#FUCK OFF IM FIFTEEN MINUTES LATE TO MY DATE. EAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[paterson-blue]

Honey, You're Familiar (Like My Mirror Years Ago); Part 3

Part 3: The Date

Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3 I Part 4 I Part 5

Summary: Things don't go exactly to plan. Clyde stresses.

Word Count: 4,010

Warnings: fluff, spice, grumpy Clyde Logan, pouty boy (but he's still in love), sentimentalism, sickly sweet pet names, smoochin', grindin', oral sex (male receiving), cum on body (not in!), original female character–let me know if I need to add anything else!

A/N: Thanks again to @paper-n-ashes for being my beta reader & quelling all my writing jitters. You're the absolute best!

Prefer AO3? I gotcha!

It’s a fuckin’ disaster.

Starts out nice. Juniper shows up on his doorstep wearin’ a slinky little black dress, one that shows off her curves and makes Clyde’s mouth go dry. She tells him he looks handsome and he feels giddy. He sweeps his newly styled hair out of his face, sayin’ she looks absolutely stunnin’. Juniper beams, grabs his hand, tells him they better get a move on ‘fore they’re late.

They’re late. They’re later than late.

They aren’ five minutes outta town when lightenin’ starts to streak across the sky. Clyde shifts uneasily, eyes cast upward towards the swirling heavens. It’s rainin’ cats and dogs in no time and Juniper has to slow to half the speed limit to drive safely. Clyde’s thoughts go to the river up ahead, the one the road crew was still tryna’ re-stabilize since the last storm flooded it.

Fifteen minutes from their destination and they have t’pull to a stop on the highway, suddenly blocked in a jam. Flashin’ red and blue lights indicate an accident up front, and while Clyde spares a thought to whoever was involved, he can’t help but check the time. They aren’ gonna make their reservation, he just knows it.

The car behind ‘em lays on its horn, the sound makin’ both Clyde & Juniper jump. The driver either doesn’ seem to understand the concept of bein’ stuck or plain just don’ care. Clyde clenches his jaw, glowerin’ into the rear view mirror—he can only see the driver’s silhouette behind the bright glow of the headlights. He’s keepin’ his cool until the driver reaches his arm out, in the pourin’ rain an’ all, just t’give Juniper the finger.

Clyde’s unbucklin’ his belt quick as can be, chest heavin’ as he reaches for the door handle. He’s ‘bout ready to stomp to the car and yank the man out.Teach ‘im a lesson on manners, teach ‘im t’treat a lady like—

“Clyde.” Juniper stops him in his tracks with just his name on her lips. He looks over at her from under his hair, expression tense. She reaches up to caress his cheek, holdin’ his face in her little palm so sweetly, thumb brushin’ over the sharp line of his jaw. “Leave him be. It’s not worth gettin’ into trouble.”

Clyde deflates, honey brown eyes downcast. He sounds miserable when he speaks. “… We’re gonna miss dinner.”

“I know, sugar. It’s okay.”

His heart flutters in his broad chest despite his distress. She’d called him ‘sugar.’ He likes that; wants to hear it again real soon.

By the time they get through all the traffic and make it to the restaurant, their reservation is indeed gone, table havin’ been given away. They stand together just outside the building, under the little awning in an attempt to stay out of the rain.

Clyde huffs, so morose that he’s unable to enjoy the way she was pressed up against his side. “M’sorry.”

Juniper frowns, reachin’ up to pat his stomach gently. “You stop that. You haven’t done anything to be sorry for.”

Clyde shakes his head sadly, heavin’ out a sigh. “It’s the Logan Family Curse.”

She looks up at him, brows arched, her hand still settled on his belly. “Oh is it now?”

He nods, brows pinched together. Juniper reaches for his hand, pulling it to her lips and pressin’ a kiss to his knuckles. “You aren’t cursed, Clyde Logan. And if you are, I’m perfectly happy to be cursed right along with you.”

Clyde doesn’ quite know how to respond to that, but luckily, he doesn’t have to right away. Juniper moves her lips to the pads of his large fingers, kissin’ ‘em gently before lettin’ him pull his hand away. Clyde cradles her pretty face in his palm, takin’ the time to admire her. Finally, he speaks. “Thank you, darlin’. That’s mighty nice of you t’say.”

Juniper nuzzles into his touch, sighin’ happily; it makes Clyde feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

“I’m only saying what’s true. Now c’mon. I know it’s a Friday night but there’s bound to be somewhere we can eat.”

They end up findin’ an old fashioned drive-in burger place, somewhere they can park and eat in the car out of the rain. It’s not where Clyde wants to take her; she deserves to be wined and dined all proper, not greasy burgers and milkshakes. But Juniper doesn’ seem to mind; as soon as they’re parked she’s squintin’ up at the menu, a big smile on her face.

“This all sounds so fucking good.” She giggles, lookin’ over at him. It makes the disappointment in Clyde’s chest fade away, and he leans over the center console to peer out the window to see what choices they were offered. It puts him in her space, and Juniper leans in to press a gentle kiss to his temple. He blushes, his cheeks only getttin’ hotter when she brushes some of his hair out of his face. He desperately wants to kiss her but he doesn’ know if it’s the right time.

He’s finally acceptin’ the night’s change of plans—finally acceptin’ that this might be good, burgers and fries while dressed up nice, watchin’ the rain pour from the safety of Juniper’s little Corolla—when the carhop comes out to tend to them. Clyde’s already diggin’ into his wallet as Juniper rattles off their order; he holds his debit card out, arm reachin’ over Juniper’s lap.

The carhop doesn’ move for the card. Instead, they say “Card machine’s down. Cash only.” in what Clyde thinks is possibly the most bored tone they could muster. He tries not to bristle as he fumbles with his wallet for a second time, patience already worn thin from the night’s events. He’s only got a fifty in his billfold. The fifty.

Their fifty.

He hesitates, even though he knows it’s irrational; Jimmy always did tell him he was too damn sentimental for his own good. Juniper must realize—she always does, Clyde never seems to have to explain himself to her—because she grabs her purse from the floorboard. Clyde stops her, shakin’ his head as he tugs the fifty dollar bill out. “S’alright, darlin’. Y’told me t’save it for a rainy day.”

Juniper’s face softens at his words, and Clyde hands the money over to the carhop, who looks like they want to be literally anywhere else. Soon Clyde’s been given his change, and he quickly puts it back up. As soon as he’s done Juniper’s reachin’ for him, pullin’ him in by his collar. Clyde goes willingly, twistin’ in his seat to move his prosthetic to the middle of her back, arm wrapped around her.

“I’ll give you another one.” She tells him firmly, and Clyde huffs out a laugh.

“Well that’d be awful silly of ya, Junebug. You’ll run outta money real quick if y’keep givin’ it all t’me.” He tries to soothe her with a joke, wantin’ to let her know that it was alright. Sure, it had been special to him—reminded him of their meetin’—but it was just a piece a’ paper. What was a piece a’ paper when he had the most important thing right here in front a’ him?

He wants to curl up further into her, but their positions don’t allow for it—the vehicle doesn’ exactly allow for him to move his long limbs much a’ anywhere. If this was as close as he could get, he was satisfied. Juniper shifts suddenly, eyes trained on him as she leans closer. They share a breath, then two, and then she’s pressin’ her mouth against his.

It’s nothin’ if not chaste. Clyde gets the feelin’ she doesn’ exactly want to neck in the front seat of her car like teenagers—at least not in plain view of the drive-in’s staff and other patrons. Just a gentle kiss, a little more than a peck; firm and lingerin’ just enough that he knows it happened. Juniper follows it up with another one at the corner of mouth, their noses pressin’ against one another’s cheeks.

It’s more than enough for Clyde; more than enough to get his pulse to sky rocket. He can’t remember the last time he’s been treated so gently, so much love in such a small movement. She gives him a smile when she pulls away, and they both sit back in their seats, starin’ all heart-eyed at one another. She takes the metal of his hand in hers, holdin’ it, and Clyde thinks maybe he should reconsider the whole curse thing.

They head back home after finishin’ their meal, the storm slowly peterin’ off as they get closer to Clyde’s trailer. Juniper walks him to his door, gigglin’ when she offers him her arm to escort him. He takes it, grinnin’ like a fool as they stomp up the front steps. They stand there under the yellow porch light, humid heat surroundin’ ‘em. Clyde usually hated the humidity, but not when it was like this, creatin’ such a hazy, intimate bubble around ‘em. Juniper drops her arm, but only to reach for Clyde’s flesh hand, holdin’ it in both of hers.

“I had a really nice time tonight, Clyde. Best date I’ve ever been on—and I mean that.”

Clyde can feel himself blushin’, a pleased smile turnin’ his lips up. “I had a good time, too. Wouldja—wouldja wanna do it again? Sometime soon?”

“Yes.” She answers almost before he can finish askin’, and they both laugh. There’s a beat, a pause, a breath, and then Juniper is leanin’ up the same moment Clyde’s leanin’ down. It’s a relief when their lips touch, like the first drink a’ water in the mornin’. Clyde thinks he’s been parched his whole life and never even knew it.

Juniper’s the one who deepens it, the one who drops his hand to lean into him, to thread her fingers through his thick hair, holdin’ him close. And fuck, Clyde isn’ gonna fight it. He wraps his arm around her, prosthetic against her back as his hand moves to hold her face. His palm envelops her cheek, thumb under her chin to keep her head lifted. They kiss and kiss, and when she makes a little whine in the back of her throat Clyde swears he’s floatin’.

When she pulls away to breathe he makes a sound of his own, a disappointed little groan that she huffs out a laugh at. He’d be embarrassed if she wasn’ nuzzlin’ her nose against his cheek like she can’t get enough.

“Those lips a’ yours aren’t fair.” She murmurs, and Clyde hums, strokin’ his thumb along her jawline. He doesn’ want this to end, he thinks for possibly the thousandth time that night. He doesn’ wanna let her get back in her car an’ drive across town, over the train tracks, past the antique shop, until she gets to the bed & breakfast.

He wants her right here, and he’s never been the one in this position, but he doesn’ hesitate when he asks her, “D’y’wanna come in?”

She nods, and it sets his chest aflame. They straighten up, untanglin’ themselves from one another even as she leans into his side, not wantin’ t’be too far. Clyde’s hands shake as he unlocks the front door but he doesn’ care if she sees. He wants her to see, wants her to know what she’s doin’ t’him. Maybe then...maybe she won’t leave.

Clyde flicks on the lights, closin’ the door behind both of ‘em. He watches as Juniper assesses his things: his clumsily cleaned living area, the small kitchenette that was (thankfully) decluttered. The hallway leads back to the bathroom, and then his bedroom, but Clyde doesn’ dare look towards it, much less lead her that way. Instead, he steps towards the fridge, hand reachin’ out to brush against the door.

“Want anythin’ t’drink?” He asks, voice quiet, as if nervous to disturb the silence. Juniper shoots him a smile, shakin’ her head as she perches on the couch.

“No, I’m okay, thank you.”

Clyde nods, lingerin’ there even though he doesn’ want a drink neither. Her eyes look him over, amusement showin’ in them.

“Why don’t you c’mere? If you want, of course.”

He wants. Oh, how he wants. So he goes, movin’ across the distance between them in three long strides until he can sit himself next to her. He’s stock straight, heart thrummin’ in his chest; his nice button-down feels all tight against his skin, too itchy. He thinks only her touch’ll soothe it, but doesn’ wanna ask her. Juniper, however, reads his mind; she always can. She smoothes a hand over his jean-clad thigh, leanin’ in ever so slowly, like she’s gonna startle him if she moves too fast. Clyde’s breath catches in his throat as she kisses him again, and it's heaven, it's heaven.

It’s different from in the car, from on the porch. This time there’s more purpose to it. Juniper’s kissin’ him—tastin’ him— like he belongs to her, and Clyde thinks maybe it's because she knows he does. He’s tryna’ angle his body just right, tryin’ t’lean down without puttin’ a crick in his neck. Not that he’d care much, if he did--a crick was worth this, worth the feelin’ of her tongue brushin’ against his bottom lip, against his teeth.

Juniper makes a frustrated little noise, pullin’ back, and Clyde’s brows furrow in confusion.

“Wha--Wha’s--?” He stammers out, flesh hand flexin’ on her waist, the silky fabric of her dress feelin’ so soft and cool against his skin. Juniper’s lips are plush and kiss bitten; Clyde tries to take a picture of ‘em in his memory, eyes trained on their pretty color. He almost misses her question. Scratch that, he does miss her question; has to very ineloquently say “huh?” to get her to repeat it. She ducks her head, voice shy.

“Can I, uh--get in your lap?”

Shit. Shit. Clyde nearly feels dizzy for all the blood rushin’ down south. It makes him a little self-conscious; she’s not gonna want t’sit on his lap and have his cock pressin’ into her all demandin’ like. But damn, his little Junebug looks so eager, her eyes darker than he’s ever seen ‘em, and like he’d said: he wants. So he just nods, barely breathin’.

Juniper shifts, pushin’ him into the back of the couch and he goes easily, willingly. She hikes her dress up her legs and Clyde gets a barely there peek of dark green lace before she’s straddlin’ his lap. He moans, can’t fuckin’ help it, and Juniper dives in to capture the sound with her mouth. Her hands are on his face, in his hair, fingers rubbin’ the shells of his ears—he’s surrounded, he’s drownin’, suffocatin’. He’s never felt so alive.

His own hands are placed chastely on either one of her hips, though he knows his flesh hand must be grippin’ her somethin’ fierce. The thought flashes in his mind, of him leavin’ little fingerprint shaped bruises on her skin for her to feel the next day. It makes him shiver underneath her.

Juniper takes and takes, and Clyde lets her. Clyde wants to be taken, in whatever way she’ll have him. Suddenly she’s pullin’ away just enough to suck in a little air, lips still brushin’ against his. He presses his long nose into the soft skin of her cheek, breath hot between them. When Juniper speaks, her voice is strained.

“Touch me, Clyde. Please.”

He doesn’ hesitate. His good hand moves from her hip to her ass, grabbin’, kneadin’ as he pulls her tighter against him. She lets out the prettiest noise Clyde thinks he’s ever heard, and his lips find her neck as his other arm comes around to hold her close. God, she tastes so good; her perfume fills his head until he feels dizzy with it.

She's pressed flush to him like this, grindin’ her hips against his. Clyde’s hard and leakin’ in his brand new jeans and the only thing he can think of is hearin’ her little noises again. Her hands are back in his hair, pullin’ at it, sweepin’ it away from his face so he doesn’ get tangled in it as his mouth makes a hot path down the neckline of her dress.

It feels so damn good that Clyde doesn’ realize she’s tryin’ to get his attention until she yanks on his tresses, his scalp burnin’ from it. Honestly he thinks he groans, rough and wild in his throat, the pain shootin’ straight to his cock. But it makes him look at her, and she holds him from divin’ back into her skin.

“Clyde I wanna—I wanna taste you. Is that okay? Can I?”

Lord Almighty above. That should be his line, it really should. But how can he argue with her? He’d give her anythin’ she wanted, anythin’. And she wanted—wanted to put her mouth on him. Clyde spares a thought for all the trimmed and proper men he’s seen in porn, how much nicer they looked, how Juniper deserved the best. West coast mean surely didn’ look the way he did. But then,“Yes,” he’s sayin’, voice ragged, “yes.”

And she’s slippin’ out of his lap onto the floor between his legs. Clyde’s heart pinches, and he leans forward to pick her right back up. To say “oh, darlin’, y’don’ need to be on the hard floor like that. Lemme stand an’ you c’n sit right back on these here pillows.” But before he can get his legs under him she's pressin’ her face between ‘em, nuzzlin’ into the scratchy fabric of his jeans, right up against his cock. Clyde’s brain short circuits.

“Been wantin’ this.” Juniper murmurs, small hands workin’ at his belt, and Clyde arches his hips up, tryin’ t’help her get his jeans off. He can’t believe this—can’t believe this is happenin’. She tugs his jeans and pants down his legs, just enough that his cock is revealed. Clyde clumsily unbuttons the first couple buttons at the bottom of his shirt, not wantin’ to get the new fabric messy. Juniper seems to like his idea; she sighs and leans forward to press her lips to the bare skin of his stomach.

“Sweetheart.” Clyde whispers, voice all trembly. He stretches out a little, givin’ her more access to his pale abdomen. Her lips are so soft against his skin, against the dark trail of hair leadin’ down, down, down. She follows it, nosin’ to the crook of his thigh, teeth scrapin’ deliciously ‘fore she turns her attention to his cock—already plump and stiff, and very interested in her ministrations. She wraps a hand around it and Clyde’s breath catches in his throat. She studies his cock, gives it a gentle stroke, thumb rubbin’ at the velvety head.

“You’re so big.” Her voice is quiet, but it startles Clyde all the same—he’s been transfixed by the vision in front of him.

“O-Oh, I-m, uh—“

He’s attemptin’ to apologize—his first instinct, really. But his brain isn’t really functionin’ all that well, and then she’s leanin’ in to lave her tongue over his slit. Clyde groans, a sound comin’ deep from his chest as he zeros in on the pretty pink of her soft, wet tongue. Juniper hums as if she’s pleased, a little smile on her face, and then she’s slippin’ her mouth over his cock in earnest.

Clyde’s head drops back against the couch pillow, lungs strugglin’ to suck in air. Oh fuck, oh fuck, fuck—it felt so good. She was gorgeous, she was perfect, she was a fucking angel doin’ this for him. She couldn’ take all of him into her mouth but goddamn she was tryin’. It didn’ matter—even if she wasn’ usin’ her hand to make up the difference, Clyde thinks he could cum just from seein’ her there between his legs, her silky soft lips on his skin.

He moves with her—not in a way where he’s pushin’ her or askin’ for more, but in a way where she’s pullin’ him; she’s the ebb and flow of the tide and he follows her willingly. His back arches, toes curlin’ up in his boots; his prosthetic settles on top of her free hand where it was grippin’ one of his large thighs. His other hand is too busy grippin’ the couch cushions to do much else. He’s lost to it—to her—an’ he doesn’ wanna be found.

It’s over far too quickly, embarrassingly so—it even surprises him. He’s ridin’ the high of his pleasure and his orgasm hits him so hard and fast that Clyde barely has any time t’warn her. All he can do is make a frantic noise, her name garbled in his throat as he quickly tries to push her off a’ him. But it’s too late—he’s cummin’ the same time that she’s pullin’ away, and Clyde can only watch in an odd mix of both arousal and horror as his cum paints her chin, neck, and cleavage.

Juniper’s mouth is held open in a surprised little ‘o’ shape, brows arched, and Clyde feels fuckin’ humiliated.

“J-Juniper, darlin’, m’so sorry, I—“ He scrabbles behind him for the throw blanket layin’ across the back of the couch, tuggin’ it into his lap so he can clean his mess off a’ her skin. He’s quick to tend to the spend on her cleavage first, hyperaware of how close it was to the fabric of her pretty black dress. “I’m sorry, I tried t’warn ya but it was too—“

“Clyde, it’s okay.” Her voice is all raspy and Clyde bites back a moan at the sound of it. She was so fuckin’ sexy, fuckin’ flawless. He’d cum all over her, messy and wild, and she was still lookin’ at him like he’d hung the damn moon. She pulls herself to standin’, and Clyde’s gaze dips down to where her knees were all red from kneelin’. Just another thing he didn’ know he found hot until now.

“But I guess it’s a little dangerous to keep this on, huh?”

His gaze snaps up to her face when she speaks, and she’s wearin’ a grin, eyes alight. Then she’s twistin’ her arms around, wrigglin’ out of that cute little dress until it graces the linoleum floor. She bends down to pick it up, drapin’ it carefully over one of the kitchen chairs. She moves like it’s nothin; like the sight of her in her heels and underwear ain’ makin’ his cock try to thicken up again.

“Yer so beautiful.” He tells her, gaze trained on her as she walks back over to him. Clyde feels so small with her standin’ in front of him; feels vulnerable even if he was still mostly dressed. Juniper steps out of her heels slowly, placin’ them to the side before leanin’ in, restin’ her hands on the back of the couch on either side of his head so she can kiss him.

Clyde runs his flesh hand over her bare waist, down the swell of her hip, toyin’ with the band of her underwear. He doesn’t push it down; he won’t without her permission. It’s enough to kiss her like this, soft and lazy, feelin’ her skin underneath his. He feels all gooey and happy from his orgasm, even if it had come sooner than he’d have liked.

He sighs into her mouth, content; chases her lips when she pulls away. Juniper starts to work on the buttons of his shirt, and he sits up to help her ease it off a’ his shoulders. She folds it neatly, settin’ it to the side; Clyde forces himself to speak, tryin’ to get his brain back in workin’ order. “D’y’wanna—wanna go back to the bedroom? You c’n lay down and I’ll—I’ll take care a’ ya.”

He thinks he sounds all awkward and silly, but Juniper gives him a warm smile, and his insecurities fade. She was always comfortin’ him, whether she knew it or not. She places one last lingerin’ kiss to his lips before noddin’ at him. “I’d like that.”

______________________________________________________________

taglist friends!

@paper-n-ashes @glassbxttless @mariesackler @leatherboundbirate @millenialcatlady @jynzandtonic @peachyproserpina

[miamlfy]

Meant Nothing

 A/N: This is my first time writing a fic for Draco. Just so you know, I adore Draco but for this I made him a dick. This is kinda a no Voldemort AU, I wrote this thinking they're in their 6th year but no mention of Draco having the dark mark. This was barely proofread, apologies for any mistakes. I’m also TAKING REQUESTS, so please send them my way if you got any, Im open to writing for any character. 

Pairing: Draco Malfoy X Fem! Reader

Warnings: Angst, cheating Draco, slapping/mentions of slapping 

Word Count: 1,867

Enjoy! 

(Not my gif, credit to whoever made it)

Draco was different when you two got on the train back to Hogwarts for your new upcoming year. He didn’t send you as many letters during the summer and if he did, it was simple answers to whatever you wrote to him previously. You even asked him if he wanted you to visit him at the Manor but pushed that idea away saying there was things going on at home and it’s not like he didn’t want you to meet him parents, you already did. Narcissa adored you and thought you were perfect for Draco, despite being a half blood. You suspensions only became bigger when she sent you a letter asking when you would come over, shortly after Draco said they couldn’t have any company at the time. 

However, as the year continued, Draco began being more distant with you. He would forget to attend your meetings in the Astronomy Tower or if you two planned to study together in the library, he would just not show. The first time it happened you didn’t mind, people could be forgetful. When you brought it up to him during breakfast, he gave you an apology and told you he wouldn’t forget again. You smiled at his apology, thinking it was nothing and accepting his kiss.

The second time it happened, you were in the library sitting at one of the tables Draco and you claimed as yours. Small tests were beginning to arrive in the school year and both of you wanting to keep being on top for those classes, would hold small study sessions every Thursday. Draco was already fifteen minutes late, growing impatient you began studying alone. Your mind kept going elsewhere however, wondering where that boy was. You excused it again, thinking he forgot. 

When morning arrived, you entered the great hall searching for boyfriend. He was no where to be found, assuming he slept it. You pushed it into the back of your mind and began eating breakfast. 

Entering potions class, he was one of the first students to already be in class. Walking up to your shared table, you set your bag on top and began taking out your things for the upcoming lecture. 

“Did you forget about yesterday?” You asked looking up to him. 

“Uh yeah, sorry love. After class I went to my dorm and crashed.” You simply nodded your head at that, understanding. Happens to everyone, you thought. You noticed his semi messy hair and loose tie, 

“Did you also oversleep? I didn’t see you at breakfast.” 

“Yeah kind of, I also just wasn’t hungry.” About to question him on his appearance, Professor Snape enters the classroom and begins lecture. 

The two of you planned a date to Hogsmeade on Saturday, however when it was time to leave he was no where to be found. Sighing sadly, you decided to join your friends instead. Your friend noticed the disappointment in your face,

“Maybe he forgot Y/n.” She said, her words stinging you a bit. ‘Maybe he forgot’ those words kept repeating in your head all day during your trip. 

Fed up with his antics and forgetfulness you decided you would confront him. Arriving back to the common room, he was nowhere to be found. You asked his dorm mates if he was up in his room but they simply gave you a no and told you they didn’t know where he was. Feeling defeated, you made your way up to your room and slept off the day. 

The next few days it felt like Draco was avoiding you, anytime you would try to talk to him he would already be walking away or simply act as if he didn’t hear you. In any classes you had together he would sit far away from you. It was confusing, you did nothing wrong to upset him. If anything, he was the one making you upset. 

You woke up on Thursday morning, feeling quite miserable. Draco had yet spoken to you and it was starting to affect you. You didn’t rely on Draco but being together and speaking to each other on the daily for two years, only to be thrown to the side was not a lovely feeling. After getting dressed, you began walking towards the great hall for breakfast, hoping your boyfriend would already be there and you’d get a chance to speak to him. 

However, you noticed glances of pity thrown at you. You weren’t exactly popular but after getting with the Slytherin prince, people did notice you. You received glances before,  random people in the hallways but never ones that contained pity. Choosing to ignore them, you walked into the great hall only to have nearly everyone’s eyes on you, their eyes looking at you with pity, oh how much you hated that now. 

Looking towards the Slytherin table, sat Draco sitting next to Pansy Parkinson, snogging her. Draco was kissing Pansy right in front of everyone. You froze staring right at him, which he felt, as well as everyone else’s eyes. 

You felt your heart slowly break, piece by piece, as dramatic as it sounded but it was true. You felt your body unable to move, looking into Draco’s eyes hoping to see a bit of guilt or remorse but instead there was nothing. If anything, he looked proud of himself and it didn’t help that pansy was giving you a smug look as well. It took all the remaining strength you had to not walk over there and slap him but you knew better. Violence wasn’t going to solve anything, it was only going to make things worse, no matter how much he deserved it. 

Feeling utterly humiliated yourself, you walked out of the great hall. Deciding to hide in your dorm for the rest of day. You didn’t care about classes at the moment, surely your teachers would understand why you didn’t show, they were all there to witness. You winced at the thought that everyone saw you being humiliated and you couldn’t take anyone else’s pity. 

