courage. He thought he had lost her forever and when someone loses someone they love, they are able to say all the things they couldn’t say before but now with regret for not saying it while the one they loved was alive. Derek was lucky enough to get that second chance because his vow of everlasting love was heard by the woman he loved and considered to be his entire world, which was enough to break the spell and awake her from her coma. Puffin even said, “Well, there you have it. Everlasting love,” so that is the movie acknowledging that everlasting love is what saved Odette.

In a way, this logic also applies to how Odette was able to turn back into a human in the second movie. While there wasn’t really a magic user that turned Odette into a swan but rather just Bridget, who didn’t actually absorb the magic like the villains did, using the orb. If Bridget had actually absorbed the magic, she would’ve used it on Clavius in order to keep him from getting the orb. So there wasn’t a magic user until Clavius absorbed the magic. However, once the orb and Clavius were destroyed, Odette still remained a swan. Why? Because The Forbidden Arts still weren’t gone. Rothbart’s notes, which were the formula for The Forbidden Arts, still existed. So this meant that there was still a flicker of magic left that kept her as a swan. However, since the powers were much weaker now, it meant that the moonlight could change Odette back into a human again and it wasn’t strong enough to change her back into a swan again when the moonlight left the lake.

This brings us back to the third movie where it was magic that killed Odette, which is much different from how her father was killed by Rothbart, which wasn’t really by magic, other than Rothbart using his magic to change himself into The Great Animal. Her father remained dead because his death wasn’t caused by magic, where as both times that Odette died, it was because of magic (Jean Bob’s death in the second movie was, I guess caused by magic, so Odette’s transformation managed to bring him back as well). However, once Zelda, the orb, and Rothbart’s notes were destroyed, it meant there was absolutely no source of magic left. This allowed Odette to arise from the ashes of what killed her and return to life in her human form because there was nothing to keep her dead or to keep her in her swan form after coming back to life.

Well, thank you guys for taking the time to read this. I hope you guys like it, reblog, and comment letting me know what you think. Also, did you know that The Swan Princess has an OFFICIAL Youtube, Facebook, Tumblr, and Instagram? They even interact with fans A LOT! Take a look!

https://www.instagram.com/swanprincessofficial/

@theswanprincessofficial

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCm_Q3k32sEVQbrANS7-vSjA

https://www.facebook.com/official.swanprincess

#the swan princess #the forbidden arts #odette #princess odette #rothbart #zelda #clavius #swan #swan lake #magic #theory #prince derek #everlasting love #vow of everlasting love #the black swan #odile

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aomineavenue · 4 years

Text

Homesick (Miya Atsumu x f!Reader) | 005. confessions

Summary: Six years ago, L/N Y/N wouldn’t exactly say that she loves her life. It had always been problematic but her best friend, Miya Atsumu, since she was eight when she moved to Hyōgo, has always been there for her, and she wouldn’t change it for the world. However, things would always fall apart for her ever since, so she should have expected of such. Running away from her problems seemed like the easiest route to take at the time, so what happens when the past comes barging back into her life demanding answers? Will she be able to confront her demons?

Pairings: Miya Atsumu x f!Reader

Updates: irregular.

Genre: Angst, ANGST I LOVE ANGST, a lil bit of fluff here and there.

Warnings: Language, etc. (Will be mentioned once posted because I don’t want spoilers huehue)

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters except for the reader and my ideas. I do not claim any images used for content in this fic, everything goes out to their respective creators unless it is mentioned that it is mine.

Status: ongoing. | series masterlist

↩ confrontations | confessions | dinner disaster ↪

“Are you stupid?” Atsumu lets out a dry laugh, running his fingers through his hair in frustration, “I felt the same way, fuck. I think my feelings for her had always been there and–Fuck, I just didn’t know what to do after what we had.”

Being on the receiving end of Atsuhiko's displeasure was something you never wanted to experience again. However, despite being upset over recent events, you couldn't help but feel this was all your fault to begin with. Maybe, if you had just been honest to the twins from the very start when they had bombarded you with questions on the whereabouts of their missing father then maybe, you wouldn't be going through such an experience once again, this time though, no one could break through Atsuhiko's built up walls.

Ever since the bomb that Atsumu had dropped on Atsuhiko of you keeping them a secret from their own father, your little boy refused to talk to you. If it wasn't for his twin brother, he wouldn't have bothered to visit the hospital knowing that you would be present within the vicinity. Apparently, it took Reiji a while to persuade the little boy to agree to even visit his twin. Even so, your little boy avoided you and it broke your heart, the vision of his betrayed features that day at the Sports Complex, repeating in your mind like a broken record.

Atsuhiro, despite being upset by what his brother shared, thankfully, didn't give you the silent treatment like his brother had. Though he had voiced his displeasure of what had come to light, he only claimed that he didn't want to see you sad too.

You had asked everyone in attendance in the hospital room that morning, prior to Reiji arriving with Atsuhiko, that when they were to arrive, they were to leave you with the twins. Knowing that coming clean probably wouldn't change a thing to Atsuhiko's behavior towards you. It was better than nothing. You also knew that if Atsuhiko were to protest, you were positive that Atsuhiro could plead with his brother to stay.

Now there you were, seated next to Atsuhiro on the hospital bed with him huddled closer to your side, awaiting the other twin to arrive with Reiji.

You lowered your head, resting your chin atop of his head as the two of you watch his current favorite anime in Asuma's tablet that he lent to the little boy to keep him occupied during his stay in the hospital. Aside from the company of his uncles, he enjoys the amount of shows his Uncle Asuma had downloaded for him to watch when visiting hours are over or when Asuma was around to visit, the two of them sharing interests in various anime films.

The sound of the door sliding open interrupted your thoughts and brought your attention over to the little boy that had entered. The very sight was enough to clench your heart. As the hospital door slid shut, the little boy by the door let out a heartbreaking cry before rushing himself over to bed where you and his brother occupied, climbing himself onto the mattress and throwing his arms around you. It only took a few seconds to feel his tears dampening your t-shirt, and you let your own tears fall.

"Mommy, I—I'm sorry!" He cries out, his grip around your neck tightening as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, his voice becoming muffled from his actions, "I don't hate you, mommy! I don't! I don't! I'm sorry for being a bad boy!"

Your own arms find their way around his tiny body, pulling him closer to a much more comfortable position. "It's okay, baby."

“Please don't be angry with me, mommy.” He sobs against your neck and you try your best to soothe him by rubbing his back to calm him down. You press a kiss to the top of his head before pulling him away from your body which he protests at first by tightening his grip around your neck but when you had succeeded, you cupped his face in your hands and stroked his cheeks with the pads of your thumb. Your own gaze growing glossy from the tears that had formed from all the emotions you were feeling at that very moment. “Love me, mommy?”

You let out your own cry before nodding your head twice, wiping your little boy’s tears away with your thumbs before lowering your head to press your forehead against his own, “Mommy will always love you, baby. I’m not angry with you Hiko, I love you so much. Mommy’s the one who’s sorry.”

“Promise, mommy?” he questions for some reassurance, his lower lip almost quivering. “You’re not angry? I promise I didn’t mean it!”

A croaky laugh escapes your lips, nodding your head as you sat right back up, your back pressing against the headboard of the hospital bed, “Yes, Hiko. I’m not angry. But can you promise mommy one thing?”

He wipes his tears away with the back of his hands, which you put a stop to as soon as he began rubbing his eyes that could cause irritation. Settling his hands down, he looks up at you with his lower lip jutting out to a pout as he gives you a nod. “What, mommy?”

“Promise me,” you start, extending your arm out to tap the tip of his nose as your brows furrow, “that you’ll stop listening to adult conversations, it’s not nice Atsuhiko.”

His shoulders slump in defeat. He had probably realized you were going to lecture him on his behavior, and no amount of explanations would get him out of trouble. All he had left to do was to give you his best puppy dog eyes. At the sight of this, Atsuhiro who had been watching the whole interaction snorted. Upon hearing Hiro, his plan to win you over disappeared to send a glare towards his brother, which his twin responded by sticking his tongue out at him.

Before you could reprimand the two for their silly behavior, Atsuhiko returns to look at you with those pleading eyes. “What can I do for you, Hiko?”

His sudden confidence to question you falters and he tears his gaze away from yours, lowering them to look at his hands. He suddenly remembers the previous night where he had received an earful from his Uncle Reiji for his actions and he had cried to his uncle, asking questions that the man couldn’t answer himself. However, the night took a turn when his Uncle Reiji tried his best to explain your side without going into depth, knowing that it wasn’t his story to tell. His Uncle Reiji made him promise to apologize for his actions, claiming that you have been more than upset from hearing the words of hate that came out of his mouth and from giving you the cold shoulder. At the mere thought you being angry at him was enough for the boy to calm down, settling beside his Uncle Reiji as he cried himself to sleep, vowing to apologize to you the next day and asking you properly for the answers he had been yearning for himself.

“Hiko?” you call out, trying to gain his attention. Hiro, from beside you, pauses the show he had been watching and places the tablet down on his lap, looking at his brother in curiosity, probably realizing what his brother was about to do. Of course, he wouldn’t stop his brother as he, too, was curious himself.

“Can you…” he trails off in a mumble, curling his fingers into fists as his shoulders grow tense before tilting his head back to meet your gaze once more, his eyes full of desperation and determination, “please, tell us about our daddy.”

Despite knowing yourself that Atsuhiko was to question you, the very sight of your son’s pleading gaze was enough to catch you off guard. You turn your head to look over at Atsuhiro, who had shifted his gaze up to look at you. He was his usual calm self, but his eyes were enough to tell you he shared the same desire for answers as his brother. You let out a sigh of defeat and exhaustion, nodding your head slowly. It was time. It wasn’t as if you could avoid this forever.

“Do you two really want to know?” you ask despite knowing the answer to such a question, maybe, just maybe, a little part of you was hoping they would decide that it would be best not to know. However, seeing their eager nods, you knew there wasn’t any way that you could back out of such.

So you began your story, starting of how you met their father. How at the very beginning, there wasn’t much of a choice due to the fact that their father was extremely persistent, never leaving your side. It never really helped how you would always end up in the same class as he was. You told them that eventually; you considered their father as your best friend. Someone you could count on and always reach out to when you needed someone to talk to. And you told them, along the way of said friendship, you eventually fell in love.

“Did daddy not love you back? Is that why he didn’t want us?” Hiro whispers, sadness clear in his tone.

“Oh Hiro,” you let out a soft cry as you shake your head, wrapping an arm around him to pull him closer to your side, “I’m sorry Hiro,” you whisper before turning your attention over to Hiko, who was having difficulty in controlling his features, “I’m sorry, Hiko. But I never told your daddy about two of you.”

“Why?” Hiko cries out, somehow his anger returning. If it were not for Hiro who reached out for him, he would have probably reacted way worse, “I thought daddy hated us…”

You let out a shaky sigh, not knowing how to explain everything to the twins, something that they wouldn’t understand. They were too young. This was all your fault. “I’m sorry. Mommy was just afraid. I think mommy was afraid because she knew daddy didn’t love her the way she loved him.”

“So ‘Sumsum is our daddy?” Hiro questions, his brows furrowing as you nod.

“Do you still love daddy?”

You stare at Hiko across from you who had asked the question. And as you racked through your head for any form of answer, you couldn’t.

Did you still love Atsumu?

For the last couple of days, Atsumu had been a mess. Obviously, anyone who would have gotten their complete life turned upside down would be, wouldn’t they?

Ever since that day, from Atsuhiko’s cries and your appearance, he had refused to leave the apartment he was staying in with Bokuto and Hinata. He had refused to return to training, knowing he wouldn’t be able to focus anyway, nor would he interact with anyone else, ignoring his teammates and the people who had been reaching out to him through his phone. It was because he was occupied with his thoughts, the conversation with Atsuhiko and you especially, had been replaying in his head for the last couple of days and it was enough for anyone to go insane.

How could have this happened? He had kids? With you? What the actual fuck?

He didn’t know what to feel. Of course, the dominant emotion was anger, but he didn’t know what he was angry at more. Angry at you? Yes, obviously. You had kept such a big secret from him. What angered him the most was that you deprived him of raising his own two sons.

He didn’t know why; it wasn’t as if he wanted to be a father at such a young age, nor did he see himself as a father in his near future, but at the thought of his chances on witnessing Atsuhiko and Atsuhiro’s childhood being ripped out from his hands was enough to break his heart, enough for him to be angry at you for depriving him of the chance. Needless to say, the volleyball player was confused. He didn’t know why he was hurting from the fact that he wasn’t given the chance to raise them from the very start. A few times he had asked himself if a part of him wanted to be recognized as their father. What did he want?

He remembers the days he had spent with the twins, his sons. Sure, he admits, a part of him had found himself excited to see the twins now and then. He had grown fond of them ever since Bokuto had introduced those two to him, and the fact those two had been equally excited to learn volleyball made him look forward to seeing them at the sports complex. It was true; it took time for them to get used to his presence, but he remembers the days where Atsuhiro would look excited to see him and beg him to teach the killer serve he had demonstrated days prior.

He suddenly is reminded of the interaction between Atsuhiko and Bokuto, how the two were often like two peas in the pod or how Atsuhiko tries his best to mimic Bokuto’s actions, the little boy always excited to see his teammate. What was this feeling? Why is his anger suddenly shifting over to Bokuto? Jealousy? No, it couldn’t be.

Letting out a groan of frustration, he rolls himself onto his back on the bed and stares up at the ceiling. His frustration was growing due to the fact that he couldn’t seem to figure out his feelings and sort them out.

While we’re in the case of jealousy, his thoughts suddenly shift to the man who would often bring the twins over for training. The man he knew as Shizuma, another man the twins considered as their uncle. Who was he to you that you trusted him so much to take care of his sons for a long period of time? And who was that man that you brought along with that day? Who were they to you? Wait, his sons? He lets out another groan of frustration. Was he really admitting the fact that those twins were really his?

“You look like shit.”

He snaps his attention over to the intruder, his brows furrowing at the sight of his own twin. Another person he had been refusing to see. “What do you want?”

“You need to get your shit straight,” Osamu claims and he couldn’t help but scoff, rolling his eyes as he lays himself back down on the bed, “I’m serious. I understand your anger towards her, but what you said was out of line.”

Atsumu grumbles, fluttering his eyelids shut. “What do you know about understanding my feelings? You don’t. I don’t give a fuck about her right now, last I remember she ran away without a goodbye and now she comes back out of a blue? And her kid is spouting bullshit about me being the father? Don’t tell me you believe her, ‘Samu.” He pushes himself to sit as he flutters his eyelids back open to meet his brother’s gaze, “Which reminds me, why were you with her that day? Tell me, have the two of you been in contact ever since? Have you lied to me all this time about not knowing where she is? You two been fucking around behind my back? You’re probably the father, aren’t you? And you two just want to mess with my head?”

“Are you done?”

Atsumu scoffs, narrowing his gaze at his brother. “No! I’m not fucking done! I’m furious, Osamu. What the fuck is going on? Why is this happening?”

“If you would calm down for even just a second and not spout bullshit from that irritating mouth of yours every few seconds then maybe, just maybe, she would have let her walls down and explained. But no,” Osamu matches his brother’s glare with his own, “You accuse her of sleeping around when the only person she has ever been with back then was you. Don’t think the two of you were slick sneaking around with that ridiculous relationship back in high school. Have you ever stopped for a moment back then and realize that your own best friend was head over heels for you?”

“Of course I knew!” he confesses, the guilt feeling heavy on his shoulders. “I knew. Of course I fucking knew. I knew before anything even happened between us.”

Osamu shakes his head in disappointment, “You’re my brother and all, but you’re an asshole. And what? You continued with that ridiculous relationship with her, anyway? For what?”

Osamu lets out a sigh as he watches his brother crumble before him, the truth he’s known, finally escaping his brother’s lips, “I knew you were stupid, I just didn’t think you were this stupid. Well, you can’t blame her for running away.”

“Doesn’t mean I should be less angry.” he grumbles.

The other twin steps further into the room to give his brother a good smack on the head, Atsumu yelping out in pain before glaring up at his brother, “Sure, she kept this from you but she has the right to be just as angry with you for what you did. But screw that for now, get your ass up and do something about this. Get over it because Atsuhiro, your son, needs you more than you know.”

At the mention of Atsuhiro, his anger deflates upon remembering the last time he saw the other little twin, who had collapsed right before his eyes. “How is he? Is he okay? What happened?”

Osamu straightens himself as he watches his brother’s features shift to worry, slipping his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “Are you satisfied with what came out of my idiotic brother’s mouth?”

Atsumu’s brows furrowed in confusion at his brother before flickering his attention over to the man that stepped inside, letting out a huff of irritation. “What are you doing here?”

“As much as I hate you,” he starts, sending his own glare towards the volleyball player seated on the bed, “I care about those kids and the two of you need to fix your shit.”

You let out your nth sigh of the hour in the backseat of Reiji’s car, looking uninterested at the buildings that passed by. You didn’t know why you agreed to be dragged by Asuma and Reiji in the first place; you didn’t want to leave Atsuhiro’s side as much as you could. “Where are we even going?”

Reiji meets your irritated gaze from the rear-view mirror, a chuckle leaving his lips as he shifts his attention back on the road, “Asuma and I just decided to take you for dinner tonight. Is that such a bad idea? You’re too stressed. Dinner at your favorite restaurant might just do the trick. Plus, I’m pretty sure you hate the hospital food.”

“Yeah,” Asuma adds with a grin as he turns slightly in his seat from the front, “We got to pamper our amazing and beautiful manager now and then.”

Another sigh escapes your lips, which causes Asuma to chuckle. You furrow your brows at him. “I get that, but I don’t really see why I should pamper myself if my kids aren’t having any fun themselves.”

“I get your worries, babe. I really do.” Asuma nods but tries to give you the best smile of assurance that he could muster, “but how will you be able to take care of the boys when you’re not taking care of yourself? Let us do this for you, okay?”

Well, it wasn’t as if you could protest anymore since they had successfully dragged you away. Eventually, you find yourself in front of the restaurant you’ve mentioned a couple of times to your friends, vowing to return as much as you could.

As you enter the welcoming restaurant, you couldn’t help but let a small smile form on your lips at the memories created with your friends and as the three of you are guided through the vast restaurant, the enticing aroma exciting your taste buds. And despite your reluctance, a sudden wave of happiness and relief washes over you. Maybe this was something that you actually needed, you’ll have to thank Asuma and Reiji afterwards.

Or maybe not.

Because as the restaurant host leads you to your table, your eyes fall upon the other party seated around the designated table. Bokuto loudly interacting with someone he was seated next to, someone unfamiliar to you with an unruly orange shade of hair while Osamu, next to him, looking at you apologetically. However, that wasn’t what caused the muscles in your shoulders to grow tense.

It was him.

And how he called out your name, looking at you with desperation in his eyes.

You were so giving Asuma and Reiji a piece of your mind.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu imagines #hq #hq x reader #hq imagine #hq imagines #atsumu x reader #atsumu x you #atsumu imagine #atsumu imagines #haikyuu atsumu #homesick #miya x reader #miya imagine

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peeterparkr · 4 years

Text

perfidy;tom holland|17

chapter 17: the actors

enemies to lovers au/enemies with benefits

chapter summary: tom and y/n want to rule the world alone

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: angsty, fluff, Tom gets drunk, didn’t proof read

word count: 8.6k whoooops

here’s a playlist

and here’s another one

and here’s another one inspired by 1D

social media before you read (IMPORTANT FOR THE CHAPTER) :

tweets, texts and instagram: with Tom and y/n on their date and giving no updates to their friends

previous chapter next chapter series masterlist wanna be tagged?

Hi, it came early again! This is angsty because well it was coming but because Taylor released Folklore, go stream it!!! and i’m sad because of 1D so :)

A rain was falling down in a clear sky.

Timothée. A perfect name. Perfect eyes, perfect nose, perfect lips. Perfect guy. Everybody said it. Everybody saw it. A melodic laugh that would be heard all across the room, bright eyes that were only meant to look at y/n. The curls falling down on his forehead and the bright beam everytime she looked at him. The gentle whispers, secret kisses. The way they finished each other’s sentences and the way they sometimes had coordinated outfits without them even trying. The way he was in her kind of scene, and the way he always managed to picture her in her brightest glory, the way he pictured her being her. Because she was herself whenever she was around him. Never faking, always laughing. The way she’d be calm, and not doubting, not fearing. The way he fit her description of her perfect guy. As if they’d made him out of her dreams, sculpting it. A Greek sculpture, but hey, they guy only spoke in Greek tragedies.

Tom was very well aware that the damned guy was everything y/n could’ve asked for. From the first moment he’d met him, Tom knew that y/n would completely fall in love with him. Y/N would end up with him. And he’d seen her fall in love with him, as Tim would watch her as she danced around the room, spinning that strawberry--or were they cherries?-- dress she loved to wear. He’d seen her sing around him, because she trusted him. Tom saw Y/N find her happy place. Fucking Timothée.

And he hated it was with Tim. Because he knew that Tim had been the one to be there when he broke her heart. When it should’ve been Harry. Even all of this crafted shit, Tom had fucked it up, because Harry had also distanced himself from y/n.

And all because he had fucked up. If that night he had had the guts to accept it.

He wondered whether Harry would’ve been heartbroken or not. Correction, he wondered how heartbroken his brother would have been. And he remembered how for the first time, after that, Harry had ignored him. So angry at him.

But nobody knew what Tom had gone through. How many times had he stopped himself from going to her and try to say he hadn’t meant it, to try and kiss her, mend her heart. When his own heart broken. And he had been lonely too, and he also hadn’t gone out. He didn’t have the energy, he only stared at the ceiling, asked questions that had no answers.

And they hadn’t spoken after that, not even after y/n was slowly coming back into his life. He had gone filming, and sometimes he’d shed a tear but no one would know it.

And then one day, y/n was talking to Harry again, and he heard her voice over the phone, and his heart had stopped. And he wanted to say he was sorry, and he wondered if she knew that he was also destroyed.

And then, a party, James’ birthday, maybe. He couldn’t remember. And he had seen her, and she had avoided his gaze and he only wanted to scream everything he’d ever felt. But he had kept it to himself.

And then, he saw him, Tim. A new friend of y/n’s Harry said. And Tom saw the way Tim looked at her, and the way he had made her smile. A smile Tom hadn’t seen in months. All because he had fucked up, Tim had taken away his chance.

Did y/n see Tom? Did y/n see that Tom was also anxious and breaking? Did y/n ever listen to what he wanted to say?

Y/N had approached James, and then was speaking with whoever had crossed her path. And Tom knew it was wrong, and he wondered if she had thought about calling him, too. If they had stared at the phone at the same time. If she ever wanted him to go to her door.

Timothee had approached Harry and him. Tom stared at him, up and down.

“So, I don’t know you,” Tom chuckled. “Hi, I’m Tom.”

“Oh, I finally meet you, Tom, I’m Timothée.”

And it sounded like one of the silly names y/n would come up for in her stories. A bloody main character.

“Are you… y/n’s….?” Tom asked.

Harry chuckled. “They’re just friends.”

Timmy had smiled. “Yeah, for now.”

Tom had hidden his frown and faked a laugh. “Oh, so you do want to date her?”

Harry had pursed his lips and then watched Tim.

Timothée had cleared his throat. “Yeah, she’s... “ And he had looked back at her, y/n had given Tim a faintly embarrassed smile, she had blushed. “she’s just like a song, or a movie, she’s splendid. She is a main character, isn't she?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean,” Tom had said.

“Look at her, she just stands out in a crowd, and I swear I can hear her voice across the room and it’s music to my ears,” Tim explained. “There’s so much mystery to her, I—.”

Tom had to agree, and she was wearing that golden dress that made her perfectly different from everyone in the room. Bright as she could be, red lips and hair flowing.Y/N then looked back at them, and then she finally crossed eyes with Tom, her smile had faded away, and she had quickly looked away.

“You’ll finally ask her out, then?” Harry chuckled. “It’s been taking you long enough.”

Tim grinned. “Yeah, I just want her to be ready,” he explained. “She… Did she recently go through a breakup or-?”

Tom had felt a stab across his chest, no, not a breakup, a heartbreak possibly.

“No,” Harry shook his head. “But y/n is very complicated.”

“Very,” Tom added. “Too complicated, you don’t want to get there. She’s too crazy.”

Tim chuckled. “And she mentioned you were her biggest enemy.”

Harry laughed. “Yeah, he is so don’t listen to him.”

Of course, from what he had initially seen, he thought Timmy didn’t have a chance. Sure the guy was perfect but y/n probably wouldn’t give him a chance.

And it had started.

“Y/N’s new boyfriend is perfect isn’t he?” His mother had once said. “He’s such a sweetheart.”

And he had heard it once, and twice and everyone was saying it, at an early Christmas dinner y/n’s family had thrown.

“He’s the guy she’ll end up marrying,” y/n’s mother, Elaine, had said. “It’s just amazing how good they are for each other.”

“Yeah, I must admit it, that Tim really has won her over, and not only her, all of us,” James had said.

“She’ll be spending Christmas with his family, in France we will see how it goes, he’s a good guy,” Richard, y/n’s dad had mentioned. “She’ll probably come back with a ring in her hand. I’ve never seen her happier.”

“This Timmy guy, really, I’m glad she found him. She finally needed to date someone who treated her like the queen she is,” Sam had mentioned.

And Tom knew it had been lost when even Harry had said it.

“They’re perfect for each other. I am so happy she’s happy.”

And if Harry was happy, when he had been in love with her. Then Tom should be, too, right?

Then why wasn’t he?

But all of them had been wrong, right? All of them had been completely and utterly wrong because y/n had not accepted the marriage proposal. Y/N couldn’t have been as happy as everyone had claimed she had been. Tim had been right where Tom should’ve been.

Problem was, Tom knew she had been. And even if she had said that she had loved Tom, there was a part of Tom that knew that y/n had been lying about that statement. Because y/n had actually fallen in love so deeply with Timothee, and because Tom was well aware that he was only just for a little bit, to cease her thoughts. Tom knew y/n would end up realizing that Tom wasn’t what she wanted him to be. Because Tom was not Timmy.

And Tom had that very present. That’s probably why he had searched for a thousand things to do with her, the film museum, then the picnic at the park, then maybe a philharmonic. Everywhere that Tim would’ve taken her. Because Tom feared that y/n would realize how different they were.

And Tom feared that she had her heartbreaks very present. And that Timmy had been the one to pull her out of them.

When he had found the ring, it made it even more present, y/n had kept it. Sure she had said no, but her no had meant “not yet”. The ring had meant that she, yes, wanted to know what it felt like to date Tom, but she’d eventually run back to Tim, because he was her endgame.

But she had gone to give it back. And maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. If she hadn’t given it back on her own, she probably was still holding on to him.

The fantasy had tumbled down in less than 5 minutes. And it seemed so crazy, less than 24 hours. They’d gone from her having dinner with Tim, with him admitting his feelings, with her saying she was in love too, to the perfect date and now. Back to reality. Knowing that their promises and apologies had barely meant anything at all. It would eventually fall out.

Because Tom also feared that all of this was some sort of revenge y/n was planning and that she’d go back to Tim and be happy.

Because they were both right, and they knew that they didn’t trust each other. And he was selfish. He didn’t want y/n to ever be around Timothée. But he knew that he could never control y/n, not that he wanted to. But he had the right.

He remembered it, when they dated. How he’d be in the worst state each time Timmy placed his hand on her hips, or his lips on her skin. He hated it. He despised it. How he wished to be in his place.

And even know that he knew that y/n probably was breaking Tim’s heart he couldn’t help but think about it, how with one kiss Tim could probably make her leave Tom. That’s all it took him, his fingers to delicately brush against her arm. That’s the power Tim had over y/n.

And now he was calling her, he wanted her to be back already. Even if Tom was in shambles.

He took out the alcohol bottles from the minibar, downing a shot of whiskey, he felt the warm liquor burn his throat. What if Tim caressed her cheek? What if with one look y/n realized the big mistake Tom was?

He called her.

Straight to voicemail. Tom tapped his foot anxiously. He needed another shot. He couldn’t wait for her right there.

So he went down to the hotel bar. And he didn’t know if he was worried more about the fact she was with Timmy or that she was alone in a city like New York. He kept calling her, it rang a few times but then to voicemail.

Tom ordered a gin and tonic, first, then a beer, and then a scotch and he ignored everybody in the room. He only kept trying to call her, and he texted only asking if she was okay.

And she answered a simple yes.

Which drove Tom crazier. He downed another drink. His body warming up, not sure if it was with rage, jealousy, or the alcohol. He clenched his jaw, she drove him completely insane. It would leave nowhere.

He ignored his phone, everything, he only listened to the band that played gentle slow rock that was playing at the bar. And he kept waiting. Picturing the worst.

But suddenly he had seen her walking into the bar, too, after a while, after yet more beers and another scotch. And he stopped to see if it was truly her. Undeniably, it was her. Slightly smudged mascara under her eyes, and a trace of her crying, but her lipswere bright red. She hadn’t seen him, she had sat near the band, ordered a gin and tonic, first, too. He only saw how her lipstick stained the glass. She seemed… angry, sad, confused. Tom could read those emotions just fine, the usual face she’d sketch whenever he was around.

At least she wasn’t with Tim, thought Tom. He texted her again, she only lifted her phone and then took a deep breath. She didn’t text back. But he saw tears streaming down her face.

It was particularly weird. Being in the same room. He waited for the song to finish until he decided to send her a drink. Another gin and tonic.

