#I’ve been thinking of him nonstop since I first watched the movie I feel sick in the head

[windshieldwiper]

spiderpunk has me on chokehold

[anotheranimestan]

Sweet Intoxication

Tamaki fans!! Come get yo juice!

Tamaki fluff with a lil spice (just a lil)

wc: 3.2k

I can’t be the only one who thinks the Suneater is 🤤 I could write about him for days

Being UA High’s #4 ranked third year, it’s no surprise you’d created a great friendship with the Big Three. You were particularly close with the group’s resident “kitten” as Nejire liked to call him. You met during your first year when you were sat next to each other during class. He was so shy and wouldn’t talk to anyone except Mirio, even despite your many attempts at making conversation.

Until one day, you hurt yourself during practical training and he offered to walk you to the nurses office (much to everyone’s surprise). The entire time he was dead silent with a look of pure embarrassment across his face since you had to cling to him to walk. Once he dropped you off you expected him to leave while Recovery Girl fixed you up. But when you exited the office, there he was. Sitting on the floor waiting for you, his face riddle with concern.

When he spotted you his eyes lit up. “So um-are you okay y/n?”

It was the first time you got to hear his soft voice so clearly. It made your heart swell. You knew right then you wanted to keep him.

Ever after that moment you two stayed close and kept an eye on each other. He was still timid at first but over the years it blossomed into an air-tight friendship. You were practically apart of the Amajiki family after the amount of dinners you had with them. Not a day went by that you two didn’t walk home from school together.

That is until today. You see, during lunch Nejire let it slip that Tamaki had a crush on you when she thought you couldn’t hear. Little did she know you were standing right behind her as you approached the lunch table.

You were so caught off guard and your eyes grew wide as you locked eyes with your best friend. His face was pure horrid humiliation. Mirio desperately tried to make light of the situation and pretend it was all a joke but the damage had already been done.

Tamaki immediately fled the cafeteria, knocking over a few first years on his way out.

You were still frozen in place trying to process what was happening. You definitely didn’t expect him to have a crush on anyone, let alone you. He never talked about romantic interests like that. And considering he tells you almost everything on his mind you’d think you’d have some sort of inkling about this.

Your train of thought was quickly interrupted by the horrible thought of how much of a hit to Tamaki’s self-confidence this probably was. He’d become so much stronger and more social. You couldn’t let all his hard work get reversed.

You chased after him but he was gone. Disappeared off the face of the planet for the rest of the day.

You were worried sick and couldn’t think about anything else but finding him.

As soon as the final bell rang you bolted for the Amajiki house. Of course his mother let you in with no hesitations and immediately informed you of his exact location (His room. Where else? That’s where he was always hiding). Although the suspicious look on her face told you that Tamaki’s condition must be bad. He probably came home early and locked himself away without a word. Not completely out of character, let’s be honest, but still it didn’t put you at ease.

You slowly approached his door trying to form some kind of plan to fix this. What was the best tactic though? Should you tell him? Tell him that you’ve secretly been crushing on him this whole time? Since that day at the nurse’s office when he held your hand for the first time? When his voice alone captured your heart. You were sick over the thought. You’d desperately tried to keep it a secret and hadn’t told anyone, even Nejire (for obvious reasons). You were scared that you’d scare him away with your feelings. You’d rather have him as a friend than nothing but that didn’t stop you from constantly dreaming of kissing him or holding hands again or cuddling every night while watching his favorite movies.

You didn’t have an exact plan but you desperately wanted him back so you had to try something. Anything.

The door was locked. You knocked as gently as possible. He was easy to scare.

“Tamaki? It’s me. Let me in.”

You heard a miserable groan from behind the door. “Please leave me alone to die.” He plead from inside. Always one for the dramatics. Something you secretly loved.

“Come on! You’re really going to lock me out like this? A bit dramatic don’t you think?” You insisted, slightly amused.

And just like that the lock clicked open. You let yourself in. It was dark except a little glowing ball lamp in the corner of the room that illuminated everything up with an indigo glow.

He was sitting on his bed against the wall, hugging his knees and burying his face.

You shut the door behind you and stood for a moment. You really just wanted to run over there and cuddle him. Tell him every reason you’re putty for him. But you didn’t want to push him. There was an art to dealing with a mopey Tamaki and you knew it well.

“So how long have you been sitting up here? I hope you at least finally ate some lunch.”

He peeked his head up at you. You were rustling a bag filled with his favorite snacks. You saved these in your locker for moments exactly like these.

Your heart fluttered when you saw those eyes you loved so much. Although his eyebrow were furrowed in embarrassment, still, he looked adorable as ever.

You took this moment as an opening and slowly approached, careful not to spook.

You took the spot directly in front of him. He’d still not managed to look you directly in the eyes.

“Sooo...” This is where you had no game plan left.

You finally had the chance to feel nervous now that you knew he was okay. Your heart started racing in your chest as the anxiety coursed through your body.

“This is the worst day of my life.” He concluded covering his face again with his hands.

You rolled your eyes. “I think there are worse things.”

“Like what?” He said like he was proving a point.

“Like...” You exhaled and gave your honest answer without thinking. “losing your best friend.”

He groaned again. “That’s exactly what I’m saying, y/n!”

Your head tilted. “What?”

“I can never talk to you again now.” The pure teenage agony in his voice was ridiculous.

You giggled. “You’re talking to me right now, dummy.”

“And now you’re laughing at me.” He leaned his head back against the wall in distress.

You reached up and grabbed one of his hands, pulling it away from his face.

“I’ll be very offended if you stop talking to me.” You inform him with humor in your tone.

He looked down at you finally. You were breaking through.

“But...aren’t you weirded out?” He was grimacing at the horrible cafeteria memory that had been replaying nonstop in his mind.

You laughed.

“No more weirded out than usual.” You poke him in the stomach. He was aggressively ticklish so he jumped and grabbed your hand instinctively. Now you could see his whole face again and you were so relieved. You missed it.

His eyes were trained on your hands and he nervously played with your fingers. He did this a lot and it always sent butterflies flying in your stomach.

“You ran out the cafeteria so fast you didn’t even stay for my reaction. Also, those first years are gonna be looking for revenge tomorrow.”

He cracked a tiny smile.

“So...what is your reaction?”

The nerves were really electric now. You almost panicked. Were you really about to admit to your long time crush just how head over heels you were for him?

You were silent for a while which didn’t put Tamaki at ease. He was sure you were going to reject him. You were way out of his league. You were heavenly and pure beauty in his eyes. You could make him warm just by smiling at him that’s how much he loved your aura. How could you be into a loser like him. He could barely stand up straight next to you and the other members of the Big Three. You didn’t know it but right under the bed you sat on he had a hidden a sketch book filled with his drawings of you. Or at least attempts as he called them. He could never capture the curl of your eyelashes or the soft slope of your neck quite right. And the lips. They were always off. Yours had this perfect kissable quality to them that he wished he could experience rather than just draw onto paper.

His pining was interrupted by your sharp inhale as you began to answer. He looked at you under his thick lashes, dying to hear your response. It made your cheeks burn and the words get caught in your throat. Your mind must have overheated because it completely shut down and your body acted on its own.

You didn’t say a word. You just pulled his legs down from against his body and climbed onto him. You wrapped your arms and legs completely around his body like a teddy bear and squeezed him tight.

At first he was stunned but quickly recovered and hugged you back. Your hair was completely covering his face but it was comforting being indulged in your familiar scent of shampoo.

You two confided in each other for a long moment. No words could express what you were trying to say.

After a while you pulled back to look at him. Big mistake. The soft glow of the rich indigo light made him look dream-like. Suddenly you were picturing all the things you had been imagining doing with him...to him.

He wasn’t blind to the way you were staring at him. Blank eyes lost in thought and lips parted like they wanted something. You looked angelic. Sitting on his lap and holding him tight. You were exactly what he needed.

He knew this could be the moment he’d been waiting for all these years. But of course his usual anxiety was holding him back from experiencing you like he wanted. You were so so perfect. He couldn’t possibly...

Your brain switched on just for a moment to spill out a few incoherent words. “I want...this....you. I’ve been.”

Overwhelmed by your words he finally gave into his desires as his head dipped down into the nook of your neck. His lips hovered over your skin and you felt his hot breath ticking your sensitive spot. You wished he wasn’t so hesitant but you could also easily savor this moment forever. Tamaki was finally satisfying your craving for him.

Your hand rolled up gently into his silky hair and your eyes fluttered shut when he finally made contact.

His lips were so soft and molded perfectly into the curve of your neck. He slowly trailed around your collar bones and up to your ear.

Your face nuzzled into him as he tasted you.

His gentle touch made your heart swell and bespelled your body to curl into him more and more.

His tongue began grazing the tender skin he’d laid the ground work on. Dragging circles around your sweet spots and sealing them with kisses. His warm breath sending chills through your through your muscles.

The sweet rhythm of his breathing, his snug hold on your waist and the vibrating hums of enjoyment resounding in his chest...

He was mesmerizing. This little Suneater easily held you in a trance like it was nothing and without even knowing it. Your body was soft like dough, molding into him as you succumbed to his warmth. Your head had fallen limp to the side so he could access as much as he desired.

His voice was thick like honey as he shyly spoke into your ear. “You...taste really good.”

Your eyes were still locked shut, under hypnosis but a smile spread across your face.

“Does that mean one of your limbs is going to turn into me?” You said with a drunk little giggle.

He noticeably shrunk under your words. “Please don’t tease me. You’re making me so nervous already.” He cried desperately.

Your eyes finally cracked open to look at him properly. His face was wrapped in conflict and self-doubt as usual.

So many responses flashed through your mind but only one managed it’s way past your lips. There was truly only one thing you wanted to say anyways. “Can you kiss me please?”

You needed more of him, his previous performance already had you hooked and aching.

Red flush spread across his cheekbones and the tips of his pointy ears. His gaze fell under as he considered something. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time. I’m honestly surprised I’m even getting the chance.”

As if you weren’t already deep under his spell, his words managed to further melt you like butter.

His voice was dark velvet. A sharp contrast to his normal shaky tone. “I just want to ask...do you really like me?”

“Tamaki...forget like...I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.”

Your words slipped out of your mouth but it was like hearing them underwater. You were so detached from reality in this moment. Just pure bliss was conducting your movements while your mind was on hiatus.

His red washed face turned bashful as he tried to comprehend your words. He couldn’t stop a cute little grin from spreading across his face.

Before he could recover enough to verbally respond, your thumb placed itself on his bottom lip that was still lightly swollen from exploring your neck. The weight of your hand pulled it down to expose his pearly white bottom teeth.

This pouty look made him even more appealing, your mouth was practically watering at the handsome sight before you.

He acknowledged your hungry look as his invitation and his pouty lip puckered around the pad of your thumb. He placed kisses on each of your fingers and finally your knuckles before he pulled you close to him.

The movement wafted some of his cologne into your nose and just like that you were drunk on him again. He could have you.

His lips pressed into yours and it was like your whole world came to fruition. You realized then just how badly you’d wanted this. He trapped your bottom lip and gently sucked letting his tongue start it’s magic again.

Your arms contracted around his neck to pull him as close as possible and he respectively deepened his kiss.

He nibbled on your lip just enough for butterflies to start flapping around on your chest. Just when you think you’ve hit sensory overload he whips out something new. You already identified kissing him as your new addiction before your first kiss was even over.

His confidence was slowly building as he became more familiar with the curves of your mouth. Assessing exactly what you were liking by the barely audible gasps of euphoria you were making.

He strung you along for a while like this, each next move being more endearing than the last until finally he pulled away to give your lungs a chance to pull in some air. Obviously you didn’t want oxygen right now but at least you got to be intoxicated by some more of his scent.

“You’re so pretty.” He mused as his eyes glazed over your features. “And—and your lips are really soft.”

Suddenly a little self-consciousness washed over you. You weren’t used to his compliments like that. You accommodated this by nuzzling your face into his. Your lips were drawn to his cheek and you littered kissed all over, using your other hand to trace his jawline. He closed his eyes so he could focus on your touch. It was sending him over an edge having you on him like this. You felt his breathing deepen as you started gently sucking on the nook of his neck. Your hand fell and started exploring his chest. He didn’t look it but he was concealing muscle under his baggy shirts and you were dying to feel them.

Just when your teeth grazed the red blood pooled spot you’d been working on, a soft moan escaped his lips. He was lost under your control.

Without warning he shifted you down on your back with ease. Taking care to support your head as you fell onto the pillow.

He crawled on top of you between your legs and supported his weight on his forearms.

This sudden bold streak was really turning you on.

He spared no time as he tugged your shirt collar down just a bit to expose that sensitive part of your neck again that he just loved so much.

His tongue teased it with a few gentle circles before his mouth came down instense and started sucking.

Normally this sort of thing would hurt but you were so entranced that it only felt like a rush of intense pleasure. You ran your fingers through his hair encouraging him to do exactly what you suspected he was doing. You squirmed gently under his heavy body as he targeted your neck. Your hands slipped under his shirt and you got to feel the smooth skin over his broad back muscles which contracted as he moved.

Suddenly you let out a little squeal as the pleasure turned to a little shooting pain. He snapped out of it and brought his face back to yours. Nose to nose.

You glanced down at his work to see a little red bruise the size of a coin. For some reason you loved the idea of Tamaki giving you a little mark.

“Sorry y/n, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You bit your lip, his concerned face was so cute. It reminded you of that day so long ago when you first realized you wanted him.

“Put another one.” You said only half joking.

He laughed nervously. You took his face in both your hands. Today couldn’t have gone more perfectly.

“I didn’t reply before but...I want you too.” He mews with soft eyes.

Just when you think your body is completely melted, he finds one more spot he missed.

He placed a few more gentle honeyed kisses on your lips before anyone could say anything else.

But much to your dissatisfaction, you heard Mrs. Amajiki call for dinner. You were prepared to aggressively reject this interruption but Tamaki’s smile broke your resolve.

He tucked some hair behind your ear as he spoke again after what felt like hour had passed since the last time. “Can we do this again like...soon?”

He was aggressively adorable you could barely stand it. You merely nodded in response you couldn’t possibly form any coherent words right now.

You laid there, trying to unmelt yourself with little success. You could only gaze at your little Suneater with twinkling admiration in your eyes as he lifted you to stand up in his arms.

His new love bite was still exposed on your neck. He pulled your sweater up to cover it and kissed it through fabric as he muttered a few more quiet apologies. You immediately started thinking of ways you could try to permanently keep it on your skin.

You eventually walk down to dinner together holding hands, fingers interlocked. Yea...he was definitely your new addiction.

~~

Thanks for reading 🥰

[wulfies-kpop-fanfics]

One Photo → Mark Lee [9] [END]

↳  Pairing: Mark Lee/Reader

↳  AU: Soulmate!AU - The first touch of two soulmates permanently scars their bodies.

↳  Warning: angst if you squint

↳  Word count: 2,857

↳  Chapters: Prelude | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | You Are Here!

⁙ Summary: For an end of the year photography project, you’re tasked with taking a photograph for your favourite group, NCT127, and coincidentally, discover your soulmate.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ TUESDAY - 9

Day by day, things got steadily worse. Your body was constantly giving out, you had trouble breathing, and whenever you ate something, you always managed to throw it back up. The weight loss and iron deficiency you had developed after the last periods you’ve had led to four clinic visits and one hospital scare. You tried to play it off to your boss, but enough was enough and you knew you were going to be let go.

It took a lot of thinking, but you had finally decided to do what you had to. So, there you stood, taping the last box closed. You had sold your final possession besides your bed and your oldest camera, handing the sealed box to the buyer who had been standing in your kitchen. “Thank you,” he said, smiling gently at you. “This is gonna make my daughter really happy. I…” he cleared his throat awkwardly; “I hope that you get better soon.” 

You nodded, holding your breath for a moment to avoid coughing in his direction. “Of course. I hope she uses that camera well, it helped me a lot when I started college.” 

After he left, you looked over the bare-boned atmosphere of your apartment. Your coffee table was gone, your bookshelf, your easel. Your little television, table and chair, and nearly all of your glassware and cutlery had been sold as well. Walking into your room, the only things that were left were your tote of movies with all of Mark’s cards and letters tucked inside, and a backpack with a second outfit, toiletries and your camera stuffed in it. Even your bed was stripped just to the bottom sheet, the summer hot enough and your fever high enough that you didn’t need blankets anyway. Today was finally the day you had finally procured enough money for a plane ticket, a one-way trip that hopefully would relieve the pain in your heart and the crushing pressure in your head. 

While you lay in your bed, waiting for the night to pass, your phone, one of the last things you had to keep with you, buzzed. Rhiannon: How are you doing

You: I can never tell anymore

Rhiannon: Johnny, Hyuckie and I are going to meet you at the airport tomorrow. Mark’s getting pretty bad

Worry filled your chest, and you frowned at your screen.

You: Is he going to be okay? Rhiannon: we don’t know. He’s completely bedridden, I just hope that you don’t end up that way before your flight. I’m worried that they might not even let you on. 

You: I have to try

Rhiannon: I know…  

Rhiannon: I’ll see you soon, okay? I miss you

You: I miss you too. 

At this point, getting onto your flight was the least of your worries. After putting down your phone, you mad managed to get about ten minutes of rest before you had to run to your bathroom to throw up the measly dinner you had put together with the small food budget you had set for yourself. Once you were sure your stomach had settled, you went back into your backpack and pulled out your toothbrush, returning to the bathroom to clean out your mouth.

Looking into the mirror above your sink, you noticed how bad you had really gotten. Your cheeks were hollow, your skin pale and underneath your sunken eyes were the works dark circles you’ve ever had. You brushed as slowly as you could, hoping that you wouldn’t start to feel nauseous again. After spitting and rinsing out the sink, you decided that maybe it would be better to just get up and go to the airport now. 

You left your house key for the landlord on your kitchen counter with a note about where the spare was, stepping outside and locking the house with the spare, hiding it under your doormat before heading toward the elevator and beginning your journey. 

Occasionally you’d lose your footing, your balance off and your legs weak. You would grab onto the wall to steady yourself, hoping that you wouldn’t pass out. About an hour of subway and streetcar riding, you finally made it to the airport. It was chilling to see so many eyes on you. You knew that coming in this condition would get you multiple looks and passing disgusted faces, but you felt like you were passed feeling embarrassed. The teller looked at you sympathetically when you asked for the Delta non-stop flight to Incheon.

“Soulmate?” She asked, tilting her head curiously when you slid her your ID and your debit card, all of the money you had from selling your things on it. Just enough to pay for your ticket. 

“Yeah. Almost two years since I’ve seen him.” “My God,” she gasped, typing away on her keyboard. “It’s good you’re going now, I could never survive being away from my soulmate for that long. I was away from mine for a month when he was on a business trip and I was hospitalized!” 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you rasp, watching her smile sadly in your direction. “I hope things go well for you. Have a safe flight to South Korea.” She slid your ticket, debit card, ID and itinerary over her desk, watching you slowly reach out to grab it. “Get lots of rest when you land.” “Thank you, I’ll try.” Feeling a little more pleasant after being wished well, you continued on your way. Through customs, the security check and the passport check, you did your best to keep back any coughing and the creeping feeling of nausea that was beginning to overwhelm you. Finally, you arrived in the boarding area, taking a seat with your bag on the floor, in between your knees. It was still a while before your plane would even arrive, so you plugged in your phone and decided to watch a movie. 

Night crept over the lounge, the windows displaying a slowly setting sun. After your movie ended you kept yourself occupied by watching the planes come and go until the tarmac was lit up with guiding lights that looked like stars. 

‘Flight from Toronto to Incheon nonstop now boarding.’

Finally.

You stumbled along and waited in your line, looking at your seat number. It was near the back of the plane, which would be loud, but at least it was close to the bathroom. The boarding attendant gave you a look with squinted eyes, but he still scanned your ticket, looked at your passport and let you go through.

Down the hallway, your legs gave out and your body clattered to the floor. “Hey, are you alright!?” Someone behind you came running up, gently taking your arm and helping you off the floor. “Jeez, you just toppled over!” She observed you, holding you steady. “You’re nothing but skin and bones…” “Sorry,” you apologize, hoping that you’d stay upright when she let your arm go. “I haven’t been doing the best lately.” “That’s okay,” she assured you. “Don’t you worry one bit.” Cautiously, she began walking with you, holding out her hands as if she was expecting you to fall again. “Why are you here and not at home, resting?” 

“I, well... this is soulmate sickness,” you explain cautiously. “My soulmate is doing worse than I am, and I decided to sell everything I own to buy a one-way ticket. I’m going to see him.” 

“Man,” she breathed, “I can’t imagine what that’s like.”

You let out a small, hollow laugh. “I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy.” “What seat are you?” “39-A.” 

“Oh,” she smiled at you, just as the plane entrance was coming into view. “I’m 39-B! I’ll help you put your backpack up, okay?”

“Thank you,” 

She smiled at you. “My pleasure.”

The hostess greeted you both when your new friend helped you board, watching with stunned eyes as you passed her. You both made your way to the back of the plane. You slipped off your backpack and she put both hers and your carry on into the compartment above you. “Do you want the window seat, or will that make you nauseous?” She asked, tilting her head to the side with an empathetic smile. “Would you be okay with switching? I’m supposed to have the window, but..” 

“Yeah, I’m totally fine with it! Here, sit down with me.” Once you both were seated, she held your hand. “So, what’s your name?” 

“It’s (Y/N),” you answer slowly, giving her a smile when you feel her hand take yours. It had been so long since someone had given you any physical affection. “I’m Nia,” she grinned. “It’s nice to meet you!” 

“Nice to meet you, too.”

After the plane took off, Nia did everything she could for you. She made sure you had a blanket, water, and she even had wipes in her purse that she kept on your forehead to make sure your fever stayed down. Nia talked with you about her boyfriend, showing you part of her scar that was on the back of her neck. She told the story about the last time she was in Korea, lost and out of her depth. Wonseo, her soulmate, had bumped into her, not paying enough attention to avoid her when she stopped to try and read a street sign. She, in turn, had a scar on her back and on her scalp, while his, funnily enough, was on the top part of his chest and his nose.

When you told her about meeting Mark and your own scar, her happy grin only seemed to grow wider. “I’m a fan,” she admitted, “and I’m guessing you haven’t been keeping up with media because before he stopped his activities, he started wearing that Star Wars sweater everywhere. Everyone knew it was from you since the first time he ever had it with him was in Pearson two years ago. I knew I recognized you, but dang, girl. You look terrible compared to then.” 

You smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, I tend to stay away from it all now, it just stresses me out.” She nodded understandingly. “Have you thought about the Gold Ceremony? Wonseo and I are actually in the process of planning ours, and I’m on my way home from meeting a bridesmaid that still lives in Canada.” 

“I haven’t really thought about that yet,” you answer honestly. “It’s all so nerve-wracking, don’t you think?” 