After what felt like hours of crying and taking a small nap, you got up from your bed and fixed up your appearance. It was Thursday after all and you were going to spend the afternoon in the library with or without Draco. Ignoring everyone’s stares as you walked to the library, you sat down at your regular table. You tried focusing, you really did but tears were threatening to spill again. 

“I’m sorry to bother you Y/n,” you looked up to who was speaking, it was Hermione. You two weren’t close friends but you also didn’t hate her much to Draco’s dismay, “and I know you want to be left alone but I also know you need a friend right now and I’m really sorry you had to see that git sucking face with Pansy. You don’t need anymore pity from people and I’m here if you want to talk, it’s not good to bottle things up.” 

You sighed shaking your head, “I appreciate it ‘Mione, but I want to be alone for now.” 

“Of course, I’m here for you,” she gave you a smile, “just so you know during potions, Snape made Draco work without a partner today and took off points when he potion went sideways. I think he may have a soft spot for you.” 

Gently laughing at that, you wiped the tears streaming down your face not knowing when they started coming down and thanked Hermione again. 

Waking up the next day, your eyes felt heavy. You didn’t sleep much the night before, arriving late from the library to avoid anyone still being in the common room. Deciding your pity party was over, you dressed yourself adding a few more accessories, making your hair look pretty and put on your favorite perfume. If you were going to confront him in front of everyone, you may as well look good doing it. 

You walked into the great halls with your head held high, walking directly towards Draco who once again was sitting very comfortable with Parkinson next to him. 

“Draco, I need to speak to you.” He ignored your presence, not wanting to deal with antics you made him stand by pulling him up by his collar. 

“Hey! What th-“

“Oh shut it,” you cut him off, suddenly feeling all eyes on you two, “you too Parkinson, don’t even start.” Pansy closed her mouth, who was ready to throw some insults at you, 

“You’re going to listen to me, Malfoy and you’re not once going to speak because honestly, I may slap you if you open your mouth.” Tears began welling up in your eyes not knowing whether it was because everyone, including the teachers, were looking at you or because this is your first time you were speaking to him for the first time in days. 

“How could you?! Were those two years worth nothing, was I not worth it anymore?!” You felt the tears spill but you didn’t care. 

“You met my parents and I met yours for Godrics sake, we wrote to each other everyday during the holidays. In your letters you wrote how much you loved me, I kept all of them. I felt so happy reading how much I meant to you and how I was yours. Was any of that actually true or was it all bullshit? Did I actually mean anything to you?” You stared into his eyes, waiting for him to answer, hoping to wake up and this would all be a silly dream. 

“No, I never loved you.” That completely broke you, you couldn’t hold yourself off anymore. You slapped him, ‘screw violence not being the answer’ you thought. He deserved it. 

“Fuck you Draco, I can’t believe I ever wasted two years of my life with you. I can’t believe I ever loved you! I hope you enjoy being with someone who only wants you for your last name,” you saw him rub his cheek which was reddening by the second, “I hope you enjoy the rest of your life being miserable. Have fun explaining this to your mother.” With that, you left the hall and made your way to the Owlery and send the letter you wrote to Narcissa shortly after. 

Dear Mrs. Malfoy, 

I regret to inform you that Draco and I have broken up, reason behind it was because he decided two years of being together it was no longer fun for him and began snogging Pansy Parkinson behind my back. I assume their ‘relationship’ began during the summer holidays. Maybe he invited her over without you or your husband knowledge. If you hear of someone slapping him, that was me, I apologize but I simply could not hold back. I do hope we can continue our tea and biscuits dates, as I truly miss those since we couldn’t have one this summer. 

All is well and hope to see you soon, 

Y/n 

As owls arrived the next day delivering mail to students, Draco was given a very angry howler from his mother which only made the rest of the students, mostly Gryffindor’s, roar with laughter at his humiliation.

[hubbytaeil]

hello! i've been into taeil lately, so i was thinking about requesting him with prompts 46, 55, and 93, if possible. thank you in advance! 🌝💛

Taeil + #46 What’s this between us?, #55 Ruin me, #93 Don’t tell your parents

genre: angst, friends to lovers to strangers(?)

word count: 1k7 (this is taeil’s fault I swear)

warnings: smoking, slightly suggestive

a/n: now im s a d lol, this is what happens after bing watching sex and the city

-ˏˋ⋆ ̥  prompts ( send in your requests if you want <3)

This could be a dream, and yet it feels more like a nightmare. When you walked into your go-to bar, like you always do every other Friday, Taeil was the last person on Earth you thought you’d run into. The place is packed and certainly there isn’t enough space for you to run away and hide so you decide to just stand next to the counter with your friends, hoping he doesn’t come up to you.  

“Well, look who it is.” your blood freezes in your veins. You turn around in your heels slowly, preparing yourself for what you should say. “Hi, it’s been a long time.” You had broken up with him years ago and you hadn’t seen him after that. You knew that he was working for some corporate in the city but that was it. You had never run into him, not even once. To be fair, you had pictured how your eventual meeting would’ve turned out many times before, however all your fantasies can’t exceed this exact moment. Talking to him feels unreal, like being teleported back in time, a time before responsibilities, anxieties and fears. “You’ve grown taller, I see.” Taeil looks up at you pointing at your shoes. You hear your friends giggling behind you. “And you haven’t lost your sense of humour.” “That’s my only charm, you know that.” He swings his gin tonic in a circle before taking a sip. “C’mon, we both know that’s not true.” You reply gently tapping your fingers on your glass of Chardonnay. It’s definitely hard to keep eye contact, something is keeping your eyes glued to the counter. Taeil can feel it too, as he adjusts his tie.  

Fifteen years ago

“What do you mean you broke my mother’s favourite vase?!” “Exactly what it means, y/n. Oh God, please don’t tell your parents.” “Well, I’m not taking the blame again! Why the hell did you bring your football inside the house?!” “I’m sorry-” “That’s it, I’m never inviting you to my birthday party ever again.”

Those were the kind of fights you would have; you were only thirteen, life had only just begun.  

The days were filled with stupid notes passed during Math class, making fun of each other at lunchtime, eating ice scream at the park. If anyone could’ve ever been your first love, it would’ve been Taeil. You joined the music club just to spend more time with him, but you never said a word on the matter. You have such a clear memory of sitting through hours of rehearsals just to hear him play the piano. It was just a mere crush, you thought, it would fade away eventually. Yet, even now, every time you hear someone playing the piano you are taken back to that sweaty auditorium, you are taken back to the first time ever you had ever felt anything for someone. You are taken back to him.

“Do you still play?” you ask after letting your friends exchange pleasantries with Taeil, introducing him as an ‘old friend’. Inevitably, when one of the tables was cleared, they asked him to join in along with his friends.  

“Sometimes, not as much as I used to. Do you still sing?” Taeil mocks you and you cover your eyes in embarrassment. “Oh God, no.” Your conversation reaches the ears of everyone at the table. “Y/n, you didn’t tell you could sing!” “It was a school thing, I was awful.” An echo of disapproval invades your ears. “Don’t believe her!” Taeil shouts slapping a hand on the hard wood as if to prove his point. You go on saying how Taeil plays the piano magnificently to shift the centre of attention.  

The night goes on between a few drinking games and ridiculous anecdotes about college. Suddenly you ask Taeil if he’d like to accompany you outside to smoke a cigarette. “Since when do you smoke?” he questions, his tone is not judgmental in any way. “I don’t really smoke...” you begin to answer as you try to light up the cigarette. A gentle wind is blowing so Taeil helps by cupping the lighter, you thank him with a nod. “...only when I drink.” you finish after inhaling. Taeil raises an eyebrow in disbelief before pulling out a pack from his pocket. “I guess that makes two of us.” You start to grin and you find yourself unable to stop. “What it is?” “Nothing.” you respond as your grin transform into a full-on laughter. Taeil glances at you and finally gets on the same track as you and joins you. “Man, we’re old.” he exclaims taking a deep draw. “I guess.” “But you haven’t changed much since I last saw you.” You mean when I dumped you. You shut down the little voice of guilt. “Really? I don’t think so...” “You’re still gorgeous.” all of a sudden, the atmosphere is heavier.  

Ten years ago

“I think I’m love with you, y/n.” Taeil told you after making love for the first time. You stared at him in disbelief, unable to wrap your head around the concept of someone loving you back, more than anything your middle school friend who you had known for so long. Even after confessing to him your feelings, him saying he felt the same, all your friends congratulating you because they knew you two would’ve ended up together, you still couldn't believe you were holding the boy of your dreams right in your arms. But when you’re eighteen it’s hard to accept love, even if we long for it with such ache. For a while, you two had your share of fairy tale. For instance, when he kissed you on the first New Year’s Eve you spent as a couple in a square full of people. The fireworks reflected in his eyes but you ardently affirmed how those were in fact stars.  

So where did you go wrong? Why did what you had grow cold one day? During college you realised something was off. You thought the distance between you and your boyfriend Taeil couldn't jeopardise your relationship. However, as time went by, the physical distance slowly became emotional as well, you two being so invested in your lives.There lied the problem, you were starting to lead different lives. The few times you two could meet it didn’t feel genuine, you were trying to act like the people you once were. But those two were mere ghosts at that point.  

“Taeil, what’s this between us? "During the Christmas break of your senior year, you finally sat down with him to have the so dreaded discussion. It went on for hours, but Taeil wouldn't hear any of that. “No, I don’t believe this.” “Taeil, we’ve changed. Everything’s changed and I don’t know if we can go on like this. I don’t want to ruin your life by chaining you up to me.” “Ruin me, I don’t care.” It was like running in circles. The fight burned out eventually, leaving you two exhausted. You both looked up and you knew. “So, it’s over?” you nodded, unable to come up with an answer. He asked you if he could walk you up to your car one last time and you let him. “You know I’m going to win you back one day, right?” Taeil had tears in his eyes but he managed to smile at you. “We’ll see.”

It’s getting late and the bar is slowly emptying. Your friends begin to take off as well, leaving you and Taeil alone. “Do you want to share a cab, y/n?” “Oh, no thanks. I live just five minutes away.” “Oh.” Taeil hesitates before speaking out again. “If you want, I can walk with you. Only if you want.” “That would be nice.” your answer is sincere, not only because you’re kind of scared of walking alone at night, but because you want to keep talking to Taeil. You want to hear about everything you’ve missed, anything at all.  

You start walking side by side into the night, two pair of hands in your respective pockets. Taeil makes fun of the weird noise your heels make when hitting the sidewalk. “Oh, shut up! You’re just jealous!” “Yeah, you’re right. Do you have an extra pair? I could use the few inches.” It definitely doesn’t feel like chasing ghosts anymore. No, you’re just two childhood friends picking up where you’ve left off.

“Okay, I’m going to pop out the big question.” “Shoot.” “Are you seeing anyone?” you knew it was coming, sooner or later. You run through your possible answers and decide that there’s no point in lying. “Absolutely not.” Taeil assumes a shocked expression. “Why so categorical?” he chuckles. “It’s just... I haven’t had much luck.” You go on, counting down mentally how much time you have before you reach your door. “Good.” Taeil says point-blank. You glare at him not expecting him to call you out like that. “Excuse me?” “That means karma is real.” You both burst out laughing yet again. “What about you, mister Karma? Are you dating anyone?” Taeil stays silence for a bit before looking at you dead in the eye. “Absolutely fucking not.”  

“Well, this is it.” You point at your door with you finger. Now you’re both facing each other in front of the stairs. You’ve reached the endgame, and you’re dying to see how all of this will end. “This was nice, y/n.” “It really was.” another break of silence and you feel your heart giving in. You know you both want to say something, yet it feels impossible to make the first step. “Is it okay if-” Taeil stops mid-sentence which sticks a dagger in your chest. “Yes?” you barely whisper, anticipating whatever he’s going to say. “Is it okay if we see each other again? I mean, not as... but as friends. Is that alright?” Those words bring you a kind of happiness you never thought could be felt again. You take a good look at your old friend. His eyes still sparkle and you thank whoever it is that brought him back to you. “I think we can arrange that.” You don’t what’ll happen next, but it doesn’t scare you. In the air there’s a feeling of expectation which you breath in as you walk up the stairs to your door. “Y/n!” you turn around immediately, Taeil is about to get inside a cab. “Remember what I told you!” and just like that you watch him disappear into the night. This scene somehow looks familiar.

Can it be that It was all so simple then? Or has time re-written every line? If we had the chance to do it all again Tell me, would we? Could we?

[babybottlepop96]

Home Again Chapter 1

Jean x Marco

Summary: Jeana and Marco have been friends since the tender ages of 5 and 7. They grow together and fall in love.... then Jean disappears.

Warnings: This story will contains mentions of past rape and abuse. The violence parts will probably be descriptive, but the rape will not be. There will be eventual smut further along into the story. 

~20 Years Ago~

"Jean, honey, this is mommy's new boss, Mr. Bott. He is the man who is going to help us, so I need you to be on your best behavior, okay?" The small five year old with ash blonde hair, dark brown undercut and honey golden eyes nodded his head as he stared at the tall dark haired man with dark chocolate eyes.

"Nice to meet you Master Jean." The man smiled down at the boy with a warm smile. "This is my son, Marco, he just turned seven a few months ago. Heard you enjoy dinosaurs and superheroes?" Jean nodded as he stared at the boy just two years older than himself with wide eyes, mapping out all the freckles along his tanned skin, milk chocolate eyes staring back into his own with a smile that could make the grumpiest of men relax. "Marco has a boatload of dinosaur and superhero toys, Marco, why don't you show Jean your room?" Marco smiled, grabbing Jean's hand and dragging him up the giant spiral staircase to the second floor.

Once inside the room, Jean's jaw dropped, the size of Marco's bedroom was bigger than his whole house combined. The ceiling was high with detailed trim along the edges, painted in a dark brown and a pale maroon shade of red. The bed was bigger than what any seven year old should have, a giant flat screen tv was mounted onto the wall across from the bed and games, movies and toys filled the rest of the room. "Do you want to play a video game? I have Spyro the dragon, Crash Bandicoot, Mario Kart?" The freckles kid asked, naming off games while setting up one of the many gaming consoles he owned.

"I… ummm.." Jean stood there nervously, rocking on his feet while twiddling his tiny thumbs. "I've never played a video game before." He looked up to see Marco smiling at him.

"That's okay! I'll teach you! We can start with Mario Kart, it's a multiplayer game, so I'll be able to teach you!" He smiled proudly as if he just won first place at the spelling bee.

"Oh, okay! Thank you!" Jean grabbed the controller Marco handed out to him with shaky hands. The two sat down on the squishy blue and purple bean bag chairs and started a game, Marco showing him how to pick his character, how to move and control the kart and how to throw the special abilities gained when hitting the boxes with the question marks.

"So, Jean, what's your favorite color?"

"Purple." Jean spoke as he tried to concentrate on what he was doing on the screen, still having a bit of trouble with the turns.

"Cool! Mines red!" Marco spoke as he gestures to the room around them. 

"Favorite food?" Jean asked, stealing a glance at the older kid next to him, he couldn't help but smile, Marco's smile was infectious.

"Spaghetti! Well, all kinds of pasta! Penne, ravioli, ricotta-"

"I thought ricotta was a cheese?" Jean questioned, he wasn't actually sure himself, he just knew that cheese was a luxury in his home, never having enough money most of the time for really fancy things like cheeses.

"Oh, yeah! It is!" Marco giggled, "I just really like ricotta cheese." Jean giggled too, this kid was alright. "You're my new best friend, Jean."

~8 Years Later~

"Will you just shut up, Yeager?" A thirteen year old Jean Kirstein, as calmly as he could, spoke with his fist balled up at his sides as he walked out of the middle school building.

"Come on, Kirstein, didn't your poor piss excuse for a mother teach you it isn't nice to tell people to shut up?" Eren, the school bully, asshole and dick, in Jean's opinion, insulted. That's when Jean's resolve faded into nothing and landed a swift punch to the tanned, unblemished skin, a crunch was heard throughout the whole parking lot. Eren fell to the ground but quickly regained his strength and landed a kick to Jean's guy. The wind was knocked from Jean's lungs, but his anger was dominant. He lunged for the bastard who insulted his mother, the only parent he ever knew who worked her ass off to make sure he survived, to give the douche-nozzle a good pounding, but warm, strong arms held him back before hos fist could collide with it's intended target.

"Jean." A warm voice whispered in his ear, Marco. He relaxed in the freckles arms but he was still livid. "Let's go." Then, he was dragged off to the black Chevy Impala.

"Is that your boyfriend Horse Face? Man, I knew you were fruity but seriously? You could do better!" Jean almost got out Marco's grip, but the taller, older teen had his grip firm and all but threw the teen into the back seat.

"Jean-" 

"No, don't start Marco! He taunted me about how I have to live my life, insulted my mother, then insulted you! He deserved to get his lights punched out!" Jean yelled, unshed tears forming in the corners of his Carmel eyes, threatening to spill any second. Marco just simply drew the younger into his arms and the driver drove towards Bott Manor. "He… he doesn't have to be so mean! I never did anything to him!" 

When they finally pulled into the Manor, Marco led Jean to his room, the same room they first became friends in eight years ago. The stuffed animals and small toys are now replaced with books, CDs and even more games and movies. Marco sat them down on the bed and neither spoke for a few minutes. "He was right, ya know." Marco finally spoke and Jean looked at him like he had four heads. "You could do better than me, if we were together."

"Marco Bott, you stop right there! No one could ever replace you! You are literally the best person alive! If I had the balls to kiss you I would!" Jean and Marco's eyes widened and Jean turned into a blushing, flustered mess. "Oh my god! I'm so sorry! I.. I don't know why I said tha-", but Jean couldn't finish, Marco's lips pressed firmly against his in a gentle yet passionate kiss that spoke thousands of words and so many feelings. 

"I love you Jean." Marco whispered as they pulled apart, foreheads still touching as both tried to regain their breath and slow their hearts. Jean cupped Marco's face in his hands and kissed him again.

"I love you too, Marco."

~2 Years Later~

Jean Kirstein, fifteen year old freshman at Trost High, walked through the park on his way home after work. He hates his job, hates working behind the counter at the local Taco Bell, hates that Eren works there too in the kitchen as a prep cook, hates dealing with annoying ass customers with snarky attitudes complaining that their crunch wrap supreme doesn't have enough sour cream. Well sorry, Karen, I don't make the fucking food nor do I determine how much sour cream goes on it. Today was a particularly bad day, Eren called off claiming he was sick when Jean really knew he was out with his "boyfriend" leaving him to prepare food and take orders. Then someone took a dump on the men's bathroom floor, didn't even try to aim for the fucking toilet! Just took a shot right there in the middle of the goddamn floor which he had to clean up himself while his manager bitched about him not doing his job at the counter. All Jean wanted to do was go home, talk to his boyfriend for a little before he eventually went to bed and got up early the next day for school.

It was a simple request that he wished for while the clock ticked by slowly. Jean was so into his own head, he never heard the footsteps coming up behind him until it was too late. A wet cloth covered his nose and mouth, his eyes widened for a second before the world faded to black.

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

"We have to find him!" Marco shouted at his father who was looking at him with a solemn expression. Marco paced back and forth in front of his father's desk, hands taking through his u kept hair. He has barely slept a wink since Jean vanished three days ago, his mind wondering about all the worst scenarios it could think of.

"We are trying, son, but we have no evidence of anything taking place. No struggle, no personal belongings, nothing to suggest anything has even happened."

"But Jean couldn't have just vanished into thin air! He wouldn't run away either! He loved his mom too much to just up and leave her and me…" Marco trailed off, thinking about his and Jean's time together over the last two years. Picnic and arcade dates, eating pizza and hot wings while they binge watched their favorite tv series at that moment, the soft and gentle kisses they shared between one another before they parted ways, always promising to text each other once they got home, letting the other one know they got there safe. That's the single most reason why Marco knew something was wrong. Neither of them forgot to send the 'im home safe and sound' text. Not once, in the ten years that they've known each other, did they miss sending that text. Even as children and Marco's father gave Mrs. Kirstein a cell phone as a gift to keep in contact, did they miss THAT text.

"Son, we are doing everything we can to find Jean. But we also need to think rationally, Jean might not ever be found." Marco froze at those words, Jean may be lost forever? He may never see those honey eyes, beautiful smile, perfect sketches and vibrant paintings painted by those slender pale hands and fingers? May never run his hands through those soft locks of ash and brown ever again? That's when Marco broke, he screamed and fell to the floor in a fetal position on the floor. His father looked at him with hurt in his own dark chocolate eyes, for him, his son and Jean's mother who was currently out looking for her only child as they speak. Don Bott rose from his leather chair and walked around the desk, kneeling in front of his son. He put his hand on his back and whispered a pained, "I'm sorry, Marco."

~10 Years Later (Present Day)~

Here he was, once again, at an underground auction. Mr. Bott hated these things, but he had no other choice, ever since Mrs. Kirstein passed away three years ago from a drunk driving accident, he hasn't been able to find someone who cleaned as well as she had. Every person he hired had an attitude or just didn't speak at all, always forgetting to dust the book shelves or take out the trash. So he relented and took up on Mr. Ackerman's suggestion to go to an auction. Getting there early to get a good seat, Mr. Bott, along with Mr. Ackerman, Mr. Braun and Mr. Hoover, the Dons of their respected parts of New York City, all sat down to converse while the auction for the…. Pleasure portion of the auction slowly came to a close. Mr. Bott cringed as the scum of New York bid money on these poor people just for the gratification of getting their dick in a hole.

"And now for our last and best prize of the night!" The auctioneer spoke as the Dons sighed in relief, none of them liked the idea of people being sold for pleasure as they themselves, tried for years to get it under control but never succeeding. "This one has been in the business for ten years, used and a bit rough looking, but this little beauty will be the best fuck you ever had. Clean and pliant, not a bad body either if I do say so myself. Number 54!" The announcer spoke as someone roughly shoved a young man out into the center of the room. The numbers flying from the crowd started pouring in left and right and it got the Dons wondering whom this "prize" was. "Three-thousand!" "Ten-thousand!" "Twenty Five-thousand!"

"Two hundred-thousand!" The crowd went quiet after hearing the deep booming voice coming from the front row.

"Two hundred-thousand! Going once! Going twice! Sold! To Do Bott!" The young man was then hauled out of the room to be prepped for leaving the facility.

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

"Dad! I'm home! Reiner, Bert, Mikasa, Eren and Armin are here too!" Marco called from the doorway as he and the others walked into the Manor. "Dad?!"

"In the living room son!" He heard his father call and the group walked towards the sound.

"What's up? We heard your voicemail and hauled ass here. What happened?" Marco asked as soon as he saw his father, eyes brimmed with tears and a small smile. The others in the room, specifically Dr. Yeager, looked at them, small sad but slightly happy smiles on their faces. "What's going on here?" The group looked at each other, confused and concern plastered on their faces. Once Mr. Bott moved to the side and gestured to the couch, it was then that the group realized what was happening. On the couch asleep, lay a thin pale man, dark circles under his eyes, bruises and scars and even some fresh wounds, now neatly stitched up thanks to Dr. Yeager, littering his almost naked form. Marco stared at the man laying on the pale green couch and tears flooded down his cheeks. "Jean?"

[vanchlo]

The Assistant / Chapter Forty-Three, “The One Where It Happens”

*Gifs not mine*

Clickable Links:

- *NEW* Becky Magazine Cover from an O.C. Tag Challenge

- Masterlist feat. all chapters and Character Surveys

- Inspo tag

- Hecky Playlist

- Read on Wattpad

Word Count: 12.3k words

Warnings: Sensitive topics

Music Inspo: Lay Down Beside You by Carl Storm (click to listen, this song is too perfect for this chapter)

                                         SNEAKYYYYY PEEK

I worry. I fear. I cry. I doubt. I struggle for breath. I grieve. I sob. I ache. Because I love. No, not loved. I love.

Love is what makes me want to go back to her, and cover her broken body with kisses. Love is what scares the living shit out of me, preventing me from doing that in this very second, because I’m afraid that I’ll break her all the more. Love is what sends the words tumbling off of my aching lips.

“‘m alright if yer alright, Becks . . . B-But ‘m not alright.”

Life has many ways of testing a person’s will - either by having nothing happen at all, or by having everything happen at once.

- Paulo Coelho 

+

Today had seemed like a dream, and I was unsure of when I’d get used to that, or when I’d get used to all of this. If I never did, I’d be okay with that, because she just keeps amazing me with every step I take. I never want this dream to end, if it is one after all.  

Speak of an angel, and there she is, I think. The thought races to the front of my mind, pushing all of the others aside. She’s always managed to be very good at doing that, I recall. 

“I’m gonna get going then,” she announces, clasping her milky 

white hands together in front of her after walking back into my office. 

A sad smile finds its way to my lips as I admire her, wishing I could spend the rest of my days memorizing every detail of her. The little tan birthmark beneath her eye that she doesn’t cover up anymore, much to my happy findings. The sparkle in her eyes, the left one scattered with more indigo flecks. The always waves in her dark chocolate hair. Her braided silver ring that I’ve never seen her without, always playing with it mindlessly. 

“Harry?” she hums. I blink, focusing my eyes back on her. 

Becks. My lovely Becks. Maybe even . . my girlfriend? Impossible although it had seemed, my lips reach higher elevations on my cheeks at the thought. I don’t let it run away from me, although I’m itching to let the question leave my lips. 

There’s always tomorrow for that, I decide silently as I adore the invisible inquisition toying with her eyebrows. 

“Alright?” Becks asks, taking another step forward until she arrives at my desk. 

“Ya, ‘m great,” I confess softly, pushing at the lip of my desk to get to my feet. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she ponders nervously, a fire sparking in her cheeks as I near her figure dressed in a sleek black pantsuit. A cream chiffon blouse falls under the hollow of her neck modestly, adorned by the opal necklace I haven’t seen her take off since our first date. Yet another confirmation that that night was real, and so is all of this. My bloody God, I wonder when I’ll ever be able to believe it. 

“I dunno,” I giggle, my hands finding their way into the conversation with a shrug of their own. “Jus’ so happy lookin’ at you . . You make me happy, Becks . . Very.”