He watched her, and she seemed surprised when the waiter had told her a gentleman had sent her a drink, she denied the drink until the waiter pointed at Tom. And she suddenly stopped, her eyes landed on him, as if she was deciding whether or not to walk over. But Tom was already wasted, so he made the decision himself. He paid for his and her drinks and then stumbled up to stand, he didn’t want to be in the same room as her right now. He was too dizzy, the floor was moving just as he walked out of the hotel bar and made his way to the elevator.

But before the door closed, y/n ran into the elevator. Tom gave her a drunken smile, watching her yet again get far from him.

“Heeeeey,” a drunk and slurred voice came out.

Y/N turned coldly. “Are you drunk?”

“No,” he lied but then opened his arms, laying against the elevator wall. “Mmhm c’mere.”

She didn’t look at him now.

“Y/N,” he called her, loudly. “Are you—are we breaking up even if—hic—even if we only dated for like 10 minutes? Are you going back to Timmy Tim?” His words sounded slow and long.

“Tom, stop, no, okay, you’re too drunk and I’m not in the mood to talk about this, okay? We’re not breaking up,”she confirmed and walked over to his side. He could now see she really had been crying, her eyes were still trying to hold back more tears, and she kept avoiding his gaze. Her cheeks were probably humid.

He reached out for her hand lazily, and brought it to his lips. She looked away. He tried to kiss her cheek, but she turned around again.

“God, you stink of alcohol, Tom,” she rolled her eyes as he mumbled an apology.

He frowned, and tried to lean over, he ended up nuzzling into her neck. She sighed, but caressed his hair anyway.

“Do you hate me?” He asked her.

“Yes,” she answered.

He pouted. “Y/N,” he hiccuped again. “Mm… didn’t ya love me?” His words were even more slurred now.

“Yes.”

He tried to stand back up but he was so dizzy, that he decided to keep leaning against her.

“You’re being really annoying right now, I understand you got angry but right now I’m too emotional to deal with drunk you —” She pointed out as the doors opened, Tom didn’t move. “Thomas,” she sighed. “C’mon, let’s…Tom, I’m really not in the mood to do this.”

It seemed like the floor was spinning, but he helped him out, as he was striding to their room, y/n helping him as he had a shoulder around her, using her as support.

Before she opened the door, Tom took her hand again and brought it up to his gaze.

“what are you—what are you doing?” She asked.

“Checking if you’re not wearing the ring, babe” Tom mumbled.

Y/N sighed. “I gave it back.”

Tom looked at the blurry image standing in front of him and formed a smile. “Good.”

She opened the door, and Tom stumbled right behind her, he was still angry, but that soothed him. Y/N guided him to the bed, sitting him down.

“You’ve… you have,” he closed his eyes and burped. “You’ve been crying,” Tom pointed out as he watched her walking around the room.

She then was right beside him, Tom didn’t even notice how, but she handed him a bottle of water. “Drink.”

Tom watched her. “Have you been crying?”

She took a deep breath, “yes,” she answered. “Just drunk the water, Tom.”

“Why?” He questioned as she glared at him, “why are you crying?”

“Tom—drink the water.”

He took a sip, “You love him.”

“Tom—right now I really—I know this is too simple for you, I know that this seems simple for you, if anything you’ll just go on and live with your life okay? But—I need you not to make this hard for me,” she snapped as she walked away.

Tom watched her. “I know, you just officially let go of the love of your life I know, I know.”

She crossed her arms turning back to him. “You’re really being an ass.”

“I am just hurt y/n,” he admitted. “I am sooo in love with you and you just see me as...I don’t know”

She took a deep breath, “I didn’t mean to hurt you okay?” Her voice was shaking. “I was going to give it back I just—hadn’t found the right time but—I gave it to him, happy?”

Tom blinked, giving it a thought. “No.”

“I...really don’t want you to be hurt okay?” She walked over, taking his hands.. “You were not supposed to know.”

Tom gave her a cynic smile. “But I found it,” he shrugged.

“Yes, but—Tom,” she sighed. “really just we will talk when you’re sober and when I’m not on the verge of tears—“

He wasn’t really listening, he couldn’t focus. “Did he kiss you?”

She closed her eyes. “No.”

“Did he… try to kiss ya?”he pushed.

“No, Tom,” she let him go, and then more tears were coming down her cheeks. “I broke his heart, and do you know how fucking difficult it was?” She gulped. “That’s why I—I hadn’t done it yet because I didn’t want to spend my last days in New York with you crying over someone else—“

Tom laid down on the bed. “Y/N you still have feelings for him.”

“Tom oh my god, do you really want to go there?”

He chuckled. “Just did, besides it’s clear you still love him because you’re crying.”

“Tom, it’s not if I have feelings or not,” she pointed out. “I am sad because I just closed a very important part of my life for something—“

“For something not certain,” he finished her line.

“You don’t even understand this, you’re too drunk for me to explain this.” She was angry, so angry.

“Try then,” he sat up. He had a sad, cynic smile across his face, and he could barely keep his eyes open.

“I don’t even know if I want to,”she admitted, arms over her chest as she leaned against the wall. “we’ve already yelled and fought at each other twice in less than two days,” she sassed. “and I’m just here thinking hey, this won’t work!” She looked away. “because we don’t trust each other.”

He felt like somehow that had sobered him up. “Good to know you don’t trust me,” he laughed with sarcasm, as he rubbed his face.

“Well, do you? Do you trust me? If you did, we wouldn’t be helping this conversation.”

He didn’t answer.

She shrugged, chuckling. “There’s your answer, we are both so damaged, Tom. This won’t be easy and you just have to accept it,” she explained.

He looked away. “Why did you keep the ring?”

“Tom.”

He took a deep breath. “I just need to know y/n because I—I know how much you loved him and feelings simply don’t disappear—“

She only walked to the window. “Everybody said it, okay?” She sniffed. “And I’m someone who plans ahead and I’m someone who—Who ends up doing the right thing, and I kept—“he could see her breaking her heart. “I kept the ring because he told me to,”her voice was now completely broken. “, and because I thought everyone says it—and I—“

“That you were perfect,” Tom finished,

“And I’ve always been known for making all the wrong choices—“

“And Timmy is the right one isn’t he?” He cackled. “Great.”

“Bloody hell, Thomas you’re not making it easy,” she snapped.

He stood up. “Y/N literally what the hell do I have to do for you to fucking look at me?” He asked as he walked to her, placing his hands on her shoulders so she’d finally face him, and to not lose balance, as well. “All my life I’ve literally been doing the impossible and yet you always turn around—“

“Oh my god,” she closed her eyes as she pushed his arms away. “”I can’t believe you, I’m in love with you!” She yelled. “Don’t you fucking see it? I’m in love with you,” she cried as she walked away. “after crying for a fucking year for that night in the club, I can’t bloody look at yellow flowers without tearing up but guess what,” she chuckled angrily. “I still fucking choose you every time, Tom, you literally don’t have to do anything for me to always fucking choose you and that’s why I don’t get it!” She turned back to see him. “I don’t get why, and yet you still doubt it, and even if you we’re screwing me over and over I still chose you and even if there was either Tim or Harry or—“

“Harry?” Tom didn’t even let her finish as she finally paused. “Harry?”

“I—no, let’s not go there,” she shook her head and hugged herself.

Tom was sober now. “No, I want to fucking know now.”

“Tom no, you’re drunk let’s—“she closed her eyes, as she looked around, trying to escape.

“What about Harry?”

“Nothing.”

“Did you know—“

“Yes, Tom I knew—“She snapped.

The weather had turned cold, he thought he heard rain falling down but the night sky was clear.

“How did you know?” Tom asked, quietly.

She huffed, “Because unlike you, he’s shown me his whole life that he loves me.”

Tom felt it again, an anger or guilt he had suffered from throughout his life. “Then why the fuck do you love me if you—Harry was perfect!”

She blinked with confusion. “What?”

“You should end up with Harry.”

“See? Now you get it,” she sat on the bed. “Everyone says it, Harry or Tim how nice and perfect, and yet—I choose you, Tom I don’t even know why you’re angry at me,” she complained “they all said it, but you know what and they also always said I would end up dating you, people are strange huh? They say a lot of things.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

She gulped down a sob, but then calmed down. “I’ve heard it all Tom,” she explained. “I know. That’s what I’m trying to tell you, the heart wants what it wants.”

“But—everyone says it.”

“Yes I know, that Tim is my endgame and that Harry was the guy I should’ve fallen in love with, but guess what! They also said that we needed to sleep together to finally get along and look at us now, people are wrong, aren’t they?”

He closed his eyes, hurt, as he sat beside her. “No—I—“

“I need to sleep,” she stood up. They didn’t follow the routine that night, not together.

“I don’t want to go to bed like this,” he said as y/n picked up a pillow and a blanket and walked over to the sofa. “Y/N no—come here. If anything I’ll sleep there.”

She sat down, hugging the pillow, so he made his way over.

“Y/N, no come on, please—Let’s, I’m sorry okay?” He sighed sitting beside her. She stayed quiet, but scooted closer to him. “Y/N?”

“I don’t want it to rain in New York, Tom,” she whispered. “And I’m trying, okay? I just hope you’re trying, too.”

She then went quiet, but then snuggled close to him, with her eyes closed. Tom blinked, but wrapped his arms around her confused. He still had a lot of thoughts in his head. Very confusing, hurtful thoughts. Especially around what she said about Harry.

But then again, she was right, why the hell did she doubt her if she’d chosen him over and over?

But then guilt, the guilt of not wanting to break his brother’s heart. He decided it right there in that precise moment, that he wanted to tell him. Harry was with Emma. It was now or never.

And he understood what she meant, maybe she’d felt it too, the thunder striking outside, but… If he looked out the window, the night was clear, the stars were bright.

The next day they didn’t even talk about it, y/n had woken up earlier than him, Tom had woken up sore from sleeping on a couch, but he knew that she’d held him all night long, he had heard her cry in the middle of the night, he had seen her pace around the room but then, eventually she came back and snuggled him. But he woke up alone, and it felt weird, but she had gone out and brought him a juice that she swore would cure his hangover. Neither him or y/n addressed anything they had talked the night before.

He understood what she meant. This was Rome. New York was the new Rome, the part where they both could be happy, live the fairytale and then it would come to London, rainy London. Even if the sky in New York had turned gray.

And though Tom was facing a constant headache they both quietly decided that they’d enjoy the clear sky in New York. They went to that museum in Queens, they walked through Central Park and enjoyed a Picnic, they even bought a kite and flew it. And they didn’t fight. Not once, or not in the way they had fought the night before. As if both of them were actively avoiding it, pretending they were fine. Laughs. On the edge, as if the other would bring up one heartbreak eventually. They were fine. Even if they weren’t.

But maybe, just maybe, they were. Even if the fantasy they were living was crafted, a film he’d seen before, not with him. Maybe that’s why it felt different, because Tom was trying too much. And so was y/n, because that day they weren’t each other. Like they played a part of something they didn’t belong in. Because they were being seen, in a way.

But Tom looked at y/n, and even if her eyes looked tired, and even if her smile was slightly sad, her eyes brightened up when they looked at each other. That’s probably what had him crazy, because she was choosing him, even if just last night they were fighting. Why did y/n choose someone who broke her? Why couldn’t he stop breaking her?

He felt like he’d run out of chances, and he knew this was the last time. Not sure why it felt like that, but maybe that’s why they were trying so hard to make each other smile and forget the night before.

Were they forcing this too much? Had they loved each other so much and they had been so impatient that they had forced this? Like a film. Playing a part.

He knew what he had to do.

New York became a memory that they didn’t want to let go. The last days of filming had gone very quickly, especially because Tim wasn’t around anymore, and there were no more peonies coming. Tim looked destroyed, Tom had caught him smoking cigarettes and hiding a tear. Tom knew how it felt, he’d been there before, feeling like someone else had taken his place, a place that belonged to him. He couldn’t blame him.

And maybe Tom had just a slight bit of sympathy and guilt and maybe that’s why he hadn’t kissed y/n as much when Tim was around. The guy wasn’t to blame, honestly. Even if he despised him, Tim had nothing to blame right now. If anything, Tom respected him because y/n had broken his heart.

And the last night, while they were in the bathtub, surrounded by bubbles and foam, his arm around her, her back against his chest, glasses of red wine in their hands, the lights out, they were quiet. They had been quiet those days. Words were their strongest weapons and this time they didn’t want to wound each other.

“y/n?” he had talked.

And he felt how she had shifted, turning cold, as if she didn’t want to have any conversation. “Yes?”

“I… I uh, called my parents before,” he said.

She nodded. “Yeah, I heard, that’s why I didn’t interrupt.”

“Yeah,” he gulped before placing a sweet kiss on her shoulder. “I…” He gulped, “Apparently they’re… having another lunch party of sorts with your parents when we come back, and we have to be there.”

“Ah, yeah, James told me about it, what’s with them always throwing parties together?” she chuckled as she blew some bubbles at him. “As if they didn’t see each other once a week.”

Tom grinned, as he then decided to splash out some water at her. “And as if we didn’t hang out on our own.”

She laughed, leaning against him, she took his hand and played with it.

Tom locked his fingers with hers, and took a sip of his wine.

“Oh, if they knew,” she chuckled. “We haven’t behaved, haven’t we?” she asked before turning around to beard him up with the bubbles.

Tom almost choked on his wine, but chuckled. “Y/N!”

“What?” she giggled. “I don’t think this is exactly what they wanted when they told us to behave whenever we fought.”

He grinned, agreeing. He really didn’t want this to die, not this time. Because this wasn’t supposed to be forbidden, this wasn’t them being silly children fighting, or kissing. This wasn’t illicit, the deal couldn’t be expired.

“I told them I was seeing someone,” Tom mentioned after a while.

She turned warm again and then turned to face him. “Yea?”

He smiled. “Yes, hope you don’t mind”

She chuckled. “I… did they ask who?”

“Yes,” Tom gulped. “I didn’t tell them, told them I wanted them to meet her.”

She laughed. “I love pretending not to know your parents,” she looked down at him and placed a soft kiss on the edge of his lips.

“So, I told them that I’d bring her to lunch,” he whispered, hoping this wasn’t something that would bring their little act down.

She paused, taking a deep breath.

Tom then feared his words had been a knife and he had just stabbed her. But then, after what Tom felt was the longest minute of his life she turned to him.

“Well, I hope they like her and that she’s there on time” And she’d kissed him.

“And… I’ve been thinking,” he said. “I… also have a song for us.”

“Ah, you do?”

“Yeah, that’s what’s been keeping me awake these two nights,” he said, ignoring what had happened the night before. “It took me a lot to think about it.”

“Really?”

“Yes because it couldn’t be a normal song, you know? I can’t just simply choose a random one.”

“Why not?” She chuckled.

“Because it’s you, it either has to be an 80’s song or a One Direction song, I know you,” he laughed.

She giggled. “But… If a song fits, it fits, you know?” She tilted her head.

“Okay, I’m just going to pretend you just didn’t say that,” he blinked. “Because I really wanted it to be perfect, and…I really had to think about it to fit your whole aesthetic, and crazy mind of yours, and I came up with this one. And now, I’ll…” He reached for his phone. “I just want you to close your eyes, and…”

“Does it have a meaning?”

“I just feel like… It fits, you know?” he chuckled. “It’s actually a song about war.”

She blinked. “War?”

“Yeah, war.”

“Funny, I also relate a war concept to you,” she whispered.

“Huh?”

“Nothing, what’s the song?” She smiled.

“Close your eyes….”

And she did, and he played the song. Everybody Wants To Rule The World. Tears for Fears. And maybe that song did it for them, because they believed it.

The flight back home had been quiet, and y/n said she never wanted to forget New York, the city that never sleeps, and the city where they barely had slept, tangled up in the sheets and yearning for an eternal moonlight, memorizing each other. The city where they had only found each other in a crowd, where no matter how chaotic, they’d found peace. A sun making its way back out after a storm. Tom didn’t want to leave the clear blue sky, the cozy nights, the hope, he didn’t want to go back to the rain. Because it felt like it was coming.

But London received them with a bright sunny day, not a gray sky. It was sunny, and warm. And maybe it was telling them that it’d be alright.

Tom had only gone back home, picked out a few clothes, avoided Harrison and then decided to go to y/n’s place. He avoided everyone’s calls. So had y/n. They needed to be alone before everything could explode.

Because just the very next day, they’d go to the lunch thing. And he knew that he wasn’t nervous about his parents, or her parents. Both of them were nervous about Harry. Even if they hadn’t said anything, he knew both of them were very very very anxious about it. Especially now that Tom knew that y/n had known about his brother’s infatuation towards her. And he still hadn’t yet decided how to feel about it. Guilty, at least. Very, very guilty. And maybe angry at y/n. But was he, really? He loved her, and she loved him back. He couldn’t be stupid enough to think about how y/n didn’t love someone else.

This was y/n’s fault, or was it Tom’s? Why the hell couldn’t he make up his mind about this. And he thought how it would go, how if she’d chosen Harry instead. How he’d have to stay quiet, be happy for his brother. But Harry? Would Harry be happy?

Because Tom knew that that territory was dangerous, mostly because y/n had been right. Tom had never shown her that he loved her, and Harry probably would get defensive, and he’d probably be angry because everyone said it, and he knew what was coming: Tom will break y/n’s heart because that’s all Tom does. Break y/n apart.

But Harry would bring Emma, right? It’d be okay. Harry had moved on, and the only thing Tom would have to deal with was the fact that TOm had hidden his love towards y/n.

He knew the conversation was long overdue, with y/n, with Harry. Of course, that by admitting it with everyone else there, he’d avoid some kind of drama. But if they didn’t, Tom decided to enjoy his tranquility alone with y/n. Kissing, and cuddling and laughing and then with their clothes again on the floor, tangled in between the sheets, and longing for the night to never end because the next day, it could probably rain.

They had a sort of plan, test the waters first.

And she’d chosen that strawberry dress, yes, it was strawberries, on a pink dress that Tom loved. And Tom felt dizzy, as he’d given her one last quick kiss before walking in, to see Nikki and Elaine with a glass of champagne in their hands as they were talking to each other.

They paused, watching Tom as he knew they tried to look behind him, trying to find the girl he had so talked marvels about.

They both kissed their mother’s cheeks, and hugged the others’.

“Well, hello, you two,” Elaine said. “I’m surprised you’re both complete after spending two months together,” she commented.

“We get along,” y/n laughed. “For now, besides, he was paying me so.”

“How was New York? It was always a dream of yours, did you like it?” Elaine asked.

“Loved it, it’s the best time I’ve ever had in my life,” she admitted with a grin.

Tom blushed, but then cleared his throat to look at his mother. “Uh, we--” He cleared his throat. “I brought wine, so...I’m gonna…”

Nikki grinned. “Tom, where’s your...girlfriend?” She sounded suspicious.

He chuckled as he headed to the kitchen. “Ah, she’ll be here, she’s running late,” he lied.

“Hm, not a great first impression as the new girlfriend huh?” Elaine commented.

Tom hid a grin, as he heard y/n chuckle. He took out two beers from the fridge and opened them

“So, y/n, thoughts on his new girlfriend? I assume you know her,” Nikki commented.

Tom walked back over, handed y/n a beer and laughed. “You’re really asking my worst enemy her thoughts on my new girlfriend?”

Elaine smirked. “She’s the one who will tell us the truth.”

Y/N snickered. “Uh- well,” she looked at Tom. “Mm, honestly she’s a little slutty, feel like he paid her to date her.”

Tom choked on his beer.

Elaine and Nikki widened their eyes with surprise.

“What?” the three of them said in unison.

“Y/N!” Her mother called her.

“I’m kidding,” she laughed. “Uh seriously I’m joking, , honestly I… I’m sorry, I don’t think I have an opinion of her, I only know she’s got terrible taste if she wants to date him.”

Tom smirked and faked a phony laugh. “Can’t deny that,” he grinned. “But, no, she’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my life, she’s stunning, so smart and talented.”

“But, let’s just say they can rule the world.”

Tom smiled.

Y/N smiled to herself. “So, where are the guys?”

“Sam, Rich and Dom went to buy some stuff, Pad is upstairs-”Nikki explained.

“And Ha--”Tom couldn't finish.

“I’m here, you guys arrived early,” James had walked in just in time for Tom and y/n to scoot away from each other. “Didn’t see your car, n/n,” he raised his brows with a smirk. He then turned with his coldest stare at Tom. “Thomas.”

“Hi, bro,” Tom awkwardly fist bumped him.

He said hello to Nikki and his mother.

“So, what’s the occasion this time?” James asked as he snatched the beer from his sister’s hand, she pouted but then Tom discreetly offered his, y/n denied it.

“As if we needed an occasion to have lunch together,” y/n pointed out.

“Tom’s got a girlfriend,” Elaine answered. “We’re meeting her today.”

James’ eyes widened as he stared between the young couple. “Does he, now?” Tom only sipped his beer. “Ah, I’ve never seen you guys make such a deal out of a new girlfriend,” James snaked, chuckling. “Well, what about you, y/n?” James grinned. “Have you a boyfriend now?”

Y/N now snatched the beer from Tom’s hands, taking a sip. “Hm?”

James raised his brows, chuckling. “Fine.”

“So…” Nikki cleared her throat. “Y/n, dear, I need you to help me out with something, you’re going to be Emma’s maid of honor right?”

“Yes!” Y/N gulped.

Nikki grinned, “amazing, can you come here a little and help me out?”

Tom held his breath as he watched his mother and y/n leave.

“So, Tom, how really is she?” Elaine asked. “No need to impress y/n now,” she chuckled.

“How is who?” James asked.

“We were talking about his girlfriend, y/n called her slutty,” Elaine commented.

“But she’s not!” Tom was quick to answer.

“No, I know,” Elaine laughed.

James crossed his arms and chuckled. “Mum, I don’t think you should be asking him that.”

“Well, she's running late, already making a bad impression, Tom, meeting the parents is always a deal breaker.”

James let out a long laugh. “I am sure they will love her.”

“Do you know her, already?” Asked Elaine. “Is she—how do you guys say it? A hottie?”

“Mum I really don’t think—“James chuckled. “Don’t.”

“She’s beautiful,” Tom said, snickering.

Elaine nodded. “So, Tom, I… I am going to ask you because well, you were there,” she sighed. “How did y/n do? With Tim being there?”

Tom turned cold. Of course Elaine would ask about Timothée. James’ eyes widened and he coughed.

“Mum, don’t… Go there,” James warned.

“Well, I’ve gotta ask,” she nodded. “I’m just worried, I… She was really bummed when they broke up. Tim really was the love of her life.”

Tom blinked and cleared his throat, he shook his head. “I… You know what? I.. I don’t think he is,” he said. “But yea, she did fine… And I’m getting another beer.”

Tom decided to not go back to that conversation and join his youngest brother instead, too busy playing on his Nintendo Switch, Tessa ran over to his lap. Eventually, he heard the door open again and men’s laughs filled the house, Richard, y/n’s father, Dom and Sam had walked in. No trace of Harry.

Tom had walked backstairs again to see Sam and Y/N catching up, laughing at something she was showing him on his phone. Still, no trace of Harry.

“Mum, where’s Harry?” Tom asked Nikki.

“Ah, he had something to do with Emma, you know, they’re planning an engagement party and--”

“They are? He didn’t tell me,” Harry frowned. “He’s not coming, then?”

“No,” Nikki shook her head. “He told me that he was happy you had a girlfriend though,” she mentioned.

Tom felt a stab in his chest. Did Harry know? Maybe he did, and if he did, was he happy? Maybe he had to tell this to his brother alone, not like this. This was the universe telling Tom that he had to speak to his brother, even if he’d been avoiding him for a while now.

The afternoon continued, and Tom and y/n were trying so hard not to give hints yet, and it was hard, Tom was holding back from taking her hand, from kissing her cheek. They’d gotten so used to being alone that this wasn’t them.

Tom and y/n had agreed not to say anything until the very end. But honestly, Tom didn’t know what this was even for anymore, their parents weren’t the ones who mattered and Sam and James probably had guessed it by now. For who was this surprise for? Paddy? This was the moment Tom had planned to tell Harry. Not… Well, if they were honest this was their way out to not be scared. To be alone even if they were surrounded by all of them.

“Tom’s girlfriend hasn’t showed up, huh?” Richard laughed. “We’ve all been there buddy, maybe it was too soon to meet the parents, huh?”

Tom laughed. “I… Don’t think it is.”

“So, is she actually a real girlfriend or another girl you’re parading with?” Richard pushed.

James took a long sip of his beer. “Yeah, Tom, is she a real girlfriend?”

Tom laughed nervously. “I… she’s a real girlfriend, I’m really hoping it’ll last.”

“Well, if she’s not here already, I wouldn’t be so sure,” Dom pointed out.

Sam burst out in laughter and nudged Tom. “Uh-huh.”

Tom managed a way to sneak out of the conversation as he had seen y/n walk in alone to the kitchen, he ran over to her and made sure nobody was watching before placing a kiss on her cheek from behind.

“Oh, hi,” she grinned.

“So how’s it going?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind.

“So, my mum and your mum already hate me because I’m late and now they are wondering if I’m ugly because you’ve never said anything about it, and they really think I’m a little slutty,” she giggled.

“I mean, last night...” Tom smirked.

“Shut up!” She slapped his shoulder.

“I’m joking,” he laughed as he nuzzled into her neck, giggling.

“Well how is it going for you?” she frowned.

“Pretty much the same, they don’t suspect a thing,” Tom admitted, kissing her neck again.. “Mmh, should we tell them now?”

“I don’t know, maybe… We could wait, tell them she won’t be able to come and… I feel like… I dunno.” She turned around. “Now, this is obvious enough so,” she pushed him away before walking outside where they’d be eating.

They were getting ready, their sitting arrangements just as usual, Tom and y/n far away from each other. A seat, usual Harry’s seat, empty.

“And this is for your nameless girlfriend,” Nikki said as she placed an empty plate right beside Tom. “Whom I don’t think will show up now but…”

“Actually, mum, I’m gonna be sitting over there,” Tom said, taking his plate and walking over to y/n.

All the table went quiet, Sam and James only watched him curiously and about to burst into laughter. Seemed like the two of them had realized they both knew and they were having quite a lot of fun with this situation.

“You guys are gonna behave?” Elaine laughed.

“Yeah, think I can behave just fine with my girlfriend,” Tom smirked as he finally sat down beside y/n, finally holding her hand. It felt like the walls had tumbled down finally. There was only a wall far away, waiting to be tumbled, but Tom would take care of that himself later.

The table went cold and quiet, shock coming from both their parents faces as y/n was also a bit in shock. But she smiled.

“What?” Paddy was the only one to make a noise. “Didn’t you hate each other? What the hell?” He scrunched his nose with confusion.

They remained quiet, their eyebrows were raised and their mouths shaped in big ‘o’s.

The silence was broken with Elaine, gracefully turning to her best friend and smirking. “Give me my money back, and pay up.”

“What?” Tom and y/n asked in unison.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Nikki blinked as Elaine grinned. “Are you guys serious? Are you actually?”

“Yeah,” y/n chuckled. “I’m the slutty ugly girl who arrived late.”

Tom laughed. “No-”

“Pay up, Nik,” Elaine grinned.

“What?” Tom asked again.

“Your mothers decided to bet, Elaine said you’d end up dating with this and your mum said you wouldn’t,” Dom explained. “They’ve been doing this their whole lives and now it’s actually a--”

“You guys are betting over our love life?” Y/N frowned, laughing.

“You guys are dating?” Richard was the one to ask now. “What is going on?”

Of course, Tom and y/n couldn’t tell them how they had actually started dating, they had come up with them starting to hang out more and realizing their feelings with each other, and technically that wasn’t a lie, but of course Sam and James weren’t buying it, but they kept quiet, so it was good,at least so after calming down their shock. Obviously then seeing their parents' reactions and regrets over past comments about making fun of Tom and his non-existent girlfriend or about how she probably was ugly. It went… great, it was calm and they finally could slowly hold hands and they finally let themselves go. They were free, out of a cage, out of a staged lie, and they were on their best behavior, for the first time they didn’t hear it ‘children, behave’, and he finally could place an arm around her, and they didn’t have to hide the fact that they were lovingly staring into each other's eyes. They didn’t have to be alone now, and honestly, they could rule the world by then. Everything was perfect.

The news was great for both families, and although the one Tom wanted to know the most hadn’t heard it yet, he wasn’t scared, not for the first time. Because he felt free, for the first time he really wanted to do things right. Even if he’d heard it, and even if they hadn’t talked about it, they’d have time because they didn’t have to hide, not anymore.

He went back to her place again that night.

“So, that went amazing,” y/n commented as soon as they’d walk into her apartment, Tom couldn’t keep her hands off of her.

“I thought… I thought they wouldn’t like it,” he laughed.

“Can you believe they’ve been betting their whole lives?” She laughed. “God, I mean, I understand they’re best friends and that they-- But?”

He scoffed. “Maybe we should start betting on them too, you know? Stuff like, who’s going to go bald first or dunno.”

“Whatever, I think we should celebrate,” she smirked.

“Oh?”

She giggled but then pulled him in for a long, long kiss, as her tongue explored his. She quickly pulled away. “Huh, wait, what time is it? I haven’t--I haven’t sent out that thing for my script, shit, shit shit,” she continued cursing as she let him go, she ran over to her room and took out her laptop. Tom blinked but followed after her.

She was quick to type, and then she seemed so stressed as she kept swearing until she finally sent it in, whatever she was sending. Tom only sat on the edge of the bed watching her.