Nia shrugged. “I suppose your situation is a little different from everyone else’s, so I understand the aversion. I love the romance of it all, you know? Gold coating your scars so that everyone can see it as a sign of your commitment? Ah, it’s so exciting!”

“Maybe one day I’ll have the courage to ask him,” you say quietly, smiling at Nia. 

“Only if you’re comfortable, girl. Having your entire chest exposed to everyone around you may be a little weird even if you are getting married, y’know?” 

You chuckle. “Yeah, that’s true.” 

You kept little conversations going, occasionally stopping to take small naps. The two of you also exchanged numbers, and you felt happy that you had made a new friend. Eventually, daylight began to peek through the windows of the plane, signalling the time change and that you would soon arrive in Korea. 

Truthfully, no matter what Nia did for you, you only felt worse. You smiled and held back your nausea, but you could feel that as every moment passed, you declined further and further into your sickness. When the flight landed, you were happy that the sense of vertigo was gone, but you weren’t sure how long you would last without passing out. “Want me to help you through customs?” Nia asked once the seatbelt sign was turned off. She helped you stand, taking down your backpack for you and securing it on your shoulders. “I don’t want to be a burden on you,” you said quickly, grasping the seats as you made your way up to exit the plane.

“You’re far from that,” Nia reassured. “I won’t be able to stay with you the whole time, I just want to make sure that you make it to the people waiting for you okay. You said three of your friends were coming to meet you?” “Yeah,” you nod, thanking the hostess quietly as you pass her. “Thank you, Nia.” “Anything for a friend.” Slowly but surely, Nia helped you through the check-in and declaration stations, leading you through each step. Once you both got your passports checked, she turned and smiled at you. “I have to go get my suitcase now. Be safe and keep in touch, okay?” Nia hugged you ever so gently, before waving and taking her lead in the opposite direction you were to go, making her way to grab her suitcase off the conveyer. 

“See you,” you called behind her, steeling your nerve. You could make it. While you could barely read the directions with your now blurring vision, you managed to make it to the meeting area. Just barely in your line of sight were Rhiannon, Donghyuck and Johnny, holding up a rainbow sign with your name on it. You felt your chest flare-up, and if it was due to your sickness or your happiness you couldn’t tell, but you still began making your way toward them, smiling and waving.

That was until your body finally gave in. ~ “(Y/N)!” Rhiannon immediately dropped the sign and made a beeline for you as you toppled to the ground, Johnny and Donghyuck not far behind. She grit her teeth, doing her best to turn you over and hold you.

Donghyuck reached into his pocket to pull out his phone, ready to call an emergency number if Rhiannon couldn’t determine that you were breathing. He sighed with relief, luckily the airport was mostly empty and nobody would crowd you. “Is she okay?” Johnny knelt down beside her, looking on with worry. Rhiannon quickly checked your pulse and held her hand above your mouth. “Seems like she just passed out, she’s still breathing.” She breathed a sigh of relief, placing a hand over her chest. 

Johnny breathed a sigh of relief. “We should get her home, then. I’ll carry her, you grab her backpack.” 

Rhiannon nodded and slowly took your backpack off while Johnny picked you up. “Let’s go.” 

~

Everyone was waiting in the living room for Johnny and Rhiannon to return with you, after hearing them explain what happened when Taeyong called to check-in. They knew they couldn’t tell Mark about what happened since his condition was not much better. He was in his room, nearly unaware of everyone sitting and waiting with bated breath. Yuta and Jungwoo stood up quickly when the door handle turned and opened, revealing Rhiannon and Donghuck. Johnny followed in close behind, you in his arms, barely conscious.

“Hi, everyone,” you rasped, smiling as best you could, with lidded eyes. 

“(Y/N),” Doyoung stood. “We’ve all missed you.” 

“Yeah,” Jungwoo agreed. “We’re glad you’re home.” 

“Thank you,” your words were soft, laboured. “Where’s Mark?” You looked up at Johnny tiredly. Johnny smiled gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll take you to him. Let’s go.” 

You did your best to stay awake, suddenly beginning to feel a little better. Soon you both came across a door, the door slightly ajar. Johnny pushed it open gently with his foot.

“Guess who’s here?” He called into the room, and as soon as you lay eyes on Mark, you felt both simultaneously happy and guilty. Mark was skin and bones like you were, hollow cheeks and dark circles under his eyes. He was shivering as he struggled to sit up, large and thick blankets slowly shifting as he moved. “(Y/N),” he said, his lips forming the most endearing smile. “(Y/N), you’re here,” 

“Yeah, I’m here.” Johnny carried you to Mark’s bed, gently placing you down next to him in the spot where he had just barely pulled back the blankets. You had your head laying on Mark’s chest as soon as Johnny put you down, Mark’s arm immediately wrapping around you. You both breathed in a deep sigh of relief, and you felt your nose beginning to clear up. “You could probably use some water. I’ll be back.” Johnny quietly left the room, and as soon as the door shut, you couldn’t think of anything to say. 

You felt life coming back to you, but the long flight and the months of hardship still weighed heavy on you. You knew that this was your condition because you were struggling, and you had just sacrificed everything to be here. Now, on top of being sick, you were dirt poor. But, at least you were with your soulmate, and at least you were with all of your friends. At least you finally felt like you weren’t dying. “You can sleep,” you hear Mark whisper as he moved his other arm to touch your face. “I can tell you’re tired.” 

You smiled weakly. “Okay, as long as you sleep too.” Mark laughed softly. “Agreed.”

Not long after, the door creaked open once again. Johnny had come back with a glass of water, followed by Rhiannon. Johnny placed the glass of water on the nightstand next to your bed, while Rhiannon watched you and Mark sleep for a moment, holding the small framed photo in her hands, the one that started it all. She placed it next to the glass of water, adjusting it so you would see it when you woke up.

“Sleep well.”

[rpf-bat]

Celebrate The End Of Things With Cheap Champagne

Pairing: Frank Iero x Reader

Genre: Angst 

Summary: @sirloin-steaks requested a Frank story based on the song “New Year’s Day” by Taylor Swift. 

It’s December 31st, 2006, and My Chemical Romance are ringing in the New Year, performing live in Times Square. Frank invites you to come out, and see the show. But, an after-party at the band’s hotel, takes a turn, that nobody saw coming.

Trigger warning for substance abuse. 

You stood on the deck of the ferry boat, watching the bright lights of New York City draw closer and closer. You used to take this ferry every day, from your hometown in New Jersey, to your job in Manhattan. But, that seemed like so long ago now. 

Once upon a time, your friend and former coworker, Gerard, would catch the morning ferry with you. But, after the September 11th attacks, he’d quit his job at your company, and started a band. His decision had puzzled you at first. But, the first time you saw My Chemical Romance perform live, you had understood. 

That was also the night that you met Frank. His guitar playing was electric, and you told him as much, after the band finished their set. It had been at some shitty dive bar - the only venues that would take them at the time. But, he’d told you that night, that he, and Gee, and the guys, were going to make it to the big time. You’d admired his ambition, and the two of you became fast friends. And he’d been right. 

Now, four years later, My Chemical Romance was one of the biggest bands in the country. Their album, The Black Parade, had just dropped two months ago, debuting at #2 on the Billboard charts. They had gotten popular enough, to receive a prestigious offer. Ryan Seacrest had asked them to play New Year’s Rockin’ Eve, tonight, in Times Square! 

Millions of Americans tuned in every New Year’s Eve, to see the concert broadcast, and watch the ball drop at midnight. It was crazy to you, that your dorky friends from back home in New Jersey, had gotten “big” enough to perform alongside glitzy pop stars, like Christina Aguilera.

You were so psyched for them. It would also be the first time you had seen them in a while. Frank was the only one of the guys who still technically lived in New Jersey. When he was home, and off the road, he would come over to your house all the time, to watch movies, or play video games, just like in the old days. But, the last time that had happened, had been months ago. He, and the rest of the band, had been traveling around nonstop, doing radio and TV interviews, to promote the new album. In February, they were supposed to embark on a world tour. 

“But after tonight’s show, we’ll have a little bit of time off, before the tour starts,” Frank had told you excitedly on the phone, yesterday afternoon, when he’d invited you to the gig. “I really hope we get to spend more time together, Y/N. I missed you.” 

You had missed him, too - more than words could describe. Your heart ached whenever you drove past his house, knowing that he wasn’t in it. You had things you wanted to say to him tonight - things you’d been waiting to tell him for a long time. 

Your heart hammered as you stepped off the ferry, and began walking towards Time Square. The streets were packed with people, all rushing towards the same place you were. You knew some New Yorkers had started camping out at three o’clock in the afternoon, to get the best seats. If Frank hadn’t sent you a VIP pass in the mail, you’d surely have ended up in the way back of the crowd, nowhere close to the stage. 

You showed your pass to the security personnel, who were looking through peoples’ bags at a checkpoint, near the entrance to the Square. They waved you through to a special designated area, in the front row, for friends and family of the performers. You were pretty sure the kid on your left was the fourth Jonas Brother. You felt remarkably out of place. 

But, then your phone beeped, alerting you that you had a text. A smile crossed your face, when you realized it was from Frank. 

We r about 2 head onstage, he said. I will see you after our set, I promise! There’s nobody I’d rather ring in 2007 with :)

You heard the crowd start screaming, and your head whipped around, as you watched the announcer stroll onto the stage. 

“Please welcome our next musical guest - My! Chemical! Romaaaaance!” 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Their performance was amazing. They were one of a dozen artists performing tonight, so they only got to do three songs, before they had to get offstage and make room for the next act (Gwen Stefani, apparently). But, they put their whole hearts into those three tracks. Frank was jumping around like a maniac with his guitar, despite the freezing cold. Ray even had a pair of “2007” sunglasses on. 

You screamed for them, like every other girl in the crowd. At this point, you thought with a frown, there’s probably ten thousand people, with a crush on the same man, that I’ve been pining for since 2002. 

...Then again, you considered, the ten thousand other girls, don’t have backstage passes. 

Your frown disappeared, when you walked backstage, and a pair of arms immediately circled you. 

“Y/N!” Frank grinned. “Thank you so much for coming out and seeing us tonight!”

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” you grinned, hugging your friend back. “You were amazing.” 

“Thank you,” Frank said sincerely, releasing you from his grip. “Are you ready to get out of this cold?”

“Where are we going?” you asked. 

“Back to the hotel,” he explained. “Ray’s not feeling so good.” 

“Oh, no,” you frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“Hi, Y/N!” Ray greeted, waving at you with one hand, while he pulled a tissue from his pocket, with the other. He blew his nose loudly. “....Sorry,” he muttered. “How are you?”

“It’s okay!” you assured him. “I’m fine...I’m sorry you’re not doing so well, though. You sound awful.” 

“It’s this East Coast weather,” he shrugged, throwing the tissue in a nearby wastebasket. “I hate doing outdoor shows, in the wintertime.” 

“You sounded great onstage,” you reassured him. “Nobody could even tell you were sick.” 

“The dorky sunglasses conceal how puffy his eyes are,” Frank confessed. “Poor guy didn’t sleep at all last night.” 

“Well, hopefully, I’ll sleep better tonight,” Ray chucked. “We’ve got two rooms at the Knickerbocker Hotel - one for me and Mikey, and one for Frank and Gerard.”

“Speaking of which,” you asked, “where is Gerard?” 

“Here I am!” chuckled a voice behind you, and you turned and saw your old friend Gerard, beaming at you. “Sorry, I was busy calling our cab. It’s so good to see you, Y/N! Thank you for coming.” 

“Thank you for inviting me!” you smiled back. “I’m really proud of you guys, getting to be part of such a major event.” 

“Oh, it’s surreal,” Gerard confessed. “I used to come up here with my mom and dad, and Mikey, every New Year’s Eve, to watch the show live.  I never thought I’d be in the show.” 

“We’re really lucky,” Mikey smiled, appearing beside Gerard, with a glass of champagne in his hand. 

“Ooh, where’d you get that?” Frank asked. 

“They’re giving them out to all the VIPs,” Mikey explained. “Would you like one, Y/N?” 

“I don’t think I qualify as a Very Important Person,” you confessed. 

“Nonsense,” Frank shook his head. “You’re very important to me.” 

“Yeah,” Mikey nodded. “You’ve been good friends with all of us for a long time. You can have whatever you want.” 

“No time for that,” Gerard shook his head. “Our cab’s here.” 

“C’mon,” Frank said, lacing his fingers with yours. “We have to go out through a secret exit, so that the fans don’t mob us.” 

“Oh, shit, really?” you chuckled. “I feel like a secret agent.” 

“Our lives have gotten so weird, honestly,” Gerard confessed. “I’m kinda glad that we’re gonna put some distance, between us and these crowds.” 

“Yeah, it’ll just be five of us, once we get to the hotel,” Mikey nodded. “Well...four. Ray is gonna go to sleep in our room, as soon we get there. But, the rest of us can party in Frankie and Gee’s room til midnight.” 

“Or later,” Frank grinned mischievously.

You smiled at your four oldest friends. “I can’t wait.” 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

“Ok, question,” you asked uncertainly, staring at the yellow cab in front of you. “How are we gonna fit five people in there?”

“It’s gonna be a tight squeeze,” Frank chuckled. 

“Well, hey, we’ve managed to fit in smaller places before, right?” Gerard pointed out. 

“True,” Ray laughed. “Remember when we were traveling around New Jersey, in our shitty little van?”

“We were all practically right on top of each other,” Mikey recalled. 

When the band had first started, you had gone with them, on weekend trips, to play a gig, in the next town over. You’d squished between the boys, somehow, and helped them carry their equipment into the venue. Watching them rock the faces off the local kids, had been so much fun. 

But, as time went on, they started getting offers to play at clubs across state lines. Day trips turned into months-long tours. You couldn’t commit to that - unlike Gerard, you still had a day job. And so, you started seeing the guys less and less. Then they’d gotten a record deal - and everything had gotten even more complicated. 

“That was….a long time ago,” you frowned. 

“Yeah,” Frank said wistfully. “I wish we had the chance to do that again.” 

“Well, now, most of the time, we don’t have to squish,” Ray pointed out. “We have a nice, roomy tour bus, with bunks and everything.” 

“You’ve come a long way,” you smiled weakly. 

You were quiet as you piled into the car. As the taxi started driving down the street, you stared out at the night sky, and the city lights flying by. Suddenly, Frank gently touched your hand, making you turn, and face him. 

“Hey,” he said quietly, giving your hand a squeeze, “are you alright, Y/N?” 

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.” 

“Tonight’s supposed to be a party, remember?” he teased. “So, try and smile for me, okay?” 

“I’ll try,” you promised. It was far easier to smile, with him around. 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

You could tell as soon as you walked into the lobby, that this was a five star hotel. A crystal chandelier, cast a soft glow over the pristine decor. 

“We already got our room keys earlier,” Gerard explained. “So, we can go ahead up.” 

You nodded, and followed him and the guys to the elevator. 

“I think I’m gonna crash as soon as we get upstairs,” Ray confessed, sniffling into his tissue again. 

“I don’t blame you,” you said sympathetically. The elevator dinged, as you arrived at your floor. 

“Since I won’t see you guys until tomorrow,” Ray sighed, “Happy New Year, alright?”

“Happy New Year, Ray,” you waved, as you watched him unlock his hotel room door, and head inside. “Feel better soon!”

“Thanks, Y/N,” Ray wheezed, closing the door behind him. 

“Alright, let’s head into our room,” Frank grinned, opening the door to the adjoining room. “What do you want to do first?” 

“Let’s turn the TV on,” Mikey suggested, immediately looking for the remote. “I wanna see the other performances. They’re still broadcasting live right now.” 

“Oh, true,” you nodded. “We can still watch the ball drop tonight, on this flat screen!” 

“I wanna look at the room service menu,” Gerard grinned. “Y/N, you can have anything you want. Just let me know.” 

“Thanks, Gee,” you grinned. “Should we get champagne to toast with, at midnight?” 

“I’ll get it for you three,” Gerard shrugged. “For me? I guess I’ll order a club soda. If they put it in a fancy glass, I can still clink it with yours when the clock strikes twelve.” 

“Yeah, that works,” Frank agreed. “Looks almost the same.”

You frowned. That’s right, you remembered. Gerard is about two and a half years sober now. 

You remembered going to see them, at their Englishtown show, during Warped Tour ‘04. Gerard had been a mess. You hadn’t seen him in two or three months, and you were shocked how much he’d deteriorated. You’d felt helpless. If you’d had more time, maybe you could have talked some sense into him. But, the very next day, he had to get back on his bus, and head to another gig, in Pennsylvania. 

Frank had called you on the phone, maybe a week later, and told you Gerard had decided to get clean, on his own. You didn’t know how, or why. You didn’t know fifty percent, of what went on in your friends’ heads anymore. 

“.....Y/N?” Frank called, his voice stunning you out of your thoughts. 

“Sorry,” you blinked. “Did you say something?” 

“Yeah, I said I’m going out to the balcony, to have a smoke,” Frank replied. “I asked you if you wanted to come with me?”

“Oh….yeah, sure,” you nodded, and followed him out. “Got a light?” 

“Here,” Frank said, pulling a lighter out of his pocket, and handing it to you. 

You took a pack of Marlboros out of your purse, and lit one. “Thanks,” you said, handing it back. 

Frank lit his own cigarette, and took a drag. You glanced over at him as you inhaled the nicotine, watching how the cool night breeze tousled his hair. 

“I thought you said on the phone, that  you were trying to quit,” Frank raised an eyebrow. 

“I should,” you sighed, exhaling smoke. “I know it’s bad for me.”

“Sorry for being a bad influence,” Frank laughed. “I know I got no room to talk.”

“It’s not your fault,” you shrugged, taking another puff. “I guess I’m just stressed tonight.” 

“About what?” Frank asked, looking at you curiously. 

“It’s stupid,” you mumbled. 

“Tell me,” Frank insisted, taking his free hand in yours again. Your heart raced at his casual touch. 

“I just…,” you sighed, unsure how to begin. “I never see you guys anymore.” 

“I’m sorry,” Frank frowned. 

“No, don’t be,” you shook your head. “I’m being selfish. I should be happy for you, right? It’s a good thing, that the band has gotten so successful, that you have fans in practically every city in the world, that want to see you.” 

“Yeah, they get to see me,” Frank groaned. “But, I don’t get to see my friends, or family - any of the people I love most - for months at a time.” 

The people he loves most. Your face reddened. Did you really fit into that category? 

“After tonight,” you asked, “how long will you be in town?” 

“The first night of the tour is February 22nd,” Frank explained. “The gig’s in New Hampshire, so we’ll be flying out the night before.” 

“So we have….slightly less than two months, to spend time together,” you calculated. “And after that, the next time you’ll be in my neck of the woods is…?” 

“Bamboozle Festival,” Frank replied. “That’s in May.” 

“Wow,” you frowned. “Are you playing all three days of the festival, or…?”

“Nah, just one,” Frank said sheepishly. “We’ll be in Jersey for a night….the very next day, we’ll be playing a gig in fuckin’ Maine.”

“The fun never stops, I guess,” you deadpanned. 

“I mean, it is fun,” Frank admitted. “I love being a musician. Playing my guitar, onstage, is all I’ve wanted to do, my entire life.” 

“Yeah, it’s your dream,” you said quickly, “that’s why I should just shut up, and let you…”

“You don’t have to shut up,” Frank interrupted. “Y/N, I want you to tell me how you feel.” 

“How do I feel, Frank?” you repeated, your emotions starting to get the best of you. “I feel like I don’t even know my friends at all anymore! I don’t want you to turn into a stranger, whose laugh I could recognize anywhere. I’m still working the same dead end job I had the day I met you….but your life has completely changed. You’re gone 80% of the year, and yeah, I know you text or call me whenever you can, but when I’m not there face to face, I still miss so much of your life! You used to be just….a guy next door, that I could listen to records and smoke with. Now you’re some….millionaire rock star. That coat you’ve got on right now is probably worth more than my first car, and you’ve probably got girls in every town, throwing their panties at you…” 

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t look twice at any of those girls,” Frank said, looking you in the eye, “if a certain someone, told me, that she wanted me to be hers, and hers alone.”

A certain someone….? you gasped. Did he mean…?

“Hey!” a voice interrupted, and you jumped, as the sliding glass door slid open, and Gerard stepped onto the balcony. “There you guys are!” 

“H-hey,” you stammered, taken aback. 

“Everything alright?” Gerard asked, raising a quizzical eyebrow. 

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s cool,” Frank mumbled, not looking at you at all, as he stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray. “What did you need?”

“We’ve got about five minutes til midnight,” Gerard smiled. “Figured you guys would want to come back inside, so we can count down the last seconds of 2006 together.” 

“Oh, right, of course,” you blinked. “Did room service already bring up the champagne flutes?”

“Yeah, they’re ready to go,” Gerard nodded. “....Wait. Where’s Mikey?” 

“We thought he was with you,” Frank said, looking confused. 

“No,” Gerard shook his head. “I went to the bathroom, and when I came back out, he was gone. If he’s not on the balcony with you guys, where did he go?” 

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Maybe he went to his and Ray’s room?” 

“Oh, yeah, that would make sense,” Gerard nodded. “Let’s go get him.” 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Gerard knocked loudly on the hotel room door. 

“Come on, Mikey!” he called. “We got three minutes til midnight, you’re gonna miss the ball drop, dude!” 

The door swung open, but instead of Mikey, a sleepy-looking Ray answered. 

“Mikey’s not in here,” Ray said with a yawn. “It’s just me.”

“Oh, sorry for waking you up, man,” Gerard apologized. 

“Wait,” Frank realized. “If he’s not in either hotel room, then, where is he?” 

“Maybe he went to go get ice?” Ray suggested. 

“Or maybe he went downstairs, to ask the front desk guy something,” you guessed. 

“Let’s split up,” Frank suggested. “You guys go down the hall and see if he’s by the ice machine. Y/N and I will look for him downstairs.” 

“Yeah, we can do that,” Gerard agreed. “Hopefully we’ll find him before the end of the year!” 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

“This elevator’s taking too long to get up here,” Frank said impatiently, hitting the down-arrow button a second time. 

“Wanna just take the stairs?” you suggested. 

“Works for me,” Frank shrugged. 

You followed him into the stairwell, your heart still pounding from the conversation on the balcony. What would have happened, you wondered, if Gerard hadn’t walked in when he did? 

Frank kept his eyes on the flight of stairs in front of you, not saying a word, as you walked past the sign, indicating that you were now on the second floor. 

“Maybe he didn’t go this wa...oh, fuck,” Frank gasped, coming to a sudden stop.  

Your blood froze, when you saw what he was looking at. Mikey’s unconscious body, lay sprawled across the bottom steps. He was face down….he didn’t even look like he was breathing. 

“Mikey, oh my god!” You ran to his side, flipping him over, so that you could see his face. “Frank, we have to help him!” 

The bassist looked deathly pale, and his lips had turned a horrifying shade of blue. You felt for a pulse. It was there, but it was disturbingly weak.