The dimple finds its place in her left cheek again, and I know then that I’m fucked all the more. A similar sound flows from her lips, and I wish it didn’t have to come to an end as my palm slips into hers. 

“You make me happy too, Harry, so happy,” she titters, peeking up at me with those goddamn blue eyes. The very blues that could send me whizzing off into another oblivion, and I’d feel honored for it. I’m given just enough time to catch the glint in her eye, wetness sitting there in the corner before she looks away again. “Today made me so happy.”

“Me too, bug. I can hardly believe I get t’ do this e’ry day . . with you,” I snicker happily, tugging on her hand until my arms are surrounding her shoulders. 

“Neither can I,” she concurs, the words tickling the skin peeking out from my hardly buttoned shirt. A second of wetness tickles the skin there when my hand comes to cup the back of her head, pressing a kiss below my thumb a moment later. 

“Call me when ya get home, will you? We should FaceTime and watch anotha episode, if yer not gettin’ too sick o’ me yet.”

“Never,” she sighs, nudging my chin towards the sky when she lifts her head. It falls now, to find her moist blue eyes searching for me. It plummets further until my lips catch the hint of a tear at the corner of her eye, kissing it away. “I could never get sick of you.”

“‘s gonna be quite a long time befo’ I get sick o’ you, bug,” I murmur against her cheek, the traces of orange blossoms marking her skin. I can almost taste it on my lips when I leave a kiss there. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” she says, yanking my eyes to her grinning lips that I envelop with my own. A ‘good’ brushes against her pair between moments of adoring her top lip between mine. The tip of her nose leaves lazy circles drawn on my skin while I sketch my own onto her creamy skin. The moment couldn’t last long enough. I wish I could freeze it in time and enjoy it for longer before my lungs begin to burn for air. 

“Drive safe,” I whisper against her mouth, saying goodbyes into her hair with the motions of my thumb. 

“I will, don’t worry. I’ll call you when I get home, it shouldn’t take me even fifteen minutes to get there.”

“‘Kay, ‘ll talk t’ you soon then,” I smile, touching my lips to her button nose. “Boops.” 

“Now, don’t stay here too long, boss. You’re going to turn into a workaholic or something, Harry,” Becks taunts with her flushed lips drawing me in. 

“‘ll try not t’, that’s all I can promise.”

A laugh joins her answering nod before she surprises me with one last kiss, making me want to take back all of the words I just said, and spend a few more moments kissing her. Minutes, maybe. 

“Night, Harry.”

“G’night, Becks. ‘ll talk t’ ya later . . my love,” I divulge, enjoying the pink that rises in her cheeks at the mention of the simple words. Simple, yet oh so true. 

“Bye, my Harry,” she echoes, squeezing my hand one last time on her way out the door. Her azul blue eyes meet mine over her shoulder when she pulls my door closed, decadent lips curled into a smile just for me. Lips that I already want to have touching my own again, dark chocolate waves I want to be losing my hands in, and that laugh I want to be pulling from her lips. 

It’s never long enough with her, but I get to do today all over again with her tomorrow. The day after that, and after that. Stolen kisses in the copier room, her head on my shoulder while watching FRIENDS at my desk, those pretty fingers dancing along my tense shoulders, and a closeness between us that I’ve longed to have for so long. Too long. 

A closeness with her that I never want to lose.

+

The very last unanswered email is whisked away with a whoosh. Finally, I have that done. With it, it drags my eyes to my wrist that vibrates with an alert. A premature smile graces my lips until it falls at the sight of a different name, not the one I was expecting. 

“What’s takin’ her so long?” I mutter as my eyes flit over Myles’ text, some joke about firing me if I keep staying past five o’clock. 

“Bastard,” I sigh with a shake of my head, pressing my palm to the screen as the time repeats in my head. 

5:26 passes. 

Then, 5:36 passes too as I wait for her to reply to my texts, or to call.

Reckon she should’ve been home by now, having left at 5, I wonder silently, aware of the thrumming of my heart. I’m sure she’s just making something to eat. 

Yeah, Harry, that’s it. 

Why am I worrying so much? 5 o’clock traffic is a bitch, anyways. It’s what made me late to our date the other night, so I should know. 

“She’ll call soon,” I mumble aloud, crafting a quick text to her, adding to the others I’ve already sent her tonight.

i think today may have been my favourite w/ u so far ;) xo

hurry up slowpoke

rebecca ann ur slow. im kiddin. drive safe bug xo

Sighing, I turn back to my iMac where I already have the next episode of FRIENDS queued up, waiting for her. 

A new bloop! sounds when an email arrives in my inbox. Clicking on it, I begin to absorb the words until my office phone interrupts with a loud bringggggg! 

“This ‘s Harry,” I say automatically, and am answered with an eerie silence. A darkness trickles into my chest at the little sounds accompanying it. The pangs of worry return, demanding to be felt amongst the mix of it all. “Hullo?” 

“H-Harry, this is Skye,” a shaky voice replies at last. 

“Hi, what’re you doin’ callin’ me main line?” I joke, hoping to add a lightness to the atmosphere that so direly requires one. The fear threatening at my edges gains strength when I make out the likeness of it in her voice. “If yer lookin’ fer Becks she left half an hour ago, reckon she’s home by now.”

“No, s-she’s not,” she says. I hear it, and I immediately wish that I hadn’t. Denying it with a shake of my head, it doesn’t disappear that easily, the crack in her voice. “She . . d-didn’t make it home, Harry.”

“What’re ya talkin’ ‘bout, Skye? I jus’ saw her half an hour ago,” I contend, rushing through my words as my back straightens to full attention. 

“I know . . I just talked to her on the phone f-fifteen minutes ago, but Harry . . ,” Skye continues, words wandering away from her. They’re kidnapped by the tears that I finally acknowledge in her voice, and now echoing on the line. “S-She was in . . an accident.”

“What . . What kinda accident? ‘s she alright? W-Who told you this? That can’t be right, I jus’ saw her,” I argue, losing my footing quite immediately. 

Rising to my feet, the words are too close for comfort and my knees threaten to give out on me. A hand races to my hair, carding heavy strokes through it that tug hairs loose, but I disregard the pain. Another form of it demands to be felt inside of me, next to my heart that climbs in speed with every moment absent of words. An absence of Becks being okay. 

“I don’t want it to be real either, Harry, b-but an officer just rang me. H-He said a car ran a light and h-hit her . . not long after I got off the phone with her. It was right behind the driver’s side and . . it doesn’t look very good,” she reveals, sobs growing thicker in her voice. My feet run rampant circles around my office as my fingers tug violently at my hair. 

“This ‘sn’t funny, Skye, if yer pullin’ me leg,” I begin with a forced amusement, but it doesn’t make it very far. I don’t make it that far until I fall onto the sofa, my words crashing into loud sobs that steal my breath away. “I jus’ got her back . . I can’t lose her ‘gain,” the confession comes, drenched in tears that shake my body. 

“I know,” she agrees with echoing devastation as tears paint the inside of my palm clung to my face. “She’s been my best friend for t-twenty-one years, Harry. I-I can’t imagine my life without her, and I know she’d never want to imagine a life without you.”

My head shakes rapidly from side to side as the tepid wetness paints stripes down my cheeks, escaping from my eyes that I press shut painfully. Whimpers flee from my lips, the very ones that were just kissing hers thirty minutes prior. 

This can’t be happening. No, I can’t lose my Becks when she just found her way back to me. 

“No, no . . no, no,” I sob, each utterance becoming more indiscernible with the emotions consuming them. “Not my Becks,” I mutter, air escaping my lungs with such force that leaves me dizzy in the head. 

“She’ll be okay, she’s strong, Harry. She’s made it through so much other shit. N-Not this sort, but . . . she broke her leg riding bike one time when we were eight, and she was fine. S-She cut her finger cooking once and drove herself to hospital all herself,” Skye reveals, the trembling words doing nothing to calm my heart that I’m afraid may bound from my chest at a moment’s notice. 

“Strongest person I know,” I concur, a hiccup rattling my voice that fights for composure. “W-What’d they tell you . . ‘bout Becks?”

“They’re taking her to uh, King’s Cross hospital. Reckon there’ll be a waiting room I can meet you at while s-she’s in . . surgery,” Skye explains, and my head rushes up and down with nods now. I shakily get to my feet and take a step towards my door, but once again, I don’t make it far. A wooziness falls over me, and I grab the arm of the sofa just in time to recover. “They said they stabilized her and she was breathing and everything, b-but surgery was in order. Car was totaled, though. That’s not good . . No, that’s not good,” she cries, words falling harder and harder the more she goes on. With every one that she speaks, my sobs thicken and louden against the confines of my palm. 

“Don’t say that . . D-Don’t, she’s gonna be okay. She has t’ be,” I defend, wishing more with every second that I believed my own words. If the words themselves could wish it into existence, I’d speak them over and over until it came true. 

“I’m sorry,” she confesses breathlessly. “I’ll uh, meet you there. C-Call me when you get there. It’s the . . hospital on the west side of town, not too far from you, I reckon. She’s probably . . already there,” Skye finishes before the dial tone drills into my ears, and I’m left listening to my unsteady breaths. 

The phone plummets from my hand to meet the floor with a crrrrrunching sound, but I don’t even care. There’s so little I care about in this moment, because my thoughts are consumed by her. They’re racing, demanding, and making me sick. My chest trembles with another intense sob as my palms press against my eyes. Strands of my hair are taut around my fingertips, my scalp searing with pain. 

She’s become all I’ve cared about in these last few weeks, and it’s been magnified within moments now.

“No,” I cry, salt water dripping over my lips and plummeting from my chin. “Becks, no.”

Sniffling, it’s suddenly impossible to ignore the rock sitting in my gut. Jumping to my feet, my hands fall as I cross the room and fall to my knees harshly. The cold, granite tiles dig into my boney limbs as I retch into the bin. Grouting in the tiles leaves marks on my skin when I wipe the back of my hand across my mouth moments later. 

Sweat beads on my forehead as the room spins around me. Tears press harshly at the back of my eyes when I envision her standing in front of me, kissing me goodbye just moments ago, it seemed. Shakes overwhelm my body within seconds, and my knees kiss the tiles once more. The coolness is welcomed by my flushed forehead as I curl into myself, her smiling face captivating every thought I have while my body convulses with a new sob. It takes the last ounces of strength I can find to pull myself up to a kneeling position, then to plant one foot against the floor, and another until I’m standing. 

“‘m comin’, Becks,” I mumble, voice breaking from the first word. Wiping under my eyes, I rip open the door. Feet pounding down the hallway, I sniffle as another warm stripe cascades down my cheeks. A second and third accompany it when I pass her office, and I yank my eyes away, knowing that I can’t look. I’ll collapse to the floor again if I see her name sitting there on the door, waiting for her to return tomorrow morning. 

Patting my pockets hastily, I yank my ring of keys from the fabric only to drop them. Cursing, I bend down to pick them up before rounding the corner. I’m almost knocked off my feet by Myles who skids to a halt. Unbeknownst to me, I didn’t think I could be hurting more until I found the look that dawns on his face. 

“Hare, what’s wrong?” he demands, grabbing my bicep. 

A sob revokes my words and a hand flies to my mouth. Eyebrows falling, tears interrupt my voice as the explanation plays on a loop between my ears. 

“Becks, s-she . . ,” I try to say, but a shake of my head places a gap in between my words. “Was inn’a accident. I have t’ go t’ her . . tha hospital. I wanna be there when she wakes up, and-,” now, I cut myself off abruptly. Tears blur my vision, and soon I’m seeing stripes. A feeling surrounds me, and I find that it’s his arms crushing me in a hug. His name drops from my lips in a choked sob. 

“You’re not driving anywhere like this. I’ll take ya, Hare,” he murmurs into my ear, out of place back rubbing following his words. “I’m so bloody sorry, mate. Fuck, I just saw her when she left.”

“So did I. H-How can it be real? I just . . . I jus’ got her back, My’. She jus’ came back t’ me and we jus’ started datin’ finally . . I can’t fookin’ lose her all over ‘gain, not fer real this time . . I don’t think I could live inn’a world that she’s not in, Myles,” I confess into his shoulder, clutching onto him. My chest expands and falls against his, convulsing with every worst case scenario that sends tears flying from my eyes. 

“It’ll be okay.”

“Don’t fookin’ say that, ‘coz what if it ‘s not? What if she’s not okay? What if she . . d-dies, My’? I can’t-,” the words run away from me, and for once, I’m thankful for it. They’re drenched by too much reality, more than I can stomach.

I don’t remember following him down to the parking garage, or getting into the car. The next thing I know, my head is tipped against the frosty glass window in his BMW, the lights of London cloudy from behind my eyes. 

“I jus’ bloody saw her, and I kissed her and hugged her,” I whisper, watching the words fog up the glass, if only for mere seconds. A warm tear dives from my chin, crashing onto the v of my chest. 

‘I knows’ answer me back, as well as squeezes to my arms when I least expect them. It all runs into a blur - the traffic, snow fluttering against the windows, and the pounds of tears I shed into the air. Most of all, the thoughts running rampant within me hardly make much sense by the time we’ve parked. The one thing that’s clear as day is how my heart swells with bittersweetness when her face swims inside of my skull, and the love that pours out from it for her. 

I already know that I love her, and it only makes me hurt a million times worse. 

“She’ll likely be in surgery for a good while, it’s a rather long affair, Hare,” Myles announces as the automatic sliding doors open for us, greeting us with a burst of hot air. 

“I know . . Skye said she’s in tha waitin’ room erm, on tha second floor,” I respond, reading from my phone. My eyes fill with more tears as I swipe a finger under the both of them, sniffling. 

“Here, I see a lift.”

Relief ironically escapes me when we finally find Skye bouncing her legs up and down in a chair, arms wrapped around herself as she stares at the floor. It takes her a moment to look up after saying her name, but with her disarray of colorful hair, I reckon she’s the best person I can relate to on this entire floor. 

“Hey,” I whisper when I embrace her, surprising myself at the same time. A shy ‘hi’ fills my ears as her thin frame greets mine. Her shaking arms squeeze me around the middle, and I linger there for a few seconds than necessary before pulling away. “Has anybody came t’ talk t’ you?”

“No, not yet. I just checked in with somebody when I came in, and they said to come up here. S-So, I did, and the nurse’s desk told me somebody would come when they have news. Whenever that is,” she sighs, flicking a thumb below her eye to catch a tear that strays from her waterline. 

“D-Did ya call Robbie and her dad?” 

“Yeah, just now. Robbie should be here soon, and Chuck was just about to leave . . I figure he won’t get here until she’s out of surgery, even though we don’t know how bloody long that’ll take. But, he’ll be here i-in a few hours,” she answers, her voice catching on the last of her words. 

“I’m gonna go and find us something to drink,” Myles interrupts, nodding his head down the hallway. I mirror his actions, grateful for the offer as I clear my scratchy throat. It dried up the second those very words rocked me to the core. 

Silence ensues as I fall onto the lumpy sofa beside her, a telly across the room murmuring softly in the background. Magazines lie open in front of us on the wooden table, chairs and more chairs surrounding us. 

“I wish somebody would just tell us something,” she groans beside me, wringing her hands in her lap. A sob stills in her throat and I watch her face collapse along with it. 

“I can go and ask, ‘m antsy too. Only been here a minute and already I am,” I suggest with a tough swallow. The lump in my throat greets me again as she shakes her head ‘no.’ 

Folding my hands together, they come to sit against my mouth as I now bounce my knee. Eyes flitting in every direction, I will a nurse or doctor littering the halls to wander over to us with their bloody clipboard and lab coat. 

“Find anythin’ else out tho’?” I pipe up, dropping a hand and letting it squeeze hers. I’ve only met this woman a handful of times, and yet, I know that she’s the closest thing I’ve got to a friend here. She’s the only other person who could understand how I’m feeling right now, because she’s the only other person in this damn hospital who loves Becky too. At the same time, my actions are unprecedented and alien to me, this entire situation is. 

Tears arrive in my eyes as I wait for her voice to make a choppy return, “Just when I got here and checked in, s-so to speak, that she was in surgery. They didn’t say what for really, I suppose only the team working on- with her knows,” she explains, and now, I’m the one nodding. A long breath spills from my lips, and it does next to nothing to calm the thrashing of my heart, and the onslaught of my mind. 

The reality of the situation brings my head into my palms again where I spill silent tears, accentuated by the whimpers of my lips. My entire body shakes with every sob, every sob that yearns for my arms to return to her. My eyes to see hers again, those baby blues that now, I can’t stop imagining my babies having one day. That painful thought makes them come harder now while I struggle for air, lungs burning for other reasons now, like nonexistent children that I very well may never have with her now.

Fuck. 

I wish more than anything that I could be back in my office an hour ago, annoying her with kisses as she finished up an email. What I’d do to have my lungs burning in need of the air filling hers, and not for the air around me that may not even hold her life anymore. 

No, I can’t think like that. If I entertain that thought for a millisecond, there’s no going back. 

“You know, you’re her whole world and always have been. She couldn’t shut up about you lately, a-and all of your dates. When I spoke to her on the phone r-right before . . . she was saying how amazing of a day she had had . . with you. She couldn’t wait to do it all over again, she’s so mad about you, Harry. S-She even wrote you this letter once saying how she-,” Skye divulges, the words filling my ears. Instantaneously, they want nothing more than to spit them back out. 

“Don’t! Don’t say all o’ that. D-Don’t say it in past tense, or like she’s not . . g-gonna be able t’ tell me all ‘bout it. We can’t act that way . . She’s gonna be okay, she’s gotta be okay,” I insist into my hands, struggling for breaths. Lifting my head, I turn it away from her and towards the window, my lips squashed into a line. Briny tears drip over them as I squeeze my eyes shut tightly, hiccups finding their way into the air. 

“I’m sorry, I-.”

“I c-can’t talk ‘bout her like she’s- like that. I can’t t-think ‘bout her like that . . her not bein’ here anymo’,” I exclaim, shooting to my feet in order to change directions. 

I thought I couldn’t believe my life earlier today and the direction it’d taken, and now, I can’t believe it one bit. I don’t want to, and I wish I didn’t have to. I thought that I was living a dream today, and now, I know that I’m living a nightmare. I didn’t want to wake up earlier, but I need to now, more than anything. 

I want to open my eyes and find her curled against my chest, snoring peacefully with her body warming mine. Like last night, a moment I could live in for forever. 

A vibrating in my pocket barges into my thoughts, and I’m unsure whether to welcome it as I reach for it. The same ringtone by The Cure sings from around my wrist, and my heart only falls deeper when I see the name claiming it. It sends a wave of relief throughout my body, but it only lasts a few seconds. The only name that could make it permanent is far from an option, and here I am, still wishing for it with my own two eyes. I wish that she wasn’t in an operating room somewhere in this same building, and instead her voice was singing from my phone. That’s how it was supposed to be, anyways. 

“Mum,” I answer softly, steps halting in the hallway. A sob freezes in my chest at the thought of having to speak truth into the nightmare I’m living. 

“Harry honey, what’s tha matta?” my mum responds, worry rocking her voice. 

“‘s Becks. She-,” I confess, but I can’t say it. I want nothing more than to say something else. When she asks if she’s alright, I want to say yes, and it sends wobbles down my legs knowing that I can’t say that. I can’t say it, because I don’t know it. 

“It’s okay, love, take a deep breath.”

“I can’t,” I weep, a wail escaping my lips, muffled by my palm. The tear stained skin flies to my hair that I tug at, ignoring the throb of my head hitting the wall of the hallway. “I can’t breathe, mum . . I can’t not knowin’ if she ‘s okay.”

“Oh, darlin’. What happened to her?”

“She w-was . . . inn’a car accident,” I admit breathlessly, sucking in lungfuls of air that don’t do a thing. A fire still lives deep down inside of my chest, and it was born the moment I heard Skye speak those words. “‘m at tha hospital now waitin’ t’ hear sumthin.’ Her best friend’s here with me, but, mum. ‘m so scared . . that ‘m gonna lose her fer real,” I whimper, swiping my tongue across my trembling lips wet with tears. 

“Oh, Harry,” she sighs, my sadness mirrored in her voice. “I’m so sorry, love. Do they know the extent of her injuries?” 

“I dunno, all they told her friend ‘s that she’s in surgery. We’re waitin’ fer sumbody t’ tell us mo’,” I answer, hiccups stealing my words away from me. “I hate sittin’ here not knowin’, I should go and ask . . but ‘m afraid t’. Mum . . ,” I trail off, weakness overwhelming my body that sags against the wall. I’m not even aware of the people walking past me and the hush of voices, but I couldn’t care less. 

“Breathe, honey, please. Everythin’ will be okay. I know it doesn’t seem that way right now, but it will.”

“Ya can’t say that! Ya dunno if ‘s true,” I exclaim, anger seeping through in my voice, but it’s misdirected. “I jus’ want this all t’ be a dream, I don’t want it t’ be real. I can’t think ‘bout it . . ‘bout her . . dyin’.”

“Shhhh, love. I’m sorry.”

“No, I am. But, God, mum . . I love her. I already know I do. I know it sounds bloody mad seein’ we’ve only been on two dates, but-,” I begin, but she interrupts me, reminding me of where I get my love of it from. 

“No, it doesn’t sound like that, honey. I know how you’ve felt ‘bout her these last few years, she’s been all you could talk ‘bout,” my mother says, and the only relief that I’ve seen is offered in her voice. 

“I love her, mum, and she m-might-,” I try to say, but I can’t spit those words out. I don’t think I ever could, and my desire to avoid them for the rest of eternity trumps all else. 

“Do you think she feels tha same way ‘bout you?” she asks calmly. A huff passes my lips, and I breathe in through my nose slowly. It doesn’t make a difference when a melancholy wave knocks me over. 

“Y-Ya . . I think I know she does now,” I whimper, my voice drowning in the tears. 

“And does she know how you feel ‘bout her, Harry?”

“Ya, reckon she does. I haven’t been able t’ stop lovin’ on her since our first date. And n-now . . I may neva get t’ kiss her ‘gain or hug her or . . ,” the sob leaves more trails of tepid tears on my cheeks. My thumbs press against my eyes, willing the tears to abate, but they don’t obey. Not one part of my body has obeyed my commands since I heard those nightmarish words. 

“Then it sounds like she has somethin’ to fight fer, love. It’s not tha ‘end all be all,’ but tha will to live is a powerful thing, son,” she tells me, the first licks of ice calming my feverish heart. 

“I hope yer right.”

“I’m your mum, I’m always right,” she quips, and the first hint of a laugh graces my lips. It’s gone as fast as it came, stolen away by another round of whimpers shaking from my lips. 

“Everythin’ will be okay, son.”

“And if they aren’t, and . . . she d-doesn’t make it, mum?” I sob, the words finding their exit between sobs that rip from my chest. Pain soars through the tear at the uttering of the words that I have to acknowledge, and wish that I never had to think. 

“Then mumma will be there att’a moment’s notice fer ya,” she replies, and I wish I didn’t hear the crack in her voice. It’s the very one that tore open the slit that the tears poured out through. This all started with the crack of a voice. “Lemme know if you want me to come, Harry.”

“B-But I jus’ got her back, mum. I can’t . . She can’t . . ,” I fail once again, and this time, I’m okay with it. I don’t want to ever have to say that word again, I’ve already uttered them one too many times. 

“You’ll never lose that love ya had, Harry. Trust me, I know ya can’t. I miss Robin every bloody day, but his passin’ didn’t take away our love or tha memories we made . . I know that your love with her only jus’ started, but ya had somethin’ special. I can already see that, darlin’, and you’ll never lose tha memories you made with her, and tha love that ya made together . . Think of those happy times ya had with her while you’re waitin’ for her to be outta surgery. After that, ya should get some rest, love. Sometimes surgeries can take long, and that’s okay, ‘cause you want tha doctors to be thorough and to do all that they can fer her. And they will do all that they can to save her, Harry . . It’s almost six o’clock, love, and even after her surgery is done, it takes a while to come outta anesthesia. It’ll be a long night. Try to get some rest, son, I’m sure she’d want you to,” she explains to me, and suddenly, I wish I could get a hug from my mum. 

The thought propels me into others, wishing I could hide in the arms of another. She’s always been my very favorite hiding place, and another wave rocks through me at the thought of never getting to escape to her arms again. Her smell sends my heart spinning as I drop my phone back into my pocket, aching to have her hair tickle my nose with the scent. Placing my palms against my eyes slick from crying, I hiccup in between tears. Uneven breaths pour in and out of me, and for a second, I can remember the traces of her weight in my arms. The smell of her orange blossom shampoo, the taste of her cherry carmex chapstick, and the strokes of black and gray ink along her wrist. 

“Becks, please be okay,” I mutter underneath my breath. My scalp sings with pain when my fingernails dig into the skin, making me realize this is all real. It’s not a dream that I can wake myself up from, because my life became a dream and then fell away into a nightmare. 

“Harry!” somebody calls my name. I don’t know how much time has passed, standing there in the corner of the hallway pouring my eyes out into my hands. 

It takes a few moments for my eyes to focus ahead of me, and for a fleeting second, her face appears in front of them. Blinking hard, I rub a knuckle against my eye, and she’s gone in a flash. Instead, I find Skye waving me back over to the chairs where a tall man in navy blue scrubs stands in front of her. 

“Coming,” I answer, clearing my throat as my feet remember how to work. The tingles that had settled into my sleeping limbs disperse as I take long, hurried steps until I’m at her side again, trying to forget the words she had said earlier. 

“Is this everybody?” the man says, tanned arms crossed over his chest. 

“No, wait!” another voice pipes up, and I spin around to find Robbie rushing towards us. “I-I’m her brother,” he continues, voice shaky with emotions. His eyes briefly meet mine before he stops at my side, engulfed by a hug of Skye’s. 

“Hey,” I mumble when he pulls away with a nod, his fist brushing along one of his cheeks. The greeting is difficult as my eyes are met with pain and striking similarity. Her very same baby blue eyes sit before me, as well as the wavy dark hair, and a distorted version of her lovely facial features. 

“Hey, Harry,” he returns, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat after his words. 