“Where were we?” She asked, before crawling over to him. She hadn’t closed her laptop.

“About to celebrate, I believe,” he smirked, as he wrapped his arms around her to kiss her again. She sat on his lap, and played with his hair.

Her phone started to ring, she ignored it, as she was taking off Tom’s shirt and he was ready to take off her cherry dress. But it kept ringing.

“Would you mind if---?” She asked as she took out her phone. Tom chuckled but kept his lips on her jawline, tracing it down with soft kisses. She cleared her throat. “Shit, it’s my boss.”

He kept kissing her neck, though.

“Uh, hi, Alessandra--”

“I’m sorry I’m calling you this late,” Tom heard her boss say over the phone. “I hope you’re not busy.”

Y/N bit her lip as Tom chuckled, kissing down his way to her collarbone.

“I’m… No, I’m not busy, it’s alright.”

“Well, uh, we need to talk about the script I uh--”

“Actually, um, Alessandra just give me a sec,” she cleared her throat as she quickly pushed Tom away and jumped off his grip. He pouted but then she placed a quick kiss on his lips before rushing out of her room.

Tom chuckled, and then stared at her laptop. He pulled it close and saw the opened document, from what he could see it was her script. The same script she’d been so secretive about. Of course he was going to read it, he wanted to praise her work and talent, so he started reading it.

But maybe he shouldn’t have, because just as he started, a storm started pouring down in London.

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mst3kproject · 3 years

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Magic Christmas Tree

I thought I’d try something different this year and find a bad Hannukah movie, but everybody I asked had the same recommendation: Adam Sandler’s Eight Crazy Nights. I know for a fact that is a prohibitively awful film, because I know people who’ve watched parts of it (I have not to date met anyone who could sit through the whole thing), but it just doesn’t feel like an MST3K feature to me. Anyway, I have standards. My conclusion is that people need to make more Hannukah movies… and until that happens, I’m watching Magic Christmas Tree, which comes specially recommended by RiffTrax.

This is the only Christmas movie I’ve ever seen which starts with cheerful holiday music over footage of… Hallowe’en decorations. Obnoxious bully Mark and his two pushover friends decide to go investigate a supposedly-haunted house. Naturally the old lady who lives there is a witch, and in exchange for Mark rescuing her cat, she gives him a seed for a magical tree that will grant him three wishes. Two months later, with the tree fully grown, his first wish is to have magical powers for one hour – he uses them to torment unfortunate people who were already having to work on Christmas Eve. His second wish is to kidnap Santa Claus and extort unlimited presents from him, but that attracts the attention of the spirit of Greed, who intends to keep Mark as a slave forever! Good thing he’s still got that third wish.

God, I hate this movie. I’d say it’s the worst Christmas movie I’ve ever seen, but Elves exists, so instead I have to say it’s the worst Christmas movie that didn’t have any Nazis in it. It reminds me more than anything else of Ghost of Dragstrip Hollow, in that it’s an absolute mess that seems to have been put together by people who have no idea what they’re doing. It spends most of its time on boring, annoying irrelevant bullshit, and then when it gets to the plot, that’s boring and annoying, too!

Magic Christmas Tree is only an hour long, but that’s twice as long as it needed to be. A plot summary makes it sound like most of the film will be dealing with Mark’s three wishes and how he uses them, but it’s half-over before we even get to that point. The time leading up to it is spent watching Mark follow the witch’s complicated instructions on how to grow and activate the tree, and his parents dealing with this unwanted thing appearing in the middle of their back yard. All of this is presented in excruciating detail. We watch Mark dig the entire hole to plant the seed in. We see his Dad struggle with the lawnmower at unbelievable length, while the Mom yacks about nothing on the phone with her friend Betty. The Dad tries to cut the tree down with no success. Mark has to say a set of magic words over and over and over.

It goes on so long, it passes the are you fucking kidding me? point and wanders into territory where you wonder if there’s something wrong with the disk and you’re playing the scene over and over. It actually starts to feel like it’s on purpose – especially when the slowness is repeatedly emphasized by shots of Mark’s pet tortoise, Ichabod, who seems to be eating his patch of clover far faster than anybody else is accomplishing anything. You’ll swear the movie is making fun of you.

The sound that accompanies all this is sometimes very peculiar. The old lady has exactly the voice you’d expect from a witch in a cheap kid’s movie, but Mark’s Mom sounds like she’s being dubbed by a twelve-year-old boy, possibly the same one who provided the voice for Mark himself. The tree speaks (oh, yes, it does) in the voice of a smarmy stereotypical gay man. Santa Claus sounds like he’s half-senile and wondering what’s for lunch.

The lawnmower makes some very strange noises indeed. I guess they’re meant to be cartoonish and funny. They’re definitely the former but they’re never the latter, possibly because they never sound remotely like a lawnmower. When Mark’s Dad is trying to get it started it sounds like the ghost of a consumptive horse, and three hours later when it actually gets going, it makes noises like a traffic jam in Whoville.

Besides sounding weird, the actors are just plain bad. The guy playing Santa Claus is half-asleep. We’re told that the tree’s magic means he’s trapped in the chair he’s sitting in, and I honestly do believe that actor could not have gotten up if he tried, no wishes necessary. The woman playing Mark’s Mom looks like she’s high as a kite and only barely keeping her grip on reality. Maybe that’s why they had to dub her. Mark’s Dad recites his lines like a guy on a game show reading his own life story off a teleprompter, and does his yard chores in a way that’s probably supposed to be pantomimey but is the opposite of entertaining. The Dad gets an inordinate amount of screen time, which I can only chalk up to the fact that he’s played by director Dick Parish.

The worst of the lot are, of course, the kids, who are predictably terrible 60’s child actors. They yell all their lines, with the volume and exaggerated emphasis you expect from a school play. It wears thin very, very quickly. The kid playing Mark is the worst of the lot, although I might just think that because he’s the one we spend the most time with. He’s a huge part of why this movie makes me so mad.

I think the best way to describe Mark as a character is to say that the first time I watched this movie I assumed his name was ‘Billy’, despite the fact that everybody kept calling him ‘Mark’. He just seems like the type of nasty little brat who’d be named ‘Billy’ in a bad 60’s Christmas movie. We meet him having lunch with his two friends by the playground, and learn that he’s a greedy little shit when he drives a hard bargain in a sandwich trade. Greedy-little-shit-itude continues to be his primary character trait and is, of course, the core of the movie’s lesson. His attempt to monopolize Santa Claus makes him such a greedy little shit that Greed himself takes an interest in him.

Greed is a huge hairy man who takes delight in kidnapping little boys. I think he’s supposed to look like a fairy tale giant. Watching him manhandle a child is an intensely uncomfortable experience.

I guess ‘don’t be greedy’ is a standard message for a children’s movie, and it seems like a particularly appropriate one for Christmas, which presents children with a great opportunity for avarice. What seems a little odd is that Mark never actually suffers any consequences for his selfishness, only the vague threat of them. There was a perfect opportunity for some of this when Mark kidnaps Santa Claus. Santa, after all, brings toys to good girls and boys… surely by this point, after his brief reign of terror with his magical powers, Mark has been naughty enough to deserve only coal. Apparently that’s not how it works, though. Mark just wanders off into the woods in search of small animals to shoot with his new rifle, runs into the giant, and immediately repents even though Greed is offering him all the toys and candy he wants.

What supposedly prompts Mark to become a better person is seeing how the world has responded to Santa Claus going missing. Curiously, there is very little emphasis on the children who are sad because they didn’t get any presents. Maybe somebody thought that would have made them seem greedy? Instead, the vision Greed presents to Mark is of the United States military mobilizing to locate Santa and bring him home, Santa Claus Conquers the Martians-style! So… I guess Mark becomes a better person because he’s afraid of what’s going to happen if the army finds Santa trapped in a chair in his house? I guess that is pretty terrifying.

Another thing that blunts the lesson is the fact that Mark is given his three wishes as a reward for a good deed. He got the witch’s cat down from the tree, so she offers him the magical seed and doesn’t let him refuse. What then was he supposed to use his three wishes for, if not to get stuff for himself? Was this intentionally a poisoned gift, because you shouldn’t accept things from witches? The witch insists that there are good witches as well as wicked ones, but she’s not exactly an unbiased source. The movie never tries to blame her, though. The situation is presented as Mark’s fault, and Mark’s alone.

Finally, at the end Mark wakes up and finds that of course the whole thing was a dream – there was no witch, no magic tree, and no Santa Claus. This is less annoying than it could have been because at least it’s not a surprise. Mark did hit his head when he fell out of the tree the cat was in, and the movie changed from black and white to colour. We’ve seen this before in The Wizard of Oz and we can guess where it’s going. The audience might assume that Mark will wake up and immediately take the opportunity to be generous instead of greedy, perhaps by giving his friend something to make up for the lunch trade. Instead, the woman who owns the cat (who is not actually a witch, but looks even more like one in this part of the film than she does wearing the Hallowe’en witch costume in Mark’s dream) offers him milk and cookies, and he delightedly accepts. This just gives the impression that he’s learned nothing.

Is there anything in this movie I didn’t hate? Well… among Mark’s school friends is a token black kid, who is not differentiated in any way from his peers. He talks like them, he dresses like them, and the writers did not use either his lunch or his Hallowe’en plans as a way to demarcate a class difference between him and the others. So yeah, the movie sucks, but the writers tried really hard not to be racist.

Happy fucking holidays. I want to say hooray for surviving 2020, but we’ve still got a week to go. That’s plenty of time for oh, I don’t know, an alien invasion, or a giant meteor, or the Yellowstone supervolcano, or zombies, or whatever. At this point, if most of us aren’t dead by this time next year, I’ll count that as a win.

#mst3k #reviews #episodes that never were #magic christmas tree #fuck this movie #holiday reviews #60s

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angelliev · 4 years

Text

Lover Boy - JJ Maybank x OC - Part Four - Tapioca Pearls

Word Count: 2K

Summary: Aria’s jealousy overcomes her emotions and becomes protective over JJ.

Warnings: Smut, cursing & choking

A/N: This is a funny and weird chapter. I didn’t intend for this one to be funny, but I got carried away. Hope you guys enjoy and get a good laugh in. (Not my GIF. Credits to the owner. I don’t own the show or any of the characters.”

Lover Boy Series Masterlist

I have never been so happy as much as I have been for the past month and a half. JJ and I have been seeing each other as much as possible, which is becoming a little difficult due to us wanting to keep our relationship private. Same goes for sex. We’ve been trying to find a place where we wouldn’t be interrupted. As long as I get to spend time with JJ, I’m happy at the end of the day. We’ve learned so much about each other, both in and outside the bedroom, and I’ve never been so happy. I want it to last forever.

Today, Damien had insisted that Rebecca, Jennifer and I get to know each other so we got up super early to take the ferry to go shopping on the mainland. Thankfully, it wasn’t all that bad. I was able to convince Sarah to come with us, thankfully because I didn’t want to spend the day with Jennifer and her best friend Samantha. Thing were going well and it seemed that Rebecca, Samantha and Jennifer were hitting it off. As of now, the three are trying on shoes, while Sarah and I are trying on clothes together. “What do you think of this one?” She asks for my opinion. I glance at the yellow bikini she tried on and nod in approval. “I like it. Yellow is a really good color on you.” “Thanks girly.” She smiles. I remove my top to try on a shirt when Sarah gasped. I whip my head towards her to see her face in utter shock.

“Are those fucking hickeys?” She points to my abdomen. My eyes nearly popped out of my sockets when I look in the mirror to see that my abdomen was indeed completely covered in them. Are you fucking kidding me JJ? I didn’t even notice. I look back at Sarah to see her laughing. “Holy shit! You’ve been pretty busy.” She teases. “Stop laughing and hand me my makeup bag! Oh my god.” I continue to stare at them mortified. She digs through my bag, along with finding my makeup bag, she finds something even more interesting. “Are these fucking birth control pills?” Her mouth is agape. I snatch the items out of here hands.

“Yes! And can we not shout it to the whole world?” I frantically begin to cover the hickeys while she laughs. “I’m sorry, but since when are you having sex?” “Since like last month?” She’s more than surprised. “You’ve been having sex for a month and a half and you haven’t told me?” “I know and I’m sorry, but we promised to each other that we’d keep our relationship private for now.” “Fair enough. Does Charis know?” “Yeah, she kind of found out. She had to pick me up from his place one time.” “Okay I see how it is. So, who is it?” She smiles excited for an answer. “I promised!” “Oh, come on! It’s the least you can do, plus your secret is safe with me.” She winks. I sigh. “It’s JJ.” She just giggles, thinking I’m bluffing, until she realizes I’m not. “Oh, shit you’re serious? Oh my god! You’re hooking up with JJ? As in JJ Maybank? As in John B’s best friend?” She keeps rambling. “Yeah, we sort of hit it off. Things have been great ever since.”

“Oh my god.” She said all of the sudden thinking to herself while I stand there confused. “That was you in there the last night.” She states. “What are you talking about?” I asked clueless. “So, last night I was hanging out with John B, Pope and Kiara at the chateau. We thought we were alone, until we heard some very loud moaning coming from the JJ’s room.” She explains. I just remember what she was talking about.

Last Night…

“Mm, yes JJ! Harder baby!” I let out a loud moan as JJ pounds into me from behind at an animalistic pace. “Oh yeah? You want me to fuck you harder babygirl? Want me to make you cum hard?” He asked while rock music plays in the background. “Yes, baby please!” I plead to his content. “Ask and you shall receive.” He says before grabbing onto me before pounding into me harder than I thought was humanly possible, causing me to scream out in pleasure. “Who fucks you good?” “You JJ!” “Whose dick is fucking your pussy?” He slaps my ass. “Yours JJ!” “Whose pussy does this belong to?” The headboard begins to hit the wall. “You JJ!” “What’s my name?” “JJ!” I scream to the top of my lungs when my orgasm washes over me, causing me to collapse on the bed, he soon falls down beside me after reaching his own high. We lay there for a moment panting. He looks over at me and asks, “Round two?” I smile back at him. “Fuck yeah.”

Present…

“Oh my god. I can’t believe you guys heard that.” I say before sliding down to floor wanting to curl up into a ball and hide away forever. “Yeah me either. We left when you guys started going at it again.” “Oh my god. That is so embarrassing. We thought we had the place to ourselves.” I apologize. “Yea I could hear that, but next time, check to see if there’s anyone home.” She advises. “Deal.” “Who knew? Clean in the streets, dirty in the sheets.” She laughs. “Stop!” I plead.

I was happy to return home after a rather mortifying conversation in the fitting rooms. “We’re going out for a bite to eat. Would you like to join or are you planning on making a scene somewhere else?” Jennifer asked all bitchy, her friend Samantha snickers. Rebecca went back home to her and Damián’s place, so it was just going to be the two of them, and Sarah has to leave for an appointment with the dentist. “Pass.” I didn’t even bother to look up as I went through the mail. I didn’t even notice the sound of the lawnmower running in the backyard as I sipped on my boba and Sarah is filming herself with me in the background, most likely making a TikTok.

“Damn, if he weren’t a pogue, I’d definitely fuck him.” Says Samantha. For a moment we all thought she was talking about Mr. Murray the regular lawnmower, so we were all a little grossed out at first, until we turned our heads to see a shirtless JJ mowing the lawn.

Out of shock, I accidentally suck in too fast, causing a bunch of tapioca pearls to shoot in my mouth, all launching into the back of my throat. In result, the tea that my dumbass hadn’t swallowed beforehand sprays out through my nose and onto the counter. My eyes begin to water as I violently begin to cough attempting to dislodge the tapioca pearls that were making me choke. They finally launch across the counter making everyone jump and shout. “Jesus Christ!” “What the shit!” “Holy fuck!” All can be heard throughout the kitchen. I finally catch my breath and clear my throat. Tears run down my face. “Are you okay?!” Sarah asked concerned.

“Holy shit, can you keep it in your pants?” Jennifer asked out of disgust. “What happened Aria? Did you take those balls a little too deep?” Samantha asked. “Technically they’re tapioca pearls.” Jennifer corrects her. “Fuck you guys and Samantha you can suck on those stupid “balls” for all I care.” I referenced to the tapioca demon balls. “Rather be sucking his.” She nods towards JJ. I finally lose my shit, jealousy overcoming me. I didn’t even think before acting, when I picked up the boba throwing it on her, staining her white top. Everyone gasps. “You fucking bitch!” Screams Samantha.

“Screw you, you god damn horny demon ass ball sucking motherfucker!” “What is your problem?!” Jennifer shouts. “She’s the one with the fucking problem!” I exclaim. “You are so childish! C’mon Samantha, I have an extra shirt in the car. Let’s get out of here.” The two glare daggers at me as they leave, car keys in hand. The door slams on the way out.

“Are you okay?” Asked Sarah. “Yeah I’m fine.” I reply. “Good, cause that shit was hilarious!” She said dying of laughter. I began laughing along with her after realizing just how funny and ridiculous the whole situation was. “Hey a little word of advice. The key to keeping a relationship secret, is to be discreet.” “Ha ha, screw you.” I laugh. “I got that shit on tape.” “I swear to god if you post it, I’ll kill you.” My heart drops to my stomach. “Don’t worry I won’t, but I will show it on your wedding day.” She jokes. “Don’t you have a dentist appointment?” I tried to get her to leave. “Indeed. I’ll see you later. Love you tons and please don’t choke on anymore balls!” She yells before the front door closes. Last time I ever drink boba.

I decide to go outside after cleaning up the mess. JJ has finished up and started putting away the lawnmower. His body is glistening with sweat making him look absolutely irresistible. I approach him with a sinful master plan in my head. He turns to me with a smile on his face ready to say something, but I immediately shut him up when my lips attacked his, taking him by surprise. He kissed back after a few seconds. I decide to take it to the next level, I palm him, resulting in a surprised moan escaping his mouth. “Meet me in the bathroom closest to the kitchen when you’re ready. I’ll be waiting.” And I leave at that heading back inside.

As expected, he bursts into the room already removing his shorts and boxers, his member springs out already hard. I’m standing in the shower when he joins me. “What’s this about? Not that I’m complaining.” He asked. “Don’t worry about it. Just fuck me.” “Don’t have to tell me twice.” He picks me up and my legs instinctively wrap around his waist. He waste no time to shove himself into me, giving me little time to adjust, before pounding away. Our bodies begin to feel hot with the combination of the sex and water, our skin begins to turn red, but neither of care. For we’re too busy chasing our orgasms. My nails begin to lightly claw at his back when I start to feel the familiar knot in my stomach. “Fuck, I don’t think I’m going to last long babygirl.” He groans. “Me neither.” I attempt to hold back my orgasm. With that he speeds up, reaching deeper within me and hitting that spot. I finally let go when I started to notice that his thrusts were becoming sloppy. “Fuck!” He exclaimed and ejaculated deep inside me.

After the two of us came down from our highs, we dry off and put our clothes back on. “So, what was that about?” He asked. “Nothing. Just missed you.” I’m too embarrassed to admit that I was jealous and petty, that I lost my shit and became horny. “Babe, you can tell me, you know that right?” He takes my hand. I sigh. “I’m sorry. I was in the kitchen with the girls and Samantha was going on about how she would fuck you and suck you off. I just got so jealous and mad that I couldn’t say anything about it.” I see JJ’s very confused and surprised face. “Hold up, how the hell was that conversation brought to the table?” “Long story short, she was checking you out, I choked on tapioca pearls, then she decided to make a joke about sucking your balls.” “What the hell are tapioca pearls? Sounds like a name for some weird sex toy.” “What? No! They’re made from this starch that come from cassava roots. They’re what you find in boba.” “What’s boba?” “Bubble tea! But that’s beside the point!” “Oh! Kie drinks that shit all the time.” “Enough with the boba!” He just chuckles and plants a small kiss on my nose.

“Calm down sparky. You’re the only one for me. I’ll choke to death on those weird jelly balls before I leave you for someone else.” I laugh at him. “That was surprisingly sweet.” We both laugh together and head to the kitchen. I make him some lunch, which he gladly chows down. Just as I’m paying him cash for his work, Samantha and Jennifer walk in. “What are you guys doing back here? I thought you were going out to eat?” I asked eyeing Samantha as she continued to check out JJ. “We arrived in the parking lot, only to find out we forgot our wallets.” Jennifer explained clearly still annoyed about what happened earlier. I look over at Samantha who returns an annoyed gaze at me.

“What? Planning on throwing another drink at me?” “Don’t tempt me.” She just rolls her eyes before returning her flirtatious gaze towards JJ. “So, when are you free from mowing lawns?” This fucking bitch. If looks could kill, she’d be dead. “Hate to break it to you, but I already have a girlfriend.” “Ditch her. I can give you so much more than her.” I should’ve thrown holy water on her horny demon ass instead. “Hard pass. Not only is my girlfriend the sexiest woman I’ve set eyes on, she’s also the most confident, intelligent, funniest, kindest and adventurous woman I have ever met. I knew I hit the jackpot when I got with her. You see I like to aim high; you missy are rock bottom and there’s no way you’ll ever make it to the top where my girl holds the crown.”

I think my heart just skipped a fucking beat holy shit. Someone call the doctor my heart just stopped, and while you’re at it, get the cops on the phone, my heart has just been stolen, I need to report a robbery. And with that, a now humiliated Samantha and surprised Jennifer leave the house. I didn’t hesitate to jump into his welcoming arms and kiss him with so much passion and happiness. "So, threw your drink on her?” He asked. “Shut up.” “So feisty.”

#jj maybank #jj maybank smut #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fic #obx imagine

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niall-the-churchboy · 4 years

Text

The Better One ~ Louis Tomlinson x reader

In which Louis leave Y/n for her sister

Warnings: Kinda angsty

Word Count: 1.8K

Y/n had always been the overlooked sister, I mean, she could understand why, being the smallest of three girls made it hard to stand out.

Her sisters were beyond unique and with extreme beauties, they were talented and intelligent and more than she could dream of ever being. And then, there was little Y/n, the one who always had to think twice before giving her opinion because she feared it would be wrong; the one who at the dinner table no one would hear what she had to say, sometimes even interrupting her mid-sentence; the one who everyone thought her suggestion on something was not reliable or useful. She wouldn’t dare to complain though, she had grew up with a silver spoon granted at her, and she was well aware of how privileged she was.

However it didn’t take away the pain, and she felt guilty for that, what right did she have to complain when people all around the world didn’t have to eat? Or a comfy place to live in? So whenever someone --her friends even-- joked about her being the failure of the family she laughed along them and made it look as if it was funny. She knew they didn’t actually mean it --she was sweet and people loved being around her-- but it still hurt.

She didn’t complain about her beauty, it was just a standard given by society, and she was happy with being ‘average’, but it killed her whenever someone would meet any of her two sisters and instantly comment on how beautiful they were. And their intelligence, Y/n could swear they knew almost everything, always had bright A’s and B’s without even trying. Unfortunately it wasn't her case, she had to study for weeks to ace an exam, try to memorise and understand the logic of every detail in every book. She knew she wasn’t the smartest --not that she was dumb either-- but comparing herself to her sisters made her mad. Was it too hard to give her a brain too?

She believes her mother noticed this repetitive comparison, maybe the countless of times her mother had overheard Y/n encouraging herself to keep on studying because her sisters would have had great marks, or the amount of times she had cached her own daughter glancing on the mirror, examining her nose or lips or face.

“What are you doing?”, her mother had once asked when she found Y/n comparing her report card to her sisters’ ones. “Nothing! I’m sorry”, she apologised.

Apologise. She would always apologise for the tiniest of errors. “Y/n, it’s okay. It’s no big deal, you don’t need to apologise”, her mom would asure her but it just didn't sit right.

Her parents were happy and eager when Y/n announced she would bring home her boyfriend for the holidays. In her short twenty-four years of life she had never had a boyfriend or a special someone, something that had also been different from her sisters’ teenage years. They where even more surprised when they found out it was no other than Louis Tomlinson himself.

Louis and Y/n had met in an interview, she was asking him question about his new album like the professional reporter she was when all of a sudden he asked her out.

“I’m sorry, I believe I didn’t hear you correctly”, she said brushing her hair behind her ear. Louis laughed, that charming laugh that would cause dimples in his cheeks and Y/n couldn't contain her blushing. My god! Why was she so dumb and awkward?!

“I asked if you would like to go out sometime, maybe go to a coffee place or to a bar...”, he asked again waiting for her to answer with a positive response. Y/n glanced at her coworkers who were filming them and the she looked back at Louis, “me? You want to go on a date with me?” Poor Y/n, she couldn’t believe it herself someone would invite her out, let alone a celebrity, she believed this was a twisted joke her mind was playing on her.

“Yes. If you don’t want to I totally understand”, Louis was quick to answer. So she said yes, and she pinched herself during the whole date just to make sure she wasn't dreaming.

It was difficult for Y/n to open up, someone was suddenly asking for her opinions in certain things and questioning about her day, but Louis knew what he was getting himself into and truly believed she was worth it. It took Y/n a whole year and a half to bring Louis home, she was scared of him meeting her sisters and suddenly realising how little she had to offer. Obviously she would never tell him this and always excused herself saying they were very far away from her hometown.

The day would eventually come, and now there they were, standing at the door of her childhood house with a grip on their suitcases and tight coats against the cold December winter. “Y/n!”, Avery, the second child, greeted them with a christmas hat and a warm hug towards her little sister before welcoming them in.

“Avery, this is Louis. Louis, this is Avery”, she said with a sweet smile as they shook hands. “Y/n, is that you, sweetheart?”, the cheerful voice of her mother reached her and Y/n felt herself grow happier, soon enough her mother was coming out of the living room with an eager look on her face. “Is this handsome man Louis?”, she continued to ask after hugging tightly her younger daughter.

Louis liked being here, they didn’t seem to treat him like a celebrity and that made him feel normal for once, he wrapped his arms around Y/n’s waist as they sat on the dinner table that was already waiting for them with a big turkey. The table held all new faces for him, Y/n’s father who smiled proudly when asked who had cooked; Avery and her Husband, Chris, who was a Lawyer; and Y/n’s mother.

“Where is Tessa?”, Y/n asked when everyone began serving themselves food. “Oh, Tessa wasn't feeling well. I believe she's asleep”, her mother answered her and Y/n ordered herself to remain happy even though she had a sad feeling forming on her chest.

Tessa and Y/n didn't have the brightest of relationships, Tessa had always been somewhat mean towards Y/n and the younger sibling had never know why. When she was eight she came to the conclusion that her sister hated her, Y/n tried everything to become part of Tessa’s white list but the task seemed impossible. So she kept her head down low and sinked in the words her sister would tell her because she clearly had done something wrong and she had to pay the price of it.

“Oh...”, Y/n made a pregnant pause, a year had gone by since she last saw her sister, why would Tessa prolong their reunion even further?, “I’ll be sure to go say hi to her when we finish eating.”

“That won’t be needed”, all eyes fell on the women who walked down the stairs with sturdy long legs, hair curled perfectly and her face completely clean even though she didn't have a single drop of make up on. Y/n felt Louis hand fall from her waist.

“Tessa, is so nice to see you again”, Y/n stood up from her chair and went to greet her sister. “Good to see you too, Y/n”, the older one answered looking at her right in the eye. “Em, sorry, this is Louis”, Y/n continued to present her boyfriend after a quick hug.

“Nice to meet you, Louis.”

-----

Their connection was almost instant and Y/n hated herself for it. Tessa had recently divorced and Louis seemed like the perfect distraction. However, Louis grew interested in his girlfriend’s sister. They both had the same age, so it instantly gave them more similarities; they liked football, a sport Y/n never really understood; and a special chemistry between them that Y/n had never experienced ever in her life.

Y/n became more impatient for the two weeks to end so she and Louis could go back home and escape her sister’s seductive stares. But Y/n knew, she knew her time was running out when Louis barely spent time with her and began replacing her with Tessa. Both Avery and her mother attempted to keep Y/n occupied with other things, but the reality was that no one knew what to do.

She was taking the garbage out when she spot them, it took her almost five seconds to realise that it was in fact his boyfriend kissing his sister, that’s when she knew it was over. Her stupid, little to offer self had lost again, this time however, the only person who actually listened to her. So she went back inside and told herself that she should leave because who was she to ruin their love? She wanted them to be happy, and if they needed each other to achieve that she would have to move from their way, even if it hurt her in the process.

The sun had already set and it was snowing when she told Louis. She had asked him to go outside to talk for a little while and he had agreed with an irritated look on his face.

“I bought an airplane ticket to leave at dawn”, was the first thing she said.

“What? Why would you do that?”, Louis asked as anger began stirring in his insides, they didn't leave until three more days and christmas was still to arrive! Y/n cupped her hands together as she tried not to cry, she wasn't allowed to cry.

“I only bought one, for me. You should stay here with Tessa and my family, I don’t want to damage things for you”, she explained sighing. It was hard to let go.

Louis knew instantly what she was talking about, she knew. Maybe they hadn't been as careful as they thought, but he wasn't sorry --probably just a little that he had broke Y/n on the process, but he knew she would get over it--, he wanted Tessa, he loved Tessa.

“I’m really sorry, Louis”, Y/n said. What was she apologising for? Oh well, she had forgot. “I won’t ruin things anymore. I’ll leave and grab my things back at home, it will be like I was never even there, I promise.” She felt angry at herself for letting tears spill from her eyes, “I’m sorry. I’ll leave now, thanks for everything Louis.”

Indeed she left, with barely an explanation towards her family and a shuttered heart. Don’t they say goodbyes are the hardest? And Y/n knows that what comes always goes.