“Come on, Mikey, wake up!” you pleaded, shaking his shoulders. “Oh my god, what’s wrong with him?!” 

“I think he’s overdosing,” Frank realized, kneeling by your side. 

“On what?!” you gasped. 

“On whatever he went downstairs, to pick up from his dealer,” Frank growled. “Goddamnit! We need to call 911.” 

“Mikey!” a familiar voice called, and Gerard and Ray burst into the stairwell. 

“Oh, god!” Gerard gasped, when he saw his brother, lying eerily still in your arms. 

“I’m trying to wake him up!” you explained. “It’s not working...fuck, what do I do?” 

“He needs a doctor,” Ray realized, whipping out his cell phone. “....Hello? Yes, we’re having an emergency…...the Knickerbocker Hotel….umm, Six Times Square….please hurry….my friend isn’t breathing…” 

You shook Mikey’s shoulders again. His eyes fluttered open, but his pupils were like pinpricks. He gasped and choked, like he couldn’t get air into his lungs. 

“Come on, Mikey, hang in there!” you begged. Oh god, what if he died?!

You could see the headlines now. World Tour Canceled After Bassist’s Hospitalization. You’d wanted more time with Frank….but not like this, damnit! 

Since when did your oldest friend’s kid brother do smack?! 

I really don’t know anything about them anymore, you realized, tears clouding your vision as you listened to him wheeze. Minutes felt like hours. 

“Out of the way!” called an unfamiliar voice, and you gaped as two paramedics dragged a stretcher down the stairs. 

“Ma’am, we need to move him,” a uniformed woman barked. “Time is of the essence.” 

You let the EMT scoop Mikey up, and load him onto the gurney. 

“What did he take?” the second paramedic asked. 

“I….I don’t know,” you stammered. “We just found him like this.” 

“Ma’am,” the man pressed, “we’re not here to judge anybody. But, any information you have, can help us figure out what antidote he needs…”

“Here,” Frank said. “I found this next to his body.” 

He handed the paramedic a needle. Oh, god. 

“I see,” the paramedic nodded grimly. “Judith! Get this man two milligrams of naloxone, stat!” 

“Is….is he gonna be okay?!” Gerard gasped, tears in his eyes. “That’s my baby brother….”

“We’re going to try our best to save him, sir,” the female paramedic (Judith) promised. “We need to move him to the hospital, as soon as possible.” 

“We’re only going to be able to fit two extra people in the ambulance,” the male paramedic warned. “Who’s going?” 

“Me,” Gerard said immediately. “He’s my family!” 

“Who else?” the paramedic demanded. “We don’t have time to waste.” 

Mikey gasped for air on the gurney, his face growing bluer by the minute. 

“I’ll go,” Ray decided. “Frank, you stay here with Y/N, okay?” 

“O-okay,” Frank stammered. You clung to him,shaking, as you watched the paramedics drag your friend out of the hallway, to the ambulance waiting outside. 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

“.....Happy New Year!” the oblivious voice of Ryan Seacrest rang out from the television screen, as you walked back into the hotel room, wiping your eyes on your sleeve. 

Confetti was falling in Times Square, as the credits rolled. You’d missed the countdown. There had been no toast, no midnight kiss (although perhaps, the latter had been foolish to even hope for.) 

“This wasn’t how 2007 was supposed to start,” Frank sobbed, sinking down onto the bed. “Fuck!” 

“H-he’s gonna be okay,” you stammered. “The doctors are gonna save his life…”

“You don’t know that!” Frank cried, kicking a bottle of Dom Perignon off the coffee table. It shattered, sending broken glass and alcohol all over the floor. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Y/N,” Frank apologized, kneeling to pick up the shards. “I shouldn’t have done that…”

“Ssh, stop, you’re gonna cut yourself,” you warned, grabbing his hands. “We can clean that up later, okay? I understand that you’re only lashing out, because you’re scared…” 

“Of course I’m scared,” Frank wept, burying his head in your shoulder. “That’s one of my best friends.” 

“He’s my friend, too,” you said softly, stroking Frank’s hair. “I’m scared, too, but there’s nothing we can do now, but pray.” 

You sat down on the bed, and Frank sat with you, still sobbing into your shirt. You were choking back tears yourself. 

“I….I didn’t know he was doing that stuff,” you said guiltily. “I’m never around you guys anymore….I….”

“I didn’t realize the extent of the problem, either,” Frank confessed. “And I’m with the kid almost every day. I should’ve noticed, but I was too self absorbed, doing my own dumb shit…” 

“Ssh, it’s not your fault, Frankie,” you soothed. “We got him, to the people that can help him. That’s all we can do.” 

“It doesn’t feel like enough,” Frank sniffed, still clinging to you tightly. 

“No,” you agreed, your heart aching, “it doesn’t.” 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

You woke the next morning, to the feeling of warmth against your side. Your eyes fluttered open, and you realized that Frank was sleeping next to you. What?!

Your cheeks reddened as you stared at his sleeping face, so close to your own. “...Frank? Why are you…?”

Reality filtered back into your head, slowly, as you recalled the events of the previous night. Oh god….Mikey! 

Was he okay? You still didn’t know. You and Frank had sat beside each other on the hotel room bed, crying, clinging to each other for comfort. You supposed you had fallen asleep like that. 

“.....Huh?” Frank groaned sleepily. “Y/N…?” 

He shot up, jerking away from you, almost as soon as he realized, that your bodies were touching. “I...I’m sorry!”

“N-no, it’s fine…” you stammered. 

“Fuck….I need to check my messages,” Frank realized, groping for his cell phone on the bedside table. He sat up,and put his feet on the floor. “Owww!”

“What’s wrong?” you gasped. 

“I just stepped on a shard of the bottle I broke last night...fuck!” Frank swore. 

“Oh no,” you winced. “Is it bleeding?” 

“No, it’s just cut a little,” Frank shook his head. 

“Do you want me to call the front desk,” you offered, “and see if they can bring up some Band-Aids?”

“No, it’s not that serious,” Frank insisted, opening his flip phone. His eyes widened, as he clicked through his inbox. “Oh….oh, thank god…” 

“What?” you demanded. 

“Ray texted me, around like two in the morning,” Frank explained. “He said Mikey’s gonna make it. The doctors were able to reverse the overdose in time, and he’s gonna make a full recovery.”

“Oh, thank goodness!” you cried, tearing up from sheer relief. You had been so scared, that Ray’s text, would say that Mikey hadn’t survived. He’s gonna be okay. He’s alive. 

Frank, however, didn’t share your grateful smile. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked. 

“I’m sorry that you had to see that, last night,” Frank frowned. “We ruined your New Year’s Eve.” 

“It’s not your fault,” you shook your head. “I’m glad I was there, to help you find him. I wouldn’t have wanted you to go through this alone.” 

“I hate to ask you for even more help,” Frank grimaced, “but, we need to clean this shit up.”

“You’re right,” you nodded, leaning down to help him pick up the glass shards. “It wouldn’t be fair, to leave it for the hotel staff to pick up.” 

“Some bands dig trashing hotel rooms,” Frank sighed, grabbing a towel from the bathroom, to mop up the puddle of champagne. “Not me, though. I feel bad, making a mess, that some housekeeper is gonna have to deal with.” 

He’s a kind person, you thought to yourself, as you carefully placed the pieces of bottle into a waste basket. Not everyone would take the time to do this, after the night we had. 

“Shit, look at this,” Frank sighed, pointing down at the hardwood floor. “Nobody blew out the stupid scented candle, that Housekeeping lit before we checked in, to make the place smell pretty. Now, there’s dried wax all over the floorboards.” 

“You had bigger things to worry about last night,” you reminded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even notice the candle was still burning, with everything else going on. I would’ve reminded you to put it out.” 

“That’s not your job,” Frank said, pulling a guitar pick from his pocket. He tried to use it to scrape some of the wax up, but it didn’t seem to want to budge. “None of this is your job.” 

“What do you mean?” you blinked. 

“You said last night, that you don’t see us for months at a time,” Frank reasoned, scraping harder with his pick. “And then...last night, you finally see us again, and this happens.”  

“You couldn’t have predicted something like that,” you assured him. 

“We complicate your life, Y/N,” Frank frowned. “I complicate your life. You don’t need this fucking drama. The best thing I could for you, is probably just leave you alone. Stop inviting you to see us when we’re in town. I’ve grown apart from a lot of friends since I left New Jersey. Why can’t I just let this relationship go, too?” 

“I don’t want you to do that!” you protested. “Frank, our friendship is really important to me. I would be miserable if you suddenly stopped inviting me to hang out.” 

“I don’t just want to hang out with you,” Frank mumbled. “I want more than that.” 

“....Huh?” you cocked your head. 

“But it’s not fair, for me to ask you for that,” Frank signed. “Not when I know damn well, that I’m about to spend the majority of 2007, hundreds of miles away from you.” 

“Ask me for what?” you demanded. You suddenly remembered the words, he had spoken to you on the balcony, before your night had gone straight to hell. 

“I wouldn’t look twice, at any of those girls, if  a certain someone, told me, that she wanted me to be hers, and hers alone.”

“Nothing,” Frank murmured, picking fruitlessly at the wax on the floor again. “It’s stupid. Ignore me.”

“I won’t ignore it,” you insisted. “Frank, what were you going to ask me?” 

Frank looked at his shoes. 

You sat down on the floor next to him, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. “....Frank?” 

“I was going to ask you...to be mine,” Frank confessed. 

You gasped, audibly. No way….he really felt the same way about you, that you did about him?!

“But, it’s not right, for me to ask you, to make that commitment to me!” Frank said miserably. “Not when I’m just gonna disappear on you again. And...you saw, last night, what my life has turned into. What my band has turned into. I’m a mess….why would you want to be with someone like me?” 

“Frankie, I love you,” you said plainly. Now that you knew he returned your feelings, there was no point in hiding it anymore. “I’ve loved you for years.” 

He raised his head to look at you. His hazel eyes, swimming with tears again, stared into yours. “You….you mean that?” 

“Yes,” you said emotionally. “I’ve been in love with you for so long….but, you’re a famous rock star now. I’m still just an art school dropout. You can do so much better than me.” 

“Funny,” Frank chuckled bitterly, “I was about to say the same thing, about you.”

“Frank, there isn’t anybody better than you,” you sighed, and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him into a searing kiss. 

His lips met yours, hesitant at first, but then suddenly you were toppling to the floor, as he pressed himself against you, with four years worth of buried desire. 

Life was so short. You realized that now. 

His hands tangled into your hair as he kissed you over and over. “Be mine,” he gasped, coming up for air. “Please be mine, Y/N….even if it fucks up everything…” 

“Frankie, it’s okay,” you assured him, as you gazed up at him tenderly. “I don’t care if you’re gone a hundred nights. You’re worth waiting for. Just promise me, that when you do finally come home, I can….have you.” 

“Oh, you can have me any way you want me,” Frank breathed, leaning down to kiss you passionately again. “I won’t touch anyone else while I’m away on tour….nobody else is as beautiful as you. You’re the only one that I want.”

“You’re the only one that I want, too, Frankie,” you promised him, claiming his mouth once again. “I want you every day. Not just when you’re the toast of the town. Not just when times are good. I want to be there with you, through the bad times, too. I want to help you when you’re scared, or even when something fucked up happens, like last night... because I love you. I’ll stay with you, no matter what….even when it’s hard, or it’s wrong, or you’re making mistakes. I don’t care. I just want to be with you.” 

“I want to be with you, too, Y/N,” Frank vowed, kissing your eyes, your nose, your mouth. It was like he couldn’t get enough. “You’re the woman I choose….because, hey, there might be lots of women who’d love to be my New Year’s Eve kiss. But, you’re the only woman I know, who would stick by my side, helping me clean up bottles on New Year’s Day.”

[voidcat]

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Characters: Matsukawa Issei/Reader

requested by anon, prompt 9

Warnings: reckless drinking, dont drink the amount you cant handle kids, esp if you’re not supervised by someone you trust

Word Count: 2.3k , this was supposed to bE SHORT, seijoh brainrot........

It’s loud, too loud. If they weren’t in your head, you’re sure you wouldn’t be able to hear your thoughts. Is that what people listen to as music nowadays?

The flashy lights all around and people keep bumping into you, you remember once again why you’re not the party type. Which brings the question: what are you doing at one?

See, the answer to it is quite simple, really. Maybe a little sad too, even pathetic. You’re beyond caring for the night. You’ve gone to a party, can it get any lower than that? What a waste of night, is the only thing you can say to yourself.

Placing the untouched cup in your hand to the counter, you look around to find the bathroom. Exiting the kitchen is a nice first step. The blur of bodies only make your task more difficult. Getting tired of people bumping into you, you start shouldering the ones not moving, crashing into people if they refuse to make way, expecting you to go through the five centimeter long gap.

And at long last, you find what you were looking for. Checking to see no one else is in, you lock the door behind you and turn on the tap. Splashing some cold water to your cheeks, careful not to mess with your make up, you take a look at yourself in the mirror. Why did you let him drag you into this in the first place?

Or better yet, why do you keep following wherever Matsukawa Issei takes you, never saying no, never refusing the puppy looks, always right by his side... why do you keep doing this to yourself? Since when have you gotten so weak towards him, for him?

Exiting the bathroom and spotting him in the distance, you recall earlier today. It was just a usual hangout, nothing special. Typical grabbing a lunch together and procrastinating when the reason you met in the first place was studying. Thirty minutes of silence, finally finding your focus fully on your text book and you jolt up suddenly at the contact you feel by your waist. Looking to your right and seeing his pen hanging by your waist, ready to poke again if necessary, you just rub your side.

“What, Issei?”

“There’s a party tonight, starting around 8. Would you like to go with me?” Oh, this again. Another hopeless party invitation. He never seems to give up, though knowing how much you dislike the parties. One party couldn’t hurt, right? You can’t help but admit to yourself how curious you are to see him at one. So you just shrug. “Sure, pick me up by 7 if we want grab dinner beforehand.”

“Look I know you don’t like the- Wait, really? Are you sure?” The caught off-guard look suits him.

“Yeah, I mean I kept saying no but it’s time I expand my… extra curriculum activities.” He grabs you by the shoulders.

“Who are you and what have you done to (Lastname)? They would never accept an offer from me that easily.” You can’t help but laugh at his dramatic antic. Pushing his hands off you, holding the said hand while you can, you roll your eyes again.

“I am fine. Can’t I be the supportive friend for once?”

“Oh but please! You always are the supportive one.” He says as he wraps you in a big hug. It’s moments like these when you feel your breathe hitched, heart racing and brain imagining a scenario you’ll never get to live.

As you eagerly make your way to him, the figures in your way make way and you see he’s not alone. Some girl talking to him, if eyeing someone like that and touching their muscles nonstop can be count as talking, not to mention leaning over him on a constant. What’s worse is he doesn’t look bothered slightest bit. Can you blame him, though? You’re sure it’s not the first time she has approached him, she hangs around the gym sometimes, walks up to him after their shared classes, she’s clearly interested and makes no effort in hiding it.

She is beautiful, no straight man, or lesbian or bisexual, in their right mind would ignore someone such as her. And yet you can’t help but feel jealous. Jealous that you have no chance of competition, no chance of winning, no such luck in being seen as “‘more than just a friend”. Changing your direction suddenly, you walk back up to the kitchen and grab the first untouched cup you see. Searching for a bottle of alcohol next, you don’t care what it is as long as it is alcohol, you pour it down until your cup is filled to the brim.

Looking outside, you can see them again. Issei smiling and looking as breathtaking as ever, it hurts that the smile is for her. You down the whole cup before you can register what you’re doing. The party is just getting started, you better get into the mood.

After a while it gets fuzzy. You lost count of the drinks you’ve had, the shots you’ve taken too. You’re glad to have eaten before the party at least, the alcohol won’t hit as hard.

Maybe it’s already hit? You’re not sure, you feel warm and bubbly but you still walk just fine. Walking up to people and joining the conversations randomly, leaving as quickly once you’re bored, you walk around and around and around...

It must be late, is it late? You try checking your watch but you can’t make sense of the little circle plastered on your wrist, it seems too tiny.

At some point, you’re singing along to a song you know. And making the most absurd dance moves to it. It doesn’t matter, everyone else around is drunk as hell, looking more ridiculous than you are, moves not even making any sense. It makes all the crashing more understandable, it’s good to just move around and not apologize once. To let some steam off, get loose and do whatever the hell you like.

Except it isn’t as good because one thing you truly want in that moment and you don’t even know the room he is in. Maybe you should have another drink just in case and decide to cross the line from tipsy to drunk. It’d be good to forget about tonight once you wake up.

Making a 180 to go back to the kitchen for another drink, you crash into something warm, someone. Probably a chest. Feeling warm hands on your shoulders adjusting you, to keep your balance, you don’t even look up. Waving your hand in the air, you shout out an apology.

“(Name)? Is that you? I’ve been looking all over for you!” Hearing your name come out of someone’s lips is unexpected, but recognizing the voice makes all the fuzziness go away in a second. You make a mental note to name it the “Issei effect” if you ever come up with a hangover elixir of sorts.

“Hiiii Mattsun.” Hearing yourself speak feels weird, especially if you have no idea if your lips are actually moving. “I’ve been here this whole time! Was about to go get a drink, want some?” You can imagine the worried look on him, so you keep your gaze focused on his tshirt. What was that color called anyway?

“Are you sure you’re alright? We can leave if you wa-“ he stops mid-sentence to examine you from head to toes. “Have you been drinking?”

The tone in his voice indicates, it’s wiser not to answer him. Your mouth decides otherwise. “Maybeee.”

“But you hate alcohol! And you’re a lightweight!”

“Nope!” You pop the ‘p’ as you reply. “Had a change of heart! I like new stuff now! Maybe you don’t know me as well as you thought.” Crossing your arms, you look to your left. “Hah, lightweight!” You mumble.

“I mean it. If you want to leave, we can. When I asked you to come, I didn’t do it so we could get separated. I just wanted to spend some time with my friend.”

Ouch. That word sure hurts. More than the movies and books can even tell. You suddenly feel sick, stomach empty and deadweight.

“M’kay, let’s leave.” You say softly.  Seeing the smile rise like the sun on his face, you can feel butterflies in your stomach. Truly feel it. The term no longer sounds ridiculous when it becomes real for you.

“Okay. Let me just grab by jacket and we’ll be out in a minute. Wait by the door if you want, it’s whiter there.” He says and leaves in a hurry.

Making your way to the door in slow steps, you reach it in no time. When you look back at the apartment, all the people partying seem so irritating to you. It’s hard to believe you were just like them a while ago. Eyes trailing the crowd, you see Issei again, a smile making way to your lips, almost on instinct now.

It dies out before it can bloom.

Because there she is, again, and he is still smiling at her and nodding and talking and suddenly all the hurry he made to find his jacket seems like it was not to make you not wait, but to get to her quickly.

Looking to the hall, you spot a tall boy holding a bottle of what you hope is booze. Grabbing it with a “Sorry, emergency.” You take a big gulp of the bottle. To hell with staying tipsy.

God, is that how plain vodka tastes? The Russians must be out of their minds. And yet, you keep taking gulp after gulp, sip after sip and open the door to escape the suffocating party air.

If Issei wants to find you so badly, he must know how to do it.

Walking a bit and sitting in the pavement, your head drops to your knees, bottle still in one hand. You’re not sure how long it has been since you arrived.

Hearing footsteps coming closer to you and coming to a stop right by your side, you look up to find an angry Issei. Arms crossed, he’s looking down at you, trying to look as mad as he can but worry painted in his eyes. It hurts how well you know him sometimes.

“So?” You make no noise.

“Care to explain?” He’s tapping his foot this time, probably to get your attention. You grunt in response.

“Do Not grunt at me young lady. I am only asking because I am worried, can’t you see!” Voice raised, you realize you’ve never heard him raise his voice, not at you.

“Maybe I don’t want you to worry about me! Or maybe I do but not like this! Have you thought about it?” You snap.

“What’s that supposed to mean?-“ not waiting for him to finish his words, you stand up fast, stumble for a mini second in the process, the bottle gripped tighter, and you start walking away.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” He calls our behind you, walking after you.

“Away from you! Leave me alone Mattsun.” You yell back, quickening your steps. Damn his height and tall legs because he catches up to you in no time and grabs your wrist, trying to stop you from going any further.

You expect a “fine.” And a “no.” And maybe a “stop being so childish and talk to me.” But not a “Why are you calling me that?”

The softness in his voice catches you off guard. You stop and turn to look at him, your wrist already free of his grasp. “Calling you what?”

“You never call me Mattsun. It’s always Issei. Did I do something wrong?” You don’t meet his gaze.

Maybe it’s the hurt in his words, the sadness in his eyes or the alcohol in your blood. When you look up to meet his gaze, you’re certain you see something die. “I don’t want to talk about it.” You gather enough energy to say the words.

“Why now? We’ve never hold back anything from one another.” You turn your head at his words again. This is exactly why you don’t want to talk. Hearing a sigh behind you, he clears his throat. Probably one last try, you’re determined to keep your stance.

“Look, whatever it is, please tell me. Maybe you’re drunk and happen to be the unfiltered honest kind. You may as well not be drunk at all and honestly this is a lot of better. But please give me a reason, an explanation and if it’s so bad or awkward, we won’t talk about it in the morning and pretend we were both drunk. How does that sound?” The offer itself sounds ideal and he, hopeful. You nod your head as you sit down on the pavement, the bottle now in your lap. Following your cue, he sits next to you.

The words are a mumble of incoherent sounds. You can sense him leaning towards you, considering to say your next words loudly, just to irritate him, you decide against it.

“I don’t want you to worry about me as a friend.” You say. He looks confused. Silencing him with your finger before he can say anything, you continue. “I want you to see me in a different light for once. I am sick of the back and forth dance we keep having.”

He stares at you for what feels like forever. Followed by laughter. It only gets louder.

“Stop- Stop that! Are you… laughing at my feelings?” You make no effort in hiding the disappointment in your tone.

“No! It’s just- I- I’ve been thinking of the same thing for too long. I can’t believe we were both so blind.” Words interrupted by occasional chuckles, he seems happy, glowing even. You throw yourself at him, arms around his neck.

He speaks to your head next: “If you hadn’t been drinking, I’d even kiss you right now b-“

“Do it then. I am not drunk.” You whisper to his chest.

He kisses the top of your head. “Tomorrow, I promise. For now, let’s get you home.”

[joetatoeheads]

i read “if he wanted you he’d make an effort if he missed you he’d make time” and LOVED IT SM its so well written!! could u make an ilya imagine with some pre relationship angst like that one? thank u hehe

Word Count: 2.7K

Warnings: None that I can think of? But I am so sorry this took so long.

Masterlist

Natalie. It had always been Natalie. Natalie was David’s best friend. Ilya was Natalie and David’s best friend. Y/N was no one’s best friend. A mere side character in everyone else’s story and that was no problem. In Y/N’s opinion it was better to be heard than seen. Y/N had spent almost her entire life surrounded more beautiful, funny, and charismatic people, there was just no room for her to shine.