When his wet eyes meet mine, more unspoken words pass between us including ‘thank you’s and silent understandings. My squeezing grip is met by his taut arm when I watch the shiny tears fill his eyes. He nods back at me, quivering lips absent of words while another tear breaks free from his Holte Blue Eyes. Those goddamned eyes tear another rip into my heart at the mere sight, drudging up the wishes they conjured within my mind just last night. 

Styles babies with Holte Blue eyes. 

Please, God. Please let that still be a truth. 

“Now that we’re all here, I’m Jack. I’m sorry for the circumstances we’re meeting on, but I’m a nurse on your uh, family member’s team. Rebecca was in a serious accident, and we’re doing all that we can. She went into surgery around ten minutes ago, as soon as she got here,” the towering man explains, achieving the closest thing to quieting my mind. I’m just afraid that when he stops talking, my skull will be vibrating with more thoughts, and far worse ones. “She suffered some fractured ribs that unfortunately pierced her spleen, causing internal bleeding. That is the most urgent of her injuries, but rib fractures are incredibly painful. They can make it hard to breathe deeply or to cough properly, sometimes leading to chest infections. In the accident, she also fractured her ankle, but we’re not entirely sure of the extent of it. Due to the impact of the other car hitting her and the location of it, her right arm was broken and . . Grade 2 concussion . . amnesia,” a cloud passes over my ears then, and I turn away, soon falling into a nearby chair. 

Worst case scenarios bloom within the attic of my body, spewing tears onto my cheeks. Waterfalls cascade down them, fueled by the replaying of the man’s words between my ears. Fractured ribs. Internal bleeding. Chest infections. Amnesia. Broken ankle. Concussion. Broken arm. The tears come harder at the realization of every word, and how they laden my heart with further darkness. It falls into the recesses of my chest with each passing moment, the obscenities that left his mouth acting as the anchor that yank it down, further and further. 

I don’t hear my name the first few times, or register the hand on my shoulder. Swarms of possibilities that I can’t welcome lift me from my seat and down the hall once again until I repeat the past, and ram shoulders with Myles. My eyes fly to his surprised face, but it’s ephemeral before he’s pulling me against his front, and his hand is pressed against the back of my head. 

“She’s gotta be okay,” I plead into his shoulder, finding fistfuls of his blazer in my hands. “B-But internal bleedin’ . . amnesia . . broken bones . . a concussion . . infections. My’, I can’t do this,” the revelation feels prickly on my tongue as I fight to flight. 

“You can do this, Hare. You have to. Becky, she- she needs you to, mate,” he insists, hands waving stripes against my back. I shake my head back and forth into him, refusing to believe any of this. 

“No, this can’t be real. It can’t. I jus’ saw her, I jus’ kissed her and hugged her,” I weep, repetitive begging pouring from my tongue. My hands let go and I push at his chest for escape. He only holds me tighter within his steely arms, and I make out the first of his tears. “I shoulda told her that I loved her, I dunno if she knew. I shoulda told her,” I relent, my body becoming pliant against his. 

“She knew, Harry. I think she knew, mate . . You showed it to her in so many bloody ways, you didn’t have to say it. She knew it, she saw it. You’ll get to tell her, and hear her say it back,” he tells me, but my head hasn’t stopped shaking in denial. “Her friend over there is almost smiling, I think. The nurse is too, it looks like maybe it’s not so meek after all, Hare. It looks like she might be okay.” 

“This ‘sn’t funny, Myles, I swear t’-,” I wail, breaths filling my lungs and refusing to remain. A ‘no’ fills my ears, and I’m forced to turn around when he pulls away at the sound of my name. Yet, he’s not the one saying it. 

“Harry!” Skye calls, and her hurried steps follow her voice. Smearing the tears from my eyes, I gulp and find the bravery to look up. Becky’s best friend in the whole entire world stops in front of me, eyes rimmed with red. “They sound hopeful,” she reveals, the smallest spark of a smile sitting at the edge of her lips. Robbie stops a step behind her, shoving hands into his pockets while a tear falls from the slope of his chin. 

“Really?” I croak, stepping away from Myles until his arms fall from me. She answers with a nod and a rosy smile blooms on her lips before my eyes. 

“Yeah, they said her vitals are becoming more stable which is good. They’re amazed that her injuries weren’t worse, they said that she got lucky,” she explains, and it sounds like music to my ears. The first good thing I’ve heard tonight, albeit this whole affair only taking up the last hour of my life. It’s felt like days on end, not mere minutes. “I’m gonna go and call Chuck to tell him.”

My nod answers her words and Myles leaves with a pat to my back, “I’m gonna go and check on coffees again, maybe food later when you’re feeling like eating,” he announces. My hand finds its way to my curls once again, surely free of snarls now after the number I did on them. 

“It’s good to see you here. Well, not good given the reason why, but you know what I mean.”

Looking up, I find Robbie’s bleary blues pointed at me. I do all that I can, and that’s a nod. 

“You too,” I manage at the last moment, patting his arm awkwardly. His feet wander back over to a line of chairs, and I follow him. Falling into the one left of him, a hushed silence surrounds us. 

“Did she ever tell you that she has ‘feelings’ about things?” Robbie mutters, a sniffle interrupting his question at times. 

“Ya,” I sigh, my bottom lip numb from my teeth pressing into it from all directions. “Good and bad feelings.”

“Yeah . . I got one that I couldn’t shake tonight,” he reveals. His eyes flooded with glassy tears surprise me again, and I almost see her sitting in front of me. A memory from one of our times at the hospital threatens to break loose from the confines of my mind, but I hold it back. “So I rang her, she was just leaving work . . with you. She sounded so happy, and I couldn’t figure out why I’d gotten it. Now, I know . . ,” he finishes, an ironically melancholy laugh bringing his revelation to an end. “Twin intuition, I guess.”

“Ya,” I mutter again, unsure of what else to say. I can’t figure out what to think sitting here in my puddle of tears, let alone something something to fucking say. 

“I hated hearing that bloke say those things, detailing all of the shit that happened to her,” Robbie notes aloud, and I find that I can’t tear my eyes away from my hands when I hear the unmistakable sound of tears letting loose. “But I mean . . it helped, and I think I have a feeling she’ll be alright.”

Conflicting tears run races down the slopes of my cheeks, drenching my eyelashes with liquid sadness. It does little to calm the hammering inside of my chest, but the mannerisms of hers I hear in his voice magnify it just slightly. The brash taste of iron spills across my tongue, and I release my bottom lip from its grasp, but it’s too late because the blood is flowing. My hands blur beneath my eyes, the shocks of baby pink and pastel purple burning in my eyes. The very fingers that she held between her own so delicately just last night, swiping the nail polish brush over their naked canvases. Every other is a different pastel wash of color, and I can still picture the bright yellow and teal that I had painted on hers. 

The warm metallic taste concentrates on my taste buds when my lips press together harshly, few salty tears finding their way into my mouth with my new sob. 

“Yer sista, she- I-,” I stop quickly, not even sure of what I’m saying. I could tell a thousand stories, but I can’t decide which one is right. 

“I know, believe me,” Robbie insists, and at last, I glance over to him. Her dark chocolate locks fall over his forehead, longer than from the first and only time I met him at my firm years ago. The fringe tickles at his eyes, and he pushes it out of his face. “You have something else, you two. I’ve only been telling her to jump your bones for the last two or so years,” he divulges, and a laugh so out of the ordinary adorns my lips. It sputters to a stop, feeling wildly inappropriate, but it comes back to life when a similar one echos from beside me. 

His eyes meet mine briefly, and hold me there looking into her blue eyes as we chuckle together. It doesn’t necessarily feel right, because it feels oh so very wrong. When that thought worms its way into my attic, the sound floats away from the both of us quickly. 

“I heard it all, you know. Your story’s out,” he tells me matter of factly, but the sarcasm can’t find a place in his voice. It falls away, forgotten. “I told her it was about goddamn time you two started dating. She should’ve listened to me sooner, but no, she’s too fucking stubborn.”

“Yer tellin’ me,” I hum, running the pad of my thumb over the glossy nail polish. If I focus hard enough, blocking out the ringing of the phones and Skye’s hushed voice, I can hear her laugh in the recesses of my mind. Laughing about messing up my pink thumb last night, alarm raised in her honey-like voice. “‘m not much betta, ‘m afraid. I didn’t even get t’ ask her on tha first date, she beat me t’ it.”

“I heard . . That sounds like her, always gotta be in control. She had to do everything first when we were little. Talk first, walk first, ride a bike without stabilisers, or graduate bloody uni first,” Robbie remarks, dragging the sole of his Old Skool mustard Vans along the edge of his leftie. “I dunno how she’s gonna fair having her dominant arm in a cast, she’ll throw a fit.” 

“Oh, I know. They betta make it purple,” I comment, and he snickers beside me, the tears still falling although silently. 

“She’ll make them do it all over again if they didn’t do it right the first time. It better look all perfect for Ree.”

His tears drill into my ears, yanking at my heart, but a small relief accompanies them. He’s not using past tense, and although hardly noticeable, it makes this bearable. I’ve spoken to the bloke only once in my life, and she was there beside me then, but I find it easier with every second. Save for the moments I peek at him and see traces of her painted all over him. They aren’t bleeding twins for nothing, I admit quietly, even noticing them wearing the same brand of shoes. A pang attacks my heart when I see him spinning the braided silver ring around his middle finger, and too quickly, I could picture it being hers. 

“D’ya think she’ll . . ,” I begin, but it feels wrong from the start, and I wish it’d never begun. With a shake of my head, I pick off a piece of purple nail polish from my pinkie. The action ricochets around in my chest, and I blink hard at the searing action. No, I can’t, because there’s a chance that she won’t be there to fix it. 

“It sounds rubbish, but our feelings are always right, Ree and I. With our dad, her with you, and me knowing something was going to happen tonight. Now, I think it’ll be okay. Stupid, I know, but I just do. I-I can’t . . . can’t think about her not being okay, she’s my . . . twin sister. I don’t want to think about it,” he confesses in between scattered tears, words growing thick and indistinct. 

“Neitha can I,” I admit, my chest falling at the end when more tears break loose from their gates. “She can’t leave, n-not this early. There’s so much I want with her still. She’s made a damn good lawyer already, and I know she’d make a betta mum and-.”

“She will, there’s nothing she’s not good at,” Robbie concurs with a sad smile adorning his face. I blink, and it’s gone as soon as it had come. “She always got back up after she fell too, on our bikes, ice skating, or even with leaving uni and then going back. Working at your firm too, you could even say. I just- I really want to believe that she’ll get back up from this too.”

“Me too . . mo’ than anythin’,” I agree aloud, shuffling my gray rose ring up and down the length of my finger as I picture the flower that adorns her wrist. “I need Becks t’ be okay.”

+

Phoebe and Joey flit across the screen in front of me, laughs and smiles shared on their faces. My head falls at the realization that those are the furthest things I could feel right now, or do. Licking my chapped lips, another tear graces my tongue. They’re fewer now, however long it’s been that I’ve been sitting in this chair. Asher waits with wandering eyes a few seats over now, and somehow, I’ve only said two words to him. It sends crashing pain through my insides to look at Robbie, her literal twin, but when I look at Asher, avalanches of grief fall inside of me. 

The images in front of me spark memory after bittersweet memory, and they try to whisk me away to a time where I was sitting in a chair like this and she was at my side laughing. Shaking my head, I find it in my hands once again, their three voices murmuring off to the side while devouring subs with Myles. 

Somehow, it’s already late. The sky is pitch black outside, and the stars twinkling somewhere that I can’t find. My eyes droop and yawns leave me occasionally, but sleep couldn’t be further away. If it was knocking at my door, I’d ignore it then too. There were few updates, and each one sounded more hopeful, but I’m afraid to get my hopes up. I’ve done that far too many times concerning her, and nine times out of ten, it left me broken. I hope that I can curb that if maybe I don’t get excited, and yet, saying goodbye to the hope fuels the fire killing me off on the inside. 

I want to turn it off, but I can’t find the remote. I wish I could turn all of this off, but I don’t know how. I can’t let myself fall asleep. No, not until she wakes up, and they just left minutes ago saying she was done in the OR after a successful surgery. I was surprised by how little it had phased me, seeing how Skye jumped to her feet and Robbie was all smiles. Myself though, I couldn’t seem to find one anywhere. I can’t find him. Me. I felt Myles watching me, and worrying. I knew she would be doing the same thing if this was all different, and I couldn’t count how many times I had wished for that truth by now. 

I wished that this could all be different, and alas, here I am too scared to believe it could be. The fear debilitates me with every waking second to believe that things could be okay. I’m so afraid to believe that she’ll be alright, because this all seems so sick and that it changes with every corner I turn. 

The rest of the episode passed before my absent eyes, and then Skye was coming back from seeing her in Recovery. Tears plastered her cheeks now, more than before, and they didn’t shy away from mine either. 

“You should go and see her,” she said, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I’ll be honest, i-it’s awful seeing her like that, b-but . . . it’s her. She’s okay.”

Words flee from my lips, replaced with an adamant shake of my head. I can’t even meet her eyes, because the only ones I can see are Becky’s. Now, I try to push them out of my head as I stare at my feet, the splashes of pink and purple begging for my attention. The color I so deeply crave is only within her eyes, and with a whimper, I try to will the image back to me. I fail, and the tears fall harder down my cheeks, making me wish I could be peppering kisses along hers. 

I’m on my feet before I know what I’m doing, or where I’m going. The instructing words from before repeat between my ears, pulling my feet around a corner and then another. They take me left, and then right. A long hall appears in front of me, and then I’m searching the walls. Numbers climb and climb until I find the very ones I’m looking for. A sob splashes against my palm when it comes to my lips, pressing hard against my mouth. 

208, it reads but that’s not what I see. 

February 8th is what I see staring back at me. The day of our first date, only three days ago. How in the hell has it only been three days since? How in the living fuck has it only been three hours since all of this has happened? 

My feet freeze in their path, and I ignore the nurses and doctors passing me, zig zagging from room to bloody room. Beeping wanders into my ears, and I painfully wonder which one is hers. Which one of those beeps is from her heart? Will it come to an abrupt stop and bring people rushing to her? Can she even hear it? No, she probably can’t, she’s still ‘asleep,’ or so they said. 

I don’t think I’m ready. No, I can’t be. How in the bleeding world could I be ready to see what I’m about to witness? I couldn’t ever be ready for this, and I never wanted to be. I never wanted to be having these thoughts living in my head, more than mere doubts and nightmares planted there randomly. Alas, I know why they’re there, and not for the reason I think first. No. 

I worry.

I fear.

I cry.

I doubt.

I struggle for breath.

I grieve.

I sob.

I ache. 

Because I love. 

No, not loved.

I love. 

All of these emotions and signs of pain course through me, one after the other, because I love that girl lying in that bed just behind those curtains. I love her, and I’ve known it all along. It’s what brought me here, in every way possible. It’s what propels me forward when the nurse at the computer nods, sliding open the gray curtain. It’s what pulls my eyes to the bed, and to the false sounds of breathing. Love is what wrenches the sobs from my chest at the appearance of wires, tubes, and machines hooked up to her. Love is the force that spins me around and makes me shoot down the hall, crumpling to the floor once I reach the corner by the vending machine. Love is what fills my tears that carry images of her lying in that bed fighting for her life. Love fights within myself as my entire body is racked with sobs while I curl into a ball, wishing that seeing wasn’t believing. 

Love is what makes me want to go back to her, and cover her broken body with kisses. Love is what scares the living shit out of me, preventing me from doing that in this very second, because I’m afraid that I’ll break her all the more. Love is what sends the words tumbling off of my aching lips. 

“‘m alright if yer alright, Becks . . . B-But ‘m not alright.”

+

My eyes continue to play tricks on me, but once I blink back the swarm of tears drowning in them, I find that this actually can get worse. Far worse. Their familiar glances shoot over to me and I don’t return them, ignoring the tears staining my skin. They disperse, but he remains there in the center of the waiting room, eyes on me. When I meet those sad blues at last, the newest sob is welcomed by my lips. In a blur, his arms welcome me and I let them. 

“It’s okay,” he croons against my ear, but my head shakes ‘no’s’ again and again into his unfamiliar shoulder. 

“But ‘s not. She’s not okay . . doesn’t even look like her in there. There’s so many wires and tubes and-,” my ragged breaths cut me off in time as his large hands clap against my back. 

“She’ll be okay. She’s a fighter, Harry, always has been. She’s already fighting hard, I see.”

“I wanted so fookin’ badly t’ think that this was all a dream, b-but then I saw her and . . . ‘s not,” I whimper, a new smell surrounding me as I clutch onto the back of his cold windbreaker. 

“Boops has been a fighter ever since she was born, Harry. Did she ever tell you that?” 

“No . . tell me what?” I return, my heart crashing around wildly inside my ribs, about to break free at a moment’s notice. 

“Her and Robbie had to stay in the hospital for a week after they were born,” Chuck narrates, his large palms pressed to my trembling back. “Not Ree, though, she was in and out. It only took her four days to figure everything out - how to breathe properly, eat, and even shit. But Robbie, he took a week. She was smaller too, but somehow she beat all the odds. They say that there’s typically a smaller twin who doesn’t get as much nutrition and the like while in the womb. They don’t have as good of chances thriving outside of the womb, but lookie there. Ree amazed us all, and she’s continued to do so ever since, Harry. I don’t think she’ll disappoint us today either, son,” he finishes, pulling away to cup my face with his palm. The Holte Blues stare back at me, and I catch her features mirrored in his. He nods at me with lips pressed into a flat line, and I see the tears welling in front of the blue as he pats my cheek. 

“Yer daughter, Chuck, I-.”

“I know you do, that’s why you’re here . .That’s why you’re so scared, and I’m rather damn positive she does too,” he returns, ending his words with a wink. 

I love her . . more than there are stars in the sky, and more than there are beats of my heart.

+

I had lost track of how many episodes I had watched of The Office on the telly, but it was wasted, because the images cut in and out in front of my absent eyes. The voices of those around me trickled through when I wasn’t battling with myself. I had long since ignored the gurgling of my stomach, and the buzzing of my phone. The only thing that finally woke me from my drowning senses was when Skye rushed into the room, jittery from the four coffees she'd downed. 

“She passed her vent test to come off it and is breathing on her own!” she exclaims, rather close to jumping for joy. Robbie soon finds himself caught in her embrace, and during my escape, I whiz past them and down the hall. 

“Becks,” I mumble under my breath, scratching at my cheek as the first new tears in the last half hour arrive in my tired eyes. I ignore their trailing voices, and the new sounds I’ve been drowning out. 

I rush past people and their stares, prying and not. Their eyes question me, and I don’t stop, craving the eyes that I’ve been without for far too long. Her blues. But I don’t find them when I delve into that room for the second time in three hours. Yet, I’m met with something miraculous all of the same. 

Most of the wires have disappeared from her body, and the tubes previously hidden in her throat are as well. The first hints of relief wash over me when I take another step, and then another until she’s within reach. It’s not the same and not how I pictured it, but there she is, just a step away. I’m so fucking glad it’s not like one of the ways I had thought of. Her skin is warm underneath my lips, singing praises behind my eyes. The splashes of blues and reds painting her face pull thick streams of tears onto my cheeks as I press kisses to hers. Steady breaths of hers tickle my skin, sprouting the first smile in hours on my lips. 

It’s my Becks. 

It’s her, my girl. 

Prickly stitches smatter her skin in places, but I avoid them as I run my fingers through her hair, brushing it off of her angelic face. A whimper escapes from my lips for a second, silenced by my hand as her face grows hazy from interrupting tears. My tears fall onto her ghost like skin, the remnants of orange blossoms speckled here and there. 

“‘m here, and yer alright. Everythin’s gonna be alright, my Becks,” I murmur against her forehead, peppering kisses to the freckles hidden amongst her skin. “‘m not goin’ anywhere, bug,” I finish, voice catching on the last word when I’m reminded of her saying the very same thing to me earlier today. “And neitha are you. Y-Ya keep yer promises too . . dontcha, Rebecca Ann? . .  An episode o’ FRIENDS came on earlier in tha waitin’ room . . it was our favourite one, ‘Tha One at tha Beach.’ I didn’t wanna watch it without you . . it hurt too much t’, b-but I shoulda known it was a sign that you’d be okay. And now, here ya are, me li’l fighta.” 

“I think . . I think I love you, Becks . . I dunno when I even decided that, seems ‘s been that way fer a while,” I confess into her hair, finalizing my words with another peck to her dark chocolate waves. “Please wake up so I can tell you, li’l one . . ‘ll be waitin’ here ‘til ya do.”

The only response I receive is the steady beating of the monitors sitting at her side. I watch them, sniffling, entranced by the numbers that vary only a few. A calmness washes over me as I lace my fingers with those of her left hand, careful of the wires, while watching the steady numbers. My eyes flit back to her, hidden underneath plain white blankets, and the pain makes a return to me once again. I know it’s all masked under there, the multitudes of stitches, casts, gauze, and brokenness. Injuries that I can’t fathom, no more than when that nurse breathed life into them in the waiting room.

“Ya said yest’day at me house that it was scary t’ admit how ya felt ‘bout me, and bloody hell, ‘s this scary t’ admit t’ you . . Last night I was thinkin’ ‘bout what our kids would look like. ‘m gettin’ ahead o’ meself, I know, only been on two dates so far,” I laugh ever so softly, thumbing at my ticklish nose while the whispers drop from my lips. Circles and curly mazes are left on her hand where my thumb draws them gently, even her name left there in invisible ink. “I hope mo’ than anythin’ they’d have yer gorgeous blue eyes, and prolly some perfect combo o’ our brown hair . . I hope they’d have yer cute li’l dimple, and yer beautiful laugh. Bet they’d be smart like you too, bug, and have yer drive t’ neva give up on sumthin’ . . I dunno if we’d be here if ya hadn’t given up on me . . and I promise you ‘m not ever gonna give up on you, Becks. Never . . ‘ll tell ya ‘bout all tha rest when ya wake up in tha mornin’. Sweet dreams, sleepyhead,” I announce, swallowing against my throat akin to a dessert.

Antiseptic and unfamiliarity greets my nose when I lay one last kiss on her forehead, careful of the nasal cannula across her cheeks. The feet of the metal chair squeal when I pull the chair closer to the bed, her hand limp in mine. Shocks of teal and yellow prick at my eyes, bringing the smallest of smiles to my face with a harsh gulp.

Wiping my nose with the back of my hand, my eyes scan over her obsessively, and lovingly. Underneath the strange blue gown, her chest rises and falls while her fingers remain warm in mine. I settle into the chair, adjusting it until I can lay my arm on the empty patch of bed at her side like a ninety degree angle. There, I lay my head, lulled into a quick sleep by her slow breathing, finally assured that she’s alright.

Only because of that, am I alright too.

+

My dreams had whisked me away, but it wasn’t for nearly long enough. I couldn’t know how long it had been. At the same time, it was too long and yet, not long enough. I didn’t know that I’d be grateful for waking up, and yet at the same time, the bittersweetness would make me yearn for my ignorant dream world once again. 

I’m woken by the feeling of something touching me, and as I slowly come to, I find it’s somebody playing with my hair. As sleep begins to drip off the edges of my subconscious, I can only wonder who that could be, until I suddenly know. My eyes fly open and flit to the face peering down at me. Her’s, and yet, it’s not. 

“Hey, sleepyhead,” she murmurs in a scratchy voice, propelling my body upwards within a second. 

“B-Becks!” I stammer, blinking hard in between rubbing at my eyes quickly, trying to decide if what I’m seeing is real. I find it hard to figure out what I want to be real, glimpsing again the bruises and cuts brandishing her face. 

“Hi,” she whispers, trying to smile, but I see that she doesn’t have it in her. 

“Becks,” I croak, tears tugging at every breath of the word as my arms go around her, and my face dives into her hair. 

“Ouch, careful,” she protests, and profuse apologies fill the air around us. “It’s okay,” she insists, the wires getting caught between us and my body surrounding hers. 

I back up instantly at the sound of her painful words, but it’s the very last thing I want to do. Touching her and wrapping her up in my arms has been the only thing I’ve wanted to do this entire time, ever since I got the call. Reality blanketing me sends thick sobs from me, and into her hair that doesn’t even smell like her anymore. The smell of orange blossom and vanilla is absent, and it continues to make this entire thing worse. It makes it too surreal, more real than I can handle. 

“Shhh, it’s okay,” she hums gently, a crackly sound to her labored voice. Her hands although dainty before, leave ghostlike trails on my back, adding another tally to the surrealness board. 

“D’ya rememba w-who I am?” I ask hurriedly, pulling away to find her exhausted eyes searching for mine. A corner of her chapped lips just barely curls into her cheek, the always present pink color fleeting in the moment. 

“Of course, you’re . . my Harry,” she mumbles with a long, tired blink. The mere five words pull thicker sobs from my lips. I just glimpse the beginnings of tears in her eyes when I return to her arms that beckon for me. 

“‘m so glad yer okay, Becks, so glad. I was bloody terrified ya wouldn’t be,” I confess into the warm crook of her neck, finding a trace of her fruity-vanilla scent tucked away there. 

“Me too, Harry,” she comments a few seconds too late, marked by a clearing of her throat. Although I’m not much better, I hear the evident struggle in her voice like she’s woken up after sleeping, but I know that the raspiness clouding her voice isn’t from that. It’s from the tube that was shoved down her throat to breathe for her, and probably caused the worst sore throat in existence. 

She hardly feels the same, body marked by wires and tubes, a scratchy gown, and an abrasive cast all along her right arm. Prickly threads dot her body in places where the glass left cuts too deep to leave, and the antiseptic smell of a hospital sticks to her all over. I want to hold her against me, to squeeze her all over until I know that she’s real and that this isn’t just a dream. The kiss I press to the top of her head is marred by the smell of iron, and the crusty feeling of blood hidden among her hair. The next one I leave on her forehead is better, and the warmth of her skin under my touch scores a point for reality, although a harsh one. 

“D’ya rememba . . what happened?” I wonder aloud, painfully. My heart, too shocked from the last several hours, doesn’t even budge when the sight of her again astonishes me. Her swollen left eye is surrounded by blue and purple bruises that paint her face in places. 