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

I feel sad for Y/n and mad at both Tessa and Louis! I think she deserves a better ending, what do you guys think?

Part 2 is here

#louis tomilson #louis tomlinson one shot #louis tomlinson fanfiction #louis tomlinson imagine #Louis tomlinson blurb #one direction #onedirection #one direction one shot #one direction preferences #one direction fanfiction #one direction imagines #one direction 2020 #one direction fandom #1d #niall horan #harry styles #zayn zquad #liam payne

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kinktae · 5 years

Text

groovy || pt. 2 (FINAL)

↳ PART OF MY REWIND SERIES

Even in the 70s, it goes without saying that you shouldn’t have feelings for your best friend’s little sister.

pairing: tae x childhood friend!reader

word count: 10k

genre: 1970s au, fluff, ANGST, eventual smut, f2l

warnings: tae & OC do the NASTY (smut is being edited), Jimin is an endearing pothead, themes of death, unhealthy coping mechanisms such as alcohol and sex

A/N: This fic was entirely inspired by the song If I Could Tell her by from the musical Dear Evan Hansen. Go give it a listen ;)

OFFICIAL PLAYLIST

01 | 02 (FINAL)

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

PART TWO (FINAL) **UNEDITED**

Hoseok crossed his arms over his chest, "Jimin, you gotta be higher than a kite to stand here and tell me that Jaws is scarier than The Exorcist."

"Objection, your honor! How is that relevant to the argument?" Jimin turned towards Taehyung, his bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly.

"Overruled. I'll allow it just this once." Taehyung stated decidedly, rubbing at his chin dramatically.

"Fine." Jimin squinted, turning back towards Hoseok, looking coy. "I will neither confirm nor deny that accusation, but I still vote Jaws."

The two friends were in a heated debate over which of the two films reigned supreme. What started as a mere difference in opinions quickly turned into something far more dramatic, the three boys using it as a means to pass the time as the final hours of the day approached.

"Regan's head literally spins. She was like a fucking owl, man." Hoseok emphasized.

"The Exorcist is unrealistic.” Jimin waved off easily. “Ya know what's real and scary? Sharks.”

Hoseok shook his head in frustration, his dark locks shifting as he did so.

"I don't deny that Sharks are scary but a little possessed girl crab walking down the stairs? Scarier."

"Dude, The Exorcist was gross." Jimin frowned.

Hoseok gasped, quickly turning to his blond friend. "Objection! Your honor, that was a biased claim on his part."

"Sustained. No raggin' on either film." Taehyung agreed, causing Jimin to sigh.

"Fine. The Exorcist was graphic.” Jimin corrected himself. “Who wants to see a little girl projectile vomit all over herself?”

Suddenly, Hoseok brought his hand down onto the counter, the loud noise causing both Taehyung and Jimin to jump.

"Exactly!" He declared far too enthusiastically. "It's grotesque— disturbing even! That's what makes it so damn scary. The Exorcist is the superior horror film. I rest my case."

"Uh... is now not a good time?"

The sound of an entirely new voice appearing suddenly caused all three men to turn around. You were standing by the shop’s door, a perplexed yet amused expression on your pretty face. Taehyung was so taken aback by your sudden arrival that he nearly missed the Tupperware container that was being held between your hands.

"Y/N, Hey!" Taehyung exclaimed, an embarrassed hue crawling over his face. "No, uh, we were just... We didn't hear the bell, sorry!"

You laughed lightly, "No worries."

It hadn't been long since the last time Taehyung had seen you. As a matter of fact, just yesterday morning he had driven you back home so it didn’t make much sense for his heart to be pounding this loudly at the sight of you standing here in front of him.

Your hair had been thrown up in a ponytail that looked last minute but neat all the same, but it wasn’t your hairstyle that caught his attention. Crawling up your legs and underneath your denim skirt were a pair of bright yellow stockings, very much like the ones you used to wear when you were younger.

You were brilliant, he realized. Standing there in all your colored stocking glory, you were absolutely captivating and the blond boy suddenly wished he had put more effort into getting ready today.

His hair was lying flat against his head, having gone unstyled, and he had run out of his contact lenses, forcing him to wear his unflattering frames today.

You took note of his glasses' sudden appearance immediately; the last time you had seen Taehyung with them was when the two of you were still both puberty plagued teenagers. Still, there was something about the bespeckled boy that was comforting to see and much to his chagrin, you stared at him openly.

"U-Uh, you’ve met my friends Hoseok and Jimin, right?" Taehyung stuttered, growing flustered under your stare.

At his words, you looked over at the two boys in question– the shorter of the two had light brown hair and offered you a pleasant smile while the other one stared at you stone-faced, arms crossed over his chest.

"Jung Hoseok, right?" You recalled, flashing the solemn boy a nod.

Hoseok's eyes noticeably widened.

"Wasn't sure you remembered me." He responded cautiously.

You cocked your head to the side, "You were the first guy to ever kick my brother's ass. Hard to forget a moment like that."

"Yeah, well, someone had to knock that asshole down a peg." Hoseok smirked causing Taehyung to bump his shoulder into the dark-haired boy disapprovingly.

"Uh... no disrespect, of course." Hoseok corrected himself. You shook your head.

"No, you're right. He definitely had it coming." You smiled softly.

The exact moment the two of you were referencing had occurred in your junior year of high school, before Jungkook's death. You didn't know much of your brother's social life other than that Taehyung was in it but you remembered hearing the name Hoseok thrown around once or twice. From your understanding, he was someone in Jungkook's social circle that he didn't particularly care for but seemed to tolerate for Taehyung’s sake.

That all changed, however, one day in your school’s courtyard.

You weren't surprised to hear that your brother had started yet another fight in school– he had an awful temper and an even worse ability to control it –but you were, in fact, pleasantly surprised to find out that the fight had ended with Jungkook getting his ass handed back to him by Hoseok.

Both boys were suspended but Jungkook's punishment lasted far longer than Hoseok's was– the fight having not have been his first offense on school grounds.

Jungkook never got to see the end of his suspension, you realized suddenly. He died two weeks before he was due back.

Pushing that dark thought away, you shook your head, putting on a pleasant expression.

"I don't know what was more bruised, his eye or his ego." You joked. Hoseok grinned at your words, clearly surprised at how lightly you spoke of the situation.

“I gotta say, Jeon, you’re not nearly as shitty as your brother.” Hoseok chuckled.

There was something off about the smile that you gave him in reply and, for a split second, he feared that he had said something out of line. Taehyung noticed it too. Seeping through the place where your lips met was a bitter truth– a silent disagreement that you were in fact just as shitty as your brother but lacked the courage to say it.

“Hey, what’s in the container?” Taehyung finally spoke up, eager to shift the topic to something lighter.

“Oh. Right!" You blinked, your entire demeanor changing, "That’s actually why I came. I made brownies.”

Jimin noticeably perked up, eyes falling onto the container silently.

“What kind of brownies?” Jimin wondered lowly.

Hoseok shot him a look before turning to you, "You made us brownies?"

You shrugged, "Well, technically, I made them for Blondie but you guys are more than welcome to have some."

Taehyung's ears went pink. The idea that you made and brought brownies specifically for him was so overwhelmingly endearing he thought his heart might combust.

"F-For me?" He stuttered. You nodded eagerly.

Something you always liked about Taehyung was how easy it was to know what he was thinking, even if he didn’t want you to. He wore his emotions on his sleeve and was pretty much an open book to all.

You knew there was a small part of you that was jealous of him. Jealous of how transparent and honest he was. Because if you tried to be that way it wouldn't be something admirable or wonderful at all. It would be ugly and spiteful.

When Jungkook first died, you were something like a bomb, fragile yet on the verge of exploding at any given moment. You were angry all the time and lost a lot of friends who you treated poorly, taking from their wells of forgiveness until they had entirely run dry.

So for the moment, you were content with presenting a false version of yourself to others. If you had to paint a picture of yourself for them then at least you would make sure it was a pretty one.

"Yeah. Think of it as a thank you for letting me stay over the other night." You continued.

Hoseok's eyebrows raised, finding the context of your words incredibly interesting given the last thing he knew of your and Tae’s relationship was that it had been severed when Taehyung had tried to kiss you in your brother’s room.

"Oh? Is that so?" Hoseok mused cheekily causing Taehyung to send him a glare.

"It's... uh, no big deal." Taehyung dismissed easily, ignoring the way his friend was staring at him suggestively.

"So," Jimin spoke up once more, "are they just regular brownies or...?"

"For fuck's sake, Jimin, they're not weed brownies!" Hoseok laughed, causing the shorter boy to huff.

"What makes you think that's why I was asking? I could have a nut allergy for all you know." Jimin defended.

Taehyung blinked, "You don't have a nut allergy?"

"Yeah, I don't." He admitted, turning to you with a boyish smile.

"They're just regular brownies. Sorry to disappoint." You laughed, setting the container down onto the counter.

"Don’t sweat it. I’m still stoked." Jimin shrugged, walking over to pry open the container. "Free food is free food.”

And with that, the three boys finally began to dig in and you watched cautiously as they did so, hoping that at least some of your mother’s baking ability had been passed down to you.

"These are ace!" Was your eventual reassurance, coming from a satisfied looking Jimin, who shot you a thumbs up with his unoccupied hand.

Taehyung and Hoseok made noises of agreement, mouths too full to verbally agree.

“Aren’t you gonna have one?” Jimin pressed, shoving his mouth with the remaining piece of his brownie.

“They’re really good, Y/N.” Hoseok added.

You shook your head, “Oh no, I don’t really care too much for sweets. I just know Taehyung loves the recipe my family uses.”

Taehyung's head turned towards you, swallowing down the food in his mouth harshly as he looked at you in surprise.

“I didn’t know you knew that.” He admitted, licking his lips clean. You tucked your hands into the pockets of your skirt, a familiar memory creeping into your brain.

“I remember one Sunday night when you were sleeping over my mom made brownies and you ate like eight pieces. And then, when you thought everyone was sleeping, you snuck back into the kitchen for more.”

Taehyung’s eyes went as wide as saucers, “Wait, hold on... you knew about that?”

Honestly, this was the first time Taehyung had thought back on the moment in years but he remembered it vividly. Slipping out of bed without waking up a sleeping Jungkook and tiptoeing past you and your parent’s room felt like mission possible at the time and he was under the impression that he had gotten away with it.

“Yep. I heard you walk past my room. I got curious so I followed you into the kitchen and watched you pig out.” You laughed heartily, your ponytail swaying side to side as you did so.

“You watched me?!”

“I was always watching you.” You admitted coolly, picking up a brownie crumb from the container lid and plopping it into your mouth.

“That sounds... kind of creepy, Jeon.” Hoseok muttered, flashing you a concerned look.

You shrugged, leaning your hip against the counter.

“I was a kid and, well, I wasn’t exactly allowed to just go up and talk to Blondie. Jungkook would’ve literally killed me if he found out that I had a cru–”

Cutting your sentence off abruptly, you cleared your throat, oblivious to the way Taehyung had gone stiff, heart in his throat.

“Anyway, where were you guys with the trial?” You turned towards Hoseok, face burning as you change the topic onto the debate that was taking place before you arrived.

Holy shit.

You had a crush on Taehyung?

He felt like he had been dunked into an ice-cold pool; was it really possible that you ever saw Taehyung the way he still saw you?

He exhaled in disbelief, tucking a hand into his jeans.

He could die of happiness. They could bury him six feet under and it wouldn’t phase him in the slightest. It didn’t even matter that you no longer felt the same way. Just knowing that his one-sided love for you wasn’t always so one-sided was fulfilling enough.

Then again… he could be wrong. Maybe he was jumping to conclusions. You hadn’t finished your sentence, after all, you could’ve gone on to say any number of things. He was probably just overthinking like he always did. He spent nearly every second of his teenage years watching you, he would’ve noticed if you had any sort of feelings towards him... Right?

Your face felt like it was on fire. Worst yet, you could feel Taehyung’s eyes on you. He wasn’t saying a word and it made your chest feel tight.

“Oh. That. Whatever, I retract my statement, let Hobi have this win.” Jimin shrugged, too concerned with grabbing a second brownie to keep the debate going.

“Wait, really?” Hoseok frowned, suspicion gleaming in his eyes.

“Sure. If you say The Exorcist is scarier, then it's scarier.” Jimin concluded, moving to bite into his brownie.

“Right on!” Hoseok laughed, throwing an arm over the shoulders of his passive best friend suddenly.

The action took Jimin by surprise as he was yanked into Hoseok’s side, a small noise of disappointment escaping his lips as he lost grip of his brownie and it flopped onto the floor.

Hoseok showed no indication that he even noticed, his cocky grin persisting.

“This is why I keep you around, you know.” Hoseok teased. “What’s that you always say? Get laid, don’t fight?”

“Make love, not war.” Jimin grumbled, still mourning the loss of his fallen snack.

“Same shit.” Hoseok dismissed, turning towards Taehyung. “So then, your honor, what’s the final verdict?”

Maybe if Taehyung weren’t so preoccupied with staring at you, then he would have heard Hoseok’s call, but it wasn’t like he had much of choice. You were staring down at your shoes as if they were the most interesting thing in the world, bottom lip tucked in between your teeth as you appeared lost in thought.

“Tae? Anyone home?” Jimin laughed, finally pulling the blond out of his Y/N focused trance.

“Huh?” Taehyung replied.

Something both of his friends never gave Hoseok enough credit for was his ability to read people. So the moment he laid eyes on Taehyung staring at you like a love-struck puppy, he knew he had to do something to help.

“Actually… I think it’s about time Jimin and I headed out.” Hoseok announced suddenly, glancing down at his watch lazily.

“What? Why?” Jimin turned towards Hoseok in confusion.

“Yeah, what? You guys can stay until closing, you know that.” Taehyung added.

"You mean stay and have to help you clean and close up shop? Nah, man.” Hoseok scoffed, waving off the idea with a hand.

“Listen, I’m sure you and Y/N have lots of other nostalgic brownie stories to reminisce on.” Hoseok turned to meet Jimin’s eyes. “Besides, Jimin and I have stuff to do. Isn’t that right, Jimin?”

Jimin blinked, unsure of what was happening but knowing Hoseok well enough not to question whatever scheme he had cooking up.

“Uh… yeah! Lots of things. You know us, busy busy! People call us the busy boys, you know.”

Taehyung squinted, recognizing the boy’s awkward rambling as his attempt to lie. While Hoseok had a real knack for trouble, Jimin was just not cut out for such mischief.

“No one calls you guys that.” Taehyung pointed out flatly.

“Well, they should.” Hoseok chimed in, pulling the flustered hippie towards the door.

“Guys–”

"Check ya later, Tae!" The older boy called out, the door’s bell harmonizing with his goodbye. Taehyung frowned.

“Bye, Tae. It was nice meeting you, Y/N. Thanks for the brownies!” Jimin added, flashing you both a wide smile before the front door closed shut, leaving Taehyung alone with you.

There was a record playing somewhere in the back of the room. You remembered hearing it when you first arrived but forgot all about it once you began to speak to Taehyung and his friends.

It sounded somewhat familiar, but not familiar enough for you to pin down a title. You thought you recognized the artist– The Isley Brothers, maybe?

You crossed your arms as you listened briefly, opening your mouth to ask Taehyung before shutting it before you got the chance.

Taehyung was doing that nervous sleeve thing, you noted.

God, this was so awkward. You had to say something. Maybe you should clear up what you meant earlier.

“Hey, I’m–”

“Do you–’”

The two of you spoke in unison, surprising each other. Taehyung felt his shoulders relax as you burst out into light giggles, clearing finding amusement in the situation. Your laugh could lift any mood, he was sure.

“You go first.” Taehyung insisted happily.

Things were okay, you realized. There was no need to go back and dwell on things that would just make things complicated.

You shook your head, “No, nothing, I just… Your friends are nice. I like them. I miss that feeling.”

“What feeling?”

“Being surrounded by friends, I guess. I don’t really have any. I miss hanging out with people.” You shrugged.

Automatically, Taehyung flashed you a sympathetic look. You knew it was a normal response and that it came from kindness but it made you feel uneasy. You were far too used to people looking at you with pity.

“So.” You say, clearing your throat.

“So.” Taehyung countered.

“What were you going to say?” You asked.

“Huh?”

“Before I interrupted you, what were you going to say?” You reminded. A look of remembrance flashed onto Taehyung’s face before a lopsided smile crept onto his face.

You cocked your head at his expression, raising an eyebrow as you awaited his next words.

“Do you want Burger King?”

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Yes, I know I should have called sooner.” You sighed, listening to your frantic mother’s voice seeping through the phone.

“Mom, I–”

Your eyes flickered over your shoulder, meeting a worried-looking Taehyung who was holding a fry up to his mouth. You stuck your tongue out at him, hoping to lighten up the mood.

He could hear your mother’s muffled but clipped voice through his house phone. Naturally, after the two of you picked up food, you found yourself back at Taehyung’s house to eat it. It wasn’t until you had finished your meal that you realized you hadn’t come back home as scheduled and that your parents were most likely furious.

Despite Taehyung’s efforts to get you home in one piece the other day, your lack of change in clothes clued them in on the fact that you hadn’t gone out to spend the night at a friend's like you had claimed.

One heated confrontation later and the truth of your excursion came to light. Your mother had broken down into tears when you told her that Taehyung had found you drunk and alone on the side of the road; as far as your parents were concerned, you had stopped such reckless behavior years ago.

You let your mother ramble over the phone for a bit before finally explaining yourself.

“Mom. I’m at Taehyung’s.” You explained. Your words were met with a brief pause on your mother’s end and Taehyung quirked his head in confusion.

Something he couldn’t hear must have been said, however, as a satisfied grin took over your face and you bid your mother a light-hearted goodbye, promising you’d call when you were on the way back home.

At the sound of the line going dead and you putting the earpiece back into the phone, Taehyung spoke up.

“Everything okay?”

“Mm? Oh yeah. All it took was mentioning you and her whole tune changed.” You nodded, walking over to where Taehyung was sat on his couch.

The blond boy flashed you a toothy grin.

“Really? That’s all it took?”

You laughed.

“Are you kidding? Your every parent’s dream kid. Kind, responsible, hard-working... Man, they love you, Taehyung.”

Suddenly, a pensive look fell over you as you appeared to get lost in thought.

“It’s hard not to.” You sighed finally, grabbing a fry from Taehyung’s plate and popping it into your mouth casually.

He wasn’t sure what to make of your words but warmth found his face all the same.

Lately, it felt like he was always finding double meaning in your words and he wasn’t sure if they were purposeful or if he was just getting more and more desperate to paint the narrative that you somehow loved him too. He had to force himself to push back such ideas, his own selfish desires too much for his fragile heart to endure.

“Taehyung?”

Realizing that you had been standing while he sat all this time, Taehyung stood up suddenly. It was an awkward repositioning but you paid it no mind, your next words clearly weighing heavily on your mind.

"What would've happened if my parents didn't come home that day?”

Taehyung froze. He opened his mouth to respond but thankfully shut it right away, needing a moment to collect himself.

The question had blind-sighted him; he had spent the better half of the past three days trying not to think about the unfortunate event that went down in Jungkook’s bedroom.

He’d never stop hating himself for that moment.

Still, he wasn’t sure what to make of your question. He allowed for a few more moments of wordlessness before he decided that answering honestly would be his best bet.

Tucking his hands into his pockets, he swallowed harshly. "I probably would have kissed you."

He had no doubt he was blushing, especially with the way your eyes refused to pull away from his face.

"To comfort me?”

"I, uh… No."

“Then, why?” You pressed.

Taehyung bit down on his lip, wondering just how honest to be with you right now. Was this how he was going to admit that he had been in love with you all these years?

He shook his head.

“I just… wanted to.” He admitted, before continuing hurriedly, “B-But I’m sorry! I wasn’t thinking– seriously, I shouldn’t have taken advantage of such a vulnerable moment. I’m really, really sorry. I should’ve apologized sooner.”

You nodded.

“It's okay. I’d just prefer if you didn’t, you know, try to kiss me in my dead brother’s bedroom.”

Taehyung grimaced at your words, offering you an awkward laugh and sheepish smile, “Yeah… Definitely not the right time or place.”

Taehyung felt like he could breathe easier now knowing you hadn’t looked too deeply into the attempted kiss. Hopefully, this meant things could stop being so awkward between you two and things could go back to the way they were before. He missed having you around.

“Um…”

Taehyung’s thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of one of your hands reaching out and gripping onto the fabric of his sleeve, much like the way he would himself when he was nervous. He glanced down at the gesture, eyes wide at your proximity.

"We’re not in his room anymore." Your words were muttered lowly, as if suddenly shy.

Taehyung blinked.

What?

Did that mean what he thought it did? Did you just imply that he could kiss you? Or did he just fail to wake up this morning and was stuck in another one of his sad, pining dreams about you?

Gaze fixated on where your fingers were still wrapped around the fabric of his sleeve, you were unable to meet his eyes.

"Huh?" Taehyung replied, simply because he couldn't conjure up a single intelligent thought.

Your eyes met his for a moment before flickering away once again, brows furrowed.

"My parents aren't here either so..."

Taehyung's heart was banging against his chest as if wanting to lurch right out of it and offer itself to you as you were its rightful owner.

No way.

There was just no way the girl he had been in love with since he was fifteen was standing in front of him asking him to kiss her.

“I'm... Are you–"

"Geez, Blondie." You cut him off, voice pitched high at the thought of having to repeat it. "Do I have to spell it out for you?"

If it were in any other situation, the tone in your voice would have suggested that you were angry, but the way you tugged at his sleeve let him know you weren't upset, but rather just incredibly embarrassed, unable to express directly just how much you wanted Taehyung to kiss you.

To your surprise, instead of Taehyung awkwardly stuttering out an apology, two large palms found either side of your face, forcing you to look back over at him. Before your eyes even got the chance to make contact with his, however, his mouth found yours, eliciting a small noise of surprise from the back of your throat.

The kiss was everything you imagined a kiss from Taehyung would feel like.

Soft. Gentle. Perfect.

His mouth felt warm against yours, distracting you from the subtle way his hands trembled. Despite the way your mouths moved against each other cautiously, still unfamiliar with such intimacy, something about the exchange felt natural, as if the two of you were always meant to embrace each other like this. And as Taehyung pulled away, you let that thought run through your mind, his warm eyes holding yours.

Silence rang between the two of you; Taehyung bit onto the inside of his cheek, waiting for you to say something but neither of you could seem to work up the nerve.

“Should I not have done that?” He spoke finally, heart in his throat.

“Probably not.” You murmured, still slightly dazed from the kiss.

Suddenly, you placed a hand against his chest, the faint pounding of his heart kissing your palm. Part of you was thrilled to see that the kiss had affected him as much as it had you, but there was also a part of you— a bitter one— that knew that taking this any further would be unfair to Taehyung.

Something told you that if you asked Taehyung for his heart that he’d give it to you, that he was just that kind, and that scared the hell out of you. Taehyung deserved a hell of a lot more than the selfish little sister of his dead best friend.

Sure, you did your best to paint a pretty picture but that didn’t negate the parts of you that were monstrously ugly.

When Jungkook first died, you picked up drinking; weekends usually blurring by as you drifted through the days without regard. You used to think it helped, that drinking all night only to wake up the next morning still just as intoxicated would silence your screaming thoughts of self-loathing, but you came to find out quickly that alcohol was merely a temporary novocaine.

That’s when you turned to sex. It was usually coupled with alcohol, having had realized that inebriation was a great crutch to cling onto the next morning when you hated yourself for your actions.

You weren’t exactly sure when the thought process behind it manifested but you had turned to nameless faces and their bodies to help make you feel desired as you couldn’t love yourself. Whenever friends would raise their concerns, you would brush them off with a clipped tone, claiming that you were merely having fun, oblivious to the fact that all your self-worth was stemming from how many people you could lure into bed with you.

Both reckless behaviors were meaningless attempts at filling a void you refused to acknowledge and if it weren’t for your parents eventually stepping in, there’s no telling just how bad things could have gotten.

You and Jungkook were similar in that aspect, you suppose. Both Jeon siblings having had their tendencies for self-loathing and self-destruction, only Jungkook ended up a corpse on your bathroom floor while you got to walk away without a scratch.

Sometimes, when your mind got particularly dark, you wondered why Jungkook was dead and not you. Why were you the one who had to remain alive, damned to hold up the crushing burden of being the living sibling?

With your brother dead, you had to stay alive— not just for your parents, but for Jungkook as well. If you were going to be chosen as the Jeon sibling that lived then you couldn’t go and destroy your life, not when Jungkook had lost his.

So you tried your best to clean up your act.

You cut off all ties to your old habits and old friends; it was lonely sometimes but you were sober and your parents were happy, and so were you for the most part. Denial became your coping mechanism and any sadness you felt towards your brother passing morphed into anger, forcing you to detach yourself from him altogether.

It was healthier than the other ways you had tried to cope but it was still just a temporary numbing solution, one which Taehyung had wiped away easily, which is why you had turned once again to alcohol and sex. Thankfully, Taehyung found you on the side of the road that night.

“Y/N?” Taehyung called out, watching the way your expression had darkened. You furrowed your eyebrows, eyes flickering up to meet his.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I can’t do this to you. Let’s stop.”

Taehyung frowned, “Do what to me?”

Taehyung looked so incredibly confused that you found yourself looking away, unable to face him.

“I know you care about me which is why we shouldn’t go any further than this.”

Taehyung felt his heart sink into his stomach. Was kissing you a mistake? It didn’t feel like one but you couldn’t even meet his eyes so he knew something was wrong.

You let your hands fall off his chest before continuing.

“I… I care about you. You mean a lot to me, probably more than you know, which is why I won’t risk you getting hung up on someone like me.”

He could see the way you had begun to shrink; you were standing in front of him like you were insufficient and frail when he knew you weren’t any of those things.

“Someone like you? What are you talking about?”

“I’m not the girl you think I am. I’m not the girl you knew when we were kids anymore. I’m bitter and angry and have got so much baggage– I’m not going to put you through carrying any of that. You deserve a lot better than that.” You explained, hating yourself for the way your voice was wavering.

Once again, you were crying in front of Taehyung and you couldn’t stand it.

“Y/N, c’mon—”

“I’m serious!” You cried, hands shaking. “I used to drink myself numb and I slept around with so many people— the majority of them whose faces I don’t even remember —and I’ve hurt and pushed away everyone who's ever cared about me and just— fuck, Blondie! I’m a fucking shitty person!”

“No, you’re not.” Taehyung said quietly, hand coming up to cup your cheek.

“I know you, Y/N. Maybe you’re not the girl who dances in her room or reads teen magazines anymore but you’re still the girl who wears yellow stockings and bakes me brownies just because she remembered I liked them.”

As his thumb ran over your wet cheek, you weren’t sure whether to laugh or cry so you did both, once again crumbling under his touch.

“You’re more than just a series of bad decisions. You’re hurting and you’re doing it alone when you shouldn’t have to. You’re a hell of a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for and,” Taehyung swallowed roughly, losing footing of his voice, “And you deserve better too, dammit. You deserve so much more.”

There were only a few things Taehyung couldn’t forgive himself for, and leaving you by yourself after Jungkook died was one of them. He knew what it felt like to sink back into the dark place he was in after his best friend’s death but he had his parents and his friends to pull him back out– it made his heart heavy to think that you had been drowning in that lonely limbo this whole time.

“You don’t have to be alone. You don’t have to do this on your own. You’re not made out of stone, Y/N, you’re human. It’s okay to rely on others and accept help and love and everything we think we're not worthy of.”

Taehyung could see the way his words were hitting your skin; he could see the way you flinched as if you couldn't believe them but the way your watery eyes held onto his told him that you wanted to.

“Don’t push me away.” He pleaded finally, voice firm but tender all the same.

You wish you could’ve told him straight up that you wouldn’t, but your mouth was void of any and all words as you answered him with a kiss, hoping for it to say everything you thought Taehyung deserved to hear.

The kisses grew more heated and emotions became intertwined and there was a small voice eating away at the back of your mind telling you that you didn’t deserve this, that you didn’t deserve him. Even as the two of you found yourself in Taehyung’s bedroom, laid out on his bed, the voice persisted, silenced only by the sound of Taehyung speaking suddenly.

“Is this okay? For me to kiss you like this?” Taehyung asked, breathing heavy as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip nervously.

You fought back the blush that wanted to make its way onto your skin, the question catching you off guard as there wasn’t any need for it in the first place. You wanted Taehyung to do far more than just kiss you. Taehyung had you pinned underneath him, your legs parted by his thigh as he hovered over you, and you were alight with an insatiable need for him.

Your fingers found his glasses; they were struggling to hold onto his face as he stared down at you. Gently, you took them off, chest tightening as Taehyung’s eyes widened at your action.

“Taehyung.” You cooed, eyes flickering to his lips. You wondered if their red color mirrored yours right now.

Taehyung wanted so badly to kiss you again but the last thing he wanted to do was to push things in a direction you weren’t comfortable with.

“Yeah?”

“Touch me, please.” You murmured, causing Taehyung’s heart – among other parts of him – to stir.

A small sound of surprised content escaped you as Taehyung’s mouth found your neck, wasting little time as he began to bruise the delicate skin there. He wasn’t being nearly as gentle as you imagined he would, taking your skin between his teeth before soothing over the bite with a soft flick of his tongue before moving to another spot.

His fingertips were running up and down your sides frustratingly; it was a side of Taehyung you had never seen and it excited you to no end, small whimpers and sighs falling from you.