Life went on for the four and all of a sudden David’s in LA with millions of followers, Natalie joins him as his assistant, and Ilya stayed but it was obvious sometimes he wanted to leave to LA but Y/N was holding him back. Not in a bad way, but she would not leave to go to California out of all places.

“You’re leaving, now?”

“I have some business down there and David is letting me stay at his place.”

“How long are you going to be gone?” asked Y/N.

“Just a week or two. Hey when I can come back, we can go out and have brunch for your birthday.”

“Okay.” Smiled Y/N.

Ilya did not come back in time because David was shooting a bit for his vlog so Ilya missed his flight. Y/N spent her birthday with her mom who baked her some cupcakes and sung her happy birthday alone. It had always been the two of them so friends quickly became family. Y/N always got too attached to friends thinking they were like brothers and sisters but they never felt the same way.

For years Y/N would invite people over or go to the movies. Sometimes they came and sometimes they didn’t. So, the friend group got smaller and smaller over the years. David and Natalie left for LA and Y/N wasn’t too good with keeping in touch some days. Ilya was the only one left, the only consistent one.

“Do you think I should move to LA?” asked Ilya.

“What?”

“Do you think I should move to LA?” repeated Ilya.

“I-I…I don’t know.”

“David said I could crash with him for a bit if I want to get a place over there and I think I might do it.”

“You…you would leave like permanently?” asked Y/N.

“Maybe, I don’t know, I could. You could go to. We could go to David’s also Nat was asking me about you. They said it’s been months since you last talked to them.”

“It hasn’t been months.”

“David said it was and Nat showed me the messages. We should go! It would be good.”

“I don’t do planes.”

“I never said anything about planes,” smiled Ilya.

“Are you- are you suggesting you drive. I can’t drive, you know I can’t drive and…and we can’t drive across the country. You can’t drive across the country!” rambled Y/N.

“I want you to come to California and you have a fear of planes. Seems like the only option.”

“Oh my god! Oh my god! What the fuck Ilya! How long would it be like a week?”

Ilya laughed at her, “It’s a day nonstop but knowing you and your bladder might take us a week,” joked Ilya.

“Are you serious? Because I’ve always wanted to leave the state! Oh my god Ilya. I can’t believe we are going to do this.”

“We might have to bring someone else.”

Things just crashed, “Why?”

“Two maybe three days in a car across the country? Y/N we would kill each other,” laughed Ilya.

“I could not talk. Would that help?” It was a genuine question because this was the most fun Y/N would ever have.

“I was joking. I’ll call Natalie and see how long we are going to stay. Pack lightly my car isn’t that big!” Ilya left Y/N in a state of shock. A road trip across the country with a boy, her best friend, and she would finally leave the state. It was a dream come true.

Two weeks in California was not at all what Y/N expected. It took three days to get to David’s with Y/N wanted to stop to take a picture at every sign as they entered the state, her constant need to go to the bathroom, and wanting to take pictures at every beautiful sunset. At first Ilya was annoyed but it like the smile you would get and how your eyes lit up whenever you jumped up and down ready to take out your phone.

You both got to David’s house around 4 in the morning but you had already knocked out. Ilya was the one to carry you into the house and lay you down on the couch.

“She looks so different,” observed David in slight worry.

“It’s been a rough couple of months. Her mom got sick and…”

“Oh…oh okay. She just- she looks so…I don’t know.”

“The trip really made her happy,” assured Ilya.

“Good, that’s good. I had Natalie fix up the room I thought - I don’t know what – You two are sharing a bed.”

“Are you okay?” asked Ilya.

“Yeah, yeah I just…I didn’t think she would come.”

“Dude you’re acting like she’s dying or something. Are you okay?”

“Does Y/N have a boyfriend?” asked David.

Ilya did not expect that, “Uh…yeah, I think she does.” That was a complete lie. But Ilya didn’t think Y/N would want to start dating in such a hard part of her life.

“Really? Matt thought she was pretty and asked if she was seeing anyone. I told him no, but I’ll have to text him later.”

“Matt King? They wouldn’t work out,” said Ilya.

“Really? I thought they would. Y/N always gravitated toward certain men.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Y/N likes strong men-“

“Matt isn’t strong.” Interrupted Ilya.

“Not like that. Y/N always had you to protect her our entire lives and she just needs someone to protect her.”

“Matt wouldn’t do that.”

“How do you know?” asked David.

“Because Matt would get frustrated easily with her. You know how he blows up on everybody else whenever he is told he’s wrong. Y/N takes time to understand. Remember how you hated her?”

“I didn’t hate her. She was just very straight forward…I wasn’t used to that.”

David and Ilya went to sleep while Y/N was still on the couch. What they didn’t know, Y/N had been awake while they talked. She had heard everything and she didn’t know what to think. Ilya lied to David and she could tell him the truth but what good what they do.

The next day when the four of them were talking before the rest of the group came, David accidentally mentioned a boy when Natalie asked Y/N if she had a special someone in her life, “Sort of.” Answered Y/N.

“Sort of? So are you two friends with benefits or something?”

Y/N briefly looked at Ilya before turning her full attention to Natalie, “I don’t think he wants anything serious. It’s…weird.”

“You don’t deserve to be lead on.” smiled Natalie. She protected Y/N in her own way. A sister type that Y/N never had.

“I don’t think it’s being strung along maybe just... waiting for the right time? Does that make sense?”

“Sometimes there is never a right time. Sometimes you have to make one.” Said Ilya.

Ilya and Y/N looked at each other, almost like the two wanted to say something more but didn’t. Then would have been the perfect time for Y/N to say she has been in love with Ilya ever since David left in California. Y/N only had him left and maybe it was simply a childhood attachment or maybe it was love, either way she knew something was there.

For Ilya she was the first one by his side when things got rough or whenever he got happy news, Y/N had been the first person he thought about. For him, maybe it was his mind tricking him into settling, but to be with Y/N was not settling entirely. If some guy wanted to be with Y/N the only thing Ilya could think about was that he won’t be kind to her. He won’t be patient and understand how picky she is about everything and it’s not because she wanted to be frustrating or complicated but because it made her calm.

Who knew if the new guy was going to understand that?

The conversation changed and it was maddening. To think something but not have the courage to say it… that’s one of the saddest things to happen to a person. Days later Ilya watched as Matt asked Y/N on a date. He kept his mouth shut even though everything felt wrong but she was happy. She could not stop smiling after the date and her face would get all red at the mention of Matt’s name.

All Ilya could think about was it didn’t feel right.

“Does she know?” asked Natalie one night. David was in his room editing with Joe and Ilya was on the couch looking at his phone every ten seconds thinking Y/N was going to text him.

“Know what?”

“That you have feelings for her?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Y/N’s on her third date with Matt and you are going crazy looking at your phone. What, you think she’s going to call you and ask you to pick her up from her horrible date?” asked Natalie.

“…Maybe.”

“I doubt the date is going all wrong. Matt spent a week preparing the night.”

“What?! What is he preparing for? What do you think they are doing?” asked Ilya in a slight panic.

“He didn’t tell you?”

“No! Nobody tells me anything anymore!”

“He made like a candlelight dinner in the backyard. He went all out with steaks and stuff,” explained Natalie. Ilya laughed. He didn’t know. “What?” asked Natalie.

“Y/N doesn’t eat meat. She’s been a vegetarian for some years now because meat makes her throw up.”

“Really? I always feel like she eats meat whenever we go out?”

“She eats it sometimes but it makes her sick after. Steak makes her sick for a couple days like a really bad hangover.” Explained Ilya.

“I’ll be sure to remember that.” Nodded Natalie as she left him alone on the couch.

Y/N did come back to David’s and she immediately looked for Ilya in a panic. She looked like she was about to cry.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Ilya was panicking thinking the worse possible scenarios in his head.

“I ate steak. I ate meat! I feel sick. I feel like throwing up. Oh my god, I feel like dying!”

“Alright let’s go into the bathroom.”

It only took seconds before Y/N was throwing up and apologizing for throwing up. It was typical for her. Years spent in the background, to be anyone’s center of attention, it felt uncomfortable.

“What do you need me to do?” asked Ilya.

Y/N couldn’t talk. She felt gross, she didn’t know what she was supposed to do after this. Do you take medicine? Do you rehydrate? Do you eat again? Do you sleep it all off? All those questions made Y/N start crying.

“I’m sorry.”

“You really don’t have to say that. It’s a really bad habit.”

“I could not, not eat it. He made it.”

“You have the right to refuse something, especially when it makes you sick.”

“But…what if he thinks that I’m not worth the trouble? What if he thinks I’m too picky about things and leaves?” asked Y/N.

“Picky is one thing, but something like meat making you physically sick is not being overdramatic or anything. You should speak up more.”

Y/N nodded but she didn’t think it was right. It someone took the time to make you something, you can’t just turn it away. That would be bad. Ilya helped Y/N into a bed and took care of her the next day but he was itching to go over to Matt’s and talk to him. David had talked him out of it, but he did go to Matt’s several days after.

Before Matt and Y/N’s fourth date, Ilya went over to Matt. It was an awkward conversation but Ilya was ready to burst out with all this information.

“What’s up?”

“She can’t eat meat! It makes her sick but she likes chocolate. Buy her chocolate and she’ll be happy. It’s one of her favorite’s things in the world but don’t buy her a lot of it. She likes chocolate-covered strawberries but hates chocolate cake because she thinks it’s too much and it also makes her sick. She loves ice cream but none of that fancy stuff with a bunch of flavors or nuts. Y/N likes strawberry flavored stuff the best and her favorite ice cream is butter pecan but that will never be her first choice so you have to pick it out and she’ll love it.

When you take her to new places, you have to be by her side. Sometimes you’ll have to order for her if she keeps on flipping through the menu because she’s indecisive at new places. But if you order for her, you have to be careful because if you mess up and chose the wrong thing, she won’t say anything and make herself sick. And don’t leave her alone or she starts to freak out and might have an anxiety attack or a panic attack. You should learn the difference because she’ll want to be hugged during a panic attack but she’ll want to be alone for hours after an anxiety attack.

And comedy isn’t her thing. She feels awkward during romantic comedies so you should only really watch horror movies, they’re her favorite. But she’s picky about what movies she likes. They either have to be really bad that she can’t stop talking about it or really good that she can’t stop talking about it. If you watch something with a lot of jump scares expect her to come to you because she will get nightmares.

If she’s quiet she’s replaying things in her head and that makes her really sad so you have to watch out for those things. Be careful what you say because she’ll replay the conversation over and over again in her head for months, sometimes even years. It might seem like a lot but it’s worth it. She…she’s worth it.” Ilya took a deep breath and rather than stay and listen to Matt he left and pretended like things never happened.

“Ilya did you… did you talk to Matt?”

“Uh, yeah I did.”

“What did you tell him? He called off our date.”

“I just told him you got sick and you don’t eat meat.” Answered Ilya.

“Is that it?”

“Yeah.”

“Ilya.”

He couldn’t look at her. He couldn’t tell her the truth. “We should stay for another week or two.”

“Okay.”

Another week or two for Ilya was only a couple of days for Y/N. She wanted to leave. She wanted to get away from California and return back to her life. California was not for her, it was foreign, it was wrong. Even with her fear of planes, Y/N wanted to leave so a plane was her only option. Years in a big city, she had always relied on public transport so learning to drive never was a top priority.

Waiting for a car to leave in the middle of the night wasn’t what Y/N wanted to do. Only Natalie and David knew she was leaving but not like this. When Ilya woke up the next morning he looked for Y/N to ask her what she wanted for lunch but he couldn’t find her.

“Natalie! Where is Y/N?”

“She left.”

“Left? Left where?”

“Back home. She wanted to leave last minutes and her flight was really early this morning so she left around 4.”

“Flight? She can’t go on a plane she’s afraid of them. How long ago did she leave.”

“She’s probably home by now. It’s too late.”

“Late? No its not! She probably had a panic attack; she needs someone to calm her down. I have to go. I have to go make sure she’s okay.”

“Ilya, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Said Natalie.

“Why?!”

“Because you always being there isn’t always a good thing.”

“You two left, okay! You two left and she couldn’t get out a bed for months! I was there! I was there and she needs me.”

Ilya didn’t mean to yell at Natalie like that but he was upset. Y/N would never just leave without telling him. For years, it was the two of them going through life but now it seemed like he didn’t have Y/N anymore.

When Ilya returned to Chicago, Y/N pretended like LA didn’t happen. Things returned to normal but Ilya didn’t tell her anything. It was a horrible thing to have something to say and not have the courage to say it.

[coolskinless]

Between Pleasure and Pain

I was getting ready for our date night, even though I felt a little uncomfortable because it was that time of the month and my belly did not feel right. I usually never get cramps, but I do not know what it was with me tonight that I just did not feel good enough. So, I decided to call Lou and change the plans.

*On the phone with Lou*

Lou: Hey babe, what’s up?

Y/N: Hey babe, I don’t feel very good enough to go out tonight, can we just say in this time?

Lou: Omg, sure! Are you ok? What’s wrong? Do you need me to take you something? Do you need to go to a doctor? Tell me what to do, what do you need?

Lou sounded frenetic which made me giggle because of how adorable he is.

Y/N: Noo haha I’m fine, I just don’t feel comfortable enough to go out, maybe we can stay here tonight…order something…watch a movie?

Lou: Of course! Whatever you want, you got it. Are you sure you don’t need me to take you something? Medicine or…?

Y/N: Nah, I’m good, thank you babe, you’re very sweet.

Lou: Mmmkay, I’m on my way.

We hung up, and I just smiled looking at my phone, he´s just so sweet and attentive, he literally can’t be any more perfect. I put my phone down and start putting some more comfortable clothes because just the thought of putting on some jeans made my uterus rumble.

A few minutes passed and I heard a knock on the door and I immediately get happy butterflies in my stomach instead of angry wasps in my lower belly, so I drag my sorry but excited ass to the door and open up to see Lou holding a grocery bag up to his face. Just when I thought he could not be more perfect, he tops himself.

Lou: I did not know in what mood you might be in for, so I brought you everything.

He dumped the whole bag in the kitchen island, and he did bring me everything. Ice cream, instant noodles, strawberry milk, spicy chips, mini cakes, the whole ass store! I looked at him with grateful eyes and reached out my hands to cup his face.

Y/N: Thank you babe…

Then joined out lips in a gentle and warm kiss. His lips are so soft and plump, his hand grab me tenderly by my waist and pull me closer to him. I move my hands to the back of his neck and intensify our kiss. He really is the perfect man.

We break the kiss and look at each other smiling.

Y/N: So, what movie do you wanna watch?

Lou giggles

Lou: You pick the movie, first I wanna make my famous homemade instant noodles for my sick girl.

Half an hour went by and Lou finished making his so called “famous instant noodles”, lowkey they looked bomb, smelled spicy, lots of veggies and an egg, just how I liked it. I was grabbing my first bite, but as soon as I swallowed the spicy broth, my cramps started to act up again intensely, like Satan started to shake hands with my womb. So, I couldn’t help but to make a painful face with still the noodles in my mouth. Lou started to panic, as usual and came to my side of the island.

Lou: What is it!? You don’t like it!? Is it too spicy!? I’m so sorry babe! Spit it out, its ok! Tell me what’s wrong! What do I do!?

I smiled at him as I still chewed the food in my mouth, trying to look better so he would stop worrying. But the look on his face told my total opposite, he looked concerned af.

Y/N: I’m fine babe, its not the noodles, its just that time of the month and it hurts a bit.

Lou: Omg babe, why didn’t you tell me? I’m so sorry!

Lou apologized as he hugged me in the chair, putting one hand in my back, the other at the back of my head and resting me on his chest.

Y/N: Sorry for what? Its not your fault.

I smiled while looking at him

Lou: Still! I don’t like it when my baby is in pain.

Lou looked at me with those puppy dog eyes, and it just made me melt. I convinced him that I was fine after much insisting to go to the doctor lol. We finished our noodles, we talked and laughed about our day, this kind of distraction is just what I needed to make me feel better. Then we grabbed some more of the snacks Lou brought and moved to the couch. We started watching some movie while eating the snacks, but at some point, I feel asleep in his chest, my favorite place.

I was sleeping comfortably with the movie noises on the background when all of a sudden I feel a sharp pain in my lower belly that made me sit up abruptly scaring the shit out of Lou who was also falling asleep.

Lou: Babe, what’s wrong!? Are you okay!?

Y/N: Yeah, it’s just…

I couldn’t even finish my sentence, I just sat there holding my belly trying to make the pain away. Lou held me tight against him and surprisingly the pain went away almost immediately. I was happily surprised and looked at him in awe.

Y/N: It stopped…

Lou: It did!?

Y/N: Yeah, I guess it has something to do with the apartment being so cold and your body temperature being warm.

Lou: Okay, that settles it.

Lou got up, picked me up in his arms bridal style and started walking to my bedroom.

Y/N: What are you doing? Haha

Lou: We are going to bed

He said that with total confidence, and I was in shock because we´ve never been in bed together. But I couldn’t help but to look at his side profile and smile at him.

He tucked me into bed, went to put the unfinished groceries away, turn the TV off, to switch all the lights off so just the moonlight entered the room and crawled in next to me under the sheets. This was a next step to our relationship, but I was loving it. Just the two of us together, in bed, you could listen to our breathing, and just by feeling Lou´s warm body next to mine made me feel so much better.

The hours went by and I didn’t even notice when I fell asleep, but another sharp pain woke me up out or nowhere. I opened my eyes and saw Lou´s face get illuminated by the moonlight entering the dark room through the window. I felt a sense of peace just by looking at him sleep, so calm and beautiful. I wanted to keep admiring him, but a second wave of pain appeared like the one in the living room, making me move and moan a little, waking Lou up.

Lou: Babe, what’s wrong?

Lou´s groggy and confused voice next to me made me stop my complaining and look up at him because he highkey sounds very sexy when he just woke up. His roommates are very lucky guys.

Y/N: I’m fine…

I say out of breath, while I press on my lower belly trying to make the pain away. I can tell by the look in his eyes that he knows that he can’t do much. So, without saying anything, he just grabs me and pulls me close to him, again, my head in his chest, his arms wrapped around me, our legs intertwined, if my lower stomach wasn’t so uncomfortable I would say this is heaven.

Some minutes went by and the pain would come and go, mild, I can handle it. But it started getting worse to the point where I couldn’t keep still, I was moving and moaning and shaking. All I could do was hug Lou for some comfort.

Lou´s POV

It hurt my soul so see Y/N in pain, I couldn’t do much but to hold her and wait for her to feel better. But then something happened...

She was moaning, and moving her body against mine, I didn’t know what to do. She was like, asleep still, but in her discomfort, she couldn’t keep still. She was moaning and rubbing her body with mine, her legs went up and down on mine, she kept tilting her head back with her eyes closed, just enough of the moonlight hit her so I can see her features het enlightened in the most flattering way. I’ve never seen her this way, not that I haven’t imagined it, I actually think about her like this all the time but seeing her like this in real life is just so much better.

Little moans escape her slightly opened lips, making me go crazy, but I can’t do anything about it. Her arms keep moving back and forth at the back of my neck, and all I could think about was this is how she would look like if I was insider her.

Lou get your shit together…your girlfriend is in pain and you are here next to her just perverting yourself. You´re right…I should stop thinking, I should stop thinking about her breasts pressed to my chest, her hips pounding against mine, her breath against my ear, saying my name over and over again. How can I focus on making her feel better when she is turning around, and her ass is literally pressing on my cock??? I mean..I cant to much but hug her anyways, so I just hug her by her tiny waist and pull her even closer to me to feel her even better. She keeps moving and if I let myself go I can easily cum right now, but I keep my cool and just snuggle my face into the back of her neck and breathe in real deep. She smells amazing, a combination of her shampoo and Y/N, makes my blood boil in lust just like that. I run my hand through the side of her body making a perfect wave between her arm, her waist, and her hips, I cant believe that this is…like, she…and…I have no words to describe the effects that she has on me.

She turns around again, facing me and breaking my trance, she has her eyes open and is looking at me. I was breathless for a second because I didn’t know how long she was awake, if she felt me grow in my pants, maybe I made her feel uncomfortable by touching her in her sleep, I don’t want her to think that I don’t care about her feeling sick. I was lost in my thoughts when I feel Y/N lips against mine.

Y/N POV

I was half asleep and half awake, I was so uncomfortable, I couldn’t find a comfortable position to sleep in, the only thing that made me not lose my mind was Lou next to me holding me tight. I was moving nonstop in my sleep without realizing it when I felt it.

Lou was rock hard next to my thighs, pressing against them, me with still my eyes closed I kept them that way, I don’t want him to notice that I felt him and scare him away. I’ve always thought about Lou that way, we’ve been dating for two months and since we met, I’ve always wondered what’s he like in bed. We´ve never done much but make out on the couch, but this was different, he was rock hard, and I knew he wanted me. So, I just kept pretending that I was asleep in discomfort and kept moving, the only thing that wasn’t pretend was the pain, the cramps actually made me shake, I was just gonna keep my eyes closed while I ride the waves of pain and see how Lou reacts.

I turn around and purposely face my butt against his bulge, feeling grow harder. I don’t know if he is asleep anymore, but I don’t care, I keep moving slowly and little by little, so he doesn’t realize that I’m awake. But then I feel him trace my side with his hand, his slow steady hand drives me crazy, then he puts his face in the back of my hair and I feel him inhale and exhale, he is definitely not asleep anymore. So, I turn around and look at him wide awake, I stare at him for a few seconds and just see him look a little surprised, like waiting for me to do something, but all I can do is cup his face in my hands and press my lips against his.

I would love to continue this kiss and see what happens next, but unfortunately I’m on my period and we cant do anything about it, so I just kiss him softly and return to our original position and try to fall sleep again.

Lou´s POV

A few days have gone by since that night, and all I can think about is Y/N. Her body in the moonlight, her collarbone exposed, her thighs rubbing mine, her lips letting out little moans. I find myself distracted thinking about that in everything I do, while I’m cooking or eating, while I’m in the studio, with the guys, cleaning, or literally just laying awake at night thinking about her. The bathroom of our dorm has been very busy lately, not gonna lie, she is all I can think about. Its hurts that I can´t see her every day because of my schedule, but I gonna see her tonight and I cannot wait.

Y/N POV

A few days have gone by since that night, and all I can think about is Lou. I keep daydreaming of what it would be like to have him inside me, moaning in my ear, squeezing my flesh…ok that’s enough. I need to focus, because thanks to all these thoughts I have been washing a lot more of my underwear than any other clothes lately. I’m gonna see him tonight, and maybe who knows, maybe tonight is the night.