She nods her head up and down, until her face creases with presumed pain and she stops. My hand covers her entire cheek that I rub with the pad of my thumb, back and forth, back and forth. 

“I don’t know. . I only remember saying goodbye to you, and then . .  talking to the nurse now. I’m glad that’s the last thing . . I remember,” she replies slowly, the words fleeing her lips at times. 

“Y-yer amazin’, y’know that?” I sigh, the tears ever so present, and I’m unsure of when they’ll ever make their departure. A laugh tries to sound from her lips, but not even within a few seconds, her face is overcome with anguish. “Hey, are ya okay?”

“It hurts, but she gave me something.”

“Where’s it hurt, bug?” I question, eyes dancing across her body mostly covered by the thick hospital blankets. 

“Everywhere,” she exhales, sounding short of breath. My lips stray to her forehead once more to leave a peck there, unsure of what more I could do. “Mostly my head . . arm, and tummy.”

“Ya, that’s . . . where they cut ya open t’ fix ya up. And . . ya got a pretty nasty concussion, and a broken arm. It was a good thing ya were wearin’ yer seatbelt, love,” I tell her, struggling to resist covering her in kisses. If only that were the antidote for fixing all of this, for fixing her. I would do it in a heartbeat if it made all of this go away, as if it never happened. 

“Always,” she almost smiles, making my heart flutter. A smile tugs at my lips as I admire her, sure I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life, or bittersweet. She adjusts the nasal cannula feeding her additional oxygen, and I just hope it’s enough. I hope that this is all enough, and that so am I. 

Her heavy eyes drift closed, but the second they do, they flutter open again. They wander back to me and a stronger smile pulls at her lips, mimicking the same motion on the strings of my heart. 

“Don’t fight it, baby, get some rest,” I coo, stroking my fingers through her hair to move it away from her face, careful in doing so. 

“I’m okay . . I want to stay with you, Harry,” Becks admits gently, licking her dry lips. A sound of disbelief leaves mine. 

“Always so selfless, you are.”

“I’m sorry,” she yawns, wincing again at another wave of pain, making me step forward. If I try to again, there aren’t any more that I can take, regardless of the wishful thought that I have to slip into bed with her. “I can’t imagine how . . upset and scared you’ve been,” she apologizes, reaching a hand out to find mine, and it causes my heart to seize with a dose of happiness. 

“No, don’t you apologize. None o’ this ‘s yer fault, ‘s tha asshole who hit you whose fault it ‘s. Yer doin’ so good, Becks, ‘m . . . so fookin’ happy ya came back t’ me . . so proud. My Becks,” I say, smiling through the tears washing out my words. I see the smallest hint of the dimple in her left cheek when they round out from the tiniest of smiles. 

“I’ll always . . come back to you, Harry,” she smiles, and I give in, dipping to press my lips to hers. She may smell different, feel different, and even taste different, but the kiss makes me sure that this is my same Becks, and that this isn’t all a dream. Regardless of the fact that I wish it all was just a made-up dream that I could wake up from, I’m okay with the fact that it isn’t, as long as my girl is okay. 

Finally, she’s my girl. 

And finally, she’s okay. 

My Becks.

+

A/N: Hello, lovely people! Okay.... I am SO sorry for that, but thanks for sticking through it.. I promise Becks will be okay, I would never break up Hecky like that. I apologize for no real content warnings, I didn’t know how to do that without ruining the chapter... Also, please cut me some slack if I get any medical things wrong or they’re unrealistic, I’m not a doctor and I’m doing my best with what Google can give me and from personal experience in hospitals. Thanks SO much for reading all this way into the story, I mean it when I say I’m excited for you to see what’s going to happen! Feel free to visit my askbox if you want to talk after this rollercoaster of a chapter, I feel you. I’d LOVE to talk to anybody about Hecky anytime, or if you want a sneak peek of next week’s chapter lemme know! Make sure to check out the Hecky playlist - although it’s long, I think it has some great tunes on there that remind me of our fav couple! I admittedly had it playing the whole time I was making pasta the other day :P Have a great day, ily c:

[faythelyse]

Joji x Reader {female reader} Apocalyptic Setting <Part One>

The sound of your closest friends baby jolts you awake. You had fallen asleep sitting up in a chair near the window. You stand and stretch for a moment before walking into the kitchen. Jessica meets you at the doorway to the kitchen.

"We're officially out of food." She bounces her daughter on her knee.

"Alright, I'll grab Ashlee and we can hit that up this place we noticed coming back from our last haul. It looked like a department store or something. I have an extra cheese stick in my bag if Jade is hungry."

Jessica knods and sighs. You knew saving that cheese stick was a good call. After grabbing the snack for Jade you head to the garage where Ashlee was working on the truck we scored a few months ago. Ashlee notices you enter and slams her hand on the top. "We still need some gas for this bad boy!"

"No time like the present to go look for some?!" You add expecting a negative response.

Ashlees face turned sour. "We're out of food."

"Yep. You going."

"Well of course, but we just went on a trip 3 days ago. Those rations were supposed to last a week. Jess eats like a fucking pig." Ashlee starts throwing her gloves off onto the desk and prepares a bag for the emergency food trip we are underprepared for in all honesty.

"How much ammo do we have left?"

Ashlee sighs heavily "We were low last trip. We might have 5 or 6 shells left for the shotgun."

"And the handgun?" You interject.

"Fifteen." Ashlee finishes packing up leaving the shotgun for me to take. "I'm gonna take a smoke break. Meet me out front when your ready to roll." She puts the cigarette in her mouth and walks out.

Grabbing the gun you quickly head for your room to gather the essentials. Outside Ashlee was taking the last drag off her cigarette before flicking it to the road. I stare at the bikes in front of us wishing we had gas for the truck. "Jesus christ I hate these bikes, I'm wore out by the time we get to wherever we're going." Ashlee smiles. "Soon Y/N" Ashlee closes her eyes and daydreams for a moment. Imagining life with a car again.

About halfway there we stop and scout a bit. Make sure no one is out and about before we pull closer into this town.

Right on the edge of town we leave our bikes locked to a tree behind a small abandoned house. It was a soft pink color. It somewhat stood out making it easier to remember where we left our things. We chat quietly while making our way to a large department store.

The store was huge. The sign had fallen partially. A corner of the building was also caving in. Jessica, never going out on many supply trips didn't always realize the danger she put Ashlee and I in on a somewhat regular basis. Although we have become better at it over time.

As we arrived at the doors we became silent. Searching for any possible noises or animals that could get us in worse trouble than we were already putting ourselves in. Instead of going in through the front we found a side door that appeared quieter to open. Upon entering we were stunned to see lots of stuff still on the shelves. Why had this store not been hit so badly by looters. Shocked by the nostalgia and childlike joy we let our gaurd down. We casually walked down aisles and shared past memories that seemed insignificant then. We would give anything to be able to visit a store normally again. Buy a new dress to wear for date night or some shit.

"Holy shit, they have mother fucking WINE!!!"

Ashlee was almost in tears, and I couldn't contain my smile. We packed as many as we could. We still needed room for actual food.

Just then we both heard a single gunshot so we dropped immediately to the floor as quickly as possible. Readying our guns we slowly get up and sneak closer to the back of the store where the gun had fired. There is a hallway that leads back to the bathrooms and what I assume might be the head office or the workers lounge area. We see a shadow at first emerging from the hallway. We aim thinking it could be one of the infected, but it was just a man. He pulled out a walkie telling someone on the other end he's fine. Ashlee and I are frozen for a minute. We hadn't seen people in a long time. Hell it's even been awhile since we've seen an infected. They have been sparce lately. Probably just spreading out more. Although we weren't a very populated area anyway. Ashlee whispers "What do we do, ignore them?" I shrug not knowing myself. It would be risky to assume they are friendly. And if they were to rob us we would be left with nothing. Another man runs up, he has a large backpack on. Ashlee and I locked eyes for a moment. We had the same idea to potentially rob this man. I shake my head. "Maybe they will trade?" I whisper.

Ashlee shakes her head in disbelief that they would consider trading. We had not glanced back at the men for a minute, when we turned back to check on them they were gone. I turn back and shrug, if they were gone then we had no further issue. Ashlee and I nod knowing we should get a move on and wrap this up before we get spotted. While crouching we slowly walk around the nearest aisle where we are met face to face with the two men we had just spotted. Both shocked we all immediately stand, but none of us draw a weapon. After a solid 30 seconds of no speaking just staring I speak up

" We really just need to grab some food, we won't be any trouble." It was then that I noticed one of them was injured.

"You're hurt?" I said softly. Ashlee also softened her expression when she noticed the wound. Ashlee broke her silence as well, "Y/N is a healer of sorts, maybe we can help."

Ashlee and I are both suckers for wanting to help. The man with big sad brown eyes looked at me with some hope.

"Can you really hel-ehp" he stopped abruptly and grabbed the wound on his side that started to soak through his thick green coat. I couldn't tell the severity of it, I didn't want him to die though, so in the moment I just decided to say yes. His friend went alongside him to help support him. "My name is Ben" He proceeded to shake Ashlees hand and then my own. "This is George, nice to meet you. We were here looking for medical supplies, if you could help us out we would pay you back some how. Whatever you need, I promise. We'll work it off."

"I'm not a real doctor or anything man. I just started learning this stuff since the world went to shit. I've practiced on dogs, and cats, a few humans. Nothing too crazy. I've become pretty decent at sew up jobs. I just promise to do my best to help. If something goes wrong I just cant have you blaming me."

Ben smiled "Listen, its not like im going to find some heart surgeon out here. Anything you can do to help is better than whatever I could come up with."

Ashlee walks up to the other side of George and throws his arm over her neck. "I'll help walk him to the bikes."

I nod and quickly grab everything i can that is edible, even found a few seed packets. Elena will be stoked to add these to her garden.

We biked back to our little community that cosisted of 2 houses that have been conjoined by fencing in the two. Its somewhat protected by being hidden in the many trees that surround our community.

Jessica was sitting smoking outside. As she saw us pull up with two strangers she looked worried. I held up my hand to show her everything was okay and waved. We brought George in and laid him in a spare room we had set up for me to work on anyone who had been hurt. There was no bed, only a futon mattress had been laid on the floor.

"Set him down gently." Ben whispered.

Ashlee had a worried expression, I could tell she was worried about the blood loss. He appeared paler than before. I sat down and started preparing my equipment as fast as possible and urged Ashlee to grab some other things I needed.

As I neared being finished with sterilizing the needle I told everyone to leave the room. I can never concentrate while people watch. I had assumed George was knocked out when I reached down to start removing his jacket he grabbed my wrist.

"This is going to fucking hurt isn't it." He breathed. I nodded. I had nothing to numb him. Then I remembered the extra wine Ashlee and I had discovered. We had grabbed six bottles. I pulled out a bottle and handed it to George. He glanced it over.

"For the pain?"

"For the pain." I said as took it back from him to open it. After opening I asked if he would like a cup.

"Bottles fine, lets get this over with." He started to shrug off his jacket exposing the large gash on his side. Hopefully he hadn't punctured an organ or something I couldn't fix.

He took 3 large drinks and motioned for me to come to him. I started cleaning the wound to the best of my ability with what we had. It was time to start sewing. Sewing still makes me nervous.

I was ready to pierce skin when he interrupted.

"Do you have anything to bite on?"

I took the belt that was around my waist wrapped it up and handed it to him. He bit down and nodded to show he was ready.

I started and his eyes rolled back into his head, I kept going. I wanted this to be over as fast as possible. He started making a few small shrieks here and there but he was toughing it out rather well I thought.

As I was getting to the last few stitches his hand found my leg and grabbed it tightly. I felt horrible for causing him so much pain.

I started to just mumble I'm sorry over and over again until I had finally finished. His head fell back onto the pillow in exhaustion and agony. I leaned up and pressed my hand to his forehead and face and apologized some more. Trying to gauge how well he was actually doing. I stopped myself and realized I needed to finish by covering it with a bandage. I grabbed clean cloth from the cabinet and bandaged him. I look at him for a moment. I should grab his friend and let him know I've finished. He probably wants to wait with him until he wakes up. As I struggle to stand back up George's hand grabs mine and squeezes. I squeeze back giving him reasurrence, and leave to confront everyone.

Ben steps up to me immediately as i exit the room.

"What's the damage, is he cool? Are we good?"

I could tell he was nervous about the answer.

"I'm not sure yet honestly, he's all stiched up. He's also still alive and lucid which is a good sign. It's going to take a long time to heal. Maybe a month or two. It also needs to stay clean and free of infection. I recommend staying here until he's fully healed. Ben seemed pleased with my answers "Can I go see him now?" I nodded and he rushed in.

Ashlee pulled me to the side. "You reccomend they stay for two months?"

"Yes, that was my recommendation. He was hurt prerty bad, he shouldn't be moving at all for atleast 3 weeks. I think we should just chill. As long as he heals well, we could use their help."

Ashlee crosses her arms. "This is risky, but Im with you. It's nice to have new faces around."

"I agree" I smile, feeling slightly better that I may have saved someone's life.

[shurisneakers]

espresso [6]

Summary: In which your best friend’s brother begins to set you up on dates when you mention that you haven’t been in a relationship in years, but things don’t go as expected.

Warning: swearing, near panic attacks, angst (?)

A/N: this is my entry for the exuberant @odinhson‘s writing challenge thank you to @samingtonwilson for beta-ing this for me

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous part- Part 5 || Espresso Masterlist

Becca: binch

Becca: if i don’t get my nourishment i will Wilt and Die

Becca: if i get out of this bed rn i will literally Cry

Becca: pls get me a coffee kind sir,,, i will be gr8ful

You: um

You: i’ll get it later ok lov u

Becca: wtf why

You: im going to meet fucky at the library

You: *bucky

Becca: youre going to meet my brother again?

You: yes he said he was studying there anyway so I could go meet him there

You: why

Becca: nothing it’s just

You: it’s just?

Becca: nvm it’s nothing go see that smelly bitch biscuit

Becca: but get me the drugs when u come back

_____________

The library was fairly populated for seven in the morning. And, though everyone looked like they could use at least a week’s worth of sleep, they trudged on.

Walking through the aisles, you let your fingers run over the spines of every book, relishing in the feel of their old leather under your touch. It didn’t take log before you found Bucky in the classics section, his back leaning against one of the bookshelves as he scanned the ones in front of him.

“Looking for something specific?” you asked quietly, making him snap his head towards you. He gave you a tired smile before reverting to his original state.

“The Catcher in the Rye. I wanted to borrow it again,” he sounded distant, like his mind was preoccupied.

“Again? You’ve read it more than once?”

“Three times,” he answered, eyes lighting up as he reached forward and grabbed an old, worn out book with a tearing paper cover. His fingers dusted it gently before he opened to the last page, his eyes skimming over the words.

“It’s your favourite book?”

 “I wouldn’t say it’s my favourite book, to be honest.” He flipped it, examining the cover from back to front. “Just the most memorable one. It sorta stuck with me throughout.”

“Why?” you asked curiously, watching as he flipped through the pages, seemingly searching for something within the lines.

“Don’t ask, it’s just gonna come off as pretentious as shit,” he chuckled, shking his head bemusedly, but you could detect a hint of something else behind his words. Bucky loved writing. He loved words. This book obviously meant a lot to him.

“I don’t know who hurt you Bucky Barnes, but I’d sure as fuck want to know why you love that book so much.” You heard a hush on the other side of the bookshelf, making you peep through the shelves only to catch the disapproving glare of the librarian who apparently caught you using unparliamentarily language.

“No one’s hurt me, it’s just-“ he paused to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly, letting his hand linger there. “I didn’t think anybody would care.”

“Oh.” You nudged his foot with yours, making him look at you in surprise. “Well, I care, so go ahead.”

He eyes never left yours and you could see a faint blush spread across his cheeks. Cute ass motherfucker.

Wait-

“Um, I guess it’s kinda because– the thing is– see, I–“ his mouth was moving at a speed much swifter than his brain, you could see it. It was like he had so much to say, almost too much. You gave him an encouraging smile as he took a deep breath to calm himself down before beginning again.

“I’ve read it three times. Every single time it means something different to me, you know? It’s like the words are familiar but everything’s changed,” he tried to convey what he was thinking, but it was clearly something hard to talk about because Bucky rarely ever ran out of words.

“‘Don’t ever tell anyone anything, if you do you start missing everybody.’,” he recited from memory finally showing you the page he stopped on. You shuffled closer to him, leaning on his shoulder to get a better look at the book in his hand. “It’s really hard for me to let others in. Everything becomes too intimate and when they decide to pack up and leave because they can’t handle my shit, it just—it hurts. It’s one of my favorite quotes.”

“It’s beautiful,” you said softly, as he looked at you for a few seconds in silence, not making an attempt to say anything.

“Right, so-“ he cleared his throat, pulling away to put the book back where it belonged. “His name’s Loki. He’s slightly difficult at first, but all he needs is just a little love and attention and he’s good to go.”

“Are we talking about a succulent or a person?” You remained where you were, feeling strangely lightheaded. Bucky glanced at the big clock overhead before returning to you.

“You’ll see.” He winked, shifting from one foot to another. “Now go! I have an hour to spend with calculus and you are going to be late for your first class.”

“You got a shift at the coffee shop today? I could come see you after,” you asked, facing him while walking backwards, your feet moving automatically.

“Not tonight, fam. I’m busy,” he said, looking down just for a second.

“Whatcha up to, barista boy? You got a hot date?” you teased him lightly, shoving your fists into your pockets, delaying your exit.

“I do, actually,” he fired back, making you freeze in your tracks.

“You’re going on a date?” you asked incredulously, your eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

“Yeah. Met an old friend of mine last week and we’re going out tonight.” He shrugged, giving you a half smile.

“Oh shits.” Well, that was new. It had been ages since Bucky had gone out with someone. “Use protection, ya nasty. Don’t want any mini versions of you running around.”

“Yeah, totally. We’re gonna go grab something to eat and fuck behind the church in my pickup truck.” He rolled his eyes, laughing to himself as you snorted.

“You’ve always been a huge part of the Jesus fandom,” you called out, grimacing when you heard the librarian hiss a ‘Quiet!’ at you again.

“Have fun, James. I’ll catch you later.” You shoved your hands further into your pockets, turning around and jogging out before he could get another word in.

_____________

You didn’t expect the goth version of Sabrina the Teenage Witch at the entrance of your building that evening, sporting a look of disdain with a hint of boredom, gracefully covered up with a smile. He was dressed to the nines in all black, which matched his dark hair and starkly contrasted his fair, almost too pale skin.

“You’re Y/N, I presume?” you could hear the remnants of an accent that wasn’t common to your area. He sounded tired but it looked like he was making an effort, so you weren’t completely put off.

You nodded, giving him a small smile. “Loki, right?”

“That’s me. Did James tell you where we’re going tonight?”

“Bucky doesn’t take the effort to tell me anything useful, so I’m pretty uninformed.” You followed him as he walked towards the gate of the compound, his fingers toying with the hem of his sweatshirt.

“That’s weird because I swear he asked me for everything ranging from my birth certificate to my social security number. He wouldn’t even give me your dorm address without it,” he said drily, his smile actually making him look really nice.

“Oh, wow.”

“Yeah, so there’s that carnival or a fair or something that’s come up. I figured we could go check it out.” He gestured to his car.

“Sounds fun.” You offered him a helpful smile, accepting his invitation without much hesitation. Maybe a distraction was exactly what you needed.

_____________

The whole fair was illuminated with lights from the different stalls and you could smell the calories in the air as kids ran around with cotton candy and popcorn and funnel cakes. The ratting of the roller coaster tracks and peals of laughter subconsciously made your heart lift and a grin settled on your face.

“What do you want to do first?” you asked loudly, trying to speak over the crowd.

“I don’t know. It’s so noisy. I wish everyone would just shut up.” He scrunched up his nose in disdain, leaving you to stare at him.

“How about grabbing something to eat first? I’m starving,” you suggested, earning a nod from him as you both made your way down to where most of the food stalls were.

Churros, funnel cake, caramel apples, popcorn and just about everything deep fried was put on display and it smelled pretty fucking great.

“D’you want to try out the hypertension or diabetes on a stick?” you laughed, eyeing everything separately.

“Uh—“ he paused, flinching. “I think I’m good.”

“Not even cotton candy?”

“Definitely not.” He shook his head, eyebrows crinkled in disgust.

“Well, okay, man.” You shrugged, not letting his preferences stop you from going ahead and buying the first thing that caught your eye and had your mouth watering.

He followed you silently through the entire process, only passing an occasional comment on how greasy it was or how unhealthy it was. You took it as a personal challenge to count how many times he nearly gagged.

“Rides or stalls?” You could already predict the kind of night you were in for and at this point you were too tired to not have fun with it.

“Rides, I suppose. We’re too old for the stalls.” He clicked his tongue, putting his hands into the pockets of his skinny jeans, staring disapprovingly at you.

“Oh, you are so right. Papa forbade me from playing games lest I fall victim to pride and immaturity. So pleased that throwing balls into holes is age restricted.” You threw some more popcorn into your mouth, feeling his stare burn into your face as you looked at him without any emotion.

“Didn’t you grow out of them after you turned, I don’t know, fifteen? How old are you?”

“You’re absolutely correct. We should hit the rides soon. I may not last fifteen minutes more. I’m practically decomposing as we speak.” You grinned at him making your way to the roller coaster, leaving him to match your pace.

“Roller coasters?” He called after you, rushing to catch up.

“Yes. Do you not like them?”

If this somehow greasier Tommy Wiseau said anything worse, you swore you literally would tear-

“I just think they’re too jumpy. And erratic. And noisy.”

You spun around wildly to face him, mouth dropping open. “What exactly did you expect from a fair, Lucky?”

“Loki.”

“Gesundheit. Have you ever been to a fair before or-“

You were just about to launch into a large rant when someone’s grip on your shoulder cut you off.

“Mario? What are you doing here?” The all-too-familiar voice made you instantly calm down as your best friend’s brother, your lord and savior, stepped near one of the most annoying people you could have met.

Which would be met with a more enthusiastic response had it not been for the presence of a girl with the most curly red hair accompanying him. She had her arm around his waist whilst his was secured around her shoulders and you immediately felt your words die down in your throat.

“Ah, James. We were just on our date.” He narrowed his eyes at you and you rolled yours at him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Hey, man. I thought you were taking her to that restaurant down the road?” he questioned as the girl with him sent you a smile. Of course she’d have dimples.

“Thor told me this would better fit her,” Loki replied wearily.

“Wait a minute- you know Thor?”

“Know him?” Loki scoffed. “He’s my brother.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Given, we’re adopted siblings but I have to put up with his nonsense regardless.”

“Oh my fucking God, you’re the bitchy drama goth brother Thor talks about.”

“Bitchy drama goth— you’re lucky you got set up with me and not our sister.”

“I guess this date went super well?” Bucky piped up before you both clawed each other’s throats out.

“Simply wonderful.”

“Great.” He smiled awkwardly, before seemingly remembering who he had with him. “Oh shits, yeah—this is Dolores. Dot. Doll. I don’t know-“

“Dot is fine.” She smiled again, extending her hand in a shake. She had a flower tucked into her ear, matching the colour of her long skirt. Of course she did.

“This is Y/N, my sister’s best friend and that’s Loki,” Bucky introduced live-action Merida to you, as she gracefully replied with a small nod.

“You guys done?” Dot asked, switching her gaze between Loki and you.

“Yup, just finished. Loki was about to drop me off at my place. How about you?” You ignored your date altogether, instead focusing on how relaxed Bucky looked, none of his usual creases to be seen on his face. You liked it.

“I think we’ll hang around for a bit more. What do you say?” She looked up at him and Bucky nodded, a soft smile taking over his face.

“Sounds good to me. Text me when you get home, okay?” he reminded you, suddenly meeting your gaze. Your eyebrows furrowed at the intensity with which he was looking at you, but you gave him a thumbs up, agreeing.

“See ya tomorrow, Mario. Get home safe, please?” He waved one more time, as did Dolores, before they both made their way into the crowd, but not before Bucky threw you one more glance over his shoulder.

“Are you this hostile with every person your friends date or only James?” Loki sniggered from besides you, earning a sharp glare.

“One more word from you Severus and I will buy the oiliest piece of funnel cake and shove it down your throat.

But his words didn’t go over your head. You knew exactly what he was talking about and apparently it was so glaringly obvious that even others could see it.

Yikes.

Part 7

[yeosanggf]

All I Want for Christmas is You

Pairing: Lee Haechan x Reader

Summary/Request: Donghyuck finds himself falling for his best friend at the worst possible timing | ooohh, can u write a platonic haechan angsty christmas scenario pls? thank u in advanceee💜💜💜@orijeonal

Genre: angst

A/N: hello, loves! im sorry if this doesnt really count as platonic, i kind of got stumped at the angst request haha. haha I hope this doesnt make you hate Mark haha more than you probably already do haha - dia :)

“Fuck.” Donghyuck swore aloud to himself in his room, the lack of sleep finally getting to him. It was a pattern, tossing and turning over and over again. He let out a loud sigh as he creeped out of his room to the kitchen to make a 4am snack. All night he’d been awake, thinking of you, Y/n, his best friend of a year and a half now.

In September last year you both started your junior year of highschool, and now you were finally seniors at the end of your first term. You met in psychology. After proving to the teacher you were both troublesome with your respective friend groups, she removed you from them and put you two together. And by doing this, somehow, she managed to cause more trouble. You had the same sense of humor and wish for destruction. You and Donghyuck clicked instantly, merging your two friend groups within three weeks of school starting. It was legendary, really.

Donghyuck fixed himself a bowl of cereal and sat in the chair nearest to him, resting his head on his arm and staring at the Christmas tree his family had put up in the living room. His mind was racing, and yet it was still. His heartbeat felt so loud, it was as if it shook the spoon in his hand. He knew he was falling in love with you. He had known it for weeks now, yet he chose to ignore it. The way your hair fell, the shape of your eyes, the curves of your lips. He had tried to ignore it all, and he couldn’t do it any longer. The Christmas tree was soothing, in a way. The time of year had always been associated with happiness for Hyuck, and looking at the tree softened his heartbeat for the time being. He thought of you, and decorating a tree together as if you were married. Hanging stockings for you and your kids… Goddamnit, Y/n stop lurking in my head! He dropped the spoon back into the bowl when the cereal was finished, letting a loud clank sound through the room.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. One for every step he took, until he was back in his bed, under the covers, staring at the ceiling once more.