Taehyung was in absolute bliss– he had the girl he had been in love with for years laid out underneath him, panting his name as he marking you as his, loving the way your hips were rutting up, not so subtly trying to grind against his thigh.

He felt it too, of course; the strain of his aching cock pressing against his pants becoming harder and harder to ignore, and before he could think to ask, he moved between your legs, urging your skirt up to your waist so that he could grind into you.

A low grunt left his mouth as he began to rock into you, your soft whines only edging him on. But he knew there were far too many layers separating the two of you.

“Why don’t… Why don’t you go ahead and take some clothes off?” Taehyung suggested, slightly caught up in the feeling of your legs tightening around his hips.

You let out a small huff, not because you didn’t like the idea but because he had stilled his motions. As lovely as the friction was, it wasn’t nearly enough to get you where you wanted. You sat back up on your elbows.

“Should I leave the yellow stockings on for nostalgia’s sake?” You joked dryly. You hadn’t meant it seriously, of course, you were hoping to elicit a laugh from Taehyung but to your surprise, his response was anything but humorous.

His palm came down onto your covered thigh, moving forward to bring his mouth to your ear.

“Unless you want a few new rips in them, I’d suggest you take them off as well.” He hummed darkly, his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

A grin found Taehyung’s face as he leaned back away from you, watching as your expression fell into one of surprise, clearly not expecting such a forward statement from him.

Flustered, you began to undress clumsily, struggling to do so as the feeling of Taehyung pressing kisses against your jaw was incredibly distracting.

Where the hell did this surge of confident from Taehyung come from and why the hell was it so hot?

The second you finally freed yourself from your garments, you threw a leg over his lap, forcing him back down onto the bed.

Your fingers found his shirt without so much as a second thought, undoing the buttons of his shirt as you began to trail hot kisses down his chest. A low sound emerged from Taehyung’s chest and if you had any shame whatsoever, you might have felt embarrassment as the sound caused your panties to dampen.

His skin was soft and you let your tongue trace the ridges of his abdomen. You imagined you might have stopped to press some more permanent marks on his skin if you didn’t have another destination in mind, hand slipping down further and further.

For the second time today, Taehyung wondered if dreaming; you were sat up on his lap in nothing but your panties, lips parted as you tried to catch your breath, hand rubbing over Taehyung’s clothed cock lightly.

Taehyung let out a groan, causing you to smirk.

“Poor, Blondie. Bet you’re dying to get out of these pants, huh?” You teased, applying more pressure to your touch.

“Fuck, Y/N. You really are such a tease.” Taehyung hissed, thrusting up to meet your touch.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You replied innocently, cocking your head one side to truly sell the act.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna give you five seconds to stop that little game you’re trying to play with me and lay back down on the bed.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I’m going to cum in my pants and, fuck, I’d really much rather cum inside of you.”

You paused your actions begrudgingly, realizing you also would rather him cum inside you. You crawled off him and laid back beside him as instructed.

“Good girl.” He praised, kissing one of your bare breasts, causing you to whine. “Why don’t you let me play with you now, hm?”

One of Taehyung’s hands was quick to make its way between your legs, wasting no time to drag this out any longer.

“Oh, fuck.” He hissed, middle fingering running up and down your clothed slit. Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, his actions earning him a sharp inhale of his name.

“Sweetheart, you’re so wet.” Taehyung cooed. “We only just started too.”

“D-Don’t tease me.” Your voiced hiccuped slightly as the tip of his finger found your clit, rubbing at the swollen pearl lightly. Taehyung laughed, pressing a peck against your bottom lip that was jutting out slightly.

You took advantage of the moment immediately, hand reaching out to slip into Taehyung’s hair so you could deepen the kiss. You could feel him smile into the kiss, clearly pleased with how desperate you were for him.

The feeling of one of Taehyung’s long fingers sinking into you caused you to grasp, pulling away from the kiss as his fingers ministrations began to occupy all your attention.

Taehyung admired you from his spot beside you, watching the way your face scrunched up and you threw your head back as one finger became two.

“You’re so pretty like this, baby.” He found himself purring into your ear, head too clouded with the sounds of your moans to hold himself back.

“God, I... fuck.” Was your intelligent response, hand clasped around his wrist as his motions began to quicken.

Your thighs were beginning to shake, the obscene sound of Taehyung’s fingers entering your wet pussy filling the room.

A particularly hard rub against your clit sent out a chirp of his name, pulling Taehyung away from your breasts, where he had temporarily fixed his attention.

“You need something?” He teased, flicking his tongue against your nipple frustratingly.

You let out a groan, sending Taehyung a glare as a sharp wave of pleasure ran through you, causing your spine to arch.

And just like that, his fingers were pulled off you, evoking a small cry of disappointment from your lips. The kiss that followed, however, was enough to silence your protest, Taehyung moving to rest in between your hips again, only this time, he fumbled to take off his jeans.

“I’m going to make love to you, sweet girl. Is that okay?” He asked as he freed himself of his garments.

Your eyes widened at the sight of his cock, swollen and red-tipped, and you nearly begged for him to fuck you right then and there.

You nodded eagerly, eyes still fixated on Taehyung’s newly revealed state. You bit down on your bottom lip, insides fluttering with desire as Taehyung adjusted himself, rubbing the length of his cock against your sopping center.

A small cry left your lips as he finally entered you and Taehyung knew he was absolutely ruined, wrecked by the way your warm, velvet walls wrapped around him.

“F-Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” Taehyung was absolutely beside himself as he began to rock into you, moaning as you took every inch of him, profanities spilling from your swollen lips.

You jolted as his thumb found your clit, clearly set on getting you to cum.

“That feel good?” He hummed, pressing a kiss to your collarbone cheekily.

Your eyes were shut, overwhelmed by the feeling of Taehyung filling you, bringing you closer and closer to your climax with every rock of his hips and fingers.

“So... ah, so good.” You whimpered, voice trembling as you tried to meet every one of Taehyung’s thrusts.

Taehyung was close to his own release, balls tightening as he relished in how well you took his cock and how pretty his name sounded falling off your tongue like that. You were so beautiful– your chest and neck glistening lightly with sweat, breathing labored as you entirely lost yourself in the sensations being sent your way.

“Taehyung, I–”

Your sentence was cut short as your orgasm washed over you, a broken whine leaving your lips. Taehyung hardly had time to admire the lovely way your body was shuddering in pleasure when his own orgasm hit him, your walls tightened around him as he coated your walls with hot spurts of cum.

Tangled sounds of pants and whimpers fell between the two of you as you both came down from your highs.

“You okay?” Taehyung spoke finally as he pulled out of you.

You let out a sigh at the feeling, suddenly empty. You offered a nod in response, not trust your voice to respond to him verbally. Taehyung laid down beside you, gesturing for you to come closer; the cold of his room had suddenly caught up with you both as you huddled into one another for warmth.

Your head found itself on Taehyung’s chest, listening to the way his breathing evened out with post-coital bliss.

His fingertips were running along the length of your bare arm as the two of you lay there, causing light goosebumps to pull at your skin.

“What are you thinking about?” Taehyung said suddenly, sensing the melancholy that lingered in the air.

You didn't respond immediately, taking a few moments to yourself before pulling yourself up to face Taehyung.

"I was thinking about my family and how they'd react if I told them about us." You admitted.

"My parents would be thrilled. Both of them. Dad has always seen you like a second son and if my mom were twenty years younger, she would've snatched you up herself."

Taehyung let out a contemplative hum, "And Jungkook?"

It was the question that was weighing on both your minds. There was a small prickling feeling of guilt there as if the two of you were doing something behind his back, even though he was gone.

"I'm not sure."

“I think Jungkook would kill me if he knew I slept with you.” Taehyung admitted honestly, his frows furrowing ever so slightly.

“Probably.” You nodded before pausing. “But he would’ve forgiven you.”

“You think?”

“Are you kidding? You were his favorite person, he never shut up about you.” You chuckled, laying back down beside him.

“You’re a good guy, Blondie. I think that’s why he liked you so much. Everything became so bad so quickly but you stayed good. You never left his side. You always had his best interests in mind, even when he didn’t deserve it.” You yawned, pulling the blanket up to your chin.

Suddenly, Taehyung’s expression fell into an unreadable one, the room’s atmosphere growing heavy as his aura suddenly darkened. Your eyes ran down his profile as he stared off across the room, clearly deep in thought.

“I knew.” He said finally, voice small.

“You knew what?”

“The drugs. I knew.” He clarified, turning his head towards you.

“I didn’t know exactly what he was using but I knew something was wrong. And I didn’t say anything. I hate myself every day for nothing saying something.” Taehyung confided solemnly.

You turned away towards him, silence fell over the two of you. You didn't know what to say– the idea that Taehyung wasn't this perfect, happy human completely throwing you off guard. Not once did you think to consider how Taehyung had dealt and continued to deal with the death of his best friend. You contemplated his words for a moment.

Shifting slightly, you moved further down the bed, letting your head rest on his chest once again.

“How do you live with yourself?”

Your question wasn’t malicious in any sense. No. It was pure, unadulterated curiosity that prompted it and Taehyung was felt a quiet feeling of relief in that fact that you hadn't dwelled on his confession any further than needed. You held no judgment in your tone, but rather a desire to understand, undoubtedly stemming from the need to replicate the answer for yourself.

“I learned to forgive myself.” He said before pausing.

“I learned to forgive him.” He added after a moment of silent contemplation.

You frowned, letting your eyelids fall shut.

"I can't. Not yet, at least." You confessed wistfully.

Taehyung let out a hum, "That's okay. I didn't know at first."

“So what did you do before you found yourself at that point?”

You could hear Taehyung's sigh through his chest, it was soft and reverberated lowly.

“I looked for the things that made me happy. The music, the people– you just gotta keep on keepin’ on. It'll start to hurt a little bit less every day until one day you'll wake up to find that the good outweighs the bad.”

"You're a good." You said suddenly, catching Taehyung by surprise.

"Huh?"

You lifted your head, turning it so that you could face him.

"The bad is heavy and it hurts but... you're definitely a good." You murmured gently. "You're my good, Blondie."

Taehyung didn't care that he was blushing or that you could probably feel the way his heart rate had spiked because, as you leaned over to kiss him, all he could find himself caring about was the fact that he was your good and that you were his too.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

"You're a sneaky little minx, you know that, right? I gave in that time but now I seriously have to go." Taehyung sighed, causing you to frown.

Taehyung had been taking a shower, on his way to get ready for his morning shift at Rose's when a certain someone slipping into his shower had extended his time spent in there tenfold, unable to resist your advances.

The two of you were in towels now; your fooling around in the shower now over.

"Nooo." You whined. "Stay."

You had pulled Taehyung into an embrace, your arms snaking around his waist as you propped up onto your toes and pressed kisses onto his collar bone.

The nature of the kisses seemed harmless, but with the way two of you had spent all night, and now morning, Taehyung knew that things would only escalate from here.

"As much as I'd love to make love to you all day, I'm needed at the record shop." He stated decidedly, causing you to pull your mouth away from his skin.

"Can you call in sick?" You moped childishly. Taehyung shook his head no, chuckling as he leaned over to place a chaste kiss against your mouth.

"Seven years, Blondie! We were robbed of seven years together. We deserve to be going at it like rabbits." You looked up at him through your lashes, a sour pout on your lips.

The blond boy let out an abrupt laugh as if he wasn't expecting those words to leave your mouth.

"So dramatic." He hummed teasingly.

Despite his words, the truth was he couldn't agree more and if it weren't his moral obligation to his job, then he would gladly spend the day with you in bed.

You tilted your head in contemplation, "Has it not been seven years since you first started liking me?"

You felt Taehyung physically stiffen against you, and it suddenly occurred to you that Taehyung was still under the impression that you had no idea about his childhood crush on you.

"You knew?!" Taehyung gaped, mouth falling ajar slightly.

You raised an eyebrow at him, "Of course I knew."

"Wha– How? For how long?" Taehyung pressed, voice rising in pitch. You tried your hardest to suppress your amused smile, enjoying the way he was growing increasingly flustered.

"Well... you trying to kiss me in Jungkook's room was a huge giveaway," You laughed, "but I think I figured it out when you talked about the purple streaks I put in my hair."

At your confession, Taehyung frowned, clearly not understanding. You pulled away from him, letting out a sigh as you accepted the fact that you weren't going to convince Taehyung not to go to work any time soon.

"You told me Jungkook liked my purple hair."

Taehyung paused for a moment, digesting your words. He nodded slowly; it was a lie he had told you in an attempt to comfort you. He should have figured it would come back to bite him in the ass.

"... Yeah?"

"I dyed my hair after he died." You revealed, leaning back against the bathroom sink.

Taehyung thought back to Jungkook's funeral, trying to make sense of where his memories had gotten muddled.

You were right, of course.

Your entire family was dressed in all black, as were you. But sprinkled throughout your hair were bright streaks of indigo, contrasting almost purposely against the dark and gloomy day. Taehyung remembered thinking it suited you; the color was just as vibrant as you were, even if you remained silent and solemn the entire time.

"I dyed it the night before Jungkook’s funeral actually. I couldn’t fall asleep so my mom went out with me to buy the supplies and she helped me do it. It was a nice distraction for both of us." You remembered, your expression slightly melancholic. "Jungkook never got to see my hair. But you did.”

Taehyung's cheeks grew pink. "Not everything I told you was a lie. Everything I said before that really was Jungkook."

You nodded, a small smile visible, "Thank you for that by the way. Whether it was you or Jungkook saying those things, it meant a lot."

The corner of Taehyung's lips curled upwards.

"What about when we were younger? Did you know I liked you back then?" He wondered innocently.

"Thinking back on it now, it was kind of obvious that you did but I think I was too concerned with feelings for you to notice." You admitted through a laugh.

"So, you did have a crush on me?" Taehyung asked, a wide smile of disbelief growing on his face. You nodded shyly.

“You think I bugged you guys for all those years because I enjoyed Jungkook telling me to fuck off?” You grinned lightly. “I did it because I wanted to spend time with you.”

"I still do." You reminded him of the conversation's previous topic, pointing a finger against his naked chest.

Taehyung was absolutely buzzing, his chest full of pride at knowing that you had liked him all this time. If there were a cloud higher than cloud nine then he'd be on it– Hell, he'd be king of it.

Suddenly, the gravity beneath your feet shifted as you were scooped up in Taehyung's arms, a loud squeal of surprise leaving you.

"What are you doing?!" You laughed, arms scrambling to better hold onto Taehyung in case he accidentally dropped you.

"Screw work, I'm about to make your teenage dreams are coming true, baby." He grinned cheesily as he laid you back down onto his bed, laughter all but breaking the kisses the two of you began to exchange.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Are you okay?” Taehyung spoke finally.

You bit down onto your lip, contemplating your next words carefully.

“I feel dumb.”

Taehyung let out a sigh, “Y/N…”

“Sorry, sorry. I just… I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” You replied, causing him to shrug.

“Just do whatever you’re comfortable with.”

Your hands found one another as you let those words sink in for a moment before nodding, ultimately sinking down onto your knees, the damp grass wetting the knees of your jeans.

“Hey, shrimp brain.” You began cautiously.

The headstone you spoke to was a light grey. Granite. There was a toss-up between granite and marble but you remembered that your parents had decided on granite.

“It’s, uh, me. I’m sorry we haven’t... talked." You frowned, still unfamiliar with the idea of talking to your dead brother's headstone.

It was actually your idea, but if it weren't for Taehyung's reassurance – and car – you would have never actually made it here.

Part of you feared that this was a mistake, some useless waste of time, but the larger part of you knew this was something you needed to do. Something you should have done a long time ago.

"I’m sorry for a lot of things actually.” You began, fingers intertwining themselves.

Laid out in front of the tombstone were a bunch of wilting flowers, undoubtedly placed there by your mother. They were sad to look at and you knew that in just a few days they would be replaced with new ones, but you couldn't help but feel Jungkook would've liked them this way. Taehyung thought so too, noting it complimented Jungkook's fashion sense as a teenager.

“Blondie and I are together now. And before you freak out, you should know that I’ve always liked him. I sometimes kinda feel like you already knew that but yeah. I hope you’re okay with that because he makes me really happy." You found yourself smiling before continuing. "I hope you're happy and blasting Jimi Hendrix... wherever you are.”

Suddenly, you felt a wave of emotion roll over you, taking you by surprise. It wasn't any kind of overwhelming anger or sadness like you usually felt, but just a slow melancholy, the kind that brought tears to your eyes but still let you hold onto your breathing.

“I know being sappy was never really our thing but I just wanted to say... that I miss you. And I love you. I’m sorry I never told you that while you were still around.”

A few moments of silence ticked by, filled only by the occasional chirp of a nearby bird, sat somewhere in one of the trees in the cemetery.

Taehyung watched as your frame began to shake slightly, placing a hand on your shoulder as he kneed down beside you.

“You’re okay. You’re doing great.” He cooed, his presence along helping to calm you down.

You sniffed, wiping your cheek dry with the back of your sleeve.

“But yeah. I hope you don’t mind if I swing by more often to bug you with some more one-sided conversations. Gotta uphold my title as the annoying little sister, after all.”

Taehyung let out a chuckle from beside you and that was all the reassurance you needed.

“I guess I’ll see ya later, shrimp brain.” You concluded finally, letting out a breath as you pushed yourself off your knees and back onto your feet.

Taehyung followed suit, eyes fixated on his best friend's gravestone.

"You really think he knew we liked each other?" He mused lightly.

"Going by what my mom said when I told her we were dating, literally everyone knew we liked each other." You laughed bitterly.

"Everyone but us, I guess." The blond boy laughed.

The sun had shifted its way behind a passing cloud then, and you couldn’t help but miss the warm feeling of it against your skin.

"What a bummer." You sighed, looking down at your brother's final resting place.

Taehyung tucked a hand into his pocket, watching the way you were standing beside him silently. He had a feeling that your words weren't just in regards to you and him anymore.

You heard the grass crunch as Taehyung moved, walking to stand behind you.

“It's not all bad."

You raised an eyebrow, opening your mouth to ask what he meant when you felt the weight on his chin rest against your shoulder.

"We found each other in the end." He said softly, causing your chest to tighten.

Because you too knew that this wasn't just about the two of you. Because although you had lost your brother, every day that you spent with Taehyung made me feel closer to your brother than you had ever been. The two of you would exchange memories of him, some of which you didn't even remember and some of which felt unimportant back then, but now brought you comfort. Sure, neither of you had a full picture of who Jungkook really was, but the pieces he had left behind finally made sense now that the two of you could hold them up beside one another.

And as Taehyung wrapped his arms around you, you let yourself sink back into his chest, for once not worried about feeling small or vulnerable.

"Yeah." You agreed, cheeks warm. "I guess we did."

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calumcest · 4 years

Text

masterlist

ok firstly please bear in mind most of these fics were written in 2014/15 when i was 16 so please do not judge their quality too harshly

ao3

[there are some fics on there that i haven’t put here, mainly chaptered fics but some others too]

drabbles (malum, lashton, cashton, mashton)

lashton

i can count on the sun to shine

It’s not been the easiest of days, but it’s not been the roughest either, so Ashton’s half-surprised when Luke crawls into his lap and curls up in it, looping his arms around Ashton’s neck and nosing into Ashton’s neck, breath warm and even against Ashton’s skin.

my beating heart belongs to you

“God, you’re all sweaty,” Michael adds, and Ashton snorts because that is fucking rich coming from the guy whose sweat has disintegrated two shirts so far this tour. “That’s how Luke likes me,” Ashton fires back, and Calum pulls a face whilst Michael laughs. “What’s how I like you?” Luke asks, coming up behind Ashton and wrapping his arms around him, resting his chin on Ashton’s head.

young and in love (that should be enough)

“Ashton.” Luke draws out the second syllable, pouting to add effect to his words. “Lukey,” Ashton says, stringing out the second syllable too in a softly mocking manner. “What do you want?” “A cuddle,” Luke announces, “from my favourite boyfriend.”

say you’ll never change

@Luke5SOS: It feels like we’re ready to crack these days you & I

it feels like we’re ready to crack these days, you & i [extended version of above fic]

It’s not really that pathetic that Ashton’s got tweet and text notifications on for Luke. Not really.

we gamble with desire

“Guys,” Michael says, making his way into the back lounge. “Have you heard of fanfiction?”

rules of the band

In retrospect, it’s kind of Ashton’s fault that it all starts. He’d eaten the last of the Vegemite, something he knows Michael and Calum feel very strongly about, and it had resulted in a sheet of paper pinned to the fridge by a frog magnet that had ‘Rules of the Band’ scrawled in Calum’s handwriting at the top. Rules of the Band

NOBODY WILL EAT THE LAST OF THE VEGEMITE!!!

soulmates

“Do you believe in soulmates?”

my friends are a different breed

“What’s happening?” Calum says, walking out into the living room. “Luke and Ashton weren’t kissing,” Michael informs him. Calum nods. “We weren’t,” Ashton says in what he hopes is a believable tone.

i’ve got a lot of friends who are stars

The city’s fucking beautiful at night.

dreams only last for a night

Luke prefers it when Ashton’s asleep.

happy father’s day dad :-)

@Calum5SOS: @Ashton5SOS happy Father’s Day dad :-)

my friends are everything

CH: Who’s eaten the last of the fucking vegemite

AI: wtf that was like rule number 1

my new comfort zone

It’s when it starts getting to the tense, anticipatory bit of the film where the gang of actual idiots are about to enter the house which Luke’s ninety-nine percent sure has a murderer in it, that’s when Luke whimpers and turns away from the screen, burying his face in the crook of Ashton’s neck.

as the night gets older of you i grow fonder

Luke’s eight when Ashton moves in next door. (based on the video for you belong with me)

coffee shop soundtrack

“Mind if I sit here?” the guy asks, and there’s a kind of apologetic hint to his tone. “Everywhere else is full.” Full? The coffee shop's never full- Oh. Apart from today, apparently. Every single seat is taken. “Oh, Luke says. “Uh. Sure.“

taking the long way home

“May we have your attention for flight BA8227,” the tinny voice of the announcement says, and Ashton’s stomach sinks. They never announce anything he wants to hear; there’s never any we’ve upgraded hardworking and broke session drummer Ashton Irwin to first class, he’s also been given unlimited air miles and a refund on his overpriced tuna melt. “We are sorry to announce that this flight is delayed by approximately seven hours. This is due to unforeseen adverse weather conditions. I repeat-”

if these walls could talk (they’ve seen way too many things)

The announcement comes late, at eight p.m., interrupting radio and TV broadcasts and flashing up on phone screens. Due to the current pandemic, the state is now on mandatory lockdown for three weeks. All citizens have until midnight to return to their places of residence. Those outside after midnight will be subject to severe penalties. Further information to follow. “You have to leave,” Ashton says. “You have to go.” Luke blinks. “They’re locking down the state.”

as he faced the sun he cast no shadow

Ashton doesn’t really realise he’s fallen out of love until it’s happened.

you and i were fireworks that went off too soon (soulmate au)

chapter one ~ chapter two ~ chapter three ~ chapter four ~ chapter five ~ chapter six ~ chapter seven

The tattoos appear one Wednesday night. What’s yours?” Michael demands, sounding beside himself with excitement. Luke frowns. “What’s my what?” “Your tattoo.”

fight so dirty but your love’s so sweet

Luke hates a good ninety-five percent of his job. A solid thirty percent of that comes from the fact that he works as a receptionist at a hotel, which he thinks is possibly the most thankless job humanity could possibly have created. A further ten comes from the fact that his desk is right next to the kitchen, meaning mouth-watering smells are constantly wafting under his nose, and Luke’s not allowed to eat on shift. Fifty-five percent of it, though, is Ashton.

there’s no time for running away now

It’s three a.m., and Ashton’s awake. On the surface, that might not appear to be a problem. And ordinarily, it wouldn’t be - ordinarily, Ashton would either roll over groggily, will sleep to come with every fibre of his being and maybe a quick prayer or two, or read something mind-numbingly boring like his urgent work emails to send him back to sleep. This, however, isn’t the most ordinary situation. Ashton is awake because of Luke.

-------

malum

make me a promise here tonight

“Calum,” Michael says, walking into the bunk area and stopping in front of Calum’s bunk. “Cal.” “What?” Calum asks, not looking up from his phone. “I think we should get married.”

we know this is the way it’s supposed to be

Calum’s always the first person Michael rings in an emergency. Like right now, for example. Right now’s an emergency. “What the fuck do you want, Clifford?” Calum groans, voice tinny through the shitty phone line, but he’s picked up after the first ring so Michael knows he doesn’t mean it. “I need help,” Michael says, trying to stop the phone from slipping down his chest from where it’s pressed between his shoulder and his ear. “Green, blue, or black?“

the first time i’ve seen love (and the last i’ll ever need)

“Tell me a story.” The words are whispered into the fabric of Calum’s shirt, and Calum’s arms tighten around Michael as he hums in response. It’s familiar, the situation, because it’s what Michael always asks for when he’s tired, scared, lonely, or just wants to hear Calum’s voice.

it should be criminal that you could be mine

He can’t help but get a little jealous when Ashton and Luke start properly dating, though. He can’t help but get jealous of the way Ashton’s always taking Luke out for dinner, always holding his hand, always buying him presents, always making these romantic gestures that Michael’s never had from Calum. (or calum’s version of a dinner date)

it always will be you (wherever you are)

It started off as something kind of unnecessary. Calum already had a Twitter account, and he wasn’t someone who was afraid to speak his mind. If he had something to say, he’d say it on his public account. He’d only made the account for when he was in a bit of a shitty mood and wanted to vent or when he had an inappropriate joke that only Michael would find funny.

falling asleep on a stranger

As it is, his bus is running late today and Calum had run all the way to the bus stop from his house (a good two minutes of exercise, at least, which means he’s breathless and almost breaking a sweat by the time he reaches the bus stop) because he’d thought he was late. When he realises, however, that he could have had an extra ten minutes and actually eaten some breakfast, he groans, lets his eyes flutter shut and mutters “fuck me.” “Excuse me?” a surprised voice says, and Calum opens his eyes so fast he thinks he might have accidentally blinded himself. Standing to his left, an amused look on his face, is a boy with fluffy-looking blue hair (blue).

this could be the start of something new

He pushes past throngs of tired-looking businessmen to get into the last carriage, looking around for some seats. He’s not the only one who’s had that idea, clearly, as the last carriage is nigh-on full and Calum has the choice of two seats - one next to a balding man who’s eating what looks to be a tuna sandwich (Calum balks at the very idea) and a tattooed-up-to-hell punk kid with a shock of light pink hair in a suit, jacket on his lap. Calum goes for the latter.

you’re already the voice inside my head

“Michael didn’t say anything, mate,” Luke says, confused. “Yes, he did,” Calum says, exasperated. “I…no, I didn’t,” Michael says slowly. “What the fuck, Mike?” Calum says, perplexed. “I didn’t say it, Cal…I thought it.”

i want to teach you a lesson (in the worst kind of way)

“Who’s that, sir?” Lily asks, jabbing at the window. “The new PE teacher,” Michael says. “He’s cute,” Sarah says, and a couple of the girls nod vigorously. “He’s also twice your age,” Michael says. “Go on, off to your practice rooms.” The girls groan, but one by one pull themselves away from the window and start to wander off. Michael stays by the window, one eye on the girls to make sure they actually go where they’re supposed to and one eye on the new PE teacher, who’s dividing the class up into groups and handing out footballs. He is kind of hot, Michael supposes, if you’re into muscular guys who are clearly good at sports. Which Michael most definitely is.

dancing with the demons (holy spirit, holy spirit)

“You’re kind of a shitty demon,” he tells Calum, who scowls. “Fuck you,” he says. “You’re kind of a shitty angel.” “Oh, dude, I know,” Michael agrees.

only you (and you can hear me)

“Uh,” Calum says, looking out into the crowd, and Michael follows his gaze, trying to find what Calum’s staring at. “I’m going to go to the teepee with Heather.” Michael’s stomach sinks. “Really?” he asks, before he can stop himself, looking over at Calum. “Yeah,” Calum says, turning to look at Michael, and Michael whips back around before Calum can see the look of please don’t written all over his face. “Alright.” (tiny dancer scene from rocketman but happy)

i took a walk with my fame down memory lane (i never did find my way back)

chapter one ~ chapter two ~ chapter three ~ chapter four ~ chapter five ~ chapter six

“Fucking shite,” Liam says, over the sound of the crowd’s growing murmurs. “Would’ve rather watched City fucking lose.” They all know he’s lying. Liam’d probably rather cut off his limbs one at a time than sit at home to watch City get thrashed. It reminds Calum where he is, though, as he takes a sip of his beer with slightly shaky hands. He’s in fucking Manchester, in a dingy bar with two of the biggest pricks he’s ever met in his life, watching shitty bands play mediocre songs to avoid having to watch his football team get massacred by Everton. It grounds him, shakes him out of it, makes him remember that he’s here, in England, not in Sydney, and he’s twenty, not seventeen. That was then, and this is now. But for a moment - just for a few seconds - he could have sworn that then and now were the same thing. Just for one moment, he could have sworn he’d seen Michael Clifford. - or: calum's in oasis and michael's in blur and it's the height of the 1990s britpop war

couldn’t make it more obvious could you (be any more obvious?)