Y/N POV

Lou arrives late at night as per usual, he greats me with a kiss like always but it feels different this time, the kiss was longer and more passionate than usual, you know…those kisses that leave you breathing a little heavier after. And in general, you feel like there is a heavier mood around the room, like, dense, but I ignore it. We order dinner and start our nightly ritual of eating and watching a movie. While we have dinner, we talk about our day and just regular stuff, but with these glares he gives me, I finally figure out what this dense mood I feel is, its sexual tension. You can feel the sexual tension in the air like fog, this boy wants action tonight, and you know what? He´s gonna get it.

We finish our dinner and move to the couch to watch a movie; we start cuddling like usual, me slightly on top of him resting on his chest and his arms around me, but the dense fog of sexual tension is still there. I look up at him and smile looking for some clue, but he just gives me a side smile with a kiss on my forehead. So I look back at the TV and continue the movie, but then I feel his hand slowly lower from my upper back to my lower back where my skin is showing because of my crop top and I feel his thumb draw a little heart between my Venus’s dimples which send shivers all over my body. I look up at him and we stare at each other’s eyes for like 5 seconds looking for permission, and we join our lips on a profound kiss. My hands are around his neck and his hands are all around me, we continue kissing for a few minutes with hot and heavy breathing before I break the kiss to look straight into his eyes again and tell him:

Y/N: Lou…can you make love to me tonight?

Lou´s pupils dilate with hunger and just nods lightly before joining his lips with mine once again. He stands up with me on top of him and we stumble across the room on the way to my bed while his hands rumble across my body in desperation. Oh my god, this is finally happening.

The back of my knees feel the edge of the bed and Lou lays on top of me as we continue kissing frantically. For a second Lou break the kiss and with heavy breathing he looks at me asks:

Lou: Are you sure you wanna do this?

Y/N: Im sure…

And I pull him back to me kissing him anxiously, I run my tongue lightly through his bottom lip and bite it softly, making him let out a little grunt from the back of his throat. Which was the drop that spilled the glass, I was soaking wet and ready for him.

The make out session became a little more rough, I could feel ALL the weight of his body all over me and then some…I wrapped my legs around his waist pulling his pelvis in between my legs and feeling his bulge press against me as he starts to grind driving me crazy making me moan out loud. His hands move up to my hair and his lips move down to my neck, down my cleavage, placing wet kisses all over my chest. He sit up a bit to lift my shit off and down a bit to take my bottoms too, after he strips me off my clothes he stays at the edge of the bed just staring, and I start to feel shy and he notices.

Lou: You´re perfect

He leans down on me again kissing me painfully slow from my stomach up to my now very exposed breasts. You could se my hard nipples through the lace of the bra, and he is just over them basically breathing on them, he places his mouth over my nipple and starts playing with it over the fabric making me feel electricity. I tilt my head back to the bed and just enjoy the moment, but then he starts softly biting on my nub making me moan and squirm of pleasure. I put my hand on the back of his head to pull him closer to me at the same time he bites a little bit harder making me pull a fistful of his hair, which he moans to the motion. At this point I’m kind surprised because this boy lowkey kinky, and I live for it.

He leads the kisses downtown and continues kissing me over the wet fabric of the underwear, he runs his hands along my legs until he reaches the sides of my panties to pull them down. Instinctively I try to close my legs on his face, but he stops them by putting his palms on both my knees and spreading them wide open.

Lou: Oh my god, you´re perfect, you´re so wet

He starts sliding his hands through the outside of my thighs as he starts going down on me, slowly licking, and caressing my pussy. Giving kitten lick on my clit making me whimper, slowly making his lick bigger and bigger on my clit warming me up for the main event.

Y/N: Oh my god Lou!

I start moaning and arching my back as he is sucking at my clit like as if it was a tiny cherry flavored lollipop. My moaning just encouraged him more to keep going because he wasn’t stopping anytime soon. He grabs me by the hips and pulls me closer to his face to the point my legs are at his back and his mouth is at my entrance inserting his tongue in and out scooping my juices out for him as I’m curving my back in ecstasy. I’m moaning to loud at this point, I have to cover my mouth, but I feel a hand from underneath uncovering my hand from my mouth.

Lou: Don´t stop, I love hearing you scream for me

He picks up the pace and its getting me closer, I’m a moaning mess, my body was reacting by its own, I wasn’t in control any more, was I ever in control with Lou? I start to feel my stomach knot up, you feel yourself getting tighter and tighter, your legs start to shake and close on Lou´s face, but he keeps them open with his arms as you cum on his mouth, drinking everything from you.

Lou: Oh my god, you taste delicious

Lou incorporated himself and started to take his clothes off right in front of me, I was already a breathless mess by just climaxing, now seeing him strip is another type of high. He starts to take off his shirt and you´re blown away just like the day you saw him for the first time, he was just perfection. Then he proceeds to take off his pants to release his hard cock from his boxers, he starts to stroke it as he looks at me, and I can see his jaw clench and his arm muscles tense and release with every stroke.

Lou: You like what you see?

He asks with a smirk on his face as I, apparently, was staring at IT all this time. I just couldn’t stop imagining how his size was just perfect to stretch me open and fill every bit of my insides.

Y/N: I love what I’m seeing…

I said trying to be smooth. He smirk again and starts to crawl over me again, looking straight into my eyes, he positions himself right over me but a few inches away, so I move my hips a little closer to have him right at my entrance. I started to open my mouth to say something, but he started to enter in me before I could say anything, what was I gonna say anyways? Who know? All I knew was that Lou was finally inside me, and without breaking eye contact he started thrusting in an out of me. I move my legs around his waist to give him more access, I want to feel all of him, with every thrust I can feel him stretching me open, and all of a sudden he stops and rests his head on my neck, I was confused and wanted to ask him to please keep moving, but I realized, he was already close, if I asked him to keep moving he was gonna cum and this was gonna be over very soon, so I just cupped him by his cheeks and started kissing him with all the love I have for him.

His breathing intensified as he is trying not to move, but just feeling his cock throb inside me made me quiver, and I cant stand it any longer, I just need him to move and fuck the shit out of me.

Y/N: Lou…please…move

Lou starts to move faster and faster each time, you can hear him moan in your ear, it’s like hearing an angel sing with a very deep voice, I want more of that, so I start pushing my hips at his compass with every thrust.

Y/N: Oh my god Lou, it feels amazing!

I cry out, with every thrust you feel a spark starting to form in the pit of your stomach.

Lou: You´re amazing baby, you feel so amazing, taking me all in, swallowing… me… all… in…

His thrust started to slow down, and I feel him getting harder and bigger inside of me as I start to get tighter around him. He buries his face in my neck again, occasionally biting and sucking at my soft skin, probably gonna have marks later.

Y/N: L…Lou…i´m gonna…

Lou: I know baby I know, you´re getting so tight, cum for me

I tried to warn him, but I feel myself snapping into a million pieces. He picks up the pace and starts circling his thumb around my clit, wrapping my arms around his neck, clinging onto him as hard as I can, I feel my core bursting making me moan like crazy as I’m seeing his name in starts.

Lou: FUUCK!

He moans as he comes with me, riding my orgasm like a wave. He stays inside me while I continue shaking, he moves some hair from my face and kisses me tiredly but passionately. He pulls out gently and you can feel the your juices combined pour out of you, he lays next to me and pulls me onto his chest, laying on top of him he wraps us in the blanket, hugging him I can get a scent of his cologne and his sweat, the perfect combination to make my endorphins act up.

Lou: Y/N, I love you

Y/N: I love you too

[lopithecusfanfiction]

You Need to Wake UP

Author: Lopithecus Pairing: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne Rating: General Word Count: 575 Alternate: AO3 Summary: Bruce hit his head during a fight with Darkseid which rendered him unconscious. Clark sits by his bedside while he heals. Warnings: N/A Author's Note: This is for day 5 of SuperBat Week 2020! @superbatweek​ Prompt:  Day 5 - Free Day… 20. “You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.” [X]

Clark sits down beside the bed, grabbing Bruce’s hand and holding it tightly. He looks over Bruce’s body, getting sick to his stomach by seeing all the bruises that are on his body. They had gone up against Darkseid and Bruce had gotten badly hurt. He’s been out cold ever since.

Clark looks up to J’onn, who is currently checking over Bruce. “J’onn, is he going to be okay?”

J’onn looks grim, frown set in place. “He’ll be fine, Superman. He just needs to rest so he can heal.”

“He hit his head pretty hard, J’onn,” Clark says, wiping a hand down his face. “He is going to wake up, right?”

J’onn stays quiet for several seconds, looking down at Bruce with glowing red eyes. When his eyes turn back to normal, he faces Clark again. “I’m confident he’ll wake up in a few hours.”

“You positive?”

J’onn nods once. “Yes.”

Clark lets himself relax a little. “Thank you, J’onn.” J’onn gives him a reassuring smile before exiting the room, leaving Clark and Bruce alone. Clark kisses Bruce’s knuckles, feeling tears well up in his eyes. “You need to wake up.” He sniffles. “You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.”

He doesn’t know what exactly he had been expecting but he can’t help but feel a little disappointed when Bruce doesn’t wake up after such a statement. Isn’t that how works in the movies? Sniffling again, Clark leans his elbows down on the mattress, holds Bruce’s hand up to his temple where Clark rests his head, and closes his eyes. He focuses on Bruce’s heartbeat, the rhythmic thump thump of it.

It takes three hours before Bruce starts stirring. Three hours of Clark worrying nonstop and continuously listening closely to Bruce’s heartbeat and breathing. He listens so closely that he ends up drowning everything else out and startled earlier when Diana had come to check up on him.

Now, when he hears the hitch in Bruce’s breathing, the first sign that Bruce is coming around, Clark springs upward, sitting up straighter in the chair. “Bruce?”

Bruce groans, eyes squeezing shut as if the other man is in pain. “Clark?” He moans again, shifting his body. “What happened?”

“Darkseid threw you,” Clark explains as Bruce opens his eyes and winces at the light. He has a concussion. “You hit your head and have been out for three hours.”

“Three hours?” Bruce reaches up with a shaky hand and drags it down his face. “That’s a long time.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve been keeping watch over you.”

Bruce chuckles, wincing again at the pain that no doubt shoots through his body. He’s got a couple broken ribs too. “Of course, you did.” Bruce sighs heavily, turning his head slowly to glance at Clark. “Darkseid?”

“Taken care of,” Clark reassures.

“And you?”

“Better now.” Clark smiles at Bruce, small and warm. “A lot better now.”

“Ugh, I feel like a sixteen wheeler ran me over.”

Clark laughs, kissing Bruce’s knuckles again. “You probably will for a while.”

Bruce smiles back, squeezing Clark’s hand. “Thank you for taking care of me. It… feels nice to have someone around here,” Bruce gestures around the Watchtower’s medbay, “who cares enough to.” His smile grows warm and caring. “I love you,” he whispers.

Clark huffs because his boyfriend is ridiculous to think that he wouldn’t care. Clark reaches over, strokes Bruce’s cheek. “I love you too, you idiot.”

—————————————————————————————————

A/N: Thank you for reading!

[rafivadafreddy]

I Wonder

A Rafael Barba and Amelia ‘Emma’ Herrera Story.

Summery: Amelia ‘Emma’ broke up with Rafael when he was 18 and she was just 16. He left for Harvard and Emma left for Italy two years later when she graduated. Fast-forward Fourteen years when Emma and Rafael run into each other again. Will there still be sparks between the two or have they both changed too much to be together again?

Word Count: 1,727

Chapter Two!

chapter one can be found here

Warnings: Uhm. Spanish? I honestly don’t think there are any warnings for this. Lol

To say that having Rafael back in her life was easy, that would be a lie. Probably one of the worst lies she would ever tell. It wasn’t easy having him suddenly calling her, texting her, even running into each other at that stupid little café where they first saw each other. Emma told herself that she needed to find a new café to stop at, but she could never bring herself to do so. Thanksgiving soon came and gone, Christmas was finally over and New Year’s was just another day where people drink too much, make resolutions they’ll never keep and get into fights or accidents.

The ER was packed, Emma had her hands full. Her kids were all okay up in the Pediatric ward, so she was down in the ER helping those who came in since it was such a busy night. By the time morning came and Emma found herself on her 10th cup of coffee. She was fighting off the need to close her eyes and take a nap. She had been waiting for her patients’ exams to come back. But as she leaned against the counter at the desk. She couldn’t help but close her eyes.

 “Amelia! Don’t you dare!” Emma saw Rafael scold her as she stood before him holding a water balloon in her hand. A small smile on her face, looking as innocent as possible.

“Dare what, Rafi?” she asked the man, a small pout on her lips. “You mean… this?” Emma giggled as she threw the balloon at her boyfriend and watched as it hit him in the chest and the balloon burst. Covering him in water, soaking his shirt. Before Emma knew it, she was running away from Rafael.

It was late one afternoon; middle of July and they had been dating for a month. Emma was nearing her 16th birthday and Rafael was 17. Things were so perfect between the two of them. So in love, Emma already knew her feelings for him. She just couldn’t bring herself to say those three little words just yet. It was too soon, she knew that.

 Jumping awake when someone called out for her. She looked around and blinked a few times. Quickly, Emma was back to work and before she knew it, she left the hospital to head home.

On her walk home, needing to clear her head. She looked around as she walked, passing by crowds of people who kept making the same damn joke. “Oh, its been a year since I’ve last seen you!” Ha-ha-ha. Not funny anymore. Maybe when you’re drunk, sure.

Shaking her head, Emma waited for the walk signal give her the okay to cross the street when she watched a young couple walking hand in hand. The boy twirling the young girl around, making her laugh.

 Amelia was giggling nonstop as she and Rafael walked out of the theater. “Rafael! It was good! Stop complaining.” She poked her boyfriend as she cuddled into his side. It was the first of December and the two had just watched Three Men and a Baby. A cute comedy, even though Rafi tried to act like he didn’t like it. She knew him, she had seen him laugh during the movie.

“I’m not complaining. I’m just saying, it wasn’t all that good.” He eyed Emma and held her close with his arm around her shoulders.

Snorting, she just let out a small, ‘mmhm’ instead of answering. As they passed stores playing Christmas music, Rafael stopped walking and Emma eyed him, “What’s wrong, mi vida?” she asked, only to giggle when he pulled her in close and started to sway to White Christmas together right there on the sidewalk. Ignoring those passing by the two, nothing else existed in that moment as they looked into each other’s eyes.

“I… I love you Rafael…” Emma whispered to him and grinned when he smiled, the two sharing a soft kiss as they stopped dancing.

“Well, I love you too Amelia Herrera.” He said as his lips still brushed against hers.

Cursing as she was pulled out of her memories, Emma looked up and quickly dashed across the street. “Stupid Rafael… messing up my life… again.” She mumbled and shook her head.

Entering the café as if on schedule, Emma stood in line and waited for her turn. Scarf off and gloves being shoved into her coat pocket. By the time she went to order, Emma got herself a hot chocolate. Not sure if she could take more coffee after the night she just had. Asking for a bagel with cream cheese as well. She waited for her order before finding a seat and starting to eat her breakfast.

 Under the covers, Emma didn’t want to move. She felt like crap. She should have known better than to walk home in the rain. But she loved the rain, so she did so anyways. Now here she was, stuck at home on the weekend sick. Fever, runny nose and a cough that felt like she was trying to cough up her lungs. She had called Rafael that morning and told him she had to cancel their plans to go into the city. Hanging up after a nasty coughing fit, she got back into bed and laid there. Her mother had left for work and so Emma was just in and out of sleep.

When she fully woke up to banging on the door, she pulled herself out of bed and wrapped her comforter around her shoulders and went to answer.” I’m coming Puto! Stop banging on the damn door!” she called out, her voice breaking halfway through her yell, making Emma roll her eyes and pulled the door open. Only to frown, seeing Rafael there.

“Puto? Really? I’m hurt.” He teased and held up two bags. “I brought Mami’s chicken soup, some bread and Gatorade so you can drink something other than water.” He stepped into the apartment.

Emma just felt her eyes fill up with tears. “I love you… but you’ll get sick if you stick around me.” She sniffled.

“I don’t care... let me take care of my girl.” Was all Rafael said and the two spent the whole weekend on the couch. Even singing to her in Spanish to get her to sleep peacefully.

A few days after Emma was better, she found herself at Rafael’s apartment, holding a Tupperware of soup, bread and Gatorade for him. Just like he had done for her.

 “Penny for your thoughts?” a voice startled her, and Emma jumped before looking up.

“Rafael! DO NOT sneak up on people like that!” she narrowed her eyes and sighed.

He just raised an eyebrow and looked around. “Amelia… I called your name two times.” He said, humor laced his voice as he watched her and sat down across from her and Emma just huffed.

“Yes well… still.” So she didn’t have a remark, but can you blame her? After the shift she had. She could be sleep deprived and out of comebacks. “Don’t you need to go to work?’ Emma changed to topic and sipped on her hot chocolate.

“Nope, I was stopping here for coffee before heading over to the Bronx to see mami.” He shrugged and Emma grinned.

“Well! Tell her I send my love and that I hope she got her Christmas card I sent.”

Rafael just frowned. “You send my mami a Christmas card?”

Emma simply shrugged her shoulders, “Mmhm, I do. Its addressed to the both of you. But you moved out and I never knew where you lived after so.”

It was quiet after that, both taking sips from their cups and Emma slowly eating her sandwich.

“You know, I never did understand why you broke up with me all those years ago.” Emma looked over at Rafael as he spoke. A pained expression on his face for about a split second. But Emma had caught it.

“It was for the best, Rafi.” She assured him and reached over to hold his hand softly. “You went to law school without any distractions. I know you were planning on not going because of me. I couldn’t let that happen. I lived my life as well… I lived in Italy for gods sake… that alone was amazing. We wouldn’t be where we are today if we stayed together all those years ago. We would have stayed together and end up hating each other.” She sighed and finished her food. Drowning the rest of her hot chocolate. Emma stood up.

“Happy New Year Rafi…” Emma said softly and placed a kiss to his cheek before pulling her coat, scarf and gloves back on. Only to walk to the door and walk back out into the cold weather of New York.

Shivering, she made way to her apartment building. The apartment she now lived alone in since her roommate left to live with her fiancé.

 Laying in bed together, naked under the sheets. Emma felt her face grow hot. It had been their first time and to her it had gone perfectly. Emma had gone to Rafael’s prom with him and he had gotten a room at a nice hotel. Her mother never cared where she was, and Rafael’s mother thought he would be staying over Eddies house. With her head on his chest, Emma closed her eyes happily. Listening to his heartbeat.

“Eu ti amo mi amor...” she heard before falling asleep in his arms.

The next day when they went home, Emma was going to take Rafael his suit jacket back since he let her use it. Stopping as she neared his bedroom door, Emma frowned.

“Rafael don’t be stupid! You got a full scholarship to Harvard! You gonna give that up for some girl? A girl like Amelia?” She heard the voice of Alex.

“I love her man; I just know she’s the one for me!” Rafael shot back, Emma biting down on her lip.

Stepping away from the door, she left the suit jacket over the couch and ran out of the apartment. Knowing what she had to do. She would not let Rafael throw his future away because of her.

 Wiping her eyes, Emma arrived home and took a quick shower before getting into bed. Looking at her messages with Rafael, she grimaced before falling asleep.

                                                                                                       Three

Tagging- @the-baby-bookworm​  Reblog and Heart! Chapter 3 will be up soon!

[coeurdastronaute]

Fear XI

All was quiet, finally. 

The day dawned, cold and bitter, indifferent to the inhabitants of the world and the ongoing battles. The mist rose up from the grass, hung in the air like a wool sweater, thick and stifling over the ground. The clouds were thicker, plump with impending rains and storms, heavy with the grief of the entire night. All of it seemed to weigh down the day so that even the thin grey dawn was darker than usual. It all played out like a black and white movie, heavy on the grey and dim around the edges, soft to the focus and cold despite the warmth below the lack of saturation. 

The smoke was still simmering, the rubble would be burning for a few days, filling the world with a haze that burned eyes. No one thought about much more than the present. There were few words and fewer movements. People were in a haze and stuck in a limbo of uncertainty, as one would expect after the earth came to an end, again. 

Stoic and unflinching, the shoulders on the body that sat on the steps slunk, heavy and tired from a few days without sleep and a few days of all out adrenaline that seemed to run out entirely. Elyza felt the ache in her muscles, the blood that dried on her brow, the dirt that covered her body. She survived a war and looked it. She wasn’t even sure how she got to be sitting right there, at that moment, just that there was nothing left to fight, and in the absence of a threat, she was devoid of want or will. 

The body didn’t have the energy to rise, even though she knew she must, eventually. Surely she couldn’t stay there forever, but she couldn’t think past the next breath. Off in the distance, people were cleaning up the rest of the dead while others were joining them. From time to time a groan of the dying interrupted the quiet, but nothing touched the silence. Beneath the murmur of activity, there was a distinct lack of voice, left solely to the grunts and movements of those left behind. 

The entire day played in a scrambled mess in her head, the weight of the losses settling firmly in her chest, lodging itself between her heart and her throat, cutting off the air and feeling. But steady thumping through the noise of the war was the names of those lost, and each repetition battered her soul until she was certain it was left in nothing but rubble. Eyes haunted, stared out at the square, at the remnants of the large, burned tree that crashed into a building, lost in the tumult of her own invasion. 

Clarke stared at her hands and despite her best effort couldn’t make them stop shaking. She tremored, disbelieving what even she found herself capable of doing to protect what she loved, leaving her with the question of what love could actually turn someone into. The blood and dirt hardened as it dried, leaving her hands caked in a mess, dead bile and what was someone’s pumping blood. Both had been viscous and dark, so dark, in fact, she wondered if now her skin was stained. 

She wanted a cigarette, but the thought of it almost made her sick. The last time she smoked she shot him, right between the eyes. She shot a lot of people. She killed a lot of people and she saw each one in double time. Her body had been a vessel, fulfilling her only goal of finding her people and eliminating the threat. 

Perhaps the most damning, perhaps what she felt most, just above the ache in her muscles and the tired in her bones, just outside of the things she had done and gladly would do again, rested the crushing numbness of those that she failed to save and those that she lost. Because now she had things to lose. 

That tasted bitter in her mouth and if it wasn’t so dry she’d have spit in an attempt to rid her body of it. Instead she elected to just live with her body now, given up to how it existed in this moment, never to heal again. 

She flinched as a hand moved to her shoulder, even though she knew who it was. It took a second for human contact to be something she could stomach. The past four years had been spent solely on planning, and now, Elyza realized she hadn’t planned on surviving. She was supposed to die at some point. She wasn’t supposed to feel these things. If she’d kept to the mission, to save the world, to kill those things, she’d have been okay. Instead, she fell in love, and it was as terrible as all the poets kept talking about. But it was what sustained her, she recognized, ashamed of herself and unworthy of it.  

Alycia moved, standing in front of her girlfriend. She knelt, taking the bloody hands in her own, rubbing them, then kissing, holding them to her cheeks. But Elyza didn’t see it, and she didn’t come back to her quickly. She stared at the ground and avoided as much as she could because she failed even the person who needed her most. 