“That bitch,” he smiled to himself, knowing that if you’d heard the insult your jaw would’ve dropped in fake shock and your hand would have raised to hit him, “I can’t get her out of my mind.”

Donghyuck went to school the next day on two hours of sleep, which was unusual for him. Lucky for him, he didn’t have to see you until lunch, which gave him more time to ignore his classes, mull over his feelings, and decide how to act with you. He’d try to think logically, but every time his mind went to how much he loved you.

There’s just something about her, I guess. He’d think as his teachers talked. I want to be with her. All the time. Which isn’t logical… So… That’s love, right? Being willing to do irrational shit for someone? I’d electrocute myself for her. Ugh, fuck, yeah that’s love.

By lunch, he still had no plan. Defeated by his own thoughts, he got his food at sat at his normal table. my friends’ table, he reminded himself, ‘friends’. Seated to his right was Mark, his best friend since freshman year, and to his left was Renjun. Mark and Donghyuck had every class together in ninth grade, and Donghyuck spent all of that time getting on Mark’s nerves. But, he couldn’t escape the fiend and eventually grew very fond of him. So fond, that four years later they haven’t had a class together since then and still consider each other best friends. You and your friends had been the newest addition to the group.

“Hey, man.” Mark slapped him on the back. “You’re late.” Donghyuck forced a smile, though his brain was throwing around so many things that this extra operation made him look more uncomfortable than he actually was.

“You okay?” Mark asked, noticing the unfamiliar dark circles under his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good. How late am I?”

“Meh,” Mark shrugged, “Only like five minutes.”

On Mark’s other side, was you.

“Hyuck!” You called over to him, blinding him with a sweet smile. “Are you going to the Christmas Ball?”

The Christmas Ball was a school dance, much more informal than it sounded. It was supposed to be a thing for dates, but the kids in your grade tended to stick to friend groups, except when slow songs were on, of course. This year, though, you’d be going with Mark Lee. You and Mark had been dating for only about a week now, but you’d decided to keep it a secret from the rest of your friends until the Ball, which is why you were both intent on making sure everyone went. You’d admired Mark for a while, so a week ago when he asked you out, it was a pretty easy answer.

“Yeah, I am.” He stuttered slightly. He wasn’t really in the mood for a dance, but if anything he’d go for you. He could confess to you at the dance, that’d be romantic. Christmas romance, it’d be like a movie! He smiled to himself, feeling cocky about how good his idea was. He kept to himself this lunch, which was odd for the rest of you. Now all he could think about was the dance.

It’ll be perfect. I can catch her alone and tell her I like her and badabing badaboom! We’ll dance and as the night is ending, we’ll finally kiss… He tried to imagine the moment. How beautiful you would look. You wore a silver dress last year, and even then he couldn’t deny that you looked amazing. He remembered your red lipstick and how your hair bounced as you danced, wondering if it’d be the same this year. Or maybe the only difference would be that you’d be with him…

The day of the dance came and you wore a golden dress with red heels and matching red lipstick, the same one as last year. Mark wore a suit, like the rest of the boys, and had a red tie on to subtly match you. Donghyuck came fifteen minutes late, trying to look his absolute best. He didn’t want to mess up, but if he did, hopefully his looks would save him? Unlikely, he thought, as he adjusted his hair, taking great care anyway. The room was packed full of students, and your friend group was filing in slowly. He got himself a soda and stood against a wall, scanning the crowds for anyone he knew. Ideally, you. Seeing as there were too many people around, he decided to look through the crowds. He threw out his soda cup and started walking. After a couple steps he saw you across the room from between the dancing kids. He froze. Just like last year, you were undeniably beautiful. Taking a step forward, he started pushing through the crowds, cautiously at first. His pace sped up as he got closer, never taking his eyes off of you. It was when he was only a few feet away that he saw you holding hands with Mark and smiling widely, looking deeply lost in his eyes. Again, Donghyuck froze. He watched as Mark moved his hands to your waist, leaning in to kiss you. Donghyuck looked up, hoping to see mistletoe above you, but no. He felt his limbs grow weak. He was afraid if he so much as lifted a hand, it would start shaking. He started to turn, wanting nothing more than to run out of the room, but you caught his eye.

“Hyuck!” You waved him over. “Come here!” He fiddled with his hands and begrudgingly made his way to you and Mark.

“Hey Donghyuck!” Mark said, putting an arm around your waist. “Guess what? I asked Y/n out last week, and now we’re dating. Friendship, am I right?” He smiled. Hyuck put on his best act, appearing perfectly happy, avoiding your gaze and focusing on Mark. He was afraid that if he locked eyes with you, his tears just might overflow.

“A week, huh? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” He smiled back, giving Mark a playful punch on the arm.

My best friends… dating… and they didn’t even tell me.

“We thought we’d tell you all today, considering the spirit and all.” You responded. “Cute, right? A Christmas romance.” You looked back at Mark, pulling him closer.

A Christmas romance. Like a movie. That was supposed to be with me.

“Yeah,” Hyuck said. His sorrow slowly turning into anger. He wanted to punch Mark, his own best friend. He wanted to wipe the smile off his face and make that boy feel how he was feeling. Pain. “I’ll be around, if you need me... Not that you should.” He needed to get away, as fast as possible.

Just like before, he made his way through the crowds. Slowly at first, getting faster and faster with every step until he was running out the door. The cold wind hit his face. The tears rolling down his face felt like they were freezing, but he kept running. He ran past streetlamps. Light hit his face, and disappeared, and came again, and disappeared, making the tears on his face shine with every other step. He stopped only when he couldn’t go any further, his stomach in his chest and his lungs in his burning throat. Water was flowing down his face like the Niagara had buried itself behind his eyes, and he couldn’t get it to stop. The beating in his chest got so loud, it was as if it vanished completely, leaving behind a harsh burning sensation. He couldn’t picture anything but you with your lips on Mark. His own best friend, with his other best friend.

Hyuck got home, eyes swollen and sinuses blocked, sniffling as he shut the door behind him. He walked into the kitchen, intending on eating cereal once again. He took off his tie and suit jacket, throwing them onto the table he sat at. He plopped down on the same chair as before and propped his head up on his arm, stirring the cereal around with his free hand and staring into space. His eye caught the light of the Christmas tree. The happiness he felt from the tree was crushed. Shattered into a million pieces with his heart on the floor. He teared up again as he gazed at the star on top, hoping for something, anything. He’d get to see you everyday… but he’d be seeing you with Mark. He closed his eyes as he turned away from the decoration. The tree had a new association for him. It wasn’t festive, and it wasn’t comforting, but an endless pit of loneliness that fostered deep in his heart.

[k-liight]

Green Hearts part 2

Here's part two, just like I promised! yeah, three months later and I finally finish the second part lmao. More swearing ahead, just like in the first part, but no smoking this time (thanks Ace!)-- however this IS ridiculously cheesy so beware of that LMAO. part 1 is here for those of you who didn't read it. I highly reccomend you read it before carrying on with this lol. hope y'all enjoy this! and special thanks to @ghostly-rowlf, @beankich, and @slither-sol for your kind words on the first part!!

   Crash!    “Gah! Son of a bitch!!”    I rush to steady the stacks of Pringles that I stupidly crashed my shopping cart into. I thought I had control of this damn thing. Luckily, none of the Pringles fell over. I snatch a tin from the shelf and sigh deeply.    Ever since last night, I’ve been a frazzled mess. Why does Ace have to be so pushy? Now he’s probably pissed at me, and the other guys likely wondering what the hell came over me. Am I ever gonna be able to even show my face around them again? Probably not.    Or maybe I’m just overreacting. Ace was probably just trying to help me. Well doesn’t that make me look like a jackass.    “Light!”    “Huh?” I look around and see a small green figure running towards me. It’s Arturo.    “There you are!” he cries out as he approaches me. “I’ve been looking all over for you!” He puts his hands against his head, making him look stressed out. “Ay caramba, what are you wearing?!”    I glance down at my usual ratty jeans and t-shirt ensemble, then not as far down at Arturo. “What do you mean, what am I wearing? What’s going on??”    “No time for that now!!” He grabs my arm and yanks me from my shopping cart, running towards the exit. Damn, for someone with such tiny little legs, he sure can run fast. He must’ve had a lot of coffee this morning. Before I know it, we’re out the door and running down the street.    “Where are you taking me??” I ask.    “To where you’re supposed to be!” Arturo answers. What? The hell is that supposed to mean? I’m so confused. I’m about to open my mouth again when Arturo suddenly stops and pulls me down.    “Wait a second—I have got to do something about that hair.”    He takes out his treasured comb and runs it through my hair. His little fingers assist him, flattening my hair in places and fluffing it up in others. Geez, my hair is short, there can’t be too much wrong with it. With a final tease to the back, he pulls away.    “There. Much more presentable.” He smiles for a bit, admiring his handywork, then whisks me away again. “Now come on, you’re late!”    “Late?!” I squawk. “Late for what?!”    “Your date! You’re late for your date!”    “DATE?! What the fuck are you talking about??!?!”    Before I can figure out what the hell kind of stunt Arturo’s trying to pull, he finally comes to a halt in front of a cute little 50’s-looking diner. I see Ace, Billy, and Grubber sitting at one of the patio tables outside the diner. Arturo finally lets me go and makes his way to the others. But where’s Snake?    “I’ve got her!” Arturo says, making his way to the other three. Ace stands up.    “About time! What da hell took yous so long?”    “Hey, I can only go so fast!” Arturo whines. I roll my eyes. I’m calling bullshit on that one.    “Okay, I’m here now, now can one of you idiots please tell me what the hell is going on??!?!”    Ace stands up, and dramatically points to the large restaurant window.    “Snake has been waitin’ in there for yous all by hisself for fifteen minutes now!”    “Wha—”    I cut myself off when I see Snake sitting at one of the little tables inside the diner. One of his arms rests on the table, and his legs are crossed. He’s absentmindedly playing with his hair again. His usual tanktop and shorts ensemble has been swapped for a cute turquoise off-shouldered top and a black skirt. His expression looks dazed, but with a twinge of something else… sadness? Worry? Restlessness? As if he’s expecting something major to happen. He looks so quaint sitting there, all dolled up. And then it hits me.    “You—” the realization leaves me gasping for air— “you guys set me up on a date with Snake?!”    “Ey, didn’t I tell yous that if ya didn’t make a move I was gonna do it for yous?” Ace puts his hands on his hips. I remember fully well that he said that, but I didn’t think he would actually go through with it, let alone so soon!    “Wh-what do I do?! I’m not prepared for this!!” I grab my hair out of nervousness.    “Hey!” Arturo yells. “I just fixed that!”    “What you need to do is just go in dere and be yourself,” Ace says. “The last thing yous wanna do is panic.”    “Dah—Snake will be happy to see you!” Billy beams.    “That’s right!” Grubber raspberries.    “Oh, by the way, you left your nice jacket at our place last night,” Arturo says. “It might come in handy right now.” He holds up my black motorcycle jacket. Shit, I forgot all about that thing.    “Haha, thanks guys.” I take the jacket and put it on. I take a quick glance at myself in the reflection on the window. I’m no Danny Zuko, but it’ll have to do.    “Now go on,” Ace says. “Your date awaits.” He gestures to Snake inside the diner. “Go get ‘im.” He claps my shoulder and pushes me toward the door.    “Good luck!” Billy yells.    I give an awkward wave to the rest of the gang, unable to say much more at this point. Oh god, I’m really doing this. I’m going on an impromptu date with Snake. Holy shit. I peer at him through the glass door and swallow the lump in my throat.    With a final burst of confidence, I push through the door and make my way to Snake’s table.    Snake’s head shoots up as he sees me enter. A wide, adorable smile breaks across his face. There’s no way he can be looking at me like that.    “Light! You’sss finally here!”    “Yeah sorry, I kinda didn’t know we were doing this until like five seconds ago, pardon me…” I chuckle nervously as I pull into the chair across from him.    “I wasss waiting for you~.” Snake smirks, resting his chin on his interlocked fingers and gazing into my soul with half-lidded eyes. God, he’s gorgeous. I tug at my shirt collar. Fuck, we just started and I’m already losing it, how am I supposed to keep my cool for an entire date with this creature?    “Haha… sorry to keep you waiting for so long…"    “It’sss alright.” Snake’s smile looks a bit less mischievous now. “Thisss whole thing wasss a little lassst-minute for me too.”    “At least Ace gave you time to pick a freaking outfit.”    Snake drops his composure and falls into hissy laughter.    “Yesss, it doesssn’t look like he gave you nearly asss much time, no offenssse."    “None taken. He literally had Arturo drag me out of the supermarket and fix my hair on the way here.”    “Really?” Snake giggles again. His laugh is so adorable, what the hell.    “Really. Luckily my sweet-ass jacket here makes up for my otherwise shitty presentation.” I smirk, or attempt one at least, pointing at my jacket.    “It really isss a niccce jacket. Black looksss good on you.”    “Thanks. Black looks pretty great on you too.” I gesture under the table towards his skirt.    “Thanksss…” He looks down and blushes, like he wasn’t expecting me to give him any compliments. Maybe he wasn’t. The gang was more used to having insults hurled at them. None of them really know how to respond to compliments. Snake twirls his hair again, daring a soft glance back up at me with those big eyes. Ace was right, he is rather shy. So cute. I open my mouth to say something, but a waitress comes to our table and interrupts me.    “Oh, is this the date you were waiting on?” she asks in an airy voice.    “Yesss,” Snake simply states.    “Aww, you didn’t have to wait for me, you could’ve ordered something.”    “It’sss okay, I wanted to wait.”    “Well, can I start you two off with something to drink?”    “Oh shoot, I didn’t even think about the menu.” I chuckle a bit, quickly picking up the menu and trying to find the beverage section. “Uuuhhh, I’m definitely gonna need a few minutes.”    “That’s alright.” She smiles warmly, then turns to Snake. “You?”    “Uhh, can I hasss the strawberry milkshake pleassse?” He turns to me. “Wait, do youss mind me ordering sssomething now?”    “Nah go ahead, you’ve waited on me long enough.” I lean back in my chair a bit.    “So a strawberry milkshake for you?”    “Yesss pleassse.”    “Alright then, coming right up!” The bubbly waitress heads back towards the kitchen.    “Crap, where even is the drinks section?”    “It’sss on the back.”    “Of course it is. Thanks.” I flip to the back, yep, there it is. I peer at the menu for a few seconds, then look back up at Snake. He’s studying his own menu, searching for something to eat, that tongue flickering out in that mesmerizing way, those ruby-red eyes skimming the page. It’s hard to focus on the menu with this beautiful creature sitting across from me. Suddenly, he makes a face and hisses a bit.    “Something wrong?”    “They don’t have mozzarella sssticksss.”    “What?! Those bastards!”    He giggles a bit. “Shame, I wasss looking forward to that.”    “I’m suing!” I joke.    “Pleassse don’t.”    “Here’s your milkshake!” The waitress suddenly comes back with Snake’s milkshake. Holy shit it's HUGE! Snake’s eyes widen in awe at the size of the thing.    “Oh my god. There’sss no way I’m gonna be able to finish thisss all by myssself.”    The waitress giggles. “Maybe you could share it with your date? I’ve got an extra straw.”    Snake immediately gets red-faced. I chuckle nervously.    “Haha, well I was just gonna get a root beer, but if you really need help finishing that…” I look to Snake for approval.    “Well… I guesss it’ll sssave usss money.” He smiles a bit.    “A wise decision!” The waitress plucks a second straw into the milkshake. “Either of you know what to order yet?”    “Errr…” I glance at the menu again. The bacon cheeseburger looks good, but so do the chicken tenders."    “The chili dog looksss good,” Snake says.    “Alright, and for you?” The waitress turns to me.    “I guess I’ll have the bacon cheeseburger.”    “Uh-huh, and do you guys want fries with that?”    “Yesss pleassse.”    “Alright, coming right up!” She skips back toward the kitchen. I turn to Snake, smiling a little.    “I like her. She’s really nice.”    “Yeah, she’sss a lot nicccer than everyone elssse here…”    I frown. “What do you mean? Was someone giving you shit before I showed up?”    “No, but everyone keepsss giving me weird looksss…”    I open my mouth to protest, but just one look around the room shows that everyone is, indeed, shooting judgmental looks our direction. A man quickly glancing over his shoulder with hate in his eyes. A little girl staring at us as if we were aliens. A woman side-eyeing us and whispering something to her friend—the only word of which I can pick up is “Gangreen”. The entry bell rings, and a young couple walks in, hand in hand, only to freeze in the doorway upon seeing us and immediately turn around and leave. I scowl. Who the hell do these people think they are?! I clear my throat and turn back to Snake.    “Are they making you uncomfortable? We can leave if you want.”    “But we ssstill need to get our food.”    “We can get it to go. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable on our first date.” I chuckle, trying to ease Snake up a bit. He looks down as if ashamed.    “That would be great, pleassse…” he says softly.    “Okay.” I look around and spot the waitress coming back from another table. “Excuse me!”    She turns to me with a surprised look. “Yes?"    “Is it alright if we get our food to-go? We gotta leave—”    “Oh. Of course!” She seems mildly disappointed at our departure, but retains her cheery disposition.    “Thank you!” I say as she walks away. Snake lowers his head.    “I’m sssorry…”    “Hey, don’t be sorry.” I smile at him, ghosting my hand over his. “I’m not gonna force you to stay here if you don’t want to.”    Snake looks up at me and smiles sadly. He looks really upset, but at least he seems appreciative. Poor boy. No one has the right to make the love of my life upset.    “Well… we may asss well have sssome of our milkshake before we go.”    “Oh yeah, I forgot about that, haha.” I quickly take a sip of the shake. “That’s pretty good.”    “Isss it?” Snake asks before leaning forward for his own sip. “Mmm. Ssso good.”    “Well I’m glad you enjoy it!” The waitress says, surprising both of us. Holy crap, that was fast. She sets down our food and the bill. I automatically fish the money out of my wallet; I wasn’t expecting Snake to pay for the food, nor do I want him stealing it.    “Thank you so much!” I say to her, leaving a tip on the table.    “You’re welcome! Come back anytime!” She gives a friendly wave goodbye and skips off to the kitchen. Snake runs out the door as I pay for our food as quickly as possible. As I meet him outside the door, Snake takes our shake from me.    “Thank you ssso much. I don’t know how much longer I could’ve ssstood that.”    “Not a problem. Where do you wanna go to eat this?”    “Doesss the park sssound okay?”    “The park sounds wonderful.” We begin to make our way toward the park, but Ace stops us from the patio table.    “Hey! Where are yous two goin’ so soon?”    “Snake didn’t want to be there anymore so we’re eating our food at the park!” I yell back at him.    “Oh.” Ace seems surprised. “Well uh, we’ll meet yous later!”    “Ssseeya Accce!”    It’s a rather short walk to the Townsville city park. Snake sips on the milkshake the entire way there. It’s a shame we had to leave the restaurant early, but at least it’s a nice day out. We find a random bench and sit down on it. I place Snake’s food in his lap and open my own.    “Ahhh… thisss isss much better. Nobody’sss bothering usss here—”    Snake cuts himself off as we hear an all-too familiar sound: the sound of a certain trio of little girls flying at breakneck speed towards us.    “Hold it right there, Gangreen Ga—err, Snake!” Blossom commands.    “And Light! I knew you were up to something!” Buttercup adds.    “No stealing on our watch!” Bubbles pouts.    Snake groans.    “Whoa whoa whoa girls,” I begin, “for your information, I paid for this food. I have the receipt right here. See?” I pull out the receipt and wave it in their faces.    “Oh yeah?” Buttercup challenges. “Then why were you two looking around and making sure there was nobody else nearby, huh?”    “Becaussse I wasss hoping we’d be left alone!” Snake hisses.    “Wait, what are you two doing here without the rest of the gang, anyway?” Blossom inquires.    “We’sss on a date,” Snake says rather proudly, hooking his arm around mine and putting his free hand on my shoulder. My face has gotta be as red as Blossom’s bow right now.    “Aww, that’s so sweet!” Bubbles gushes. “You make such a cute couple!”    “Bubbles,” Buttercup growls through her teeth.    “Thank you, Bubblesss,” Snake says, ignoring Buttercup. He snuggles into my side a bit more. Is he just doing this so the Puffs will leave us alone or is it genuine???    “Well, alright, you’re off the hook for now, but we’ve got our eyes on you!” Blossom says. With that, the Puffs fly away, but not before Buttercup shoots one last angry look at us over her shoulder.    “Finally.” Snake slouches into the bench. “Can I pleassse eat my food now?!”    “I think so.” I chuckle. Snake immediately digs into his chili dog. I decide not to question his little display of affection and instead try to focus on my burger.    The next few minutes are spent mostly in silence as we eat our food. Snake’s completely devouring his chili dog, and he snatches a few fries out of my box from time to time. He’s acting like he’s about starving. Hell, he probably is. It’s hard finding food when you don’t have any money to pay for it. I can’t help but chuckle when he finishes his dog.    “What’sss ssso funny?” he asks.    “You’ve got chili sauce all over your face!” I laugh.    “Oh.” Snake’s eyes peer down at himself, and he licks it all off with a single swipe of that crazy tongue. I laugh again as Snake raises the milkshake.    “Want a sssip?” he offers.    “Sure…” I lean forward to take one of the straws, and Snake’s at the other straw in an instant. Shit, our faces are really close. Oh god, he’s making eye contact. Fuck. He bats those long eyelashes a few times and I’m hooked. I swallow the shake and my pride. Even as he pulls away I’m still locked into his gaze. He laughs at me a bit.    “Why do you look ssso shocked?” he asks playfully. I let go of my straw.    “Well I uhhh—I just wasn’t expecting you to do that.”    “Isssn’t that why the niccce waitresss gave usss two strawsss?” He snatches another one of my fries and winks. I have to try not to choke on my own breathlessness.    “I-I-I mean I guess, haha…”    “By the way, are youss gonna finish that?” He points to the last couple bites of my burger. I look down at it for a second or two, then quickly shove it into my mouth.    “Yesh!” I say through a full mouth.    “Good, becaussse I’m ssstealing the ressst of your friesss.”    “Hey!”    He snatches my fries away from me before I can even think about stopping him. Whatever, he can have them. He stands up and throws our empty boxes in the trash. Then, he grabs my hand, pulling me off the bench.    “Wha—”    “Now come on, let’sss go!”    “Go where?”    “Anywheress!”    With that, he takes off running, dragging me along with him. This is the second time today I’ve been dragged into running by a green boy. Though this time, despite my lack of running ability, it’s not as unpleasant. Maybe it’s because Snake’s closer to my height. Or maybe it’s because I actually know what’s going on. Or… fuck it, it’s because I’m in love with him. He leads me into a more wooded area of the park, and the way the sunlight slips in between the trees makes it look like something out of a fairytale. He looks over his shoulder at me as he runs, and the sun illuminates every curve and angle of his face, rolling like waves over that beautiful hair as it sways, and bouncing off his shoulders. But then he flashes a smile that puts the sunshine to shame.    “Come on, ssslowpoke!”    “I—I’m trying!”    Even if I was a good runner, I’d still be struggling to catch my breath at the stunning sight before me. His head is turned back in front of him now, but the image of Snake in the sunlight is still fresh in my mind. Suddenly, he comes to a halt, and I realize he’s taken me to—a pond?    “I didn’t know there was a pond in this park,” I say breathlessly.    “You obviousssly haven’t been in Townsssville long enough.” Snake gives me a playful nudge with his elbow and crouches at the shore of the pond. I stand next to him, leaning forward a bit. He swirls his finger around in the water, a wide smile plastered across his face. I’m surprised at how much he seems to be enjoying this date. No one is ever this giddy around me. The idea of Snake actually being happy in my company makes me think that maybe I do have a chance with him after all.    But what if he’s just faking it? What if he only agreed to the date out of sympathy? And that he’s only pretending to have fun so that I don’t feel bad? My heart immediately freefalls into my stomach. How do I know I’m not annoying the crap out of him? Everyone else always ran away from me because I was too much. Why would Snake be any different?    “What’sss wrong?”    “You seem to be having fun for someone who was forced into a date,” I blurt. Snake’s brows furrow.    “Forccced?”    “…Well yeah, I mean, Ace did set us up.” I stuff my hands in my pockets. Since I already dug myself into this hole, I may as well find out the truth.    “I wasssn’t forced,” Snake says rather defensively.    “But I thought you said it was last-minute—”    “I had to get ready at the lassst minute. Accce wasn’t forcccing me into thisss date. I didn’t have to go if I didn’t wantss to. If anything, I thought you were the forccced one.” What?!    “No no, absolutely not!” My hands fly out of my pockets and up in front of me as if I were telling him to stop. “I wanted to go on a date with you, I’ve been wanting to, I mean—” crap. He wasn’t supposed to know that much. His eyes are wide with surprise, a red blush staining his face and his fingers hovering over his parted lips.    “Ssso… you’re not jussst… doing thisss to be niccce?”    “Hell no! I thought that’s what you were doing!”    “That’sss not true…” Snake’s expression slowly morphs from shock into sheer glee. And then, suddenly, he lunges into a hug. Holy shit. He’s hugging me. The love of my life is hugging me. For a moment, all I can do is stand there stupefied at the feeling of his arms around my midsection. My face heats up as he nuzzles my neck. Cautiously, I wrap my arms around his tiny waist, keeping him close. He fits so perfectly. I think I’m gonna cry. I love him so much. I wanna kiss him so badly, but that would be creepy. I feel him tighten his embrace a bit. I had no idea he was so affectionate. I rub his back a bit, to which he responds with a soft humming noise. I gotta tell him how I feel.    “Snake?” I begin.    “Hmmm?” He turns his head and looks up at me with those eyes. Shit, I’ll be lucky if I can even do this.    “…There’s something I gotta tell you…”    “Oh?” He pulls away from our hug, but I keep my arms around him. “Pleassse tell.” He moves his hands to my shoulders. I swallow a lump in my throat for at least the third time today.    “Well… urgh, how do I even say this… err, Ace didn’t say anything about why he pulled me out of the shack last night, did he?    “Not asss far asss I know.”    “Oh, oh well that talk we had might explain some of this. B-basically, Ace was pushing me to… to… well, make a move. Y-you know, do this whole da-date thing on my own. But, I-I-I got scared. I mean, it’s not easy to just waltz up to your crush like ‘hey I like you, wanna go out with me?’ haha…” I raise one hand to prod at the back of my neck. Shit, there goes my diarrhea of the mouth again. Snake gasps softly.    “Youss… I’m your crush?” He sounds dumbfounded. I lower my head a little.    “…Yeah. It’s been that way since… since I started hanging out with you guys regularly. I just… you’re so amazing. I’ve never met anyone like you. Well, I’ve never met anyone like any of you guys, but you… you’re special. Like… you’re so… you’re so slick, and sassy, and adorable, and beautiful and—you’re everything I’ve ever wanted.” I shoot him an awkward smile. Now he really looks stunned. His eyes have completely rounded out, and his jaw looks like it’s going to fall off his face any second now. He shakes his head a bit, his hair gently fluttering from the movement.    “I-I don’t know what to sssay, I…” He struggles to catch his breath. “…That’sss the sssweetessst thing anyone’sss ever sssaid to me…” His brows curve upward as a sort of sad smile stretches across his face. “After all thessse yearsss of being outcasssted, shunned, and being called thingsss like ugly, freak, undesssirable…” His voice cracks at that last bit. He looks up at me, his eyes filled with water and something I’ve never seen before. His bottom lip quivers as he speaks up again.    “It feelsss amazing to finally be loved.”    With that, he buries his face in my shoulder and sobs. Oh shit, I didn’t mean to make him cry! I hold him in a tight embrace, gently stroking his hair.    “Hey, don’t cry,” I breathe, “It’s gonna be okay. I’ve got you. Shhhh.” I rock him back and forth a bit to soothe him. His shoulders shake, and his fingers dig into my jacket. I can already feel my shoulder getting wet. It seems like his tears are of happiness, so I guess I should be flattered? But I don’t want him to cry anymore. I rub his back again; that seems to help, as his sobbing subsides. After a moment or two, he raises his head from my shoulder, wiping some of the tears from his reddened cheeks.    “I’m ssso sssorry, I’m sssuch a messss right now…”    “It’s alright, I’m sorry for making you such a mess.” I chuckle, hoping some humor will ease him a bit. My breath hitches as his fingers creep up my face. He glances at me with a soft expression, and I’m pretty sure the entire city can hear my heartbeat right now.    “And for what it’sss worth,” his breath is still shaky, “I feel the sssame.”    Wait what?    “I—wha—haha, that’s funny. You’re funny.” Now it’s my turn to lose my breath. Snake pouts.    “I literally jussst cried on your shoulder, and you’re ssstill sssurprisssed?” I open my mouth to say yeah, I honestly am, but he presses a finger to my lips. “Shhhh. I don’t want any ssself-depreciative commentsss out of you. You’re ssso fun to be around. You makess me laugh, and feel sssafe. And I… I like your loud voiccce and your posssitive attitude. And how you’re ssso unique. And with how youss’ve been treating me today, I’m convinccced that we’re jussst… meant to be.” Holy shit, did I just hear all that right? I resist the urge to make sure there’s no gunk in my ears.    “…Now I think I’m gonna cry.”    “That’sss okay, my shoulder’sss open.” He smiles and pats his shoulder. I sniffle. Shit, I might actually cry. I brush some of his hair out of his face and tuck it behind his ear. He closes his eyes, leaning into my touch. When he opens them again, I can now recognize that new thing in his eyes—love. Can this be true? I sniffle again. Whatever did I do to deserve—    Rustle!    I turn my head around to inspect the bushes behind me. “What the hell?”    “That wasss probably jussst an animal or sssomething.”    “Well, whatever it is better leave us alone! We’re trying to have a moment here!” Snake giggles at my outburst. I turn back to him, playing with a lock of his hair. “Now where were we, hmmm?”    “Youss may or may not have been about to cry.”    “Ah, yeah, eh, I don’t think I wanna do that.” I chuckle. Snake smiles, but then it fades as he appears unsure.    “When you were sssaying all thossse niccce thingsss… you sssaid… youss called me beautiful…”    “Yep,” I say matter-of-factly. He smiles shyly.    “No one’sss ever called me that before.”    “Guess I’m the only one with taste around here.” His soft, hissy laughter fills my ears once more.    “You’re too sssweet.” He leans his head on my shoulder. God, he’s so precious. It occurs to me that my arms are still loosely around him, so I tighten my embrace.    Rustle rustle!    “Damn critters,” I mumble.    “That’sss an uncharacterissstic thing for animal-loving Light to sssay,” Snake teases.    “Hey, I’m trying to have a moment with my boyfriend, I don’t want anything ruining it.”    “Oh ssso I’m your boyfriend now?” he asks with that same teasing tone.    “Well I—” my arms instinctively retract to my sides. “I assumed that, after all this, it meant we were… you know…”    “I’m jussst messssing with youss.” He grabs my arms and pulls them back around him. “Now get theessse back here. Your boyfriend never sssaid you could ssstop hugging him.” He gives me a wink that makes me wanna melt into a puddle.    “Ahahahaha….”    CRACK!    SNAP!    THUNK!    “Okay, what the fuck?!” I yell. Snake and I both turn around to look behind us and see what all that commotion was. There’s a strange figure flopped on the ground in front of the bushes. The person lifts their head, and we see it’s—    “Grubber?!”    “Oh hi.” Grubber’s usual raspberry noise takes on an embarrassed tone. He waves sheepishly.    “Dahhh, you okay Grubber?” Billy suddenly pops up from overtop the bushes.    “Way ta go guys,” Ace scolds, climbing out of the shrubbery. “Now yous given us away!”    “Boss!” Arturo harshly whispers through clenched teeth, sliding out from under the bushes. He makes a “cut” gesture with his hand. How long have they all been there?!    “What are you guysss…” Snake trails off as it clicks in his brain. “Were you ssspying on usss?!”    “Whaaaat?!” Ace laughs nervously. “Spyin’?! Wha— what’a yous talkin’ about?? We wasn’t spyin’ on yous! Hehe, we’s ain’t spies, right guys?” The other three hurriedly agree. Snake glares at them, clearly not amused.    “Oh yeah sure, what else could you guys have been doing?” I huff.    “Birdwatchin’!” Ace quips. I raise one eyebrow at him.    “You? Birdwatching? Really?”    “Y-yeah, sure! Right guys?”    “Billy like pretty birds~,” Billy says in a sing-song voice.    “I don’t believe it for a sssecond,” Snake says, his hands returning to my shoulders.    “Me neither,” I agree. We both laugh for a moment.    “Ey boss,” Arturo starts, “it’s getting a little late. Should we go home?”    “Oh…” Snake fretfully looks up and notices the sun beginning to set, his thick brows curving upward. “How isss it thisss late already?”    “Ey ya know what they say, time flies when ya havin’ fun.” Ace winks at us. Snake’s fingers curl into the fabric of my shirt.    “I don’t want thisss to end,” he says. It’s so soft, almost a whisper, and it’s more to me than the rest of the gang.    “Neither do I,” I mumble, hugging him. “But hey, there’s always tomorrow.” I smile at him, and he returns it.    “I guesss you’re right.”    “Alright guys, let’s amscray before da Powa’puffs get on our case for somethin’.” Ace starts to make his way back to the shack, and the rest of us follow suit.    “It already happened to usss onccce, I really don’t needss that again,” Snake says.    “Wait, really?” Ace looks over his shoulder at Snake in disbelief.    “Yeah, they thought we stole the restaurant food and didn’t realize we were on a date,” I explain.    “Well those little Powa-pukes.”    “Dude, Be quiet! They might hear us!”    “Yeah boss, you need to control that loud obnoxious voice,” Arturo states bluntly.    “Ey, her voice is just as loud an’ obnoxious as mine!” Ace argues.    “Yeah but I don’t talk smack about the Powerpuff Girls!”    “My god, Light, you’s such a goody-two-shoes, why do we’s even let yous hang out with us?”    “Becaussse she’sss sssweet, that’sss why,” Snake says, hugging my arm. Suddenly I’m a stuttering, flustered mess again.    “Ah-well I uh, I mean uhhh, I-I-I just—”    “Shoulda neva’ asked.” Ace turns his head away from us and stuffs his hands in his pockets in annoyance. We all laugh at him a bit. Suddenly, Snake shivers beside me.    “You getting’ cold?”    “Jussst a little.”    I immediately take off my jacket and drape it over his narrow shoulders. He perks up, surprised by the gesture. “Oh, won’t youss get cold now?”    “Nah, I’ll be fine,” I insist. “And even if I was, you’re even worse than me when it comes to getting cold, so it’s better if you have it.”    “Thanksss.” He leans his head on my should as I slip my arm around his waist.    We stay like that the rest of the way to the shack, silently enjoying each other’s company as we listen to the rest of the gang blabber on about whatever. A few occasional laughs escape our chests, as is inevitable when you’re friends with these doofuses. But mostly my mind is in a whirlwind of disbelief as I process everything that happened today. I actually went on a date with Snake. And he actually enjoyed it. Fuck, we confessed our feelings to each other! And he even said he was my boyfriend! Wait, holy shit, I have a boyfriend now? Does this mean I’m his girlfriend? Holy shit, I’m Snake’s girlfriend. This can’t be true. This is too good to be true. This must be some kind of crazy dream. And now he’s actually cuddling up to me like this?? Damn, if this really is a dream, then dream me is one lucky bastard.    “What’sss with that dopey sssmile on your faccce?” Snake teases, snapping me out of my daze.    “I’m just wondering how I managed to land the most beautiful boy in Townsville,” I blurt. Snake’s face turns beet red.    “Okay now you’re jussst sssaying that.”    Ace makes a vomiting noise. “Why did I think settin’ yous two up was a good idea?”    “It’s called consequences, Boss,” Arturo says.    “No, I really meant that,” I say to Snake, ignoring Ace and Arturo. “I didn’t mean to say it so quickly but I meant every word!”    Snake smiles as he struggles to make eye contact. “Thanksss, but… I don’t thinkss I’m very attractive.”    “Well you know what they say, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” I cup his face with one hand, and he leans into the touch.    “Okay DIS is ridiculous!” Ace blurts.    “Quit ruining the moment, Ace!”    “Yous really think he’s prettier than me?!”    I shrug. “Sorry, dude.”    “Dis is bullshit!” Ace storms into the shack and slams the door. The rest of us laugh.    “What an asssshole,” Snake says.    “I know, right?" We laugh again as Snake takes my hand off his face and holds it in his own.    “Thanksss for everything today. I had an amazing time.”    I chuckle a bit. “Hey, not a problem. As much of an asshole Ace is being right now, he’s the one we gotta thank for this.”    “I don’t think he’ll accept our thanksss for sssomething he regretsss doing now.”    We laugh once more. Then, suddenly, I feel something warm, soft, and slightly wet on my cheek. My face immediately feels like its been set on fire. Did… did he just… ?!    “D’aawwwww,” Billy coos. Snake starts to head towards the door.    “Ssseeya tomorrow, Light,” Snake says, raspy voice dripping with honey.    “Y-y-yeah, seeya Snake.” I can feel that dopey grin plastered on my face once more. Snake opens the door to the shack, but before he goes in, he looks over his shoulder at me one last time. I don’t think he realizes he still has my jacket on, but at this point I don’t care if he keeps the damn thing. He smiles that beautiful, charming smile, and for a moment time stands still. I awkwardly wave at him, too stupefied by the overwhelming happiness to say anything. Snake gives a little wave back, and then he goes inside, that hair swooshing behind him as the door closes. I stand there in shock, until Arturo’s slow clapping snaps me out of it.    “You sly dog,” he says.    “Dahh congrats!” Billy cheers.    “Haha, thanks guys!” I high-five Grubber as I make my way home. My heart does a victory dance the entire way, happy that I finally got the green boy who ssstole my heart.