“D’you think he was being serious?” he asks Ashton, who’s already engrossed in his phone again. “Hm?” Ashton says, without looking up. “‘Bout what?” “Jack.” That makes Ashton look up, brow furrowed. “What about him?” Calum hesitates. “Y’know,” he says, a little uncomfortably. Ashton cocks his head, raising his eyebrows in an I don’t know sort of way. “About them. Sleeping together.” “Oh,” Ashton says, shrugs, and turns back to his phone. “Yeah, obviously.”

love would burn this city down for you

There’s something so comforting about the city. Calum remembers the first time he’d got it, that rush of everything and nothing and beauty and reverence as he’d stared out at the brightly-lit scene before him, overwhelmed and trying his best to drink it all in. Fuck me, he’d thought, a delicious numbness licking at his nerves. I’m fucking irrelevant. (It was the first time he’d ever known peace.)

——-

cashton

‘cause all of the stars are fading away (just try not to worry you’ll see them someday)

Growing up isn’t easy. Nobody ever told him it would be. You’ll get hurt, his mum would say, eyes big and sad, and he’d shrug and say that’s life, not really understanding what she meant because he was yet to spend three nights in a row staring up at his ceiling, drunk and high and so miserable it somehow felt like everything and nothing at the same time. It’ll be difficult, his manager had warned, when they got their first tour with One Direction, and Ashton had shrugged and said isn’t everything?, not realising that what ‘difficult’ meant was sacrifice; his sleep, his home, his self, everything torn out at the roots and tossed aside for him to gather back into his arms again. The hardest part of growing up, though, isn’t when things happen to him, when someone breaks up with him or wakes him up two hours after he’s gone to bed or puts him on another plane six hours after he’s just got off one. The hardest part of growing up is when he looks around him and realises I’m not happy.

#ignore this post #also im gonna have to put up posts of the ones that i havent posted on tumblr yet soon #cos rn half of them are just linked to my ao3 #but im gonna space it out bc its annoying #and also i'm going to be very discerning #bc some of them are...to put it politely...RUBBISH #and when i say some of them i mean every single one of them #being proud of things you've written? could never be me

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lightwoodsmagic · 5 years

Note

Hi! So I agree Liam is queer, and the pink🔺in his video compels me not to ignore it. I saw one of your Ziam posts making its rounds after the SIU video, so I thought you were the person to ask. I only joined the fandom after Zayn left, and I’ve always had a hard time finding info on why and how that played out at the time (nobody seems to agree). Could you elaborate (or link to previous posts) on why you think Ziam is still a thing, and how they are telling us? Thanks for your insight so far!

Hi anon!

Thank you so much for thinking of me! I’m sorry it’s taken me a little while to answer, but it took me a bit to gather all the info I wanted (while I should’ve been working oop).

Okay, please know that this post is gonna be loooooong, so I’ve popped it under the cut.

You’re right about nobody agreeing on Zayn leaving the band, and it makes sense that people have differing views. It’s such a complicated thing; there was a lot happening at the time.

I’m going to start by saying there’s a brilliant masterpost about Zayn leaving here. It’s incredibly detailed, talks about pretty much every aspect of it, and there’s so much to look into. It’s also wonderful to demonstrate how much the boys and Zayn still hinted at things and loved each other, like Harry using Zayn’s mic one night, Liam talking about him fondly in interviews, Niall still calling him by his nickname, and Louis wearing his clothes.

It’s a long read, but incredibly worth it, as it this stunting timeline.

Everyone is absolutely entitled to their opinion, so I’ll just give you mine. I’m gonna keep it (kind of) short though. A lot of what I’m about to say can be found in the masterposts I’ve linked above.

I believe that Zayn leaving was out of his control, and was never completely his decision. I believe that he was set to return, but for some reason, the plan changed. Mind of Mine was apparently written before he left, and while I think he would’ve been working on solo music before he left (and that all of them were to some extent), to tease an album right after the announcement that he left makes no sense. A contract like the one that 1D had/has with Syco would cost an obscene amount of money to get out of, and Zayn’s net worth didn’t change at all. They made it seem so simple in the very few interviews with Zayn afterwards, saying he just called his security, got on a plane, and left. I think Zayn struggled a lot with everything, they all did, but I don’t think he could’ve just left. There were articles put out about his new album that mentioned Simco and everything, but when people pointed out that it didn’t make sense with the narrative that Simon felt ‘betrayed’, the references were removed straight away.

There’s also a very solid theory that MoM was counted as One Direction’s sixth and final contracted album, and it really stands up. Check it out!

Look. There’s a lot to unpack with the whole situation, and I’ve hardly touched on it at all, but I really do encourage you to look into it with everything I’ve linked above 💞

Okay, now onto the second part of your ask!

Ziam. My loooovveesss.

I’m going to start by saying that there’s a lot of ways that Liam and Zayn have hinted that they’re still together, and honestly? The boys ain’t even subtle about it. I’ll start by talking about heaps of ways they’ve done that since Zayn left!

Alright, let’s start with the fact that they WILL NOT STOP LIKING, REBLOGGING, AND RETWEETING POSTS FROM ZIAM ACCOUNTS.

(x) (x)

These aren’t subtle Ziam accounts, and it’s not just these examples. This also isn’t just something in the past; that bottom right one references Stack It Up.

They’ve also both reposted fanart from a well known Ziam where each drawing referenced the other one.

(x)

The Zayn art says ‘Love Payne’ on the beanie. Well then.

And the Liam one? That he posted on his personal insta? The artist added the ‘love’ tattoo from Zayn’s hand onto Liam’s. It’s obvious, and it’s not like Liam wouldn’t have noticed that suddenly there was a new tattoo added ON HIS OWN HAND.

Not very subtle, hey.

It’s also not the only shady social media activity related to the boys 👀

There was the time that Liam explained why he’d written ‘personally’ twice in a thank you post in his insta story to Bvlgari.

But he hadn’t. What had happened was that Twitter account @TheZiamNews had made a small mistake, and had actually written it twice. The only explanation was that Liam saw it on a Ziam update page VERY quickly, thought he had made the original mistake, and then explained. Interesting that Liam keeps up to date with them.

There was also the time Liam blocked an account for talking absolute shit about Zayn, or when Herbie Critchlow (a producer from Icarus Falls) retweeted a tweet about Common being about Ziam. Also can’t forget Brandon Colbein posting on insta about some songs he’d written, and somehow there was one for Zayn and one for Liam.

Oh, and when Liam’s friend Andy (who seems to…split the fandom, but alas) posted a video of him listening to Icarus Falls, or every single mirroring insta post Liam and Zayn can’t seem to help making.

And their eyebrow slits! 😊 this goes allllll the way back to One Direction days.

(x)

Now, this is a constant, recurring thing for them over the years.

It’s usually at the same time, and it usually signifies something.

Zayn went ALL OUT one day, just after Z*gi ‘broke up’, and put a slit in his eyebrow, but it wasn’t a normal one. It was in the shape of an L. That fucking sap. Not to be outdone though, Liam popped a lil’ Z in the graphics for his show last year in Japan.

SAPS, THE BOTH OF THEM.

Now, jewellery.

OOOOOF are we in for it now. You’re probably regretting this ask already.

Cartier.

Say that single word around someone who believes in Ziam and you’ve lost them forever.

Back in 2015 (so yes, a while ago but bear with me) during the OTRA tour, Zayn suddenly started wearing a gold Cartier bracelet. It was interesting because Zayn didn’t wear bracelets at the time. It was particularly interesting because Liam had been seen earlier that day with jewellery bags buying a present. Curious.

Or obvious.

Either or.

A similar thing happened when Zayn attended the ‘Straight Outta Compton’ premiere, one of his first appearances after he left the band. He was wearing a Hublot watch, which was also interesting because Zayn didn’t wear watches either.

But GUESS WHERE LIAM HAD BEEN 2 DAYS BEFORE THE PREMIERE?

You’re damn right, anon. It was Hublot.

Now, the Cartier love bracelet.

This picture was posted when Liam was getting ready for the Brits in 2017. For those that don’t know, the Cartier love bracelet has little screws, and can only be undone with a little gold screwdriver that comes with it.

Liam wore it everywhere that year, and so often. It didn’t make sense for it to be ‘given to him by Ch*ryl’, because they would’ve used every opportunity to show that damn screwdriver.

But they didn’t, because she didn’t have it. Zayn did.

There’s also the other matching bracelets they’ve worn by Alexander McQueen.

And also the other time Zayn wore Cartier in his film clip, or the fact that Zayn started wearing a ring on his right ring finger that was sold and marketed by Cartier AS A WEDDING RING.

They also share watches if Zayn decides to wear one, because they’re cute like that.

Now, they also share clothes.

So many clothes, ohmygod.

(x)

A prime example of this actually happened just last year! TWICE! IN NYC WHEN LIAM WAS THERE (obviously to see his husband). Both times, Liam was out and about wearing two of Zayn’s jackets.

It’s also absolutely not a coincidence that when Zayn was staying at G*gi’s apartment on Bond Street, Liam stayed at a hotel a few minutes away a number of times, but when Zayn moved to Soho, Liam suddenly switched hotels to one in Soho, a few minutes away from Zayn’s new place. Just can’t stay away from an old band mate you hardly talk to, hey.

Also can’t ignore Liam wearing numerous Kooples shirts during the time Zayn was doing promotional stuff for them. Husbands givin’ gifts.

NYC isn’t the only city that relates to Ziam though!

Ahhhhhhhh. Ziami. What a time, what a time, what a time (for you and I).

Anyway.

At the start of last year, Liam and Zayn were both in Miami at the same time filming music videos for Let Me and Familiar respectively, arriving either at the same time or a day apart. It was at a time when Zayn was all over his socials, posting poems and selfies and generally being his relaxed, gorgeous self, which wasn’t incredibly common for a while.

People were convinced they could hear Zayn in one of Liam’s insta stories, talking in the background just before Liam realises and raises his voice. It’s definitely not firm though, and Liam has someone in his team with a similar accent, but I’ve linked it so you can judge for yourself! Regardless, we knew they were both there, but it was a fun lil’ talking point!

Anyway, according to people who live in the area and know the coastline, they were in the same area at the same time, and we also knew that Liam wasn’t with Ch*ryl because she was back in the UK. Now, Liam posted an Instagram story the next morning half naked in bed, his 4 tattoo (we’ll get to that) and roses on full display, and saying he’d wrecked his voice.

Well then.

He also posted this.

It was a video, but it was Liam, in his room ‘alone’ with two desserts for breakfast at a time when we knew Zayn was there and no one else was, and he suddenly had no voice.

Okay okay, we get it.

They also consistently reference the number 25, and honestly, no one knows why the fuck.

Just casually on Liam’s jackets and shoes, Zayn’s shoes and a shirt that was sold (even the red and yellow, ffs Zayn), and also Zayn’s NECK, which he got in 2018. There was also chevrons on a collection for Zayn, just like Liam’s tattoos.

Speaking of tattoos Zayn got in 2018.

That big, red wolf on his chest just up there?

One of the biggest Ziam things to ever happen.

Red was Liam’s mic colour in 1D, everything they fucking do seems to be related to red, and Liam’s nickname is Wolfie because he’s from Wolverhampton.

It’s a red wolf, directly on his chest, and it’s 100% for Liam. It’s not the only red wolf tattoo Zayn has; he also has one on his leg with feathers, just like Liam’s feather tattoo.

The media often talk about the eyes Zayn has underneath that, and that they’re for G*gi, but the eyes underneath are so much lighter than the surrounding ink, the shape fits easily, and to me, it seems clear they’ve been done in a way that they can easily be inked over. It was designed for a cover up, and hopefully it’s coming. Zayn also has Liam’s name literally inked into his skin.

They also have coordinating hand tattoos. The mandala on Zayn’s hand and the roses on Liam’s are explained brilliantly in this post. The two of these together mean ‘Symbol of Eternity’. Fucking hell.

The three roses on Liam’s hand also translates to ‘I love you’. FUUUCCCKKKKKKK.

Liam also wore a ring for a while, until he was forced to take it off, but then he rebelled anyway, and got this.

It’s important because not only is it on his wedding finger, it’s also what he said about it, and when he got it.

Now, not only is 4 as an angel number about changing the only things that you can in a situation, but Liam directly said that’s what it was. He can’t wear a wedding ring, so he did the next best thing.

It also came when Liam and Ch*ryl became ‘official’, and when he’d already quashed marriage twice in an interview. Interesting choice, then. He also spoke of the 4 and a ring forming a halo, but still somehow shut down marriage talk?

…….okay then.

Some incredibly brilliant people pointed out that it also came just before Valentine’s Day.

And just before he started wearing the Cartier bracelet from earlier.

There’s also the blatant references to a gorgeous, loving relationship throughout Icarus Falls, especially in Common and There You Are. There You Are was pushed as a Z*gi song, but people realised it was impossible when they found old pictures of the name of the song on his original plan for Mind of Mine, and realised it just hadn’t made that album. It doesn’t fit their timeline at all, but it does fit Ziam.

We don’t see Zayn very much at the moment, and I’m glad that he’s taking his time just doing what he’s doing! It does mean that we hardly see them interact or reference each other much, but I have absolutely no reason to believe they’ve broken up. The fact that they’re both still going through PR relationship bullshit, and the timing of Liam getting a ‘girlfriend’ right now instead of just rumours is very interesting to me, because Z*gi officially finished again not that long ago. When one is ‘single’, the other can’t be, it seems.

This isn’t even everything, anon. They’re not subtle; Zayn just isn’t in the public eye as much.

Everything they do screams love, devotion, and commitment to each other.

And it’s fucking gorgeous.

#ziam #zayn leaving #ziam tattoos #ziam coincidences #zayn malik #liam payne #ziam evidence #masterpost

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navollidiot · 4 years

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i know there is and will continue to be a lot of controversy about the hate crime scene, so if you don’t want to read this post because you won’t agree with me criticizing it, then don’t read it, don’t clown on it, just don’t interact and move on with your day, i’m not taking names and hunting people down for their opinions especially when i do not personally know most of you.

obligatory statement: i’m not cis, not het, not white. do not be a bigot on this post :)

i remember very clearly the night that clip dropped + literally spending the next 2 or 3 days scrolling through the tag to read every single post in there to gather all of the opinions that i could find, everything from people who had been following the season from the very first second of the first episode, to people who were only casual viewers, who had not offered commentary before that point and only came out to share their opinions after the enormous shock wave that clip generated throughout the fandom. i don’t even think that sander running out of the hotel in episode 8 caused nearly as much of an uproar, mostly because the majority of us knew that was coming (though i do remember the outrage that we didn’t see robbe find him until it was past midnight, which is also completely understandable).

over those next few days and the following weeks, i saw the full spectrum of opinions continue to expand as more and more people gradually processed what they had seen and began to come to their own conclusions about it, especially those, like mine, with many layers of conflicting emotions. some even shared their own stories that were deeply personal and brave and heart-wrenching and hope-giving. what was pretty universal, however, was that no one saw the hate crime coming. it wasn’t in og, it hasn’t been done in any other remake, there was no hint or warning whatsoever that it was imminent. i know part of that is probably the production thinking that was an appropriate way to show how something like that can unfold in real life. do i agree with how that decision was made? ultimately, no. i’m sure that plenty of you also share that opinion to some extent. i’m sure that many of you also excuse, turn a blind eye to, or even defend the hate crime’s necessity and importance. i’ve said before that it’s not a black-and-white situation and i continue to stand by that. i also stand by the opinion that the writers handled the execution poorly even if they had good intentions. intention ≠ impact. there should have been a trigger warning. there should have been a better and more assertive resolution in the following episodes, like there was for zoë’s season (which was very well done and makes me confused why they didn’t give robbe the same treatment but i digress)

“but iT’S REALISTIC—” yes, it’s realistic that gay people experience violence for being gay. no one is denying that this stuff happens. but the aftermath of the incident, which robbe discussed only briefly twice with milan (and senne, but robbe never told him the full truth of what happened) and then was not addressed further, even when it was at some points clearly mirroring zoë’s struggle with testifying against viktor? that was not realistic. i recognize the very real possibility that they are going to drag the assault into s4 to show how robbe’s storyline impacts however they’ve written yasmina’s arc, but whatever they have planned for her honestly terrifies me to no end because we have never had an adequate sana season that does the muslim main justice. i am including og in this, for those of you who have not seen it. i’m sure that many of you who have seen skamfr s4 and druck s4 agree with me. it goes without saying that i believe they should have addressed the assault before robbe’s season actually ended in order to minimize the amount of interference that he would cause in yasmina’s season. don’t mistake this as me hating on robbe; he is one of my favorite isaks hands down. i can simultaneously love his character and hate what the writers did with him.

“but wiLLEM SAID—” first of all, if you yourself are straight and you are pulling willem’s words from the article to defend your opinion, i want you to step back from the situation and examine the details a little further. willem herbots, for all the speculation that has gone on, has now stated outright with no ambiguity that he is straight. i do not deny his talent as an actor; anyone who follows and reads my tags knows that i have many times before praised his skill in portraying robbe as intimately as he did in s3. but the hard pill to swallow for a lot of you is that by being straight, he lacks the inherent nuance that only personal experiences and struggles with sexual identity can bring to a character whose arc literally revolves around internalized homophobia and coming out. no amount of research can help him understand robbe’s character the way a gay actor would. and to be clear, this is not a moral condemnation against him; i’m not blaming willem for being straight, which is a wild thing to have to state lmao but you never know with tumblr. i do harbor the same sort of apprehension that i harbor towards any straight actor who plays gay roles regardless of their reasoning behind it (most of it falls somewhere along the lines of “i wanted to challenge myself” which honestly is such bullshit to me). but, to my knowledge, we have never had a single male isak who was played by an actor who is lgbt+ irl (i’m not counting skamesp because lucas doesn’t fit the original mold since he’s both isak and eskild, sorry if you have a problem with that), so i’m not exactly surprised that wtfock hasn’t broken that mold. saying all that, i do think he is incredibly sensitive and compassionate for his age and amount of experience, and it is rare to see someone answer questions with the kind of sincerity that comes through even in what appears to me is a fluff piece that is meant to please readers rather than present the most objective truths.

i will link a post here that pretty succinctly sums up my view on what willem stated about the hate crime and about how this interview happened in the first place, but something that i did notice that no one afaik has talked about: notice how willem uses I-statements to answer literally every single question in the interview up until he’s asked about the assault, where he slips almost too obviously into the royal “we” that is often characteristic of pre-fabricated answers: “The only moment we really showed... but we really wanted to show the harsh reality of being out... it’s not something we wanted to ignore in WtFOCK.” in the same paragraph, he uses “we” 3 times, where at no point before he had done so. of course, it’s possible that he did say it at other points and those sentences simply didn’t make the final cut for the article, but i still think it’s pretty telling that all of his other answers are so grounded in his personal, individual thoughts and experiences, but that specific response is so stilted and formal it’s almost awkward. it’s very likely that he was regurgitating an answer that was fed to him from higher up, precisely because the production knew from fan responses that it would come up in any self-respecting interviewer’s questions. these are very basic PR procedures within the industry; willem, at the end of the day, is a paid actor on a show that is still in production and is bound very tightly by his contract. do not expect at any point that what he states about wtfock is fully his own opinion, as whatever he says will reflect on the show’s reputation. this is also, more importantly, why you cannot automatically associate the words and actions of a production with the words and actions of its actors; i seriously doubt that willem h or any of the other cast members personally agree with everything the show has done, but i can tell you with absolute certainty that they are contract-bound to not share their full opinions while the show is still in production. he nor any of the other actors wouldn’t be allowed to criticize writing decisions even if they wanted to. finally, please note that i am in no way trying to lessen the impact of willem answering this question in this way, fabricated or not; i am only trying to present all the facts as objectively as i can because i’ve seen 50 posts today worshipping him for giving answers that likely did not come from his own actual brain. i am asking for a little of the same objectivity in return from you all.

finishing on a personal-ish sidenote: but i have never been more aware than in this moment how completely at odds the druck and wtfock fandoms are, like i knew during the run of robbe’s season, from some replies i was getting on posts and anons in my inbox, that it seems impossible to some people that people can like (and criticize) both shows. but now in the wake of this article, it really goes to show that both sides are ready at a moment’s notice to fight each other over matters that do not need to be fought about. we can all just talk through things and try to see each other’s perspectives and, sometimes, yes, agree to disagree. for a show that preaches “everything is love” left and right, certain people really do not seem to take that message to heart. just to be clear, im not saying that you should lie down and take people’s bullshit, but i am saying that we should hear each other out more instead of jumping to conclusions based on thirdhand information.

in conclusion: no show/film/book/other form of media is perfect and we should be allowed to bring attention to their problematic aspects without being accused of blindly hating on the aforementioned medium overall.

tl;dr criticism ≠ hate, take what willem said with a grain of salt, the assault scene is not black and white, im fuckin exhausted

#wtfock #wtfock cast #willem herbots #i was gonna put this under a read more but i need yall to read this whole thing lmao #also if there are weird mistakes or jumps it's bc i jumped around from bullet to bullet writing this and only read through it once #there are also things that i did not include here bc i thought they would be called ~drastic~ but if u wanna dm me or something #trust me i have More Opinions

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dvp95 · 4 years

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quiet on widow’s peak (4)

pairing: dan howell/phil lester, pj liguori/sophie newton/chris kendall rating: teen & up tags: paranormal investigator, mystery, online friendship, slow burn, strangers to lovers, nonbinary character, trans character, background poly, phil does some buzzfeed unsolved shit and dan is a fan word count: 3.9k (this chapter), 13.5k (total) summary: Phil’s got a list of paranormal experiences a mile long that he likes to share with the world. Abandoned buildings, cemeteries, and ghost stories have always called his name, and a particular fan of his has a really, really good ghost story.

read this chapter on ao3 or here!

Phil did not invite Chris and Sophie to come to Rossendale with him. Not because he doesn't like spending time with them, but because he wouldn't know how to explain a situation to his parents that he doesn't even understand himself. To his knowledge, PJ also did not invite them.

"Change it," Chris whines from the backseat. He'd lost the scuffle against Phil to claim the front, and he's been complaining about Phil's music choices for half the trip so far in retaliation.

"You like McFly," Phil huffs, continuing his search for an album that won't elicit a loud sigh from behind him.

"That's fucking slander, is what that is. You hear that, PJ?"

"Oh, I hear you both," PJ says, flat. "Loud and clear."

They've only been driving for probably forty minutes and PJ already looks like he wants to kick them all out of his car. Phil doesn't exactly blame him, although he resents being lumped in with Chris in the 'annoying background noise' category.

He has no idea how they've managed to invite themselves along, but Phil was too polite and PJ was too smitten to tell them off when they came out to the car with their bags.

So, this is a group activity now. Phil's parents had been thrilled to hear it when he texted them the updated situation - they're taking it as a sign that Phil has a motley crew of good friends again, like he'd had as a kid and again in uni. He supposes that they're not wrong, exactly, but he's definitely anxious about introducing them to Chris.

"I like this song," Sophie says, mild, and Chris closes his mouth.

"Fine, this one is alright," he says begrudgingly. Phil glances at them in the rearview - Sophie is patting Chris' knee and giving him the sort of smile that always makes Phil feel like he shouldn't be present. He looks back down at his phone so he doesn't have to sit with that feeling too long.

PJ turns up the volume, probably to curb any more bickering before he has to toss them all out of his car, and Phil tries to just lose himself in the music for a little bit.

His friends sing along at varying levels of obnoxiousness and Phil tries not to keep opening the Tumblr app to see if someone has messaged him. Well, someone specific. I'm going north today!, is the last message sent between them, and Phil is still waiting for Winnie to offer to meet up or something.

After their non-starter interview, Phil and Winnie kept missing each other's free time to finish it over Skype. Phil kind of wants to hear more from them before he checks it out himself, but that's not looking likely at this point, especially if he's lugging his housemates along with him all weekend.

Phil opens a puzzle game on his phone and lets the mostly-mindless swiping distract him. It's a long drive up to Rossendale, and the last thing Phil wants is to be left alone with his thoughts.

Phil's parents love having guests round almost as much as they love to have him home, so Phil isn't at all surprised to walk in and smell a roast cooking. He expects that treats will be made as soon as the oven is free, because that's what his mum is like.

"Hello," Phil calls into the house, kicking off his shoes. His friends follow his lead - PJ puts his boots carefully on the mat that Phil didn't bother aiming for, and Sophie struggles with a particularly stubborn knot in her laces - as he hangs up his jacket. "Mum? Dad?"

"Child," his mum greets him happily, appearing in the entry to the kitchen and making grabby hands at him until he envelops her in a hug.

"Missed you," Phil tells her, quiet enough that his friends won't hear to make fun of him.

"Oh, I missed you," she says, giving him a kiss on the side of his face. She turns her beaming smile onto his housemates, who all pause in what they're doing like a frozen tableau. It's a little funny. "More children! Hello! I'm Kathryn, it's so nice to meet you. And so nice to see you again, PJ," she adds in that somewhat pointed voice that Phil hates so very much.

"Hello, Kath," PJ says, grinning wide. He gives her a hug, too. Chris holds out his hand for her to shake when she's done squeezing the life out of PJ, but Kath will have none of it.

"Don't be silly," she says, wrapping her arms tight around Chris' waist with a laugh. "We hug in this family."

"Really?" Chris asks, and the look he gives Phil is almost more embarrassing than if he'd asked 'so why isn't your son a hugger?' out loud. "Something smells absolutely delicious, Kathryn. Is that you, or is supper cooking?"

Phil stops himself from groaning out loud, but barely. He probably shouldn't be surprised at all that Chris' cheeky, flirtatious charm extends to mothers as well. Kath laughs and smacks lightly at Chris' chest before she turns to Sophie.

Skilled at making people feel comfortable in four seconds flat, Kath chatters away about supper and how lovely Sophie's curls are and how long it's been since she's seen Phil, did they know how long it's been? She herds them all into the kitchen like they're cattle and insists that Phil take their things upstairs while she puts the kettle on.

"Er, alright," Phil says, looking at the small collection of bags that they'd brought with them. Their clothes and toiletries are all there, of course, but so is all the filming and hunting equipment. He'll have to make at least two trips.

"Your father got the guest room and Martyn's room all set up before he went out," she tells him, either not noticing or ignoring his internal struggle.

Oh, wonderful. Phil had somehow forgotten about the part where they had three beds for four of them. He's positive that his housemates won't mind sharing with each other, but now he's been tasked with the anxiety-inducing puzzle of whose bags to put where.

"Okay," Phil says again, even though they've moved on to talking about their favourite kinds of cakes so that Kath can wow them all with her skills. He tries to catch PJ's eye, but PJ is too wrapped up in a conversation about strawberries to notice.

Alright, well. Phil grabs as many bags as he can carry and brings them upstairs, feeling some tension deep inside him get a little tighter as he notices that most of their personal effects are packed away, either in storage or already on the island, and his childhood home looks more like a show home than he's comfortable with. The stairs only creak a little under his weight, nothing like the old house in Brighton, but Phil still feels unsettled.

In the end, he throws PJ and Sophie in the guest room. It's a selfish move more than anything, because he's brought PJ for enough visits to be familiar with the way his parents look at each other every time PJ teases him.

They don't ask. They're not the type of people to pry, and Phil isn't the type of people to offer information unprompted. They've all been in this limbo for years where Phil doesn't tell them that he likes boys and they don't outright question if PJ is just a friend and, frankly, Phil is tired of it. So, Chris can sleep alone.

He takes his own bags up last, because he knows that stepping into his bedroom and seeing all the personality stripped from it is going to make him feel things he isn’t prepared to feel. Phil takes a deep breath before he goes inside, and releases it shakily as he drops his things on the floor.

The beige carpet is almost mocking him, telling him that it's time to grow up, and Phil leaves the room as fast as he can.

God it is so hard to get anything done here. Sorry to complain at you randomly but like... I forgot how hard it is to work when my parents are hovering and asking a million questions lmao

Winnie still hasn't responded to Phil's early morning message, but the frustration of his parents distracting him and his friends from their work is starting to get to him. Chris has completely charmed them, somehow, and both Sophie and PJ are too polite to put headphones on and ignore them the way Phil has decided to.

Surprisingly, he gets a reply right away: omg how have i never considered the fact that you had to tell your parents you wanted to hunt ghosts for a living thats so fucking funny also that sucks i live in a house full of students and i always have to go to the coffee shop to work on essays and shit

There's nothing good like that where my parents live. Your coffee place is in the city, right?

“No! He didn’t!” Chris is laughing, somewhere in the living room, and Phil has to turn up the white noise on his headphones. The idea of his parents and housemates trading embarrassing stories about him while he's holed up at the table with audio files he hates makes him itch.

yeah, Winnie says. Phil is so thrown off by the short message that his fingers pause on the keyboard.

Is he annoying them? He doesn't mean to. Phil thinks over the messages they've exchanged since talking on Skype, the wheel of worst case scenarios spinning quickly.

Before Phil can apologise or even really get his anxious mind to settle down, his laptop bloops again, once, twice, three times. Relief from the worry that Winnie doesn't like talking to him curls around Phil's shoulders, relaxing them.

It's a screenshot of Google Maps with an address pulled up, a different building circled in a bright blue. yeah i hella recommend and it's really close to wilkins as well, is the message accompanying the screenshot. Then, right afterwards, 10/10 hot chocolate if i do say so myself.

Phil isn't very big on hot chocolate on its own, but he is very big on quiet coffee shops.

It takes a lot of cajoling and promises that he won't be out too late for Phil to convince his parents that they'll be fine to drive to the city by themselves. His dad gets the same look on his face that he always does when Phil talks about work, but his mum merely pats his cheek and says, "Oh, love, be careful. I'll be cross if I have to get you from the police again."