Nothing stopped her though. Alycia watched her love, her savior, her favorite person who she’d been without for four months, and she couldn’t remember her ever looking so defeated despite a victory. A slowly forming knot of fear choked her now, that maybe she couldn’t save the only person who could save her this time. But failure was not an option. 

But Alycia hurt too, and all she needed was to feel something, like love, like warmth, like communal grief and anger and ineffectiveness. So she stood and slid into the lap, wrapping her arms around Elyza’s shoulders, smoothing the hair as best she could despite the grime, smoothing away the pain. 

Hesitating, somewhat stuttering and slow, strong arms circled around her, holding her in place, anchoring her, keeping her safe.

“I’m sorry,” Elyza whispered, her head bowing and shaking back and forth. She tightened her hold until she was certain it was untenable. But Alycia never moved. 

As the sun rose on another day, as the smoke and the haze wore off and the chill of the morning settled in the dew on the blades of grass and fence posts, as piles of rubble were cleaned up and defenses re-situated, as families were reunited and the dead were killed, the two sat on the front steps of the middle of the base and propped the other up. 

“I know of only a few absolutes in the world anymore,” Alycia explained softly. “The sun will rise every morning. The waves will always crash on the beach. And you. I will always love you and you will always come for me. I knew you would.” 

Elyza ducked her head even more as she hid under Alycia’s chin. Her shoulders shook slightly as she fought off tears and took deep, warbling breaths. 

“What do we do now?”

“We live.” 

XXXXXXXXXX

The gates didn’t stand a chance, attracting the largest horde of dead to them as they were marched and guided to the base with an onslaught of explosions. All at once, the night erupted into madness started by a single explosion and followed by a rain of fire. 

“What was that?” 

“Reinforcements,” Elyza smiled, blood still collecting in her mouth and spilling out over her lips. 

The radio crackled as the call came over that the front and side gates had been opened and a horde of dead was making their way in. The pops of gunfire in the distance went nonstop, and Elyza chuckled as she spit on the floor, overjoyed at each and every single walker she herded. She was Queen of the Damned and she was breaking down the doors to the city of the living, and they would win because there was not greater force alive, pun fully intended. 

“What did you do?” the commander sneered, teeth gritting tightly together as he looked at computer screens with live feeds of the disaster. 

“Knock knock?” 

He clenched his jaw and clicked a few more screens before everything went black, the lights flickering before going dark. Red emergency lights lit up the Command Center. 

“Knock knock?” Elyza tried again. 

“You are going to get innocent men and women killed!” 

A wrathful hand slapped across the side of her head, and she just laughed again when she got her sense. She shook some of the dizziness away as best she could. 

“You took innocent men and women and locked them up. Forced them into slavery. Terrorized the area,” she spit blood of the floor and strained against the restraints holding her hands behind her back. “You took the only thing that kept me alive.” 

“We keep people safe. We will keep this contained. You will be hung for your treason.” 

“I’m going to shoot you before I swing,” Elyza promised, meeting his eye. 

It might have been the lights. It might have been the day and the screams and the gunfire and the fact that this was the absolute worst attack he’d seen since he took over, but McKillen was finally, for the first time in a long time, taken aback by the absolute viciousness and coldness to those words. Leaning forward and kneeling in front of the girl tied to the chair, he smiled back at her and held her glare. 

“I’m going to kill you,” she whispered, leaning forward with a smile. 

“You are what this world is capable of turning people into,” he realized. “If law and order isn’t put in place.” 

“I’ll give you law and order. That’s what I named my right and left fist.” 

The commander stood, adjusting his uniform before turning to the other guards in the room. With a solid wind up, he crashed back down, knocking out the girl in the chair. 

“Watch her,” he ordered. “You, go gather up that group from the rigs. They can watch her hang and then join her.” 

The radio came to life again as another explosion rang out in the night and the commander stalked out without looking at the unconscious girl in the chair. 

XXXXXXXXX

“I can’t go back.” 

“We have to--”

“I. Can’t. Go. Back.” 

“Where--”

Elyza wheeled around on her heel and stared at her girlfriend, eyes full of rage and fear. She snapped her mouth shut as her nostrils flared with frustration. Her shoulders were locked, her body rigid with its movements. 

“They need us. We need a safe place to regroup. And I need--”

“I need you!” Elyza bit back. “I need you and to not be anywhere where people are looking at me for answers. That’s all I’ve done for the past year and I haven’t made any good ones.” 

“You saved me.” 

Alicia stood, hands crossing over her chest defiantly as the blue-eyed girl threw up her arms, the agitation too much to remain still. 

“And I didn’t save Travis. And I didn’t save Hugo. And I didn’t save Liz. And I didn’t save Tom. And I killed an actual fuckton of people. I now know how much a fuckton is, because that is how many people I shot in the fucking head!” 

She breathed in big angry gulps, her entire being crackling with exhaustion and guilt and complete and utter defeat. Alicia never looked away from her eyes and took only a hesitant step forward at first, waiting for the indication that she could approach the angry beast. 

“You saved us all,” she promised. 

In a movement, she held out her hand and let it rest on Elyza’s bicep, and let it move to her shoulder, to her cheek. Alicia nodded until Elyza relaxed somewhat. 

“You did all of that. You gave these people their home back, and you’re taking the rest of us back to our cabin.” 

She was quiet for a moment, debating it all. 

“I can’t go back,” Elyza shook her head. “Not yet. Not now.” 

“You have a home now. With me.” 

“Please.” 

Alicia set her shoulders before gathering her girlfriend in a tight hug. She held her close and felt arms gradually grip her back just as tightly. After a few breaths, she pulled away and held Elyza’s cheeks in her hands and smiled slightly. 

“I once told you I’d teach you to stay,” she whispered. “And I meant it.” 

“I don’t want to make a decision ever again.” 

“I can make them. I’ve been told I’m very bossy and rarely am I wrong.” 

“What if I’m bad? Like… a bad person?” 

“You make Aden learn history and math. You volunteer for hard runs. You overthrew an evil dictator. You are not a bad person.” 

“I can’t go back.” 

“I need you, and you need this.” 

“What if you’re wrong?” 

“I thought I just told you I’m never wrong.” 

Elyza closed her eyes and took a deep breath while Alicia pushed away a strand of hair, thoughtful and fearful of the power she held in her hands. 

“There’s a shower and a bed back at our building. We’ll probably clear out of here in a day or two. Why don’t we let them sort out the mess and we can start not making too many decisions?” 

“Okay.” 

“Okay.” 

“XXXXXXXXXX

The plan was not a plan, but rather a hope. Sheer brute force always seemed to get her through her day and kept her alive so far in the end of the world, so it was with sheer blind faith that she trusted it. Sometimes life needed a hammer. 

It was part of the plan to be captured, to be taken to the headquarters. It wasn’t particularly part of the plan to have her nose busted and her head walloped, but Elyza adapted as best she could. She smiled to herself, knowing how Alicia would scold her for letting her mouth get her into trouble. 

There wasn’t much work in getting captured. Elyza walked into the secret entrance someone from the Farm told her about, and she started a fire in the new development, the house frames going up like a tinderbox, causing alarms and panic. She fired the flare that was the signal for the rest of the group to unleash the dead on the gates with well placed explosions. 

The plan was not much of a plan so much as a scorched earth style onslaught. 

With multiple issues in every direction, it took even the most seasoned veteran commander a few moments to get his plans in order. He was someone who knew how to combat unexpected issues, which was why Elyza hoped chaos would prevail. The plan was not much of a plan so much as chaos. 

She escaped, naturally. She strangled a guard with the ropes that held her attached to the chair and she decided to add to the chaos after picking up a few weapons from the bodies she dropped. 

The base was large, and she had no idea where to start looking, but Elyza wasn’t going to let a little thing like that stop her from finding Alicia. That was all that mattered. 

Forces spilled through the streets, large trucks brimming with eager bodies in camouflage, locked and loaded. Led by a marginally memorized map she’d studied for hours, complied by those from the Farm, she ran down the block, past the bowling alley, past the post office, and toward the side of the square, away from the East Gate which was the main focus of their attack because it would force everyone north.  

“I’m going to find Alicia, save her again, never let her out of my sight, and kill that fuckwad,” Elyza murmured to herself as she marched down the middle of the street, looping toward the neighborhood. 

It became a mantra. The world was falling apart, the night illuminated in orange flames and flashes of gunfire. It was not lost on her what she did, however she could not care about anything other than completing her mission. 

The sea of people pushed past her as she navigated the town in search of any sign of her girlfriend. 

It was all a bit of commotion, the streets growing quieter as the crowds fell back to the relative safety, away from the fires and away from the dead. But in the middle of the park, posted high on a lamp post, straining to keep herself up and peer out at the crowd, Elyza saw her girlfriend for the first time in months and she was slapped, stuck still in one place. All of it led to this moment, and there she was. 

Her voice didn’t work though, for some reason. She gulped, the residual taste of blood still there. Instead, she finally manages to take a step forward through the crowd, and only then does she catch Alicia’s eyes. She sees the smile start to form and she holds her breath, aching to see it, just for a second. 

But before she does, Alicia is yanked from her sight, and Elyza finally moves, sprinting after her, her voice rining out with her name. 

XXXXXXXXXX

Dusk came quietly as the world settled the best it could. It was an exhausting thing to end and carry on as if nothing had happened, but that was what they had to do. The fires were out and the reunions were sweet and bitter, some making out better than ever, but all gaining a form of finality. 

It was a baffling thing, that the moment something ended was the exact instant something brand new began, despite no one knowing what that entirely was. 

“You’re the infamous one that caused all of this then.” 

Elyza grunted and continued to toss rocks into the bed of the truck, helping to clean up an entrance gate. It was hard labor but honest work. It hurt her body that was in no way healed, and it made her brain stop running through everything to find a way to fix it all. 

She wiped her forearm against her sweaty forehead and squinted toward the headlights. Her body was steaming in the cold. 

“It was actually a girl’s fault.” 

“Isn’t it always?” the voice asked, a smirk evident in each vowel.

“You’ll have to find another rock pile, I’m afraid. This one’s taken.” 

“I just wanted to look at the woman who killed my father.” 

Her step stuttered slightly before she tossed the large stone into the truck. She braced herself against the truck bed and clenched her jaw, her lungs wobbling with the effort. With her eyes adjusting and the stranger taking a step forward, she saw the tall woman appear, her auburn hair dull, her eyes not betraying her intentions. 

“You’ll have to be more specific,” Elyza shrugged. “I’ve killed a lot of fathers.” 

For some reason it earned a small smile as she walked back toward the pile of rocks and began to lift another one. 

“My name is Anya McKillen.” 

“That father.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Well, what do you want? To punch me? To hear how I did it? To curse me?” 

“No,” Anya shook her head. “I just wanted to see who did it.” 

“The most morbid curiosity I’ve ever heard of.” 

“He deserved it. I deserve it.” 

“I don’t know about deserving anymore,” Elyza sighed after heaving another bit of rubble. “Just that maybe some of us get off easier than others.” 

“You or him?”

“Well he’s not hear lifting fucking rocks, is he?” 

The two were in a stalemate, and Anya didn’t move after she crossed her arms against the chill in the air. Instead, she huffed out a cloud against the cold and debated what else she wanted from the killer. 

“I thought you were done after the last load.” 

Elyza paused her movements as she was about to bring the sledgehammer down on a large chunk of wall. It might have been the labor or it might have been Alicia’s voice, but a soft exhausting made itself known in her muscles. 

“I want to get this done. I need to finish something.” 

“There’s 3 tons of concrete wall out here.” 

“I made this mess.” 

“You don’t have to clean it up single-handedly,” Alicia scolded. 

“It’s better than being in there,” she muttered, nudging her chin toward the base where residual lights began to waft through the night depicting the people still alive. 

“Anya, how— what are you—?” Alicia stammered slightly as she found the other body. 

“She came to watch me serve out my penance,” Elyza shook her head before slamming the sledgehammer on the rock. 

“I just wanted to see who would do all of that,” Anya motioned toward the base and the giant hole in the twenty foot wall. “For little ol’ you.” 

“She certainly has always known how to make an entrance,” she agreed, surveying the gaping hole. “But you have to be nicer to my girlfriend.” 

“She killed my father.” 

“Who didn’t want to kill him?” 

Anya thought about it and it didn’t make her feel better. 

“All full. I better take this load,” Elyza grunted as she slammed the hatch. 

“Come to the house soon. I made dinner,” Alicia offered, rubbing her girlfriend’s shoulder and earning a kiss on her neck, softly and without thought. 

In a quick movement, she swung herself into the truck and left the two bodies standing there in the almost dark, eager to go far away from both conversations that were happening. 

“What did you say to her?” Alicia asked, turning back on her friend, more stern than she was before. 

“I don’t know why I came out here.” 

“I love you, An. I really truly do. You’re part of my family. But you don’t get to work out your feelings on Elyza.” 

“I wasn’t.” 

“You were. And she’ll let you. She will let you whip her, she’ll let you blame her, she’ll even let you be her friend despite hating being around most people.” 

“I don’t—”

“You don’t mess with her,  you don’t go near her,” Alicia warned, her eyes glaring with a new intensity. “You don’t take anything from her.” 

“Okay,” Anya nodded. 

XXXXXXXXXX

The tide of the battle turned outside. Elyza knew it was almost over because she saw the second flare go up in the sky signalling the complete take over. The rest of her people would stream through and finish the walkers. 

She chuckled to herself as she was pressed up against a wall, the commander’s forearm pressing against her throat, making it impossible to breathe. 

With a swift kick, Elyza put distance between herself and the leader as he huffed, regaining his feet quickly. 

“It’s over, man. Just let it be over,” she coughed. 

He swung on her, and the ensuing tussle was violent and angry, each taking their own frustrations out on the other. With a might swing of a desk lamp, Elyza heaved and tried to catch her breath, the military man on the floor with blood on his temple. Elyza bent under the weight of her own injuries, leaning on the desk and trying to stand. 

As McKillen struggled to sit up and wipe the blood out of his eyes, his vision disoriented, he still saw the boots walk a few steps before a hand reached down, picked up the gun on the floor, and cocked it, checking the chamber. 

“It’s done, asshole.” 

“I’m one of many,” he informed her. “You’re not safe.” 

The cool steel of the gun pressed against his forehead. 

“Elyza!”

Alicia followed, finally finding them. But Elyza didn’t look away. She couldn’t. 

“He allowed for the raping and pillaging of an entire coast. He destroyed my home. He got my people killed--”

“You got your people killed,” he sneered, shaking his head. 

“I let them make their own decisions. I saved them.”

“We’re the same.” 

“We’re nothing alike.” 

“You’re going to kill me.” 

“And I’m going to enjoy it,” she promised, jabbing the gun harder into his forehead as she grit her teeth.

[hilllsnholland]

Sunset

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader 

W.c: 1.3k 

Warnings: Hospitals? 

Summary: Tom needs something to take his mind off the surgery. 

A/N: This is my submission for @laureharrier and @tommyparkerr Post-Endgame Depression Writing Challenge! This is also the first thing I’ve written since I took my finals so I’m back to my usual shitposting and writing. Please enjoy. 

The room was cold. The whole god damn hospital was cold, but you didn’t want to complain. You were here for Tom, who was in a tremendous amount of pain that you would never wish on anybody. You looked over at him, he’s sat up straight with his fingers playing with the tubing into his arm. You jump up immediately and slap his hand away. 

“Stop messing with your IV,” You grab his hand and he looks at you with deep bags under his eyes. 

“You looked cold and tired. I was going to ask a nurse to grab you blankets,” 

His voice is small as he looks at you through half-lidded eyes. He’s exhausted too, the pain had kept him up for two nights straight. You had warned him about working so hard and pushing himself too much. Tom was so focused on finishing his movie and going on the press tour that he ignored the aching pain in his body until he collapsed in the middle of the airport. Appendicitis, treatable and most likely non-threatening, but it still scared you to death. 

“You have a call button for that. What’s up?” You take a seat on the foot of the hospital bed and looked to your boyfriend. 

Tom lays back into the pillows, huffing audibly in discomfort. He was a man of action and being confined to a bed for three days was torture on his mind. You wished to take him for a walk around the grounds, but he was seriously sick. The surgery would be performed later tonight and he needed to be well rested. 

“I’m scared,” He says while looking away sheepishly. “Like, what if something goes wrong?”

“Nothing will go wrong. The doctors here are the best and this is a routine procedure-“

“But I’ve seen enough Grey’s Anatomy to know it doesn’t always go okay.” 

You want to laugh but he looks serious. Tom was not afraid of anything. He would dive headfirst into shark-infested waters if it meant that he’d have a cool story to tell. You grip his hand tighter, kissing the knuckles that were slightly bruised from stunts. 

“I understand.” You tighten your other hand to the blankets on the bed. “You don’t know what will happen, but you have to put your trust in it. I’ll be here waiting for you though. Just think of that.” 

“You’re the only one keeping me at ease right now Y/N. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” 

There’s a moment of silence where the both of you relish in his words. The past year has been nonstop adventures, laughing, and falling in love with your best friend. Tom could brighten any day and he’d give anything to make you smile. It was your turn to return the favor. You had to soften his stress, and you had just the place to do it. 

“Wait right here.” 

Tom furrows his brows at you while you get up and cross the room to look outside the door. After three days of sitting and waiting for nurses, you had learned their schedule somewhat. They were making final rounds before shift changes and a devious smile grows on your face. 

“Do you trust me?” You ask proudly. 

“With my life,” 

Tom smiles as you swing out a wheelchair from the hallway. He doesn’t know your exact plan but he knows it will be something good. You help Tom out of bed and untangle the IV stand from the rest of the wires. Shift change would be such a rush they might not even notice he’s gone. You wait a moment until all the nurses seem to be out of view, either in other rooms or in the lounge, and you make your move. Pushing Tom into the nearest elevator and pushing the top floor button, he smiles knowing exactly where you’re taking him. 

“The roof huh?”

“Shut up or I’ll wheel you back down.” 

Smirks align on both of your faces. It was a special thing for the two of you, watching the sunset on top of the roof. That’s where he kissed you for the first time. It was his housewarming party, he invited you to watch the sun dip into the horizon, the sky turning hues of pink and purple, and his lips looked so kissable. Then when you told him you loved him. It was on the roof of a premiere afterparty. The sun fell behind the skyline and it wasn’t as pretty as the first one, but it felt like heaven to get those three words off your chest. 

“Will you get mad if I don’t propose to you on top of a roof?” Tom questions as the elevator doors open. 

“Not really, as long as you’re there I don’t mind,” He smiles and you push him to the roof door. “But you have to feed me though,” 

Tom rolls his eyes at you but he can’t go far. He’s bound to his wheelchair and the IV stuck in his arm. You maneuver him up the three steps and you’re finally on top of the hospital just in time for the sun to hit the edge of the earth. You push him towards the sight and the rays of sunlight make his pale skin shimmer. You hated to see him so sick, but the way his eyes came to life brought you the fiery sensation of clarity. He’d be alright. Tom always makes it out alright. 

“Remember this sunset when you go under,” You say against the skin of his ear. “Picture this moment and come back so we can relive it.” 

Tom smiles at your words, pulling your waist sharply so that you’re sitting on his lap. He pushes the hair from your eyes, kissing your nose softly. In this pure moment, you felt his heartbeat under your hand. His little crinkles by his eyes were emphasized by the setting sun, his eyes gleaming with sprinkles of golden flecks. He was beautiful. 

“I’ll always come back to you,” 

Tom has that look in his eye that you know too well. It’s the look that turns your world, the look that made you believe that he really loved you. His eyes are transfixed on yours, the corners of his lips perking up, and all he can do is lean forward. Your lips meet his and it feels like the hundred of kisses before. It’s soft and it gives you those butterflies that can not be replicated. In all your years on earth, there has never been a feeling like this. Nothing makes you feel the way Tom’s lips do in that moment. As you pull away the sun dips under the horizon and the fading warm tones turn slowly darker. 

“We missed it,” He laughs. 

“We’ll get more after your surgery,” 

You kiss the top of his head and untangle yourself from his arms and lap. Tom gives you a pout but you continue to wheel him back down to the elevator. Tom’s fingers played with his IV again, this time from nerves and not stir-craziness. You eased him by playing with the curls that laid wildly on his head, a relieved smile appeared on his face accompanied by tired eyes. 

You were able to maneuver yourself back to the room without getting caught by any nurses and helped Tom back into his bed. It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep. He looked like an angel. He was finally relaxed and his body melted into the slumber, finally he would get some rest and you could too. The pullout bed looked unsatisfying though so you opted for the small amount of room left in Tom’s bed. You only had a few hours left until Tom would be prepped for surgery so you joined him in the much-needed rest. Your head laid on his chest while you listened to his heartbeat. The rhythm lulled you to sleep while the vision of a beautiful sunset was tattooed into your mind. 

[petersmparker]

Congrats on 100 followers❤️ Would it be okay to do a Peter x Reader with these: G – “God, you really are a terrible liar.” L – “Let’s just pretend that this didn’t happen.” W – “Would you believe me if I said that I have feelings for you?”

Thanks Ciara!!! At first I wasn’t sure how to do all three but now it’s 1500 words 😂

Thank you for requesting (and for your patience)!! I hope you like it!

You and Peter have always been pretty touchy compared to most friends. To some that probably seems a bit weird, but to you it’s what comes naturally. You’ve always been compelled to show physical affection to others limitlessly, but there are few who you believe will respond comfortably to it. MJ is content to allow you to hold her hand, Betty thinks a hello kiss on the cheek is cute, Ned will respond to a hug with great enthusiasm. It’s nice to be able to show your friends that you love them in such simple, easy ways. 

Peter is the easiest of all to dole your affection out to. You learned early in your friendship that he’s responsive. He adapts easily to what’s around him. Any attempt at affection you ever gave to him was met with a willingness to add it to the itinerary. He’s just that kind of person- good at interacting with people in a way that suits them.

That was something you always appreciated that about him, even before you were close friends. A trait you loved before you began to realize that maybe you had started to view Peter as someone a bit more special than a friend.

To your great misfortune, that only made it hurt more when you noticed that Peter had been drifting away from you recently. He begins to let go of your hand quicker when you hold it. Starts to sit on the other end of the couch when he comes over to watch movies. Transitions into giving you awkward nods before you can even try to give him a hug to say hello. Stops asking you for adjust his collar for him when you tell him it’s messed up.

It feels like Peter’s gotten sick of you after several years of nothing but positive responses, and it hurts. You let him pull away, though. What other choice is there? You hate the idea of forcing your physical affection onto him when he no longer wants it, and you’d been worrying for a while now that with your steadily growing feelings that you were taking advantage of him, somehow by maintaining the old behaviors. Maybe this was just the world giving you an out before the concern could overwhelm you.

Peter receives the space that he clearly wants. You’re sad for a while, but know that it’s best if you learn to adjust to the new dynamic. It’s hard to have to remind yourself not to reach for his hand when you’re walking to the train or fix his hair when he comes out of gym class with it falling into his eyes, but you do it.