[ohlovelywar]

Leaves, Camera, Distraction! I p.p.

a/n: for cori cause SHE HIT 5K GO HER @starksmile LOVE YOU CONGRATS AGAIN also this is so late and shitty lmfao IM SO SORRY I TRIED OKAY

summary: distraction: noun a diversion or recreation    

paring: peter parker x fem!reader

warnings: cursing (MBLEH ITS ME!!), shitty writing cause i’m so tired cori sweetie i’m so sorry, unedited cause last point, iw spoilers, if you tilt your head and squint you’ll find some angst, mentions of anxiety, fluff

word count: 1,739 words | flash backs are italics and prompt is in bold

Something felt off. It wasn't the fact that Tony was stabbed. Or that Stephan had given up the time stone. Or even that Thanos got away. No, it was something different. Something...wrong. Peter felt it, deep within him. It felt as if he was fading, fading into the air, into the unknown. His breathing picked up ever so slightly as he rubbed his hands, arms, neck. I'm still here. I'm still here. Everything's going to be okay. Mr. Stark is here. He'll know what to do. Everything's o-

"Something's happening." Each head turned to Mantis, hoping to get an explanation when she turned to ash. Quill and Drax's eyes widened as what was left of their team mate floated away into the air in the deserted planet.

"Quill?" Drax called out, turning to ash before Quill could even turn to him. The feeling in Peter became more intense as the seconds passed by.

"Steady Quill," Stark called out, already making his way over to the man left behind.

"Oh man-" Nebula looked down as the last Guardian of the Galaxy on Titian vanished.

"Tony," Strange caught the remainder of the group's attention, "there was no other way." And he joined the others, leaving no trace behind. The feeling took over Peter's body and he suddenly knew what was happening.

"Mr. Stark? I don't feel so good." He was dying.

"You're alright-"

"Save me!" Peter cried, collapsing into his mentor's arms. "I don't wanna go. I don't wanna go." He couldn't die. There were people that needed him, people that he needed. May, Ned, Mj-no matter how many times she pretended not to care-, y/n. He couldn't leave them behind. Not without saying goodbye. And Tony. Oh god, Tony. Tony would blame himself, just like he told Peter a year ago.

"I'm sorry." Peter wanted to say more. He wanted to apologize for not listening to Tony. For getting on the ship. For getting off the bus. For not getting the gauntlet off sooner. He wanted to thank him for the suits. For K.A.R.E.N. For being the father figure he needed. But most importantly, he wanted to tell Tony that he did have a heart, and he wanted to make sure that he wouldn't lose it. But he didn't get to. He turned to ash and was enveloped in darkness.

Peter woke up in a cold sweat, panting as he tried to ground himself. He was alive. he was safe. The snap was reversed. Everything is fine now. He let out a long sigh before checking the time on his phone. 7:05 am. She was going to kill him for calling at such an early hour, but he really needed to hear her voice.

"Hello?" an muffled groan responded after a few rings.

"Get changed."

"What?"

"Get changed! We're going somewhere today."

"Peter, it's like *yawn* five in the morning." Peter grinned as he imagined her y/h/c hair sprawled out over her pillow, eyes closed as she laid content in her bed on this cool, autumn morning.

"That's where you're wrong my sweet girlfriend. It's actually 7:08."

"Shut up jerk." He laughed, not even phased by her sleepy insults.

"Come on! A little early morning adventure never hurt anyone."

"Just because it doesn't actually hurt anyone doesn't mean that we should do it."

"Jake would be so disappointed in you."

"Jake would agree with me!"

"Ya boring!" The sound of his girlfriend's giggles filled his ears, making his anxious heart flutter.

"Come on, please?" he whined. But not his sweet little "I want and need your affection right now" whine. This one was needy. Like a scared child woken up by a nightmare in the middle of the night who's parents won't let him find solace in their bed. She recognized this whine, and it killed her to hear it again.

"Okay," she whispered, upset that she didn't catch on sooner. "Meet you in fifteen." The soothing voice of Peter's girlfriend replaced by the electronic beeps, signaling that she had hung up. Peter let out a sigh, his facade dropping. He slowly tried to get out of bed, afraid his shaky limbs would give away.

Calm down Peter. You're fine now. Just fine.

Time moved slowly to him as he got changed into his Mid-Town sweatshirt and blue jeans.

Everything's fine. Just fine.

He walked out to the kitchen, relieved to not find his aunt there. Deciding against eating, he grabbed a cup of water, hoping the cool liquid would help him snap out of his anxiety.

I'm fine. I'm fine.

He didn't know how long he was in the kitchen for before he heard the faint knock that his girlfriend always makes. He opened up the apartment door and was instantly greeted with her warm smile.

"Hey you. Ready to go?" he simply nodded his head, leading her out of the apartment and locking the door behind him.

The two walked in silence; Peter's anxiety radiating off of him as his girlfriend struggled with what to say. He's been different for a couple months now. She didn't know what it was, he never wanted to talk about it. It was as if something happened to him that day he disappeared from the school bus.

"You know," she broke the silence, gaining the brunette's  attention, "you can always talk to me Peter. Doesn't matter what's bothering you, I'm always here for you. And I would never judge you."

"Thanks y/n, but I'm fine, really." He sent her an unconvincing smile. He wanted to tell her, he really did. He wanted to tell her how he can't sleep without thinking he's back on Titian. How he can't close his eyes without feeling like he was back in the soul stone, separated from his loved ones. How Mr. Stark wouldn't let him go on patrol for the past two months because every time Peter would put on his suit, he'd have a panic attack and wouldn't calm down till hours later. How he's falling behind in school because though the world hasn't felt any time pass from the day Peter went missing on the bus, he did. How the only thing that feels even remotely normal to him was his relationship with her. Bu he couldn't. Not yet at least.

"Are you sure?" y/n asked, worried about her boyfriend.

"Yeah. I just...I need a distraction."

"A distraction, huh?" It wasn't long before a small smile found her face, "Do you have your camera with you?"

"Of course. I never leave home without it."

"Perfect!" She grabbed his hand, leading him to a small, fairly deserted park.

"Y/N/N, where are we going?"

"You said you needed a distraction so," she paused, stopping in the center of the park, "we're having a mini photo shoot!" Peter rose his eyebrows.

"But you hate getting your picture taken."

"One: that's cause either your grade rides on it or you're taking it from an unflattering angle or time...or both. And two: yeah I do, but you said you needed a distraction soo.."

"You sure?" he double checked, getting excited as this was a rarity.

"I'm sure," she smiled at him, a little nervous. But hey. It's Peter. You trust him.

The next thirty minutes flew by as Peter directed her on where to go and what to do, utilizing the numerous amounts of fallen leaves in their photos. The couple shared many laughs as they threw leaves at each other in between shots.

"Just one more!" Peter exclaimed, wanting to capture as many photos of the amazing girl in front of him as possible.

"We've already done everything we can!" y/n laughed, glad that her boyfriend was feeling better. Peter looked around, determined to get one last photo.

"How do you feel about being one of those insta-famous people for five minutes?"

"What are you planning Parker?"

"Follow me." He led her to the vacant street beside the park.

"Peter?"

"Sit right here."

"Are you crazy!"

"What?" Y/N's eyes widened as she gestured to their surroundings. "Oh! My bad. May we please sit out in the middle of the street for a picture, my lady?"

"No we cannot sit out in the middle of the street for a picture!!"

"Come on! No one's driving here right not. Besides, I wouldn't let anyone run you over." She pondered over it for a moment before ultimately deciding fuck it.

"You're lucky I love and trust you," she grumbled. She positioned herself on the pavement, looking over her shoulder anxiously for any incoming cars.

"Relax y/n/n," Peter told her. She took a deep breath.

It's fine. I'll be fine. Peter's got this.

"Take the damn picture Peter."

"Smile then!"

"I am!"

"You look like you're being held hostage." She rolled her eyes then gave a small, closed mouth smile. "Now you look like you're being forced to be here."

"I am being forced to be here. Quite literally."

"The longer you take to actually smile, the longer we're gonna be here and the more chances you have of being run over."

"I thought you said you weren't going to let me get run over!"

"I won't! But I'm also not going to lie to you."

"Okay fair."

"Just smile y/n. It's really not that hard. You've been doing it this whole time."

"But could I have almost died taking any of those photos?"

"Okay fair point." Peter looked around again, thinking of things that would make her laugh. "Remember how, on our first date, this old lady tried to hit on me?"

"Oh my god, yeah!" She started giggling. "She was like eighty and trying to get you to take her to brunch the week after and her husband wasn't having it!!" He captured as many photos as he could, making sure to do her genuine smile justice.

"Anddd done!" Y/N stopped howling and went over to Peter to look at the finished products. Suddenly, Peter's spider-senses kicked in, alarming him that something was coming.

"Watch out!" he pulled his girlfriend a side before the racing car could hit the two of them. Y/N gave Peter a look, "See, I told you I wouldn't let you get hit by a car."

"Yeah yeah whatever Parker. Come on, our early morning adventure's not over yet," she said, skipping away as Peter laughed, his anxiety long forgotten about.

Everybody needs a distraction, and Peter was lucky enough to have her be his.

[thereforebucket]

In Print

Daily prompt fill: "someone keeps printing cute animal pictures/cryptic messages from my wireless printer n im determined to find out who it is" I thought of Nico and I had to write it! Enjoy!

The first time it happens, it's weird, but Nico doesn't really think anything of it. She figures some kid in her building was trying to print out a picture of what is really an adorable dog and just had the wrong printer. She wishes they hadn't printed it in color, but she figures no harm, no foul, and just recycles it. 

 The second time it happens, Nico almost packs up and moves right then and there. This time, it's not a picture of a cute dog, no, it's a message, and it seems like someone's hell-bent on spooking her. That, or her printer really is sentient, like the message proclaims. But, it's a prank, right? It has to be! It has to be. 

 She calls Maki and complains about something else that happened in her day. It takes her mind off the creepy printer message and she rests relatively easy that night. 

 The third time it happens, the kid is back and with a fucking vengeance. Nico comes home to the sound of her printer running and finds ten full-color pictures of the same dog meme spilling out of her printer tray. For a moment, all she does is stand there, hands balled in fists, and hate whoever's goddamn kid loves dogs enough to want this picture this badly, and then the eleventh one rolls out of her printer, hot off the presses, and Nico dives to unplug it from the wall. 

God, she has to get to the bottom of this, and she would, she'd start talking to the chattiest neighbors to figure out who this is, but...she's got a date. With Maki. Which is...new. And remembering that does actually help a little to soften her bad mood. But the irritation at the printer is soon replaced by anxiety about getting to her date on time, so she lifts herself up off the floor and races to her room to change, nearly tripping over a discarded jacket along the way. God, she needs to clean this place... 

When she gets back from her (pretty successful) date, Nico plugs the printer back in and receives three more pictures of the dog before she finds the cancel button. She has to fend off five more print orders after that and grumbles as she feeds the unmarked paper back into the paper tray. She sighs. She'll do something about this in the morning. 

Nico's in her pajamas and brushing her teeth when she hears her printer start up again. Slowly, she leans her head out the bathroom door and watches as a single sheet of paper slides into the tray. Her printer powers down and Nico stands there a moment, eye twitching, before spitting forcefully into the sink and stalking into her room. On the paper are the words "I'm running out of ink, feed me." 

Nico snatches the paper, crumples it up, and throws it at the wall. Oh she's definitely doing something about this in the morning. 

She wakes up around eight and waits impatiently for about an hour before calling Maki. She doesn't want to wake her up too soon or she'll be cranky. She's also a little unsure of how to proceed after their date. It had felt just like hanging out but they were both dressed up and both drank a little too much wine and there was wine? Which in and of itself was out of the ordinary. Not bad necessarily, just, different? And. Nice. 

Nico shakes her head and dials Maki's number. 

The phone almost rings out before Maki picks up with a, "Hello?" Her voice is scratchy with sleep and it's...really cute? Nico's actually stunned for a minute and she tries to reconcile those feelings while remembering that she doesn't really need to and yet still feeling compelled to keep them under wraps. She's actually so caught up in her head that Maki says, "Hello?" again, more insistently this time, and Nico snaps to attention. 

"Hello Maki, I'm sure you missed my lovely presence!"

There's a silence on the other end before Maki speaks again. "I'm hanging up," she deadpans. 

"Wait wait wait!" Nico says, putting out her hand even though she's alone at her kitchen counter. "Don't hang up!" She pauses for a moment. "Do you want to come over?" 

"I saw you less than twelve hours ago!" Maki says. "Nico, I'm going back to sleep." 

"You won't believe what keeps happening, though," Nico says, and when Maki doesn't say anything, she takes the opportunity to regale her with the tale of her printer. 

"And I'm supposed to care why?" Maki asks when she's done. 

"Come on, you want to see who these weirdos are as much as I want to tell them to get their own damn printer," Nico says. "I have a plan for figuring out who they are." 

Maki mulls it over for a moment, then sighs. "I'll be over at 10," she says. "But you owe me breakfast." 

"Can you pick it up and I'll pay you back?" 

"Fine." 

They hang up and Nico gleefully texts Maki her order from a local bakery. When that's done, she puts on some coffee and goes to get ready. 

Maki arrives at exactly 10:15, paper bag in hand. By that point, Nico had been sitting on her phone for about half an hour, impatiently playing a game while she glanced at the time. When she hears the knock, she jumps up and opens the door a little crossly. 

 "Hey."

"Hey." 

"Brought your bagel," Maki says, holding the bag up. 

"How'd you get in my building?" Nico asks. 

"Your doorman recognized me," Maki says, scooting past her into the apartment. 

"You realize you're also literally showing up fifteen minutes late with Starbucks," Nico says. 

Maki looks down at the bag, then back up at Nico. "Well, Homura," she says, giving the correct name of the bakery. 

Nico rolls her eyes. "Whatever," she says, and goes to pour Maki some coffee. She pours in cream until it's a light beige color and adds a spoonful of sugar, then hands it to Maki, who accepts it gratefully. Nico then refills her own cup (black, with three sugars) and sits down at the table across from Maki. 

"So," Maki says, distributing breakfast, "what's your plan for catching the people sending you stuff?" 