"That was one time," Phil says, feeling his face flush as Chris looks at him with glee.

"One time too many," Nigel says, a bit too sternly to be a joke. Phil wonders if his friends pick up on it or if they just think he's banting like he's been all through supper, that same dry humour that Phil can see in Martyn making him funnier than his housemates had expected.

PJ and Sophie both laugh a bit, so... probably just Phil's knowledge of his dad making it more pointed than it really needs to be.

The coffee shop is open late, so Phil and his housemates decide to do some recon at the Wilkins place. The sun hasn't quite set yet, and the street isn't completely deserted or anything, so they have to wait for a good moment to leave the car.

They're careful. They've done this before.

The Wilkins place is an older townhouse in Rusholme with windows that have been boarded up since the early noughties because they kept getting broken. Technically, someone still owns the property, but the Wilkins family either didn't care about it or had forgotten it existed, because it's been abandoned as long as Phil can remember.

It also isn't very scary in his memory. It's draughty and has rats scurrying about, but the electricity and heating still worked, somehow, and the social situations he'd gotten thrown into at Martyn's shoulder were definitely more nerve-wracking than the house itself.

All of these things are still more or less true, according to everything Phil has been told, but when Phil climbs in through the loose boards of the kitchen window, the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up. He hesitates for so long on the sill that Chris pushes a bit at him, reminding him to move before some annoyed neighbour calls the police.

It's dim inside but not so dark that Phil's eyes strain; the streetlights and setting sun filter in through the boards and showcase the dust covering every surface.

Phil helps Sophie and then Chris through the window, PJ giving them boosts from the outside. They take the various bags from PJ and Sophie immediately pulls out the camera, ignoring the thuds that PJ's feet make as he launches himself up and clambers in like a monkey.

"Sexy," Chris drawls as PJ nearly tumbles onto his face. He's grabbing out equipment of his own, and so Phil is tasked with getting PJ through the window safely.

"At least I've got a modicum of upper body strength," PJ says. Neither of them are bothering to whisper, and that's making Phil anxious.

He can't put his finger on it, but... it doesn't feel like they're alone in here. There's probably someone hiding out from the chill of late October in one of the various empty rooms, and Phil's worst case scenario wheel is spinning so fast it's making him dizzy.

"Do you hear that?" Sophie asks, hushed. That stops PJ and Chris from continuing their bickering, and all three men freeze as they strain for whatever it is that Sophie's hearing. After a moment of complete silence, Sophie shakes her head. "It stopped. Hopefully the mic caught it over you lot."

PJ looks appropriately abashed, but Chris just shrugs. He's got a flashlight and an EMF meter, and he slings one of the bags over his shoulder before disappearing.

This is technically for Phil's channel - they're checking the place out, and Sophie is filming just in case something happens - but Phil still feels weird when PJ ducks off in another direction and Sophie stays at his side instead of following one of her boys, camera steady in her hands and the tip of her nose pink from the cool air.

"What did you hear?" Phil murmurs, beckoning her further into the house. The sound of creaking wood is so loud, like it's right above their heads, and Phil can only hope that it's one of his friends going upstairs.

"It could have been the wind," Sophie says mildly. "Or rats."

"Is that what it sounded like?"

Sophie blinks up at him and her mouth twists in an emotion that Phil can't place. "No. No, it sounded like a person talking."

Yeah, that's what Phil was afraid of. "Someone might be living here," he whispers, focusing on the dark hallway and trusting that Sophie is following.

The creaking again, this time from beside them, and Phil peeks his head around the corner to confirm that the staircase is what he's hearing. Chris is halfway up it, flashlight off between his teeth as he grips the railing like he's afraid the stairs are going to give out under him.

Phil hates this part. He'd rather do this completely alone than have to herd his friends like sheep. He leaves Chris to his own devices and moves into the lounge. This is where the majority of the litter is, empty bottles and cans and crisp bags everywhere. Phil takes a couple photos of it all and sends them to Martyn.

Remember your friend who used to bring a garbage bag to every party? Looks like he was the only one lol

He pauses. All too aware of Sophie's eyes and possibly the camera lens on him, Phil sends the photo to Winnie as well with a different caption: Does it always look like this?

Neither of them respond by the time Phil has picked his way through the first floor, which is at least good for his focus, but it doesn't explain why the house feels so much different than it had seven or eight years ago. Phil feels unsettled here in a way that he doesn't usually get anymore, goosebumps down his arms that aren't from the cold and the constant, unnerving feeling that someone is looking at him from the shadows.

Phil's phone buzzes as he and Sophie debate in whispers if they should go upstairs. Phil hates leaving anything to someone else, even if it's just a few rooms that surely PJ and Chris are capable of exploring on their own. He's in the middle of trying to explain that to Sophie when his voice catches in his throat.

"Peej says we should go," Phil says, interrupting himself. "He found something weird in the attic."

"What's he doing in the attic?" Sophie hisses.

"Dunno. I didn't even know there was an attic."

"We should go, then," says Sophie, like that decides it. Although it does rankle a bit to be lower on the totem pole of his own project, Phil has to admit that Sophie is right. If PJ is saying that it's time to go, then it's time to go.

Phil climbs out of the window first, taking the equipment with him, and then helps hoist Sophie safely down. She's so small that it's not even a strain, really, even with how little exercise Phil gets. They wait, huddled together, and Phil feels some of the knot in his chest start to loosen when he hears Chris and PJ arguing in whispers before the window boards get slid out of the way again.

"What did you find?" Phil asks immediately, and PJ hushes him on his way down.

"Let's go, I'll tell you at the café," he whispers, leading the way down the pavement with strides so purposeful that Phil wonders if he's been in this area before. It's all the rest of them can do to keep up with him, and Phil spares a moment to feel sorry for Sophie and her short legs.

He hangs back with her and lets Chris keep pace with PJ. Chris is still talking at a silent PJ in a hushed, passionate tone, like he's fighting with a brick wall, and Phil doesn't need to be involved in that.

The coffee shop is only a couple of streets away, but the tension that the Wilkins place and PJ's subsequent discovery has brought to the group makes it feel much further. PJ stops in front of a purple door, and Phil has a begrudging respect for his ability to remember where something is after simply being told the address. The shop is small and a little dingy, but the lighting inside is soft through the narrow windows and there's a fireplace that Phil longs to curl up in front of like a cat.

Chris scowls at PJ and holds the door open for him in the same breath. Phil doesn't understand their relationship and at this point he's too afraid to ask, but he ducks into the inviting warmth anyway to try to get the goosebumps off his skin.

The two employees behind the counter look at the door like they've been caught with their hands in a cookie jar. A girl with brightly-coloured hair is holding a bunch of marshmallows, a hand poised mid-throw, and an unreasonably tall guy with an unreasonably large mouth is gawping as one of the marshmallows hits him in the chin.

"You missed," Phil informs them, grinning a bit as he unwinds his scarf.

"Oops," the girl laughs, setting the marshmallows down and pulling up a customer service smile. "What can I get for you guys?"

While PJ and Sophie pore over the menu and Chris starts asking if she'll throw marshmallows into his mouth if he asks very nicely, Phil's eyes drift to the other worker.

His mouth is still open, a bit, and his face flushes when their eyes meet. "Er," he says, glancing behind him as if Phil is looking at someone else, and that's so endearing that Phil is sufficiently distracted from the mystery down the street.

Phil isn't extremely self-conscious or anything, but he also knows he's not going to be the hottest guy in a room, so he's a bit flattered and a lot confused about this guy's reaction to him.

The thing is, the guy is very attractive. A couple of perfect curls poke out from under his cap, and there's some type of shimmer on his face that Phil could not put a name to if you paid him. He knows literally nothing about makeup, but he knows that it makes this giant of a man look softer and his blush even more obvious when it deepens.

"Hi," Phil says, giving him a little wave. He can still hear Chris chattering on and Sophie debating the merits of a hot chocolate versus a cappuccino, so he's pretty sure nobody is paying them any attention. The guy twitches like he wants to look over his shoulder again, but he stops himself.

"Uh, hi? Sorry to be, like, weird, I just - I didn't expect -"

The voice is familiar, the rambling is familiar, and then it clicks. "Oh, hi," Phil says again, warmer this time. He steps closer to the counter and grins up at them - an unusual thing in itself, since Phil doesn't meet many people taller than him. "You didn't mention that you work here."

Winnie's shoulders slump forward in a kind of relief, and they scratch the back of their neck, looking awkward and out of place even in an outfit that coordinates with the colour scheme of the whole shop. Phil looks the uniform over and immediately regrets it, because he didn't mean to see Winnie's name tag and now he feels weird about knowing something he wasn't actually told. He doesn't feel too weird about being here, though, because - well. Winnie had technically invited him.

"Honestly, I didn't know you'd be 'investigating' so soon," says Winnie. They're still blushing and the finger quotes are somehow cute, even though they're being used to poke at Phil's career. Their nails are dark and sparkly, and Phil desperately needs to stop noticing things about their hands. "I would have told you, probably, or I'd just - I dunno, try to make a better first impression."

"You're making a fine first impression," Phil assures them.

Winnie snorts. "Oh, bullshit."

"Phil," PJ says, nudging him. Phil suddenly remembers that there are, in fact, other people around him, and he can't just keep looking at Winnie's long, dark eyelashes. "What are you having?"

Honestly, Phil hasn't even looked at the menu. He's so easily distracted by pretty boys with big hands and - oh, right, he's got to be careful about that, even in his own head. Especially in his own head. Winnie isn't a pretty boy, he really shouldn't be thinking about them like that at all.

"Uh," Phil says eloquently. He's very particular with his hot drinks, usually, but he's got a lot going on in his mind right now and it's easier just to shrug at Winnie than to look away and think. "Dunno, actually. Surprise me?"

Winnie smiles, and Phil's stomach twists. "I can do that."

#quiet on widow's peak #phanfic #phanfiction #dnp fic #words words words

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wilsonsnest · 5 years

Text

[w&s] date night

more general store/diner au because everyone needs that extremely specific au in their life. i only posted the last one to ao3 because it was a spicy meatball. you can find both previous parts of wilson’s & stucky’s here.

every time i write one of these it gets increasingly fluffier.

pairing: samsteve, sambucky word count: 2,972 summary: sam and steve go on a date, then bucky and steve cross a boundary.

Steve often considers that anywhere else, hell even the next town over, what they were doing would be considered outlandishly weird. But he and Bucky had basically grown up in each other’s pockets, the only brief interlude being when Bucky had shipped off with the Army. Even one less arm and ptsd between them couldn’t shake their unbreakable bond.

So the fact that the ended up falling for the same guy wasn’t all that surprising. Them both agreeing to share had been a little more unexpected, especially since Steve knew he could be a possessive bastard when he wanted to be. But if there was anyone he was willing to share Sam’s affections with, it was Bucky. And Sam clearly adored Bucky, and he’d give Sam the world on a platter if he could.

It worked out for the most part. They spent a lot of time together at Sam’s place, though Bucky tended to sleep over more. Though their relationships often intertwined, there were some major differences. Bucky and Sam almost never went out on dates. Occasionally, they’d stop by Red/Hawk’s for a quick drink and to catch up with everyone. But they never stayed for long and Bucky always grew more uncomfortable the more crowded the bar got.

Steve and Sam on the other hand, went out as often as possible. The town of Ridley was about a 45 minute drive, and while it wasn’t huge, it had a movie theatre and a few chain restaurants that made for a fairly good date night. Steve absolutely treasured those nights with Sam. Holding his hands in the dark theatre while they giggled and scoffed at the latest stupid action thriller.

Before Sam, Steve had thought mainstream dating culture was tedious. Now that he was with Sam? He sort of hated that Bucky wasn’t able to experience the same thing.

Case in point. He was leaving the closing up tonight to Bucky while he and Sam caught a 10pm movie. He changed in the employee bathroom, running his fingers through his hair to try and look a little more presentable. Ducking into the kitchen, he caught Bucky slipping his phone back into his pocket.

“Hey, Buck, I’m about to head out. You good?” Steve had asked him at least twice already. Worrying about Bucky was second nature at this point.

“M’fine, Steve.” Bucky over at him, his mouth twisted into a complicated not-quite frown. “Your gonna be late if you don’t get outta here.”

“I’m getting there.” Steve huffed, smiling a little. “If you need anything—“

“Call you, yeah, I know.” Bucky rolled his eyes. “Tell Sam I said hi.”

“That all?”

“Fuck off, Steve. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“I make no promises.”

x x x x

The movie date ended up being quite successful. They strategically chose a movie that had been out for quite a while, hoping to avoid the Saturday night crowds. Of course, being the weekend meant there were a few other patrons in the theatre. But Sam and Steve had arrived early and managed to commandeer the very back, and none of the other moviegoers seemed interested in sharing space. The scattered crowd meant that they could spend the movie holding hands and leaning over to whisper to one another during the frankly uninteresting feature.

Sam leaned over into Steve’s space, while grabbing a handful of popcorn from their shared bucket. “You still chugging through the Hobbit or did you give up?”

He couldn’t see Steve’s grimace in the darkness of the theatre, but he knew it was there.

“I haven’t ‘given up’.” Steve muttered, nudging Sam with his shoulder. “I’m just reading at my own pace. Taking it all in.”

Sam snorted and ate a few pieces of popcorn. “It’s boring, isn’t it. You hate it.”

“I don’t hate it.” Steve said stubbornly. “It’s just not my usual taste.”

Sam barely stifled a laugh. For some reason they started watching movie franchises. It had started after he, Bucky and Steve had watched all of the original Star Trek together and then decided to add on the films. Sam had suggested they do the Lord of the Rings trilogy, which they had all enjoyed immensely. Bucky’s suggestion came in the form of The Matrix, which kind of outshined Sam’s choice in a big way. Then of course Steve had to go ahead and suggest the Hobbit movies and Sam had put his foot down.

He asked Steve if he had ever even read the book. And if he really thought watching a children’s novel be spread out over three full length films was really the best use of their time. Steve had asserted that no he hadn’t read the book, and thus a deal was struck. If Steve could get through The Hobbit and still wanted to watch the movies Sam would acquiesce.

It had been five months now and updates from Bucky suggested that they still had a long ways to go before Steve was anywhere near finishing. They had moved onto the X-Men movies, much to Steve’s annoyance.

“By time you finish they’ll have remade the Lord of the Rings movies.” Sam said playfully.

With an exaggerated yawn, he stretched his arms up over his head, before looping on arm around Steve’s shoulders. He could feel his boyfriend shaking with laughter, trying to constrain his noise level. Sam smirked triumphantly even as Steve playfully slapped his chest.

“Real smooth, Sam.”

“Hey, I gotta take my chances where I see ‘em.”

They turned their attention back to the movie, which seemed to be in its final act as explosions seems to be setting off and everyone had very serious, determined looks on their faces. They finished the movie in silence, their hands occasionally brushing in the popcorn bucket. As soon as the credits hit, Steve stood, brushing the crumbs off his t-shirt and looked down at Sam.

“What’d you think?” He asked as he offered Sam his hand.

Sam smiled, Steve could be such a gentleman at times. It was endearing as hell. “5 out of 10, no idea what happened but everything seemed to work out at the end so I count that as a win.”

“Your generosity is one of the things I love about you.” Steve said cheekily. He swiped Sam’s coat before the taller man could grab it and helped him into the sleeves before Sam shrugged it the rest of the way on himself.

Steve led them out of the theatre, dutifully depositing their popcorn bucket in the trash as they headed out into the dark lobby. There were still a few movies playing, but the theatre was otherwise closed.

Out in the parking lot, the air was crisp and Sam quickly buttoned his coat. Winter was moving in much faster than Sam had anticipated, and it was one thing he was not looking forward to. He sighed in relief as Steve unlocked the door to the truck and climbed in immediately.

“You wanna stay the night?” Sam asked as he buckled his seatbelt.

“Hmm.” Steve reached over to turn on the heat and then the radio. “Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to come over to ours?”

Sam raised an eyebrow at that suggestion. Sam spent very little time at Steve and Bucky’s home. It was a beautiful two-floor stone cottage type, fairly close to lakeside. Sam liked the place, but it always felt like there were boundaries all over the home. Places were Steve wouldn’t cross and Bucky wouldn’t cross. Sam’s home truly was neutral territory for all of them.

Still the temptation was there. He would love to see Bucky tonight instead of just calling him before bed.

“He’d never say it,” Steve started as he pulled out of the parking space. “But he misses you when we go out like this.”

“Ah,” Sam sighed, looking forward out the window. “Do you think it bothers him?”

“No. Well,” Steve paused and tried to figure out how he wanted to phrase the next part. “When he goes to your house, I can always just drop by and visit. But he can’t… join us for stuff like this. It sucks.”

Sam wasn’t surprised to hear the depth of emotion in Steve’s voice. He could see his boyfriend’s hands were tense on the steering wheel. It was always so heartwarming to see how much Steve and Bucky truly cared about one another and their relationships with Sam. He remembered in the beginning, thinking that all three of them were going to date. Steve and Bucky had quickly assured him that they had no desire to date each other.

They were best friends. Brothers, really.

Sam thought it was more than that, platonic soulmates at the very least. But he knew both Bucky and Steve would just scoff at the suggestion. Sam was just happy to know that they cared about one another so fiercely. It made worrying less harrowing when you had someone else to do it with.

“It does kind of suck.” Sam admitted. He loved his date nights with Bucky. They would pile pillows and blankets onto the couch. Sometimes even light candles when they were feeling fancy and just watch re-runs of tv shows for hours. It was soothing, and Sam cherished those nights deeply.

But sometimes he wished he could do more for Bucky. His dark-haired boyfriend couldn’t quite hide the disappointment of not being able to take Sam out for movies, or dinner, or any of the other traditional date night activities.

“It’s alright though,” Sam murmured quietly, almost forgetting Steve was next to him. “I just like it when we’re together.”

He felt a hand rest gently on his thigh and looked up to see a soft smile on Steve’s lips. Sam couldn’t help the warmth that flooded his chest as he considered just how lucky he was.

x x x x

The lights were off by time they pulled up the gravel road to the lakeside cottage. Bucky probably wasn’t expecting Steve home and had likely gone to bed.

They hurried out of the car and into the home, trying escape the cold air, especially being so close to water. Steve flipped on one of the lights, while Sam shrugged out of his coat and shoes to hang them by the door.

“I didn’t bring anything to sleep in.” Sam whispered the realization. Since he rarely stayed over, it usually wasn’t a problem.

“You should be able to fit something of Bucky’s.” Steve finished taking off his coat and beckoned Sam to follow him.

They went to the small closet laundry room and Steve pulled out a shirt from the dryer. It was gray and worn, and far too big for Sam. It smelled delightfully of the detergent he had come to associate with both of his boyfriend’s.

Sam smiled gratefully and immediately pulled off his long-sleeved shirt, trying not to smirk at the way Steve’s eyes lingered on his body as he changed. Perhaps he was being a bit naughty, taking off his jeans right there in the hallway, but it was worth it for the look Steve gave him. If it weren’t so late, perhaps.

Sam bundled up his clothes and put them on top of the washing machine. He opened his mouth to speak when Steve quickly pressed him against the appliance. Sam felt his ass digging into the cold steel and he made an abrupt noise of surprise.

“Too damn tall.” Steve groused, as he pushed a knee between Sam’s leg and reached up to pull Sam down.

Amused, Sam obliged and leaned down to kiss his shorter boyfriend, sweet at first. Steve made a noise of regret as soon as they pulled away and tugged Sam down again for a much more intensive exploration. Sam could practically feel himself melting, the irresistible taste and feel of Steve tempting him.

He pulled away, trying to keep a cool head even as he looked down at Steve’s wet, reddened lips. “It’s way too late for this.”

“I can be quick.” Steve said cheekily, though his mood seemed more relaxed.

“You’re a mess, Rogers.” Sam laughed and shook his head. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead before playfully pushing him away. “D’you think Bucky would mind…?”

“I think he’ll be pleasantly surprised.” Steve answer encouragingly, putting a hand on Sam’s back. “Go on.”

Sam flashed him a grateful smile before heading up the stairs to Bucky’s bedroom. The door was only half closed, which made it easy for him to quietly enter. The room was fairly dark, though the glow of the clock on Bucky’s dresser made it easier to see. He carefully sat at the foot of Bucky’s bed, not wanting to startle him.

He reached out until he felt the lump of a foot underneath the comforter and called gently. “James?”

For a moment, he’d thought perhaps he had been too soft when he heard a shuffling and then movement underneath his hand.

“Steve?” Bucky’s voice was rough with sleep and he sounded adorably confused.

“Nah, the handsome one.” Sam replied.

In an instance, light flooded the room as Bucky turned on the lamp nearby. Sam squinted, startled by the sudden brightness and could see Bucky doing the same. His boyfriend’s hair was a mess, sticking up at odd angles and twisting around his head. He still looked half-asleep, blinking at Sam like he wasn’t quite sure of what he was seeing.

“Sammy?” Bucky finally asked, the question lilting upwards at the end.

“Hi Bucky.” Sam ducked his head, suddenly feeling a little shy. He watched at Bucky’s eyes flickered to the shirt Sam was wearing as realization dawned.

“Sammy.” His voice was almost achingly soft.

Sam couldn’t resist anymore and crawled up the bed to Bucky, smiling as his boyfriend immediately wrapped his arm around him. Barely awake, but looking at Sam like he was the most wondrous thing he’d ever laid eyes on. Sam smiled brightly before leaning in and kissing Bucky, heart fluttering at the other man eagerly kissed back.

“I missed you.” Sam said when they pulled away, looking up at Bucky from under his lashes.

“How was your date?” Bucky asked, the slightest protective streak coming out.

Sam reached up and cradled Bucky’s cheek, touched by his concern. “Perfect, well,” Sam shook his head. “The movie wasn’t good but the company was great.”

“Oh good, about Steve. Not the movie.” Bucky’s brows knitted together before he yawned loudly right in Sam’s face. “Oh, God, sorry.”

Sam’s shoulders shook with the effort of stopping himself from laughing. “No, you're exhausted, I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Bucky tugged him closer. “Glad you’re here.”

Sam smiled and tucked his head under Bucky’s chin. He sighed as Bucky laid back down, pulling Sam on top of him. The light was still on, and Sam was the closest, but he just wanted to lay there for a moment. Bucky’s familiar lavender soap and lemon-scented clorox wipe smell easily relaxing him.

“Where’s Steve?” Bucky murmured quietly, seemingly in no hurry to move either.

Sam didn’t have the answer as there was a knock on the door and then Steve poked his head in, probably seeing that the light was still on.

“Just saying good night.” He said sheepishly, probably feeling like he was intruding. “Closing went alright, Buck?”

Bucky let out a mock over-dramatic sigh. “Yes, Steve. I managed to survive the night.”

“I’m very proud of you.” Steve’s voice was so earnest that both Sam and Bucky had to laugh. “Seriously, I appreciate it. We had a good time.”

“Glad you're both back safe.” Bucky’s voice was warm, his eyes looking from Steve then down to Sam nestled against his chest.

“G’night then, Bucky. Love you Sam.” Steve reached to close the door when Bucky stopped him.

“Wait, wait.” Bucky raised his voice just a little. He bit his lip, hesitating only for a moment before he jerked his head up. “C’mon, the bed’s big enough.”

Steve’s eyes widened so much that Sam had to close his eyes to keep form laughing. The blonde just stood in the doorway for a moment, too surprised to even respond. This was not a boundary they had crossed over at their home. Sure, they’d done it at Sam’s because that was the only bed available, but here?

Sam finally looked and saw that Steve was obviously calculating the pros and cons in his head. But he also knew the longer Steve hesitated, the more anxious Bucky was going to get.

“Steve, its a cold night.” Sam spoke up, trying to ease the tension. “I’ll definitely need the extra body warmth.”

Both Bucky and Steve snorted at that. Steve’s body was about as useful as a heater as a thin towel in Alaska. Despite that, the sentiment seemed enough for Steve to take up the offer. Bucky scooted over so that Sam would be in the middle and Steve climbed into bed on Sam’s right. He turned off the lights before snuggling up against Sam’s back, sighing contentedly.

“S’just like when we were kids, huh, Buck?” Steve whispered, his breath ghosting pleasantly against Sam’s back.

“Sam’s a much better cuddler than Mister Honeysuckle.” Bucky asserted.

“Mister Honeysuckle?” Sam asked, confused.

“Big stuffed giraffe we won at a carnival.” Steve explained as a he wrapped an arm around Sam.

Sam hummed in understanding before letting out a yawn of his own. Quiet fell as all three of them began to answer the tempting call of sleep. Sam couldn’t help but be so grateful to be able to have them both like this.

“I won that giraffe, Rogers.”

Was the last thing whispered into the night.

#samsteve #sambucky #sam wilson #steve rogers #bucky barnes #wilson and stucky's #domestic af #theres no stucky sorry #my fanfic tag

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ofwizardsandmen · 5 years

Text

I like me better when I’m with you

Characters: Tara Lee, Mark Yang, Tyler Lee (briefly).

Word count: 3,9k

Genre: angst, fluff

OST: Ed Sheeran - Hearts Don't Break Round Here

A knock on the door interrupts Tara from staring soullessly at the screen of her laptop. It’s only been a couple of hours since she left the Yang Residence and yet she has completely lost track of time. She can’t remember how long she’s been sitting on her bed, wrapped in a duvet, but the memories of her conversation with Mark are all vague and hazy, like scenes from a Frank Capra film.

Yet, it is probably the hopeful melodies or the fact Julie Andrews’ sweet innocence in The Sound of Music always manages to put her in a good mood, but Tara almost feels like she’s been transported to some benevolent alternate universe where she’s just a regular Oxford student chilling at home on a summer night and procrastinating her summer school paper for Medieval Literature.

There are no boys.

No magic.

No famous ex-boyfriend or fake fiancé.

It is just Tara and her muggle musical.

“I’m fine, Ty” Tara whines as Captain von Trapp walks into Maria’s room and finds his children singing along My Favorite Things. “Go to sleep!” Mentally cursing at her brother for disturbing her hardly-found peace of mind, Tara pulls the fluffy duvet tighter under her chin.

Another knock

Tara lets the duvet fall to her shoulders, feeling as though she doesn’t have the strength to deal with anything right now.

“Ty, seriously…” she utters wearily. “I want to be alone-”

“I’m coming in” A voice that definitely doesn’t belong to her brother announces.

A second later, the door gapes open and Tara’s ex-boyfriend walks in, closing the door behind him.

Mark’s presence catches Tara off guard. From all the people she could’ve expected to see, her ex looking aggravatingly good was definitely not on top of her list, so she nearly chokes in her inhale.

With her heart picking up, Tara pauses the movie and then holds on to the duvet tightly. Almost as if her life depended on it.

And yes. It is a life-threatening situation if you consider that Tara can’t imagine a greater humiliation than letting Mark see the sweatshirt she’s wearing beneath. It is one of the many clothes she had raid from his closet during her last visit to Seoul, claiming that she would use them whenever she missed him.

Why did she have to be so freaking ridiculous? That is beyond Tara understanding, but now, letting him see that goddammed sweatshirt on her would be yet another moral defeat on the same day. Not to mention it would be downright mortifying.

“Hey” Mark stands at the door, his hands shoved in the pockets of his favorite bomber jacket as Tara holds on the duvet for dear life.

“What are you doing here?” She turns her head in the other direction as if her vanity was the most interesting piece of furniture she’s ever seen.

At her sour expression, Mark’s expression falls. For a split of a second he seems to be unable to form a coherent sentence or push himself to do anything at all, but eventually, he quietly steps towards Tara and without saying a single word he sits on the edge of the bed.

But Tara avoids his eyes. She can’t bring herself to look at him because his presence is suddenly reliving the embarrassment and humiliation she felt during their conversation earlier that day.

“I saw the album,” Mark says, his breath hitching as Tara blinks twice without really understanding what he means. “Jae said it was a present from you”.

With the trauma of facing Mark, she has almost forgotten about his birthday gift. Of course, she now regrets spending so much time putting together a photo book with pictures of the two from childhood up to the months previous to their breakup. If she had known Mark was going to behave the way he did, Tara would’ve accepted Enzo’s invitation and instead of the comfort of her bed, she would be on a luxurious yacht sailing the Greek Islands. Or she would’ve asked Tyler to lock her in her room so there were no more chances to land on the cover of scandal-hungry tabloids and gossip sites. Yes, she likes the second idea better.

But no, against her better judgment, she went to visit her ex-boyfriend so he could shatter her pride in pieces and humiliate her.

“And I’m truly sorry” Without another word, Mark reaches to pull Tara to his chest. Initially, he meets resistance from her part. She briefly struggles to free herself, but when her name escapes from Mark’s lips in a soft whisper that makes her feel a wonderful sense of loosening inside, she gives in with a sigh. Too exhausted and emotionally drained to fight him back, she also lets go of the duvet in favor of letting Mark wrap his arms around her.

“I’m so, so sorry, T” He repeats as his hands move to stroke her hair and pat her back gently, slightly desperate to show he how apologetic he truly is. “I am sorry”

There’s a brief moment of silence before Tara speaks, her voice breathy with a contained chuckle.

“I know”

Mark is so thankful when she wraps her arms around him and buries her face against his chest that his heart races embarrassingly and his throat moves when he swallows. Yet, Tara seems unfazed, wrapped in her own thoughts and the scent of oolang and bergamot from Mark’s signature perfume combined with the faint smell of Febreze that Taeyong uses religiously in their clothes.