This continues for a month before it’s unexpectedly interrupted. It’s a friday night following a downright excessively crime-filled week. Peter had been out much later than usual four nights in a row. Today he ends up at your place just before midnight, exhausted and overwhelmed, and asks to copy your Spanish homework.

“I know how to do it,” he promises, pulling out his worksheets, “I honestly just don’t have the time or the capacity to do it right now.”

You don’t mind, even offer up your history assignment too, and his tired eyes brighten. He looks like a mess. It’s been a while since you’ve seen him so disheveled- dark circles, healing cuts, and messy hair all prominent to you in the lamplight while you watch him work. You’re tempted to reach over push the curls away from his forehead, but abstain.

“Oh, come on,” he groans when he goes to put his work back in his bag, “I forgot about physics.”

You aren’t in the same class and therefore can’t help him, but Peter sticks around until he’s finished the assignment anyway. He finishes about an hour and a half after he’d arrived, seeming even more exhausted than when he arrived. The three page physics assignment had truly done him in. He looks like he’s barely awake by the time his bag is packed. You’re quick to let him know that he’s free to stay the night, since tomorrow is a Saturday, but he waves away your offer.

“I’ll probably be fine,” he reasons, shouldering his bag as he enters the hall of your apartment building.

You aren’t prepared for him to lean in to kiss your cheek when he does, and by the look on his face when he pulls back, apparently neither was he. Like he’d done it without thinking in his sleep-deprived state. It’s something you used to do to him on occasion. One of the only things he hadn’t attempted to do back.

“Uh. Sorry,” he blurts, eyes wide, “I just-”

“It’s fine,” you quickly say, heat rising to your cheeks terrifyingly fast.

“Yeah. Let’s just pretend that this didn’t happen.” He suggests, “I’ll, uh, I’ll see you on monday.”

His words bring a bitter taste to your mouth, but you let him go. Pretend it didn’t happen? What the hell? After a month of him pushing you away he kisses you and wants to move on like it didn’t happen? It’s hard not to be a bit frustrated at all the conflicting messages he’s sending. Sure, he was tired, but it’s not like kissing you had been a habit for him. Not like it had been one for you. There’s no way that could have been just muscle memory.

You’re bothered and confused all weekend, Peter too occupied with his Spider-Man duties to see you. Monday comes with a newfound resolve to ask what exactly happened both friday and in the last month, and that’s exactly what you do when you meet him at the train station in the morning.

He’s looking a bit more well-rested, a bit cheerier, and when he turns to say hello you feel kind of bad about planning to throw a wrench in it all.

“Are we going to talk about friday?” You ask, giving him the opportunity to own up and diffuse at least some of your anger right off that bat by admitting that the kiss happened.

He reaches up to rub the back of his neck, looking apologetic. “Yeah,” he says.

Peter is an intelligent boy.

“I’m sorry,” he continues after a beat, “That shouldn’t have happened.”

“No, it shouldn’t have,” you agree, folding your arms, “Not after all this time I’ve been trying to teach myself how to be less affectionate with you. It’s not fair to me, Peter. And what is even up with that? Why did you suddenly decide to change?”

Maybe it’s not fair to put him on the spot, but you’ve been wondering nonstop for a month and you’re at the end of your rope. He looks ashamed when you’ve finished speaking, head dipped down to stare at his shoes. The sight of it brings you a bit of guilt, but you maintain your stance, trying hard not to crumble. You’d like an explanation.

“Would you believe me if I said I had feelings for you?”

The bitterness returns to your tongue as soon as the sentence leaves his mouth. Part of you wants to turn around and go home, rather than get on a train with Peter and spend the next thirty minutes pretending he didn’t use such an untrue excuse. Why would he want to pull away from you the way he did if that were true?

“God, you really are a terrible liar,” you state, shaking your head in disbelief, “If you got sick of me, just say so. It really sucks, but I’m a big girl. I can take it.”

Peter steps forward, eyebrows knitted together. “Y/N, what?” He sputters, “I’m not messing around!”

You’re unconvinced and hurt by his decision to persist. Against your wishes, your eyes start to burn and water. You wipe furiously at them when you say, “Cut it out, Peter-”

He surges forward, snatching your hand away from your face, and kisses you. Your eyes are blown wide in your surprise, frozen still where you stand. Peter’s hand is warm against your skin as he continues to hold it out of the way, and his lips are even warmer. Your face heats faster than metal in a fire. He pulls away after another month has passed by you, face resolute.

“Oh,” you yelp, and immediately feel your face get even hotter. How lame.

“Is that okay with you?” He asks, fingers loosening their hold on your hand, “If not, I’m sorry for that, too.”

You shake your head, a little too urgent. “No! No, that’s- that’s great. I’m happy.”

“Oh, thank god,” he laughs, upper body sagging in relief, “It occurred to me halfway through that you might have to slap me.”

It’s very difficult not to laugh at his response. He brings a hand to his face like he’s embarrassed when he adds, “I was just worried that if I kept being touchy while I had this big crush on you it would be creepy. It didn’t occur to me that you might like me back.“

You giggle along with him, bitterness melted out of you. All this time, he’d had the same concern. He’d just acted on it first. How ridiculous. 

From behind, your train screeches to a stop as it reaches the platform. Peter dips forward once more to peck you on the cheek. "Ready to go?” He asks.

“Yeah,” you sigh, feeling lighter than you have in a while, and take his hand. “Let’s go.”

permanent tag list

@undiadeestos @moonstruckholland

[artificialqueens]

No One Else But You (Branjie)- athena2

A/N: So there are about a million Branjie fics I want to write after the reunion, and this one came out first. I lowkey wrote this while bored at work. 

SPOILERS FOR REUNION.

Basically, Brock deals with the aftermath of the reunion. It’s extremely angsty, but I promise there’s a happy ending! 

***

It is a month before the reunion airs, and for the fourth straight night, Brock finds himself staring at the ceiling.

His total hours of sleep for the past three nights is a single-digit number, and he feels that number more each day. But he welcomes the exhaustion. When you can barely stay awake during the day, you can’t think of what an asshole you are. You can’t think of the Puerto Rican man you’re missing. You can’t think of how you threw away the best thing you ever had. The exhaustion overtakes any other feeling he could possibly have, numbs him to the world. And numb is what he needs right now.

He peeks over at the clock. 3:27. He sighs and turns on the TV. No way he’s getting back to sleep tonight. Not after what he’s done.

He had gone and fucked up the first, the best, relationship he had ever had. Because he just couldn’t commit. Because he needed his independence. Because he was just too scared. And in a month, they would have to spill it on television.

How’s your freedom and independence now, Brock?

It’s another sleepless night.

***

23 days before the reunion. He barely sleeps, barely eats. He exists on autopilot, dragging himself through the day mechanically. They’re still great friends, still comment on social media and tweet at each other. They even text almost every day and it could be enough. It should be enough, because that’s what Brock wanted. He wanted to be friends, didn’t want to be locked into a relationship. He wanted freedom. And he can convince himself that friends is enough. But when he ends each night in tears, regretting what he gave up and wanting it back, he knows it’s not enough. It never will be.

The world has lost its color. It just exists around him, and he just exists in it. Everything has become meaningless.

Friends. That’s what you wanted. You couldn’t be ready, couldn’t give up your freedom for someone that wonderful. If he wasn’t enough for you, do you think anyone else ever will be?

His beating heart is the only sign he’s even still alive.

Maybe it would be easier if he had no heart at all.

***

Two weeks before the reunion and his autopilot fails. He just can’t do it anymore. He stays awake until he collapses with exhaustion, shoves tasteless food down his throat only to throw it up hours later.

He’s curled up on the bathroom floor after throwing up yet again. His thumb hovers over the name. The name that meant everything to him, the name that allowed him to finally love someone. One push is all it would take. He puts the phone down and sobs.

He’s not sure how much longer he can do this.

***

One week later and he finally makes the call.

His heart pounds and his hands shake from the anxiety, the fear. He never thought he’d be the type to call an ex crying, but that’s exactly what he does. He cries and cries and José listens patiently. He begs for another chance, says he’s ready this time, he really is.

“I thought you needed to be free, Brock. That you just weren’t ready to commit,” José replies coolly, and Brock knows he deserves every amount of ice in José’s tone. They interact online and text frequently, but the fact is just hearing José’s voice is enough to break him.

“I was wrong. I really think I can this time. I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and I want to do this with you. I love you, boo. I always have,” he’s crying now, so hard he can barely get out the words. José is silent on the other end.

“I want to believe you. I really do. And I still have feelings for you, I can’t lie. But Brock, I can’t get hurt again. I just can’t. So you really need to think about this and talk to me when you’re feeling better. Just know what you want and tell me when you know it. I have to be sure about you, Brock, and you calling me like this isn’t helping. I’m sorry.”

“José, wait-”

“I gotta go. See you at the reunion”

Brock thinks he hears a sob on the other end before the line goes dead. His mind is reeling. All he’s been doing the past few months is thinking. Thinking about how he messed up, how wrong he was, how much he wants José again. But he needs to do more. He needs to show José he’s real.

But how?

He feels sick.

He kneels in front of the toilet, wishing he could throw it all up. Not just food, but everything. His regret, his fear, his anxiety, fuck, he’ll even throw up his heart while he’s at it.

But nothing comes up. He hasn’t eaten in three days.

He’s empty.

***

The day after the reunion he reaches his breaking point. One day. One day since they told the world they were done, since he confessed his issues on television and acted like it wasn’t killing him. He thought he was over it all, thought he had moved on and was happy with being friends. But the reunion slashed right through the stitches and tore the wound back open, worse now than it was months ago. All this has proven is that he’s not over it. He’s not happy with just friends.

He’s on 2 hours of sleep from the previous night. He wants to explode. His entire body is tense and exhausted. His head is pounding. His hands shake uncontrollably.

He looks at his trembling hands with disgust and begins punching anything he can. The wall, the floors, the sink. Pain explodes in his hand, blood dripping all over the bathroom. His knuckles are instantly bruised deep purple.

He relishes the pain. He earns the blood, the bruising, the swelling, each sensation tearing through his mental anguish and replacing it with physical pain.

He lets the blood flow.

***

It is five days after the reunion when he knows he has to act.

He thinks on José’s words and knows he must show the younger man that he really can do this. He knows what he has to do, and spends the day getting ready for it.

He knows where José is staying for a show, and this could be his last chance. He cleans himself up the best he can, but he can’t hide his exhaustion or the weight he’s lost. He shaves, fixes his hair, puts on clean clothes, forces himself to eat something and fights to keep it down.

Three hours later, he’s at the hotel. Brock shifts the bag to his bad hand and knocks with his good one. A bewildered José opens the door seconds later, expression unreadable. The mask cracks into concern when he gets a good look at Brock.

“What the fuck happened to you? You like like shit,” José says, and even in Brock’s foggy mind, he registers that José sounds really worried. He takes the bag and leads him into the hotel room. Brock gets a proper look at himself in the mirror, considering how he must really look to someone who hasn’t seen him.

A thin frame suffering from weight loss that he didn’t need. A deathly pale and sick-looking face, with deep purple bags under his eyes. Knuckles still a little swollen, littered with scabbed-over cuts, and bruised a dark blue. And then there’s the things that no one can see. The fact that he has to stand up slowly because doing it too fast makes him dizzy. The way his vision just blurs throughout the day. How hard it is for him to focus on anything other than José and his own mistakes. How he can’t keep down much besides water and toast, but can’t bring himself to eat anything else either.  

“Sit down,” José orders. “You look like you’re about to drop dead.” There is concern in his eyes and he sees that Brock is sitting in a chair before he allows himself to sit.

“I- I just want to talk,” Brock starts.

“So talk,” José answers. He’s not exactly kind, but he’s not overly harsh either, and Brock takes some hope. Maybe he has a chance.

“I messed up.”

“Hell yeah you did.”

“I-I’m so sorry. I don’t think I can ever really apologize for what I did to you. I was scared. I’d never been with anyone before and I was scared and I just wasn’t ready to commit. I didn’t want to hurt you. Somewhere in my mind I thought that it was better, fairer, I guess, to let you go if I didn’t think I could give you what you deserve,” he explains.

He pauses, taking a deep breath, ignoring the butterflies in his stomach. “And you deserve so much. You deserve everything you’ve ever wanted. And I want to tell you that I’ve been thinking about you and our relationship nonstop. And I’m ready to give you everything. I know I wanted to be free, but this past month I’ve realized that freedom doesn’t mean a thing if I don’t have you. And there is no one else I would rather have than you. Baby, it’s you. It’s always been you, and no one else but you. So if you could somehow forgive me for being a giant asshole, I’m ready to commit to you. I’m ready to be yours and yours alone. I’m ready to give you romance. I’m ready to watch cheesy movies with you. To spend all day in bed with you and do nothing. To have breakfast and dance and kiss and all of it. I-I want it, José. I want it. I love you,” Brock finishes, not noticing the tears rolling down his cheeks until now.

José still sits in the chair, tears in his eyes, but not saying anything. Brock stands up and reaches for the bag José had set on the bed. The butterflies in his stomach are waging war with each other and he almost loses his nerve.

He digs through the bag and takes out the tiny notebook with the brown leather cover. He hands it to José, who stares at it, confused.

“You said you wanted a notebook,” Brock offers as explanation, and motions for José to open it. Inside, Brock had written down every single thing he loved about José.

Your laugh. The way you make me feel calm and safe. How kind you are. How funny you are. How you can read anyone for filth. Your passion for life. The way you make me laugh.

On and on it went. Brock watches as José’s mouth drops open and he begins to cry harder as he flips through the pages.

“Brock,” José breathes. “This is…this…” he gets up from the chair and crashes into Brock, burying his face in the taller man’s chest. Brock just holds him, soaking up the feeling of José in his arms, a feeling he had desperately missed.

“I love you,” Brock whispers. José finally removes himself from the hug. He steps back and looks up into Brock’s eyes.

“You really want to do this?” José asks.

“Absolutely.”

“Me too. I love you,” José declares, grabbing Brock and pulling him down for a kiss.

It is exactly the rom-com ending they deserved.

[highfivecalum]

The Bet {CH} 13

CALUM COULDN’T stop thinking about you. He tried to come up with a plan to win you back, let you know that his feelings are real, but he couldn’t think of anything. He had barely slept because every time he closed his eyes he saw the image of you crying because of what he did to you. The fact that he was the reason for your pain and heartbreak made him feel sick. He didn’t plan on falling for you and breaking your heart, but nothing in his life seemed to work out in his favor.

Ashton and Luke tried to help him think of something that would win you back, but he refused their help because he was still pissed at them. He didn’t necessarily have a reason to be pissed at them, per say, because he went through with the bet, but he hated that Ashton even suggested it in the first place. All three of them were to blame, not just Ashton and Luke, and Calum knew that. He didn’t have to sleep with you, but he wanted to, just to prove to Ashton that he wasn’t as sensitive as he thought he was. And maybe, just maybe, to have bragging rights.

Calum looked for you on campus after his class ended since he knew the building your class was in was right next to his, but instead of finding you, he found Peyton, and he thought she was his next best bet. She was your best friend after all, so maybe she be willing to help him out. Peyton didn’t see Calum, too busy typing away on her phone to notice anybody around her, so when she heard Calum yelling her name, she was unpleasantly surprised. She wasn’t too fond of him after what he did to you. “What do you want, Calum?”

“I want to talk to you.” He exhaled a breath. He wanted to talk to you directly, of course, but he knew that you were avoiding him, with good reason, so he was lucky he even ran into Peyton. He would talk to Michael, but he was afraid that he, too, hated him.

“About?” She cocked an eyebrow.

“What do you think?” Calum scoffed. There was really no other reason he would talk to her if it wasn’t about you. Peyton rolled her eyes and locked her phone before motioning for him to talk. She had plans to meet you at the diner just a few minutes away and she didn’t want to be late. “I really need to talk to Y/N. Has she-” Calum sighed. He sounded desperate, but he didn’t care, all he cared about was you, really. “Has she said anything about me?”

“I mean, not really.” Peyton sighed. “You really hurt her, Calum, and honestly, I think she’s embarrassed about what happened. She doesn’t like to talk about it.”

“I know I did. But I really, really like her, Peyton and she doesn’t believe me.”

“Do you really expect her to? You used her for a bet.” Peyton reminded Calum as if he had forgotten, but he didn’t forget, he could never forget what he did to you.

“But it wasn’t just a bet for me. I-I miss her and I want to be with her, and I really hope she still wants to be with me, because she’s, like, the greatest girl I’ve ever met, but I don’t-”

Peyton frowned at how sad Calum looked as he rambled on about you to her. Sure, she was still pissed at him, and she wasn’t going to forgive him so easily, but she knew that you still liked him a lot, and she wanted to see you happy. And if that meant helping Calum win you back, so be it. Peyton really did think that Calum’s feelings for you were real and his intentions were good. So, she decided to put her mild hatred for him aside, and help the poor guy out.

She didn’t want to, but seeing Calum so distraught over losing you, she thought she would be nice to him and help him win you back, She wanted to tell him to fuck off, but she didn’t have it in her. “I’ll help you.”

Calum stopped talking and looked at Peyton with wide eyes. He wasn’t expecting her to help, he just wanted her to know that his feelings for you were real. And Peyton believed him. He was relieved, but he knew that winning you back wasn’t going to be easy, but Calum would try whatever it took to be with you. “Wait, seriously? You’ll really help me?”

“Yes, seriously.” Peyton rolled her eyes again. “Give me your phone number.”

Peyton and Calum exchanged phone numbers and she told him that she would text him later when she wasn’t with you, and help him think of a plan to win you back. You, of course, couldn’t know about it, so Peyton knew she had to be sneaky.

You were already at the diner when Peyton arrived. She apologized for being late as she slipped into the chair across from you. You just shrugged and told her it was no big deal since you had no plans for the rest of the day. You made mindless conversation and as you talked to Peyton, she would constantly be on her phone, which annoyed you but you didn’t say anything, until she was completely ignoring you.

“Who are you texting so much?”

“What?” Her head snapped up and she furrowed her eyebrows.

“I asked who you’re texting so much.”

“Oh. Uh- just Michael.” Peyton send one more text before locking her phone and setting it on the table. She excused herself to go to the bathroom and while she was gone her phone rang nonstop on the table top. You got annoyed, so you picked it up to silence it, and furrowed your eyebrows when you saw the notifications on her phone. She had five texts from Calum and you were more than confused. She didn’t have the text previews on, so you didn’t know what they were talking about, but you, of course, jumped to conclusions.

Peyton returned to the bathroom with a smile on her face, but frowned when she saw your face, and her phone in your hand. “Why are you texting Calum? And why did you lie about it and say it was Michael?” Peyton wasn’t sure what to say. She didn’t want to tell you that the two of them were trying to conjure up a plan for Calum to win you back because she didn’t want to ruin the surprise, but she didn’t want you getting the wrong impression. She was in between a rock and a hard place, as Michael would say. “Peyton?”

“I, uh-- I can’t tell you that.”

“You can’t tell me?” You exhaled a bitter laugh. “And why not?”

“I just- I promised him I wouldn’t.”

“Oh, so you’re making promises with him now?” You cocked an eyebrow. Peyton was your best friend, the two of you told each other everything, but suddenly she can’t tell you this? It didn’t make sense to you and to be quite honest, it kind of worried you. Peyton sighed. She wanted to explain herself, but she couldn’t. “Okay, then.” You mumbled and stood up and slung your bag over your shoulder. You didn’t want to be around your best friend if she was going to lie to you and keep secrets from you and text the guy who hurt you the most behind your back. Who would want to?

“Wait! Where are you going?” Peyton’s eyes were wide.

“Home.” You hadn’t even gotten the chance to order food yet, and even though you were starving, you didn’t want to hang out with Peyton anymore, since she was keeping stuff from you that involved Calum, who she claimed she hated now.

“Please don’t be mad at me, Y/N/N. It’s not what you think.” Peyton pleaded. You wanted to believe her, but you weren’t sure if you should. She was being sketchy and you couldn’t even begin to guess what the hell she was up to. “We were supposed to have lunch and hang out. You can’t just leave.”

“Why don’t you text Calum? Or better yet, call him, I’m sure he would love to hang out with you.”

You knew it was a low blow to leave Peyton at the diner by herself and you knew you might have been being a bit unreasonable, but you were upset that Peyton was texting Calum so much and not telling you why. You didn’t think they were hooking up behind you back or anything, because you knew Peyton would never do that to you, so you were only left to wonder why the hell they were talking.

You didn’t want to be alone, and you didn’t want to hang out with Peyton, so you opted for texting Michael and inviting him over. He texted you right as you unlocked your door, telling you he would be over soon, so you quickly changed out of your jeans and into a pair of leggings, and waited for him to arrive. You and Michael hadn’t spent time together just the two of you, so it was nice to hang out with just him for a change.

Your door opened and in walked Michael. “Hey.” He sighed and plopped down on the couch next to you. “You okay?”

“I don’t know.” It was your turn to sigh. Michael urged you to continue. “Peyton met me at the diner earlier and she was on the phone the whole time, so I asked who she was texting so much, and she said you, right? And she went to the bathroom and her phone kept blowing up, so I went to turn it on vibrate, and saw that all of the texts were from Calum.”

“What?” Michael’s voice raised. “Calum? Are you fucking serious?” You nodded your head sadly. “You don’t think they’re, like, hooking up. Do you? Because, I know it’s kind of shitty for her to be talking to him behind your back, but I really don’t think she would do something like that to you.”

“No, no, nothing like that. I know Peyton would never do that to me, but she wouldn’t tell me why she was talking to him.”

Michael tried to think of any possible reason Peyton would have for talking to Calum and not telling you about it, but all of the possibilities had bad outcomes. He was pissed at Peyton just as much as you were, since she was going behind your back and lying to you and Michael tried to comfort you. You thought you might have been overreacting just a little bit, but the wound from Calum was still fresh, and Peyton was your best friend and the thought of them talking to each other made your stomach twist and turn.

You and Michael stayed in that night, watching sappy love movies, cuddled up on your couch, and ignoring Peyton’s text messages. You knew you wouldn’t last long without talking to her, since the two of you have talked every single day since middle school, but you just needed some time to be upset with her and Peyton knew that.

Your own phone vibrated after a while of laying on the couch with Michael and you rolled your eyes to see it was from Calum. You didn’t bother opening it, deciding that you didn’t want to be bothered by him, and enjoy the time with Michael. You wanted so badly to text him back, forgive him and be with him, and your phone burning a hole in the pocket of your sweatshirt wasn’t helping you out one bit, but you couldn’t give in that easily. No matter how badly you wanted to.