Nico grins and, once she's made sure she's caught Maki's eyes, flips over a stack of paper on the table to reveal all the dog memes that were printed. 

Maki chokes on her coffee. "Is this the picture they tried so hard to print?" she asks. It's a picture of a dog with shades and a backpack and the (probably) fake headline "Local Dog Too Cool For Town." 

"Yep," Nico says exasperatedly. Maki looks at her, trying to hide a laugh, and it's...really cute. Nico acquiesces and laughs with her and just. Damn she likes this girl. The moment ends, though, and Nico clears her throat, a little unsure of how to proceed. "I, um, was thinking that we could use these as posters," she explains. 

"Like, you'd write on them, then hang them up?" Maki asks. 

"Yes," Nico says, nodding. "I was thinking something like 'come get your dog pictures, dipshit.'" 

Maki snorts. "Yeah I'm sure that would go over well with your building."

Nico chuckles. "How about 'Is this your picture? See Nico in 205 if it is.'" 

"Sure." Maki shrugs. "Hopefully they'll actually listen and come by." 

"We have to hope," Nico says. 

The two of them eat their breakfast and somehow find something to talk about, though they saw each other twelve hours ago. It actually doesn't feel forced at all, Nico reflects, and that thought is a little...unsettling? But it shouldn't be. They've been friends for like three years, of course they'd be able to keep up a conversation. She must look agitated because Maki picks up on it and starts to twirl her hair nervously in response. 

"You ok?" she asks. 

"Hmm?" Nico says. "Oh, yeah, I am." And she is. She smiles, and Maki calms down a little. Her hand leaves her hair and floats for a second, unsure of where to go. She grabs her napkin and balls it up in her fist for something to do, then just kind of tosses in onto the wrapper of her breakfast sandwich. Nico bites back a laugh, stands up, and collects their trash to throw it away. She returns from the kitchen with two pens and throws one at Maki, who just barely catches it. 

"What was that for?" she asks, glowering. 

"Help me make these into posters," Nico says, gesturing to the dog pictures. 

Maki rolls her eyes. "Fine." 

It takes them about fifteen minutes to write on all of them, and they only argue about what they should say like once, which is honestly good for them. When they're done, Nico grabs the posters and some tape and the two of them head out the door. 

"We need to think of the best places to hang these," Nico says. "We only have fourteen of them." 

Maki snorts. "Your building only has five stories." 

Nico tilts her head. "True." She thrusts the posters and tape into Maki's arms. "You hold these and I'll find the best spots to put them up since it's my building." 

Maki scowls at her, but holds the materials anyway. They start to walk down the hallway, Nico detailing her plan for putting the posters up. "Let's see, we should put one on each floor outside the elevator, one on each landing in the stairwell, one actually in the elevator, and the rest in the lobby." 

"God, I can't believe I'm dating Harriet the Spy," Maki says, and Nico decides to ignore the very obvious short joke in favor of the other part of the sentence.

She whirls around to face Maki with a grin on her face and Maki bites her lip, looking worried. "Dating?" Nico asks, grinning ear to ear. "So that means you do want a second date?" 

Maki flushes and twirls a piece of her hair with her finger. "I guess it depends," she says, glancing at Nico. 

"On!?" Nico asks. 

"Whether or not you actually get these people to come to your apartment." 

"I will!" Nico says, pointing at her. "Nico Yazawa doesn't fail!" 

Maki tries unsuccessfully to hide a laugh and Nico rocks back on her heels, chagrined to realize how transparent she was being. "Elevator's this way," she says sheepishly. 

They put up the posters and return to Nico's apartment. Within an hour, Nico is pacing back and forth in front of the door. It's not that she expected immediate results, per say, she just has something to prove now! ...And maybe she expected immediate results. 

"Come sit down," Maki says from the couch. "You're making me nervous." 

"That's not that hard to do," Nico says, but goes to sit down anyway. 

Maki kicks her. "Shut up." She tosses Nico the remote. "You want to watch something?" 

Nico shrugs, bouncing her leg. "Sure, what do you want to watch?" They decide on a movie and put it on. Five minutes into it, Nico's leg is still bouncing impatiently. Maki sighs and swings her legs up onto Nico's lap. Nico stares at them, a hint of a blush forming high in her cheeks. 

"Chill," Maki says, and settles in to watch the movie. Nico just kind of sets her arms on top of Maki's legs, but it takes a while for her to get completely comfortable. 

The results of the posters might not be immediate, but they are swift. The movie is just about to end when there's a knock on Nico's door. Nico pushes Maki's legs unceremoniously off her lap and springs to her feet. Maki sighs and pauses the movie. 

Nico walks quickly to the door and all but wrenches it open in her excitement. "Hi, are you here about the posters?" she asks. 

There are two women at the door, a tall blonde women who had just been the one knocking and a shorter woman with purple hair smirking behind her. "Um, yes," the blonde one says nervously. Actually, everything about her seems nervous. One hand rubs the back of her neck and the other fiddles with the hem of her jeans. Nico notes that neither of them is, in fact, a child. 

It's not the most prominent thought in her head though, made evident by her turning around and pointing at Maki. "HA!" she says. "I told you the posters would work! You owe me a second date!" 

Maki rolls her eyes and looks away, but smiles, a slight blush creeping across her cheeks. When Nico turns around, the blonde woman looks alarmed, or maybe overwhelmed at the events and struggles to maintain composure. Her friend behind her just grins wider. "Um, I'm looking for Nico," the blonde one says. "Is he here?" 

Nico's triumphant grin turns into a scowl and she crosses her arms and slumps against the door. "You're speaking to her." The blonde girl's friend snorts and Nico hears a snigger behind her that she knows is coming from Maki, but she refuses to look at either of them. 

The blonde girl looks mortified. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry," she says. She sticks a rigid hand out, which Nico regards for a second before taking. "I'm Eli Ayase and this is my girlfriend Nozomi," she jerks her free thumb over her shoulder, "we live in 314 and we were the ones sending things to your printer." Hmm, so her girlfriend, not just her friend. "It was completely by accident. I think we have the same model printer? So I clicked on it when I was trying to print that picture and I guess it sent it to yours..." Ahh, well that makes sense. "Um, could we maybe invite you and your...friend? Girlfriend? You mentioned something about a second date...over for dinner sometime to make up for it? I'm so, so sorry." 

"Really, it's fine," Nico says, giving in and comforting this anxious woman at her door. The dog pictures were clearly mistakes, though the other messages... Nico peeks over the blon--Eli's shoulder and sees Nozomi holding in a laugh as best she can. Yeah, those messages weren't accidents at all. She narrows her eyes and Nozomi's grin threatens to crack. She looks away and puts a hand over her mouth. Nico closes her eyes and turns around, exasperated. "Would you want to go to dinner?" She asks Maki, who is now leafing through a magazine on Nico's coffee table. 

"If I do, it counts as our second date," Maki says without looking up. 

"I'll make sure the food is good!" Eli chimes in from behind them and it's so earnest that Nico bursts out laughing. 

"Alright," she says, wiping her eyes and turning around, "I guess just give me date and time and we'll be there." 

"Thank you," Eli says. "We just moved here a few weeks ago and we don't know many people. I was actually trying to print out that picture to put on our fridge since it looks pretty bare right now." 

"I think this might have happened when we first moved here too," Nozomi says, coming up to rest her hand on Eli's shoulder. "Eli tried to print out a picture of her sister's dog for the fridge but it didn't go through to our printer. It probably ended up in yours." 

Nico nods. "Yeah, I remember that dog. Was it a Samoyed?" 

"That's the one!" Nozomi says cheerfully. "Well, nice to meet you, Nico and..." she peers around Nico to look at Maki on the couch, still flipping through the magazine aimlessly. 

"Maki," Nico hisses, and she looks up. 

"Hmm?" 

"Your name?" 

"Oh, Maki," she says, with a look that says 'why didn't you tell her?' 

 "Very nice to meet you," Eli agrees, shaking Nico's hand again. "And we're so sorry for all the trouble we caused you." 

"Won't happen again," Nozomi adds. She, too, takes Nico's hand and smirks. Nico narrows her eyes a little. 

They say their goodbyes and leave. The next day, Eli slips a note under the door with the date and time she was thinking for dinner and Nico texts Maki and marks it in her phone calendar. When she's done, she heads to her room and finds a new note in the printer tray, reading, "In case Eli's note gets lost in the shuffle," and the date and time of the dinner. It's signed Nozomi, and Nico stares at it before crumpling it up and throwing it in the trash with a roll of her eyes.

[knockoutlives]

Whatever they offer you, don’t feed the plants.

Josh: Mom just told me. congrats.

Troi: I am so proud of you Vinny! Congratulations babe! I've never been happier for you, for us!

Spencer: Congratulations Vinny! When Adam gets back from his Medical Retreat we need to go for drinks! Congrats!

Abby: Congrats big brother! I can't wait to come visit and see you on stage!

Amelia: Congratulations! I’ll see you at 2 for lunch and you can tell me all about it! Mak: Congratulations Vinny!

Kevin. MY. GOD. VINCENT ANDREW DEPOLA HOW ON EARTH DID YOU KEEP THIS HIDDEN FROM ME?!?! CONGRATULATIONS ON BEING CAST AS SEYMOUR!

Unknown Number: Congratulations!

V: thanks, who's this?

(718) 565-3489: you know who this is, we met up for drinks the other night in Queens.

(718) 565-3489 : had to get out of Manhattan to make sure your boyfriend didn't hear anything about it.

V: oh ya, thanks.

(718) 565-3489 : that's it? I'll remember that the next time we hook up, and you wanna fuck me.

Vinny sighed and looked from the phone in his gloved hands, to the city street in front of him. Scanning the empty street for anyone he could potentially know. As if even seeing them would allow the other to know who Vinny was messaging. The sender's comments made him recall the night in questions, and the corners of his lips pulled into a smile as he replied.  

V: listen, I've got some things to do today. So I'm going to have to cut this short. But, I expect to see you at my place tonight at 6. He’ll be gone for a few hours.

(718) 565-3489 : fire escape, or front door.

V: fire escape, just so you don't run into him. I don't need that

(718) 565-3489 : Your wish is my command - T

Upon sending his last message Vinny locked his phone and let out an even heavier sigh as he leaned on the concrete wall of the building he had just walked out of prior to the bombardment of Text​ message - well wishes. Pushing off of the wall Vinny began his walk down the street heading towards Times Square, and the subway. There was a slight chill in the air, causing Vinny to wrap his arms around his midsection, and pulling his leather jacket closer to his body to conserve warmth.

A smile began to tug at his lips again as he recounted the morning.

--

The day had already began to speed by, though when one wakes up at six to be out the door by seven the time just begins to fly from the second you actually leave the bed. He had left Troi in the warm blankets that morning, to make his way to the gym to beat the rush. (The treadmill he liked at his gym always seemed to be taken if he was late, even If it was by five minutes.) So arriving precisely at seven fifteen gave him enough time to get his workout, shower, and get dressed into human attire by eight. Today had been no different until he left the gym and his phone began buzzing, like a virgin's vibrator on crack.

“Hello, This is Vincent….”  

“Vinny, it's Camille! Would you be able to stop by the midtown studio space this morning?”

“Of course I can! What time?”

“Now, would be nice”

“I'm on my way, I’ll be there by nine!”

Jumping on the subway almost immediately after the phone call, Vinny had arrived at the rehearsal space to find his agent Camille in the lobby of the building looking as if she had just ran down the stairs of the familiar building from the rehearsal space on the fifth floor.

“Vinny!” The woman said with a grin as she took the boy into her arms. Camille was quite short, so she normally came up to Vinny's shoulder, but in her heels today she was almost at eye level. “I'm so glad you could make it, I have two people who would really like to speak to you. It was last minute but apparently they're on a tight schedule. So they needed to get a hold of you A-S-A-P.” “Oh, alright?” Vinny said confusion clear on his face. “Vinny..” Camille said her grin still growing as she stepped into the elevator and dragging Vinny in with her,  the door closing behind them “...you got the part! You’re Seymour!”

-- 2:30 PM Cilantro - Upper West Side, New York City

“Oh, the second your mom read that Playbill article, it got plastered all over Facebook and you were tagged EVERY TIME. If I didn't get the call from Chrissy, I would have seen at least one of the 25 posts your family made!”

“God Amelia, I'm glad we weren't friends when I made it into Idiot. She went crazy. You would never have let me live it down. I mean I shouldn't complain though. She is my mother, Troi’s is just as bad.”

“I mean I would kill for my mom to be half as excited about a part I get. But that my friend is a totally different story. How was Troi when he found out?”

“Oh, he was happy. He had a bunch of errands to run earlier before he got to the studio earlier. So we haven't talked much just yet.”

Amelia took a sip of her mimosa and smiled across the table at Vinny. She was probably the oldest friend he had in the city, nonetheless​ the only one here who knew almost all of Vinny's past with and without Troi. The pair had met when Vinny was touring with American Idiot, and freshly single. In a different time and place Vinny felt Amelia might have been a perfect girlfriend for him, but with her lack of the desired plumbing and the fact that on one drunken night they may have made out, she held the coveted best friend spot and nothing more. But, of course Vinny never told Prima he might have been replaced. “Im glad things are finally working out between you guys. It was rough for a while on tour there. Until, you and Travis were a thing for a bit. You know he's in the city now, I dunno for how long but he’s got a place in Queens.” “Ya don't say?” Vinny said grabbing his Margarita and taking a large gulp of the drink.

“Ya, but we all know how you feel about taking the W into Queens. Vincent Depola doesn’t leave Manhattan unless it’s for a good reason.”

Almost instantly Vinny placed his drink down with a little too much force, and looked from Amelia to his phone. “Looks like I struck a nerve?” “No, I’m just not really in the mood to deal with any drama. And, you know drama follows him.” “Oh I know, I was living through the times of you guys screwing around AND the months following when y’all were just hating fucking. Thank god thats over” “Amen” Vinny added as he looked down at their empty plates. “So when are you going back on tour? Or, are you looking more for something more stable in the city?” “Well it depends on how the next two weeks go on Raph’s residency. I’ve got a few auditions lined up either way. If he’s leaving the city, I might jump on a tour, but there are also some workshops in and out of the city I could hop into if he stays. Why? Are you already going through withdrawls from me?” Laughing Vinny added “No! Well sort of.. I dunno.” “What’s eating at you?” Amelia responded, her tone switching almost instantly from upbeat to concern. “Nothing really, I mean it’s just weird to finally be tied down…” Sipping at his drink he continued. “...Like literally I went from the tour, to spending time home for a few months, and now I'm with Troi in New York. This isn't little old Trigger, this is the real world. And believe me I have never been happier with Troi but I just, I'm by myself too much. Granted now that I'm in the show I'll be able to rehearse and spend time with other people. But, until then it was just Troi and I, and on occasion Spadam. And you know how it is dating a dancer, or at least someone in a similar field as you. If your schedule don't align sometimes you're lucky to see them at night, again if you're lucky.”

“You sound perfectly normal Vin! It sucks, you know I know it. And that’s why I’m engaged to a doctor now. But, this is just your nerves from being pent up this long without anything really happening. Ya, you had the audition grind going, but until something happens you're on edge waiting to snap. You're in a Broadway Show now, you're going to be fine.”

Sighing, Vinny looked over at Amelia with a smile now. “I am. I'm in a Little Shop of Fucking Horrors. Finally!”

“And that's why this is on me” She added placing a credit card on the check.

--- 4:45 PM

Stepping back into the cold afternoon air the two embraced in front of the store for a moment, and then Vinny began his walk towards Central Park. Though the park wasn't too crowded this time of day, Vinny didn't mind the people that much. And, it was the fastest way to get home even if it did take him almost an hour at his leisurely pace. He enjoyed his time alone, it was something he got a lot of. But, ever since the tour ended and he went back to Trigger, it hadn't felt like he had taken a moment to just breathe, even when he was alone.

One moment he was single, and moving back home, the next he had a date with Troi. A date, that put them back on each other's radars. It took some time before he was even capable to even think about kissing Troi. Then it just happened, and happened, and happened. Numerous times, sometimes multiple at a time. Things just fell back into place, as if it was a four piece puzzle, not the complex thousand piece jigsaw their lives really were. It’s not that the two forgot about their previous qualms, but they spent almost a month just accepting the past was in the past, taking a tip from a popular ice queen and just ‘letting it go’. Most importantly though Blaise Monroe was out of their lives, and one thousand two hundred and eighty four miles away living a poor excuse of a life in Trigger, what a wash-up.

There were some days though that Vinny wondered what would have happened if he was still in Trigger? If the couple hadn’t rekindled and moved back to NYC to share Troi’s loft apartment. Would he be on another tour? Would he just be living the same washed up life, that Blaise Monroe was currently living? Or, would Travis still be in the picture, or at least in more then---

“Watch it man!” a cab driver shouted as Vinny stepped back onto the curb, lost in his thoughts and almost catching the cab’s drivers side mirror. “Damn it” Vinny mumbled under his breathe as he regained his bearings. About Halfway through the park, he could see the back of the Metropolitan Museum of Art on his left, and knew he had to go a bit more south if he wanted to get into his neighborhood without leaving the park. Walking on the streets around the park was almost as bad as Times Square. Why people flocked to this place, not even he knew. It was a beautiful park, but there were other wonders to see in the city. That were not inhabited by homeless people pissing all around, or thirsty gays cruising the bathrooms.  Turning passed the Alice in Wonderland statue, Vinny felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist and Troi’s voice enter his ears.   “Hey there handsome” Leaning back into the other man’s arms Vinny felt his cheeks rise into a smile. Turning around he placed his hands around Troi’s neck and kissed him softly, letting his short beard rub against Troi’s stubble ridden face. “How’s my boyfriend? No excuse me how’s the new Seymour Krelborn in the Little Shop Revival!“ “I’m fine! I’m fine! Still letting it all sink in!” Vinny responded to Troi’s enthusiasm with his own. “Of course you are!” “How’d you know I was here?” Vinny added as he laced his hand into his boyfriends and continued the walk towards their apartment. “ I mean I’m far from complaining at all, I just thought you were going to be at the studio for most of the night teaching” “I was talking to Rhea about finding out you got the part, and she said she’d cover my night class. Under the conditions that I take you out to celebrate.” “ I will never feel bad about getting to spend more time with you babe, but that is entirely your call.” Looking away from his boyfriend and around the street to see where they had exited the park. Stopping for the light Vinny sighed softly, inaudible to anyone but himself,  

“Of course I want to take you out tonight! Do you mind if I take a run to the gym first though?”

Almost immediately Vinny smiled at Troi and nodded his head. “Ya, totally!” Vinny added with a little too much excitement.

“Wow, someone's happy I'm not just at the studio,and actually going out of my way to put a little extra muscle on.”

Vinny couldn't help but laugh at his boyfriend's response as he reached his free hand over to jokingly feel Troi’s abs.

“Not enough yet.”

-- 5:55 PM

(718) 565-3489 : I should be there a little after seven ;)

“Vinny! Have you seen my shaker?”

Quickly locking his phone, Vinny looked up from the couch towards his boyfriend in the bathroom. “Uh, probably in the kitchen, or maybe your gym bag?” He added hopping up from his place on the couch and moving towards the window to unlock it. “Do you need a protein shake today? I mean we are going for dinner afterwards. I don't want to be the one eating a five course meal and then you have a carrot. Those days are long over.”

Emerging from the bathroom Troi was in a pair of joggers and a t-shirt, tugging on a hoodie while almost walking into their kitchen counter. “You're right I guess, I'm only gonna be gone for forty five minutes max.”

“Good! Now go! I'm hungry” Vinny shot back playfully at Troi, as he wrapped his arms around the other and kissed him softly. Biting Troi's lower lip gently, Vinny pulled away and ran his hands over Troi's abdomen once more. “I love you.”

“I love you too!” Troi added with another quick peck, as he gathered his keys and drawstring bag and headed out the door.

As soon as the door shut Vinny practically ran too it to lock both the deadbolt and chain the door, making sure there was no way of potential disruptions. From the door, he made his way to the bathroom to throw some water on his face and check his reflection. He had changed when he had gotten home, from his casual wear to his Grade-A bum attire. Sweat shorts, an oversized hoodie, and his thick framed glasses Because, contacts just hurt after a while.

Staring at himself in the mirror Vinny closed his eyes tightly and ran a hand through his messy hair. Then he heard it, a light rapping on the living room window. The window had opened as he returned to the room to see his guest finishing his window entrance. Brushing himself off and placing his bag on the floor, Vinny’s eyes trailed up the familiar body and he smiled when he reached the man’s face which was covered in shadow from his hood. Not caring about the cold breeze coming through the open window, Vinny stepped closer and placed his lips to the other man’s. Wrapping his arms around him, Vinny broke the kiss to place his head on the others shoulder. The other man did not hesitate to place his stubble ridden mouth onto Vinny’s now exposed neck, tugging lightly on the skin with his teeth. Swatting the back of the man’s head Vinny dragged them down to the couch, where he was straddled by the other male. “No marks!” Reaching around the others waistband, Vinny let his hands wander across the other’s ass and playfully squeezed. Catching the other's mouth in his own Vinny began to remove the others hoodie when --

“Fighting evil by moonlight, winning love by daylight, never running from a real fight. She is the one named Sailor Moon!”

“Fuck, Fuck, Fuck,” The other said un-straddling Vinny as the latter ran his hands up his face and began laughing softly. Standing up and closing the window; the other man leaned on the counter top, one arm on the counter the other rubbing his face.

Laughing still, Vinny bent down and fished out two phones from the bag by the window and brought them over too the counter. Placing his hand on the other’s neck he ran it north towards the man's hair,  and in doing so he pushed down the hood revealing Troi from the shadow.

“Babe, next time you decide to seduce me as a stranger. Turn your old phone’s ringer off ,maybe?”

Grinning at his boyfriend Troi grabbed Vinny's waist to pull him into his side, and kiss the other's forehead while on the balls of his feet. Still biting back laughter Vinny pulled Troi into his chest and kissed the top of the shorter boys head.

“Jeeze, I wish I could say this was the first time I've been cock blocked by Sailor Moon.”

“Hey, it's probably my mother trying to get a hold of you in the first place.”

“Even better! I wish I could say that this was the first time getting cock blocked by your mother.”

Picking up the iPhone in the Sailor Moon case, Vinny saw the missed call was in fact from his future mother in law, and handed the phone back to Troi; before returning to the foreign phone still on the counter.

“So this, is what's finally given you a New York area code.” “Surprise!” Troi added sarcastically as he relocated by hugging the other from behind. Vinny, while toying around with the phone, felt Troi run his hands down his sides and under his hoodie. “ I can give you the entire tour of it, after we take care of something else.” Letting,his hands lower from Vinny’s abs, Troi slipped under the waistband of Vinny’s sweatpants and began searching for his target.

“Oh really now?” Vinny said as he turned (not gracefully) to face his boyfriend, and caught Troi’s lips in his own. Running his own hands across the other’s chest, Vinny straightened himself up and walked Troi backwards to their room. Breaking the kiss, as they crossed the threshold into the dark room Vinny softly pushed Troi onto the bed, and closed the door behind him. “I mean you still need to get a workout in before dinner” “I mean I could use a protein shot.” “Oh ya? Like you needed one the other night at that shady speakeasy in Astoria?” “Hey, that dinner was painful, a little exciting sex in a seedy bathroom livened it up a bit” “God I love you..” Running his hands down Troi’s sides Vinny noticed that in the time it took him to close the door, and make the room completely black Troi had removed his shirt and hoodie. His skin warm, as Vinny felt the smaller boy quiver under his touch. Tracing designs along the other’s chest, his hands teased the soft skin of Troi’s nipples. Where he tweaked the other softly, gaining an audible gasp from the boy under his touch. ‘I thought you weren’t going to follow through with your texts when Rhea let you out early.” Leaning down towards Troi’s left nipple Vinny placed his lips and began teasing the other with his tongue and biting softly on the erect flesh. “And miss out on this? Why did you think I decided to go to the gym? Babe,” Troi gasped and tried to regain his composure. “...today is my off day. I was at the studio all morning. You’re lucky I was able to climb the fire-escape at all.” As Vinny continued to work on Troi’s nipples, and enjoyed the soft sounds of pleasure his boyfriend was making; he began to run his hands up Troi’s muscular arms. Tracing where he knew the other’s key tattoo was, and up his shoulder where his right hand gripped the soft skin that led to Troi’s neck and jawline. Reaching down past Troi’s stomach and into the other’s sweatpants, Vinny squeezed the package that was clad in only a jock-strap. Removing his hand from near Troi’s neck, Vinny leaned up and let his lips mash against Troi’s hungry mouth. Troi wrapped his legs around Vinny’s waist as his boyfriend began to give his neck the same treatment he had previously did on his nipple. Removing his hand from Troi’s sweatpants, Vinny shucked his hoodie off while Troi greedily pulled his muscular boyfriend towards him. Vinny’s skin warming the other’s cold skin under him. While their lips waged war upon each other, their bodies worked together to have Vinny grind on Troi in ways that made the smaller boy moan through their kissing. “And to think, I used to be The Screamer.” Vinny added between panting, as Troi began to suck on his shoulder while his hands need-ily pushed Vinny’s sweat-shorts down. Leaving him exposed to the room, and in position to finish the job the two had set out to do from the beginning. Troi’s sweatpants were next to go as the warmth of their skin on skin began to drive the two wild. Reaching for the lube they kept in the bedside drawer, Vinny’s length pressed up against Troi’s grundle sending the other a bit over the edge. From the touch of Vinny’s length, and the restraint of his jockstrap Troi moaned louder than before, as Vinny silenced him with his lips covering the others. Managing to open the bottle of lube with one hand, and steady Troi with the other, Vinny was about to finish his preparations when --- “Fighting evil by moonlight, winning love by daylight, never running from a real fight. She is the one named Sailor Moon!” Troi let out a groan as he heard his phone go off again, using both of his hands he grabbed Vinny’s waist and looked for the others eyes in the darkness. Feeling Vinny’s nose rub up against the bridge of his own, he looked into where the others eyes were, and pleaded with him. “Forget it, and Fuck me.” Troi all but whispered as he slid his lips once more over his boyfriends.

And Vinny did.