Mark smells like spring and his embrace makes Tara feel like home, so she stays that way for a few minutes, eyes closed, easily sinking into his arms and basking in the familiarity of it all. It is just a simple hug, but it conveys their feelings with much greater clarity than words could have; it is almost a reminder of easier days when everything was less tangled and a simple hug could put everything back in its right place.

Now everything seems as it could be fine.

That is, of course, until she pulls away and notices Mark’s eyes brimming with tears.

It’s probably too soon to draw conclusions, but for some reason it makes Tara’s former optimism deflate.

Not like this is the first time Tara sees Mark cry. Oh no, she has seen him cry plenty of times before, although when she tells those stories to other people, they believe she’s making them up because Mark is a strong man by any standard and he has never shown any sign of weakness in front of anyone else. Particularly not in front of his bandmates or his fans.

People regard Mark as always cool and collected, that one person who always knows what to say and what people expect from him. He didn’t cry when his group reached the Nº1 spot for the first time in the South Korean charts, nor during his first concert or that time he injured himself in a rather foolish fashion and subsequently skipped a whole round of promotions with his group. If you were to ask anyone, Mark is described as a hardworking young man with a somewhat detached and serene outlook on life.

But that is Mark, the rapper of NCT. The Mark Yang sitting next to Tara cried when she went to Hogwarts for the first time and when their first bunny died. Mark cries over a sad movie plot and whenever he misses his family. The Mark Tara knows is anything but detached. He is loving and slightly clingy, although he always justifies himself claiming that he barely spends time with his loved ones.

That’s exactly why doubt wings through Tara when her eyes fix on Mark. Granted, her concern is slightly unreasonable given the circumstances and their unspoken reconciliation, but she knows him by heart and he looks merely appalled.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, eyeing him suspiciously

“Nothing” He musters dismissively. Tara doesn’t know he’s fighting hard to keep the tears at bay, but she can guess, by the way he bits on his lower lip, that there’s something he wants to tell her. And she simply expects the worst.

“Then what’s with that expression?” she says, forcing a soft laugh. “You look as though you’ve murdered someone.”

Mark doesn’t respond. There is silence and then a simple head motion

“I don’t know how bad this actually is or if Jane will be able to fix it before it goes out, but…” A frustrated breath slips from Mark’s lips and he moves to grab Tara’s hand “Earlier today I kinda told a reporter we had broken up.”

“What?” Tara’s eyes narrow in confusion.

“Listen T, I am really sorry, I just…” Mark runs his free hand through his hair “I got this question about you and the rumors and I-“ he tightens his grip on her hand “I just lost it. I saw that article on the news and I don’t know what got into me. Please, forgive me, I didn’t mean to-“

Amusement swirling in her chest, Tara doesn’t even attempt to hold in a laugh.

“Mark, people have been speculating about our break up for weeks and if they couldn't tell yet after the pictures of you and Mindy walking by the hand late at night” She said the last bit with the tiniest bit of accusation in her voice “They probably did after the headlines of this morning, so unless you had told them I cheated on you or that you hated me, I think we’ll be ok”

“No, I would never” Mark says softly, once again wrapping himself around Tara “I only said that we broke up and I wished not to be asked any more questions about the topic”

“An answer straight from the idol book. Well done” Tara laughs, but still, that emotion written on Mark’s face —that she recognizes as guilt— doesn’t seem to go away. “Oh, come on, Mark, change that expression! What’s wrong now?” Tara rolls her eyes, looking at him over her shoulder.

“I…” He falters “I also made you cry”

“When did you?” Tara asks, moving away from the hug and turning so they’re finally face to face. “I haven’t cried” She frowns, although her slightly puffed eyes aren’t painting the most convincing picture.

“Tyler told me” Mark smiles with a swift rise of his cheekbones. If Tara didn’t know him better she would assume that he is amused.

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself” Tara scoffs, but Mark is still smiling at her with a sort of smug twinkle in his eyes.

“I hate I made you cry, I really do.” He says solemnly “But the fact you did…” Mark finds the auspicious moment to caress Tara’s face with his thumbs, making her huff once she notices his cheeks going all squishy and his eyes crinkling in a smile.

She would definitely be offended if she didn’t know there’s no malice to it, just Mark��s attempts to lighten up the mood.

“I swear I will never make you cry again” He says, interlacing their hands “Please, don’t ever cry again” Mark places a gentle kiss on her cheek before adding “Plebeians like me don’t deserve the tears of a princess”

Tara cringes and laughs, smacking Mark’s arm softly

“That’s so cheesy” she complains, faking a retching noise. “Please never repeat that”

“Why?” Mark catches Tara’s fist before it lands on his chest, pulling her towards him for the umpteenth time. It almost feels like he wants to make up for the lost time and Tara is not in a position to complain or criticize him because the longing is mutual so she only throws her arms around his neck, shaking her head. “Yo, it’s true though…” Mark says, his boyish manners coming out in full force when he speaks.

“That you’re cheesy?” Tara jokes.

“That I am a plebeian and you are a real princess… my princess”

“Ugh… cheesy” Tara’s face contorts into what could be disgust, but a split so second later she bursts out laughing. Mark chuckles too, but he becomes solemn as his hands slide under Tara’s —his— sweatshirt and his fingers glide up her sides until they reach for the curve of her waist.

“No, but seriously, T… I’m sorry” he repeats as Tara plays with his hair distractedly “I was rude to you and that was just off-limits. Nothing justifies the way I behaved.”

“True” Tara concedes with a nod and a small smile spreading on her face.

“You didn’t deserve any of that and I apologize for it”

“True again. You were acting stupid” She replies simply, looking away as she removes her hands from Mark’s neck, a noticeable frown on her face “But I guess I can take that apology”

A hearty laugh fills the room when Mark realizes Tara is just faking the angered expression and seconds later she ends up throwing him a poorly executed wink.

“Thank you, T” The guy’s amusement quickly vanishes, a warm feeling of elation coming over him. It is the kind of feeling that makes you believe an enormous burden has been lifted from your shoulders and you can finally be at peace.

He beams, his smile so bright that it almost makes Tara feel blinded by it. Then, a teasing glint fills his eyes “Though now that I remember, you did call me an idiot…” he dramatically places a hand over his heart “That hurt”

“Should I even be sorry? You were acting like one” Tara states matter-of-factly. She raises a brow, trying to ignore the way Mark’s hands have returned to hold her at the waist pulling her closer.

“What?” Mark opens his mouth in an exaggerated fashion, pretending to take the offense.

“It’s true, you were acting like a di-” Tara stops midway, giggling as Mark tickles her sides. “Oh, come on!” Laughter escapes from her lips abundantly. “Mark... please…” She twists, fighting desperately to escape from his attack, but Mark continues to dig his fingertips on her sides, chuckling and occasionally letting out a full laugh.

“Please what?” He asks, watching amused how Tara tries to push him off with her knees.

“Stop!” She giggles “Please, Mark, stop!” She smacks his hands away when they reach her ribs and then places both her hands against his chest to stop him from ambushing her again “I’m sorry. Ok?” she says, catching her breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you serious?” Mark’s doe eyes flutter open as though he can’t believe his ears and Tara only nods, still focused on regulating her breathing pace. “Oh T. Don’t be.” Mark places a hand over one of hers, squeezing it and pulling it to his lips to kiss it briefly “I actually deserved it because what you said back then was true. I was just trying to get back at you.”

“I know” Tara replies, wondering if Mark is aware of who he’s talking to. Of course she knew, even if he wasn’t fully aware back then, Tara knew. She always knows. “But that’s not what I’m sorry about. I also owe you an apology for the Mindy misunderstanding and the whole Darius scandal. Although it shouldn’t be a big deal, considering we had broken up, you still deserve to know nothing ever happened between him and I”

Mark blinks not fully sure of what to say next. He remains quiet, letting go of Tara’s hand but a grin —that he had dumbly tried to suppress— slowly makes its way onto his lips. Tara laughs because Mark, as always, is transparent as glass and the happiness that her statement causes him is not even close to been hidden.

“So you’re telling me nothing happened with the perfect Darius Black?” He questions skeptically, smug grin still plastered across his face.

“First of all wipe that grin off” Tara rolls eyes, her hand smacking Mark’s shoulder playfully “Don’t be such a smug jerk”

Mark could be offended, but he ignores that last part on behalf of attending a more urgent matter, which is finding out what Tara has been up to since their breakup. It is a question that has been torturing him for weeks, so he jumps in as soon as the opportunity presents.

Of course, Mark is not generally the jealous or possessive type, but watching the pictures of —his— Tara walking by the arm of another man —a man who had always shown more than just a casual friendly interest in her— had awoken something inside him.

“So?” Mark begins to feel the worm of jealousy squirming in his guts as he imagines Darius' hands roaming Tara’s body, his lips pressing against hers, hot and urgent, an image practically etched in his mind since the morning when he saw that goddamned picture of them looking like lovebirds on the news. “Nothing?” He has no other choice but to pretend to be ok, so he lets out a sigh, easing his chest from that emotional hell.

“Nothing” Tara says, shaking her head from side to side. “I’m offended you even ask.”

“You are a beautiful woman, Tara” Mark ignores her weak attempt to hide the smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Men hit on you all the time and that Darius is shamelessly obvious about want-“

“I know how to say no, Mark” Tara says seriously.

“Oh, so he did try to hit on you” Mark insists predictably, causing Tara to chuckle. “I knew he did. I mean, of course he would, you got all dressed up and looked so fine. He would’ve been stupid if he didn’t”

“Mark, seriously nothing happened” Tara interrupts, her voice a mixture of amusement and weariness. “He was just trying to be helpful” She speaks as though she is trying to explain a hypersensitive 4 year-old that 1 plus 1 equals 2, but Mark does nothing but to repeat her last word with a questioning eyebrow. It makes Tara aware of all the explaining left to do, but also gives her the urge of kissing away the furrow of his brows. “Listen” Tara swifts on the bed to reposition herself “I drank too much and he was just trying to keep me safe.” Tara admits, looking everywhere but at his face.

“What?” Mark’s voice suddenly goes harsh and Tara turns to find an unexpectedly tense-looking man staring at her. “Are you sure he didn’t try anything weird-?”

“No, he didn’t.” Tara places a hand on Mark’s thigh reassuringly, but can’t deny the odious thrill his protective side makes her feel. “Trust me, Mark. Enzo or Adela would’ve already killed him if he had”

“Ok” Mark’s face relaxes and he goes back to looking at Tara with the same smug grin from before and eyes alight with mischief “So?”

“So what?” Tara rolls eyes “What now?”

“So why did you reject him? Because I’m not gonna believe he didn’t ask you out” Mark speaks naturally, as though he had just formulated a question about something like the time or the weather. “As far as I know all your friends fawn over him and Jane keeps reminding me that he is one of the most eligible bachelors of... your world” He adds that last bit hesitant.

Tara makes a mental note to scold her friend later “He’s just not my type”

Mark huffs “Tall, blonde, green eyes and handsome is not your type?” He asks incredulously.

“Why are you being so annoying, Mark?” Tara moves until she’s leaning her back against the pillows and crosses her arms over her chest. “What do you want to hear? That I got drunk because I missed you and I already made out with most of Enzo’s friends at previous parties so I knew, as a matter of fact, I wasn’t going to get over you going out with someone else and acting like some immature teenager? Is that what you want to hear?” Tara snaps, but surprisingly, her voice is warped and tiny, twisted beyond recognition.

For a second Tara holds her breath expecting Mark to snap back at her. She watches his body stiffen, his face tense up, his eyes looking away from her. Then silence overcomes the room and she mentally smacks herself for every single decision she’s made that day.

“Hey” Mark pushes Tara out of her self-chastisement moment offering a hand a pulling her closer. “I’m sorry. I was just joking” he says, arms wrapping around her tightly “I didn’t realize what you went through.” Tara opens her mouth to say something, but Mark shakes his head and goes on. “That picture on the news… oh, God, T. It’s been driving me insane. I never knew how scared of losing you I was until this morning and I don’t want to feel like this ever again-“ Tara’s hand on his chin, silences Mark and when he looks at her, he’s surprised to find Tara smirking at him.

“Shut up. You have nothing to worry about” she pretends to pick inexistent pieces of fuzz from his jacket. “You know why?” Mark only shakes his head, making Tara scoff at him “Because you are the only person I’ve ever loved.” She says simply. “And I only have eyes for you”

"Hmm" Mark stares at her thoughtfully, almost as though he has been left at a loss for words, but between the smile on his face and the greedy way his hands clutch around her waist, Tara knows he has plenty of words to say. “You know what I really think?" He asks.

"No, but I bet you're going to tell me"

"I think maybe you’ve figured out no one can top me" It is impossible for Mark not to burst into laughter right after pronouncing such cringe-worthy words, his cheeks going a light hue of pink.

“Shut up” Although the muscles of her leg refuse to kick him to shut him up, Tara pushes him slightly.

“I’m kidding” He smooths down Tara’s hair, “But here’s a fact” He looks at her adoringly, clutching onto her with force “I love you, Tara Lee.”

“I love you too” Tara places a hand around his neck “Only you, Markie”

The two exchange a moment as they look into each other’s eyes, none of them daring to move, afraid to ruin the perfect harmony they’ve fallen into. Until Mark decides to break the silence, looking extra worried.

“Did we just miss the perfect timing to kiss?” He asks, dipping his head down to murmur into Tara’s ear.

“I think so” Tara is moving to press her lips against Mark’s when the door flies open.

“Absolutely not under this roof” Tyler barks, eyes throwing daggers at her sister’s boyfriend. “What does make you think I will let you kiss my sister right after you made her cry?”

Mark pulls away from Tara’s arms with such urgency that he nearly falls off the bed. She could’ve found it funny if she wasn’t so busy glaring at her brother.

“Were you listening to our conversation?” Tara forces a laugh, free of any true amusement. “Why are you acting like some creep?”

“Creep? I’m just protecting my little sister from-“ Tyler splutters, catching the way Tara is looking at him. “From some hormonal guy trying to take advantage of her”

“Just get out!” Tara reaches under her pillow for her wand and points it directly at her brother. There’s not even an ounce of hesitation in her eyes “I swear Tyler Lee…”

==============

“I’m sorry my brother is such a jerk” Tara says minutes later, apology evident on her face as she snuggles her head on Mark’s chest. They’re currently cuddling on his king-sized bed, surrounded by dozens of ridiculous pillows Mark has accumulated over the years. The Sound of Magic is playing on his state-of-the-art movie system; an unnecessary waste of money, as Jane had described it since he barely spent time in London, but one of the very few things Mark never hesitated to splurge on. After all, Tara liked watching movies and he enjoyed cuddling her on any normal day.

“You don’t have to apologize for that. He was actually kinda sweet earlier when he threatened to turn me into a toad if I didn’t go there and apologized to you” Tara gaps at that, looking at him with through slit eyes, so Mark is quick to add “which I was going to do anyway without angry brother involved. Well, Jae was already angry and involved, but you know what I mean...” He corrects himself, rambling about his older brother and patting Tara’s shoulder.

Both of them laugh at that, but then Mark sits up slightly and looks down at Tara.

“Speaking of what, Jason told me to look at the last picture in the album, but I forgot to. What’s so important about it?” Marks inquires, an eyebrow going up.

Tara’s eyes widen “You didn’t watch it yet?”

Mark shakes his head a “no”.

“You have to” She rolls eyes at him, moving to pause the movie just before Julie Andrews teaches the Von Trapp children how to “Do Re Mi”. “Now” She orders, pushing Mark off the bed.

Mark groans, but he ultimately gets up and crosses the room. Heis wearing plaid pajama bottoms, a white t-shirt, and rounded glasses. He looks so soft, Tara wonders how she ever believed, even for a second, that he could do anything that hurt her.

“I can’t believe you didn’t see the picture” Tara clicks her tongue when he picks the photo album from the bookshelf. “I thought you went to see me after recalling the good old times”

Mark says nothing, he only shifts the pages as Tara comes behind him and wraps her arms around his chest, tiptoeing to rest her chin on his shoulder. When he reaches the end of the album, he finds himself laughing shakily and blinking rapidly.

“Yo, where did you find this?” He turns to see Tara smiling brightly. “I thought your mother- wow, T. I can’t believe-“ Mark rambles barely making sense. He can’t believe Tara had recovered the first-ever photo they had taken together. Particularly because they had been convinced Tara’s mother had gotten rid of it when she attempted to erase all of Tara’s childhood memories. “I-” Mark’s fingers run over the photo, memories of that day suddenly surfacing in his mind. The picture had been taken on a day trip to the local zoo when they were barely four. Tara is sitting on a bench kicking her legs in the air, dressed in a tomboyish outfit that contrasts with the girly bag hanging from her shoulder. At her left, Mark is holding her hand, standing next to a monkey cage. Under the picture, in neat capital letters in pink ink, Tara had written: “Forever yours”.

“Forever yours” Mark recalls those words. They were part of the confession he’d made on their first trip to the beach together. It was the summer before he moved to Seoul and the first time he saw Tara in 6 months. They had carved a huge heart into the sand and decorated it with shells and pebbles, embossing their initials in the center and promising to love each other for eternity.

Tara says nothing. She waits for Mark to make a move and predictably, seconds later he places his hand on each side of Tara’s arms, rubbing small circles. “I am forever yours” In normal circumstances, Tara would be ready to clown the cheesiness of his words, but she only giggles, wraps her arms around his waist and lets Mark press his lips against her own.

It’s like coming home.

***

#tara #mark #story #tyler #otp #oc

3 notes · View notes

ticklikeabomb · 5 years

Text

The Language of Limbo - Part 4

Pairing : Chris Evans x Plus Size Reader ; Marvel Cast x Plus Size Reader

Warnings : Language ; Angst ; Mention of drinking

Word Count : 2.7k

You sprinted out to your trailer and ignoring Hemsworth's calls in the process. Once you got inside your safe space, your leaned against the door and let yourself slide down, crying your heart out, a mix of emotions going over you : sadness, disappointment, anger, shame. Your mind kept replaying Rebecca's word on a loop and you lost it completely until you eventually fell asleep on the couch. You were woken up by knocks on your door. You sighed heavily not wanting to face anyone but the person behind the door was persistent. You opened up not bothering in cleaning the traces of your sadness. Elisabeth entered in your trailer and without a word hugged you. A fresh new wave of tears cascaded down your face while she was rubbing your arms in support. "I heard the news, I'm so sorry Y/N." You nodded, hiding yourself from her. "The cast is also worried but wanted to give you some space. They send their regards to you nonetheless", she continued slowly.

You sat down on the couch and took a deep breath before exclaiming, "God this sucks." She sat beside you, comforting you. "It does. I don't know what came over the ones in charge, you were doing so good. I don't understand. Now we have to reshoot the scenes all over again", she told you. "Months of preparation and hard work and I didn't even get the chance to prove myself", you replied with a cracking voice. She grabbed your face and looked into your eyes, "Listen to me Y/N, you are strong and will nail the Shield agent part. I know you will, so show them what they lost." You nodded and hugged her tightly. "Thank you Lizzie." She wiped out the remaining tears and told you that RDJ was hosting another get together for the newbie. "I know it's delicate but it would be good if you were present." You shook your head, "I'm sorry I can't. I won't be able to be there and act like nothing happened. Rebecca, she…", you said but cut short to it. "She what Y/N?", asked Lizzie. "No nothing, it's nothing. I can't go, I'm sorry and besides I have work to do in memorizing the new lines." She nodded in understanding and left. "If you need anything you know where to find me." You thanked her again and saw her leaving.

Meanwhile during RDJ's get together

Just like they did to you, Scarlet and Mackie showed Rebecca around while doing small-talk and trying to get to know her. "I guess you will have to catch on fast on all the fighting moves for the scenes?", remarked Mackie. "Oh I think it will not be so difficult, I'm a fast learner and in good shape, I'm sure I'll know all of it in two days' time", she replied all smiling. "Ohhhkay", replied Mackie slightly taken aback by her assurance. They arrived at Downey Town and the rest of the cast greeted her. Elisabeth put on a her best fake smile while doing so, smile that caught the attention of Rebecca, who saved that expression for her future plans. She asked about the shooting so far and felt particularly intrigued at one of Robert's remarks. "I'm curious how you will top Y/N's chemistry with Chris." She gave him a skeptical look and asked, "What do you mean?" The older actor cleared his throat and replied back with a teasing smirk, "Y/N and Chris are love interests in the movie and their chemistry showed onscreen because it was already flawless offscreen." She scoffed not believing her ears. "Well it's a good thing that she won't play Chris's love interest anymore, since I'm Y/C/N now. I'm not afraid, I like a challenge, if we could call that one." "You seem really confident there?", mumbled Hemsworth from the other end of the table. "I know my strengths and what I want in life. Once there's something I want, I'll do everything I can to obtain it." Some actors nodded, not understanding the whole meaning of her words. "That's a good philosophy", replied Mark with a smile.

After a while, she set her plan in motion. "I don't want to overstep or anything, I mean you've been around her longer than I have but I don't get why you're all praising Y/N so much. I mean, I met her the day they revealed us who was casted and had some time to chat with her and she just seemed extremely rude to me." The cast frowned at her words, not really believing her. "Nonsense, Y/N is one of the sweetest people I know", counterattacked Elisabeth. Rebecca gasped and said, "I'm sorry I didn't mean to cause trouble or implying anything, it was just my feeling at that moment, the way she talked about some of you and all." The last part caught everyone's attention. "What do you mean 'talked about some of us'?", asked Tom cautiously. She shook her head and said, "You know what? Just forget that I said anything. I don't want any drama or whatever. I just want to be part of this already established family and do good in the movie." The rest of the cast looked around at each other thinking about her words, some not entirely sure if they should believe her since they've spend time with you and saw that you weren't like that. At the same time, some others began to question themselves, because they didn't know you for long.

Elisabeth was fuming, seeing an outsider not only take the place that was rightfully yours but criticize you on top of it. "Thank you Robert for diner. I'm going to bed", she said before abruptly standing up and leaving the table. "She seems upset", said Rebecca with her best sweet voice. "Yeah, she's friends with Y/N. I don't think your little comments from earlier made her happy", announced Jeremy. She bowed her head in fake shame but was mentally smirking. "I'm really sorry it wasn't my attention", she whispered with a cracking voice. "Hey let's not worry about that. Think of it as a new start, focus on your job and everything will go fine", comforted RDJ in a fatherly manner. She nodded and thanked him before excusing herself and call it a night. "I planted the seed, now I'll have to wait until the little bees come and collect their nectar", she mumbled proudly to herself once in her trailer.

It's been a few days since the recasting. You would either stay inside your trailer, hit the gym to let some steam off or spend time at the small cafe around the corner, going over your part in the script. You began shutting everyone out one by one because you were trying to focus on how you wanted to embody the tech agent without turning it into a complete cliché. The more you stepped back the more Rebecca used it against you to get closer to the cast and have them on her side. She began dropping hints here and there about your absence and how antisocial you were.

One day, she took advantage of Elizabeth not being present to criticize you. "It makes me wonder if she really cared hanging out for you or because of how much she could gain in being associated with you", she said once when they were on the lunch break. "Why are you always talking bad about her?", asked Mark slightly annoyed of hearing her complain all the time. She swallowed harshly and put on her best innocent act. "I'm just frustrated. I know she hates me, she has made it clear but it just annoys me that she talks shit about you but when she's in front of you, she acts all friendly and all. Her hypocrisy makes me sick." It was Chris (Evans)'s turn to speak up. "You keep saying that but do you have any prove of it."

She scoffed annoyed before bursting out, "I know she keeps asking questions about your personal life for example, just like a stalker would. You must be blind to not see how smitten she is about you. It doesn't only revolve around you but goes beyond. I was drinking some water after a scene and saw a phone churn on the table. I recognized her phone and a certain Scott Evans was texting her. I suppose it's your brother", she finished. Chris clenched his jaw in anger, not believing you would go that far to get to him. "Is it true? Did you noticed it too?", he asked around him. Some of the actors seemed uncomfortable because it was indeed true that there was a time where you would ask them about Chris and his personal life. "It happened once or twice", revealed Scarlet. Rebecca saw the glimpse of the prominent fracture occur in front of her eyes and pushed it further. "And other things she does. I overheard her once on the phone when I was walking to my trailer, where she was criticizing you Scarlet, saying that she didn't know how people could be so dumb and believe in your talent. She said you were just a body and with no talent behind. It clearly shows how jealous she in fact is. Or when she said how you Mackie should shut the fuck up already because your jokes weren't funny at all", she rambled while pointing at them. "And let me not start with what she said about you Robert." "It's enough, I don't want to hear about it", he replied not interested. The thick air surrounded the cast, Scarlet, Mackie and Chris fuming about what they just heard. Chris stood up angrily and walked away, isolating himself in his own trailer, thinking about what he should do with all these information.

Today was your first scene as the Shield agent. You walked out of the makeup trailer and marched to the set. When you arrived you saw that they were still filming a scene and not just only a scene. THE scene, where Steve and what was supposed to be your character, would share their first kiss. You saw Rebecca launching on Chris's lips and it made you sick. "It was supposed to be me", the thought crossing your mind. You bowed down your head before taking control of your emotions and focus on your part. You left your phone on silence next to your chair and went over your lines one last time. "Y/N? you're up", you heard one of the Russo brothers shout. You stood up, leaving your script and phone on the chair and got in position to shoot your scene. While you were shooting a scene between Mark and RDJ, Chris sat on his own chair who was beside yours. He was taking a gulp of his water when the reflection of the screen beside him caught his attention. It wasn’t his intention to look at it but when he saw his brother's name, he paled.

From Scott Evans : Hey Y/N, how are you? How has it been going regarding Chris?

His blood began to boil and he clenched his jaw in fury. "So it is true", he quietly mumbled to himself. You finished your scene and head back to your seat. You noticed Chris looking angry and frowned. "Everything alright?", you asked him. "We need to talk !", he spat. You were taken aback by his hostility and before you could answer, he stood up and walked away, leaving you dumbfounded. The small altercation didn't go unnoticed by some of the cast and especially Rebecca who was biting on her lip in order to control her grin. "The fuck", you whispered to yourself. You continued your work the best you could but Chris's expression and tone he employed were always on your mind. During breaks, Mackie would make jokes but because you were thinking about the altercation, you wouldn't laugh. "Jeez, apparently some do think my jokes suck and instead of telling it to my face, just prefer to be fake", he said while looking directly at you. You didn't caught the meaning behind his words but it still sting a little to you. The day was over for you and left the others behind who still had two scenes to shoot.

Elizabeth approached Mackie and asked him what was his comment about. "Nothing, forget about it", he just replied before turning around and rolling his eyes at her for defending you. She walked to Scarlet with a frown and the blond actress asked her what was going on. "I don't know, I feel like everyone is just being cold with Y/N and I have no idea why", mumbled Lizzie. Scarlet cleared her voice before commenting, "I don't know, maybe Y/N isn't who she pretends to be." To that, Lizzie looked at Scarlet in the eyes and with an annoyed expression, "What is that supposed to mean?" Scarlet sighed not really in the mood but eventually told Lizzie what was going on. "That's why we're keeping our distances. Chris found out today that she's indeed in contact with his brother and that the main topic of conversation was Chris." Lizzie gasped not believing her words. "Come on Elizabeth we know you're friends but you're not that close. You've worked together, what, 5 years ago. People change and besides it's not like it's a close friend of yours. She might be using you too", declared Scarlet. Lizzie was lost, not knowing who to believe in. It was indeed true that you weren't that close. If it wasn't for Aaron she probably wouldn't even know you but still she found it hard to believe.

You were finishing putting on your clothes when harsh knocks were heard on your door. You quickly buttoned your jeans and put on your sneakers before opening the door and seeing Chris stand in front of you. "Can I come in?", he asked with a firm voice. "Ehm sure", you replied with a frown. The air was thick and uncomfortable. "So what do you wanted to talk about?", you asked. He sighed before looking angrily at you. "I don't know why you've been asking around about me but I don't like when people put their nose where they don't belong, especially if it involves my family." Your mouth opened in shock and your face was burning in shame. "Wha-what?", you whispered. "I know you've been texting my brother about me and I also know you've got a thing for me." He walked closer and you took a step back, the movement making him stop. He took a deep breath before declaring, "You and me. It's never gonna happen, so stop stalking me. Don't talk to me ever again and stay away from my family !" You stood there in shock and felt the silent tears sliding down your face. "Get out", you whispered. "What did you say?", he asked. You gulp harshly, "Get out ! GET OUT ! GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY TRAILER"!, you shouted in despair, pushing him out. His eyes went wide and he almost tripped while exiting. You smashed the door on his face and felt on the ground, crying, deeply hurt by his words. Mason who was on his way to your trailer, saw you pushing Chris out of your trailer, a crying mess and he had to control himself to not launch on him and punch him in the face. He followed Chris until he was out of sight and his eyes landed on Rebecca who was hiding in a corner, smiling proudly. He promised himself to dig into it and have an eye on the one he immediately felt a bad connection with.

You took your phone, wrote Scott a small and vague message before deleting his number. You cleaned your face and got out, heading to the cornerstone. Once you arrived at the aisle you were looking for your gaze fixed for a long minute the bottle of whiskey in front of you. You grabbed two bottles along a bag of chips, so that the cashier wouldn't find it suspicious. You payed him and grabbed the bag before quickly heading back to your trailer. You took the groceries out and opened the first bottle, taking a large gulp from it. Burning your throat, the liquor gave you the comfort you needed. You kept on drinking until you couldn't stand on your feet. You opened the second bottle and drank from it until it was half empty before passing out on the floor.

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