❀❀❀

Taglist: @babylonshood @mysticalhood @friendly-neighborhood-michelle @peyton5sauce @honeycombcal @my-world97 @lukesflaredpants@backstreetbarakat @tothemoonwithclifford @grreatgooglymoogly@therainydays4 @lukespenguin-97 @lifeakaharry @akacalciumhood @ashtxns-hxe @rexorangecouny @fivewachinessos @visioninwords @pancahke@monster-among-michael @calumhoodslays @wantirwinback @qualitylu@sumlariss @calumsbabydolll @juliabrghs @shawnsbooties @whosash@insecuritieeseatmealive @ashtonwahs @hopelessxcynic @werealrighthough@trinitychico @ghostofhood @comingcalum @calistajs @sleepysavya@cliffordcntrl @qualitylu @thefecesofearth @cliffordcntrl @ghstofcalum

[halfofwhatisayismeaningless]

Terrible Things (Mayday Parade) // Joe Mazzello angst/sad. Song request.

.You know you can request any song with any celebritie crush or just a simple request. SEND THEM TO MY ASK BOX. My tag list is also open. The spanish version is after the english one

I must say, this was really hard to write, I didn’t know how to end up the story, but I liked the result.

Requested: anon. hey there!! i was wondering if you can write a joe mazzello imagine based on terrible things by mayday parade? i’m craving for angst yet kinda fluffy™️ joe right now hehe thank you in advance love<3  

Summary: The (Y/LN)-Mazzello have to fight against a horrible illness.

Words: 2.218.

Warnings: Cancer, and everything that has to do with it.

Another month in that same chair of the hospital. I look around, there are faces that we know, other ones are new, and some, sadly, are gone. But all the faces are sad, what do you expect from the oncology floor of a hospital? This zone is special, the majority of the man, we come accompanied by a woman who are watching his life fall down. I look to my wonderful wife, (Y/N), with her kerchief on the head. Everytime we are here I try to remember when this horrible trip started, when the cancer made a very big place for itself in our lives.

It was a night of november, we were finishing filming, I came home to (Y/N) by herself.

"Where is Joey?"

"I drop him off at my parents house, we need a night by our own." I smiled at her, innocent, expecting a romantic dinner and a nonstop sex night. But that night my life changed completely. "Sit in the couch, I have to show you one thing" she said that very serious. I sat by her side and she took my hands between hers. "Two weeks ago I felt a breast lump, I didn't thought it was something, but I went to the gynecologist just in case. I didn't told you anything so you didn't get worried." I nodded, surprised because she hadn't tell me.

"And when will they give you the results?" I asked, innocently.

"They gave them to me today, Joe. I have breast cancer, stage 2."

Everything stopped, my breath, my heart. The only thing I heard was the wall clock doing "tick-tack", like wanting to say that our time was running. I felt my wife's eyes get wet, I felt my eyes get wet, I touch her ring, in her ring finger. Everything started again, tha pain my father lived for months, now in my wife.

"Sweetie..." I whispered. The tears were running down our cheeks. (Y/N) fell on me with a hug. We shivered together, we cried together, God knows how long. Suddenly we were in our king sized bed, (Y/N) on my chest, making a puddle of tears on my t-shirt. I kissed her forehead, and tried to say something at last. "You will get out of it, and I'll help you. You're a warrior."

"I just want you to know that I love you, you and Joey."

"We know that, my love." We kept crying, I didn't want to imagine life without her. It was too early for that, our son was four years old, we had been married for only six years. I remember taking her hand, her delicate hand, with those nails, always painted with red. I had done that action so many times: the first time we kissed, that night at the cinema; in our wedding; when she was giving birth to Joey. And I was taking her hand while the disease that killed my father, was killing her. "What now?"

"The tumor didn't metastasized, that's good. But it's too big to treat it with only chemotherapy. Firstly they'll give me some chemotherapy sessions to reduce it, they'll operate and then we'll see." (Y/N) looked at my eyes, "I will start in two weeks." I nodded, for then we would have already wrapped so I could be with her as long as she needed. "I'm scared, Joe."

I told her that everything would be fine, but I was scared to death.

Two weeks after that we were together in a hospital room, watching a movie while they injected her the first doses of chemotherapy. We were scared, because we didn't knew how bad would that be on her body, probably really damn bad. And it was really damn bad, the first hours weren't that bad, but she threw up for the first time that night. At the third day she didn't had any force to stand up so she just threw up without warning me. The fifth day started the "clarity", (Y/N) started eating. But she also started to go off the dizziness brought about the fever, so she started realising the situation.

"I wanna see Joey."

"I know, honey, but he can bring here germs from the school and you could get sicker."

(Y/N) just nodded, some tears run off her eyes, but she said she was okay, she didn't want me to get worried.

One of the biggest problems came after the second cycle of chemotherapy, her hair started to fell off. A man losing his hair is tough, but a woman losing hers is terrible. The first time we met (Y/N) had this long brown hair, it was like that until now. When she realised what was going she decided to shaved it. I helped her. I remember her looking herself in the mirror while we did it, the tears didn't stop falling without any noise.

Even so, there were happy moments, when the week session ended, (Y/N) and Joey would meet again, my heart raced the day Joey arrived home after (Y/N) had shaved her head, but he loved it.

"Mommy, you're like the one from Dr. Strange."

"Yes, sweetheart, do you like it?" the kid looked to her mother smiling and whispering "cool".

But when I had to take him to his grandparents house before the chemotherapy it was horrible. Joey always asked about his mother.

"Mom is going to be okay, right, daddy?"

"Of course she will, champ."

"But Scott said the other day that his aunt died of mom's sickness."

"Don't worry, your mother it's a fighter and she is going to get well. I promise."

When I came back to the car, half an hour later, I started to listen to (Y/N)'s playlist, a song I haven't heard before started. I couldn't take off that song of my head for months. "Terrible Things" by Mayday Parade.

By the time I was your age I'd give anything to fall in love truly

was all I could think

that's when I met your mother

the girl of my dreams

the most beautiful woman that I'd ever seen.

She said boy can I tell you a wonderful thing?

"I can't help but notice you staring at me

I know I shouldn't say this, but I really believe

I can tell by your eyes that you're in love with me."

Now son, I'm only telling you this because life can do terrible things.

I didn't wanted to keep listening to it, I know where that story was leading, even though, I couldn't stop listening to it. That song wasn't in that playlist before, (Y/N) had put it there some days before.

Now most of the time we'd have too much to drink

and we'd laugh at the stars and we'd share everything.

Too young to notice and too dumb to care

love was a story that couldn't compare.

I said girl can I tell you a wonderful thing?

"I made you a present with paper and string

open with care now, I'm asking you please

you know that I love you

will you marry me?"

Suddenly, and for the first time since my wife told me she had cancer, I cried like a kid, lonely, driving back home, listening to the story I hoped not live.

Now son I'm only telling you this because life can do terrible things

you'll learn one day, and I hope and I pray that God shows you differently.

She said boy can I tell you a terrible thing?

"It seems that I'm sick and I've only got weeks.

Please don't be sad now, I really believe

you were the greatest thing that ever happened to me."

I parked in front of the house we bought seven years ago and just listened, I didn't want to think that (Y/N) had listened this song in those months, but she had, it wouldn't be there otherwise. I felt three knocks on the window and saw my wike, hairless, making a sign for me to open the door.

"Honey, what happens?" she said worried when I opened the door. I pointed the radio of the car, where the last verse was playing, without saying anything, because of the sobbing.

Slow, so slow, I fell to the ground on my knees.

So don't fall in love there's just too much to lose

if you're given the choice, I'm begging you choose to walk away, walk away

don't let it get you, I can't bare to see the same happen to you.

Now son, I'm only telling you this, because life can do terrible things.

"Sweetie..." she gave me her hand, helping me to get out, we hugged in the middle of the yard. "I'm sorry, I didn't remember that my Spotify is connected to your car radio."

"Why do you listen to that song?"  I took her cheeks with my hands, crying.

"Because I have to prepare ourselves for everything, Joe. A lot of people die of this and I want to have things that remind me that I have to live to the limit for the time that is left, it doesn't matter if it's a year or forty. This encourage me to fight."

"Then, anything that helps you to fight, it's fine for me."

"I love you"

"I love you more."

"That is not possible, Joey."

Six months went by, chemotherapy cycles continued. (Y/N) was feeling dejected, but she knew that the treatment was like that, and she was encouraged to continue with it. In the seventh month they operated her, it was a simple and short operation, but I was really scared. The postoperative went fine, the bad part was going home, the day that (Y/N) took off the bandage and saw for the first time her operated breast. A long line traveled from where there used to be a nipple to her armpit. She cried in front of the mirror much more time than when she shaved her head.

"I'm so ugly." I had never heard (Y/N) say something so serious.

"Sweetheart, you are not."

"For god's sake, Joe, look at me. I've no hair, I only have one boob. I'm not a woman anymore, I'm a disease that fucked up this last year to you and to Joey."

"(Y/N), I don't want to listen that from you ever, not even as a joke." I made her turn around and look at my eyes. "Look at me, you are the most beautiful, precious, pretty, nice person I've ever met, inside and outside. Obviously this last year wasn't wonderful, it sucked, but it didn't suck because of you. And it doesn't matter that it sucked because we have stick together, we have seen our son grow old, we have seen ourselves grow. And Joey loves you, do you know what he told me the other day when we went out of the hospital?" (Y/N) denied with her head. "That you are his favourite superhero."

(Y/N) started crying again, but of emotion, she whispered: "I love you both". She turned around, facing the mirror. "But you've to admit that I'm not as sexy as I was before."

I approached her, I hugged her from behind and I whispered. "Love, if you only knew how much you turn me on... all your doubts would be over. Let's go to bed and I'll show you."

The operation was fine, but not as successful as we hoped. So they kept giving her chemotherapy.

And here we are now, a year and a half after that night when everything started, we were about to go inside the doctor's office, to do the same, they told us the tumor was still there, the chemotherapy was doing her job, but it was slow. Last night, when we were in bed, reading each one a book, she stared at me, stroked my face and thank me.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because when it's three in the morning, I wake up from a nightmare, I think I'm not gonna make it, I'm not going to escape from cancer, that it will have me like this forever, When I want to stop fighting. I just have to turn around, move a little to wake you up, and the first thing you do is smile, that's when I remember why I have to keep fighting. And thank you for taking care of Joey so long and so good. I wouldn't have gotten here if it wasn't for the two of you." I felt my eyes fill up with tears. I answered that we wouldn't live without her, her smile and her fightness.

I observe her for a while while she reads the newspaper on her phone. We had been repeating this doctor appointment for six months, expecting them to say that everything was over that there was no sign of disease in (Y/N)'s breast. And even though we didn't verbalised it we were each time less hopeful and we saw it every time further away.

"(Y/N) (Y/LN)-Mazzello." the nurse says. We go into the doctor's office.

"Good morning (Y/N), good morning Joe." We shake her hand to the doctor that had attended us from the first moment. "Let's see." She takes some informs and scans from the packet that we always had with us. The doctor smiles. "(Y/N), you don't have cancer anymore."

I look to my beautiful wife and whisper "Sweetie.." just as I did when she told me about her illness. Our eyes fill up with tears, and suddenly, we are on each other arms. I won't have to show Joey that horrible song by Mayday Parade. If we show it to him, it would be together, so he knows the terrible things that happen in life.

tag list: @almurg

Otro mes en la misma silla de hospital. Miro a mi alrededor, hay caras que ya conocíamos, otras han aparecido, y otras, desgraciadamente, desaparecieron hace meses. Pero todo son caras tristes, ¿qué se espera de la planta de oncología de un hospital? Esta zona es especial, la mayoría de los hombres venimos acompañados de una mujer que ve su vida caer. Miro a mi maravillosa mujer, (Y/N), con su pañuelo en la cabeza. Siempre que venimos aquí intento recordar cuándo comenzó este horrible viaje, cuándo el cáncer se hizo un hueco demasiado grande en nuestra vida.

Fue una noche de noviembre, yo estaba terminando de rodar, llegué a casa y me encontré a (Y/N) sola.

“¿Dónde está Joey?”

 “Lo he dejado en casa de mis padres, necesitamos una noche a solas.” Yo sonreí, inocente, esperando una cena romántica y una noche de desenfreno. Pero esa noche mi vida cambió por completo. “Siéntate en el sofá, tengo que enseñarte una cosa.” Dijo muy seria. Nos sentamos el uno al lado del otro y me cogió de las manos. “Hace dos semanas me sentí un bulto en el pecho, no pensé que fuera nada, pero por si acaso fui al ginecólogo. No te dije nada porque no quería preocuparte.” Yo asentí, sorprendido porque no me hubiera dicho nada.

 “¿Y cuando te dan los resultados?” pregunté inocentemente.

 “Me los han dado hoy, Joe. Tengo cáncer de mama, en estadio dos.”

Todo se paró, mi respiración, mi corazón. Lo único que podía oír era el reloj de pared haciendo tick-tack, como queriendo decirme que se me acababa el tiempo. Noté los ojos de mi mujer humedecerse, noté los míos humedecerse, toqué su anillo en el dedo anular de su mano derecha. Todo volvía a empezar, el sufrimiento que vivió mi padre durante varios meses, esta vez en mi mujer.

“Cariño…” susurré. Las lágrimas habían comenzado a caer por nuestras mejillas. (Y/N) se tiró encima de mí, en un abrazo. Temblamos juntos, lloramos juntos, quién sabe durante cuánto tiempo. Pero de repente estábamos tumbados en nuestra cama de matrimonio, (Y/N) sobre mi pecho, creando un charco de lágrimas en mi camiseta. Le besé en la frente y conseguí decir algo, por fin. “Saldrás de esta, y yo te ayudaré. Eres una luchadora.”

 “Yo sólo quiero que sepas que te quiero, a ti y a Joey.”

 “Ya lo sabemos, mi vida.” Seguimos llorando un rato más, no quería imaginarme la vida sin ella. Era demasiado pronto como para que pasara esto, nuestro hijo solo tenía cuatro años, llevábamos apenas seis casados. Recuerdo coger su mano, su delicada mano, con esas uñas siempre pintadas de rojo. Había cogido esa mano en tantos momentos, la primera vez que nos besamos, aquella tarde en el cine; en la boda, saliendo de la iglesia; durante el parto de Joey. Y ahora se la daba mientras la enfermedad que mató a mi padre, le mataba a ella. “¿Y ahora qué?”

 “El tumor no ha hecho metástasis, eso es bueno. Pero es demasiado grande como para tratarlo solo con quimioterapia. Primero me van a dar varias sesiones de quimio para reducirlo lo máximo posible, me operarán y luego ya veremos” (Y/N) me miró a los ojos. “Comienzo en dos semanas.” Yo asentí, para ese día ya habríamos cerrado rodaje, podría estar con ella todo el tiempo que fuese suficiente. “Tengo miedo, Joe.”

 Le dije que no tenía por qué, porque todo iba a ir de maravilla, pero la verdad es que yo también tenía mucho miedo.

  Dos semanas después estábamos juntos en una sala de hospital, viendo una peli mientras le inyectaban la primera dosis de quimioterapia. Estábamos asustados, porque no sabíamos cómo le sentaría, pero seguramente mal. Y así fue, las primeras horas no fueron mal, pero esa misma noche (Y/N) vomitó por primera vez. El tercer día ya no tenía ni fuerzas para levantarse de la cama, así que vomitaba sin siquiera avisarme. El quinto día empezó a haber más claridad, (Y/N) empezó a comer un poco. Pero también, al salir de los mareos provocados por la fiebre, se empezó a dar cuenta de la situación.

 “Quiero ver a Joey.”

 “Ya lo se, cariño, pero puede venir con gérmenes del cole, y te podría pegar algo.”

 (Y/N) solo asentía, se escapaban varias lágrimas siempre, pero siempre decía que estaba bien, que no quería preocuparme.

 Uno de los mayores problemas llegó tras el segundo ciclo de quimioterapia, se le empezó a caer el pelo. Que un hombre pierda el pelo era duro, pero que una mujer lo perdiera, era horrible. Cuando nos conocimos (Y/N) tenía el pelo larguísimo, y así había sido hasta ese momento. Cuando se empezó a dar cuenta de lo que estaba sucediendo decidió raparse. Yo le ayudé. Recuerdo como se miraba al espejo mientras lo hacíamos, las lágrimas caían constantemente sin hacer ningún ruido.

 Aun así, había momentos felices, cuando pasaba una semana desde que le daban la sesión, (Y/N) y Joey se rencontraban, mi corazón latía a mil el día que Joey llegó a casa después de que (Y/N) se hubiera rapado. Pero a él le encantó.

 “Mamá, eres como la de Dr. Strange.”

 “Si, cariño, ¿te gusta?” el niño miró a su madre sonriendo y susurrando “mola”.

 Pero cuando tenía que llevarle a casa de sus abuelos antes de la quimio era horrible. Joey siempre preguntaba sobre su madre.

 “Mamá se va a curar ¿a qué si, papá?”

 “Claro que sí, campeón.”

 “Pero Scott dijo el otro día que su tía se murió de la enfermedad de mamá.”

 “No te preocupes, mamá es una luchadora y va a salir de esta. Te lo prometo.”

 Cuando volví a entrar en el coche, media hora después, empezó a sonar en la playlist de (Y/N) una canción que no había oído nunca. Pero que no borraría de mi cabeza. Era “Terrible Things” de Mayday Parade.

 By the time I was your age I'd give anything to fall in love truly

was all I could think

that's when I met your mother

the girl of my dreams

the most beautiful woman that I'd ever seen.

She said boy can I tell you a wonderful thing?

"I can't help but notice you staring at me

I know I shouldn't say this, but I really believe

I can tell by your eyes that you're in love with me."

Now son, I'm only telling you this because life can do terrible things.

 No quería seguir escuchándola, sabía los derroteros que iba a tomar la canción, y aún asi, no podía parar de escucharla. Esa canción no había estado en esa playlist nunca, la había añadido (Y/N) uno de estos últimos días.

 Now most of the time we'd have too much to drink

and we'd laugh at the stars and we'd share everything.

Too young to notice and too dumb to care

love was a story that couldn't compare.

I said girl can I tell you a wonderful thing?

"I made you a present with paper and string

open with care now, I'm asking you please

you know that I love you

will you marry me?"

 De repente, y desde el día que me enteré del cáncer de mi mujer, volví a llorar como un niño, a solas, conduciendo de vuelta a casa, escuchando la historia que esperaba nunca vivir.

 Now son I'm only telling you this because life can do terrible things

you'll learn one day, and I hope and I pray that God shows you differently.

She said boy can I tell you a terrible thing?

"It seems that I'm sick and I've only got weeks.

Please don't be sad now, I really believe

you were the greatest thing that ever happened to me."

 Aparqué delante de la casa que compramos hace siete años y escuché, no quería pensar que (Y/N) había escuchado esta canción en los últimos meses, pero tenía que haberlo hecho, sino no estaría ahí. Noté tres golpes en la ventana y vi a mi mujer, sin pelo, hacer señas para que abriera la puerta.

 “Cariño, ¿qué te pasa?” dijo en tono preocupado cuando abrí. Señalé a la radio del coche, en la que sonaba la última estrofa, sin poder articular palabra a causa del lloro

 Slow, so slow, I fell to the ground on my knees.

So don't fall in love there's just too much to lose

if you're given the choice, I'm begging you choose to walk away, walk away

don't let it get you, I can't bare to see the same happen to you.

Now son, I'm only telling you this, because life can do terrible things.

“Cariño…” Me dio la mano para que saliera. Nos abrazamos en el jardín. “Lo siento, no me acordaba que tienes mi Spotify conectado a tu coche.”

 “¿Por qué escuchas esa canción?” cogí sus mejillas con mis manos, todavía llorando.

 “Porque tengo que prepararnos para todo, Joe. Mucha gente muere de esto y quiero tener cosas que me recuerden que tengo que vivir al máximo el tiempo que me quede, sea un año o sean cuarenta. Esto me anima a luchar.”

 “Entonces, cualquier cosa que te anime a luchar, me parece bien”

 “Te quiero.”

 “Yo te quiero más.”

 “Eso es imposible, Joey.”

Pasaron seis meses, los ciclos de quimioterapia continuaron. Dejaban a (Y/N) machacada, pero era lo que había. A los siete meses entró en quirófano, era una operación corta y sencilla, pero yo estaba muy asustado. El postoperatorio fue bien, lo duro fue llegar a casa, el día que (Y/N) se quitó el vendaje y vió por primera vez su pecho operado, una larga línea recorría su torso desde donde antes estaba su pezón hasta su axila. Lloró frente al espejo mucho más tiempo que cuando se rapó.

 “Soy feísima.” Nunca había oído a (Y/N) decir algo de forma tan seria.

 “Cariño, no lo eres.”

“Por el amor de Dios, Joe, mírame. No tengo pelo. No tengo una teta. No soy una mujer, soy una enfermedad que te ha jodido el último año de vida, a ti y a Joey.”

 “(Y/N), no quiero volver a escucharte decir eso. Ni siquiera en broma.” Le di la vuelta e hice que me mirara a los ojos. “Mírame, eres la persona más bonita que he conocido jamás, por dentro y por fuera. Obviamente este año no ha sido maravilloso, ha sido una mierda, pero no ha sido una mierda por tu culpa. Y da igual que haya sido una mierda porque hemos estado juntos los tres, hemos visto a nuestro hijo crecer, nos hemos visto crecer. Y Joey te adora, ¿sabes qué me dijo el otro día cuando salimos de verte del hospital?” (Y/N) negó con la cabeza. “Que eras su super héroe favorito.”

 (Y/N) lloró más, pero esta vez de emoción, susurró: “os quiero” y se dio la vuelta y se miró al espejo otra vez. “Pero tienes que admitir que ya no soy tan sexy como antes.”

 Me acerqué a ella, la abracé desde detrás y le susurré “Cariño, si supieras lo que me pones… Se te quitaban todas las dudas. Vamos a la cama que te lo demuestre.”

  La operación había ido bien, pero no tan bien como esperábamos. Siguieron dándole quimio.

 Y aquí estamos otra vez, un año y medio después de aquella noche en la que comenzó todo, a punto de entrar en una consulta para que nos dijeran que el tumor sigue ahí y que la quimio hacía efecto, pero iba lenta. Anoche, cuando estábamos en la cama, cada uno leyendo su libro me miró fijamente, me tocó la cara, y me dio las gracias.

 “¿Por qué?” respondí yo.

 “Porque cuando son las tres de la mañana y me despierto de una pesadilla, y pienso que nunca voy a escapar del cáncer, que siempre va a tenerme así. Cuando se me quitan las ganas de luchar. Sólo tengo que girarme, moverme un poco para despertarte y lo primero que haces es sonreírme, ahí es cuando recuerdo porqué debo seguir luchando. Y gracias por cuidar tanto y tan bien de Joey este tiempo. No podría haber llegado hasta aquí si no hubiera sido por vosotros dos.” Noté mis ojos llenarse de lágrimas. Respondí que no podíamos vivir sin ella, sin su sonrisa y sin su carácter luchador.

 La observo durante un rato mientras lee el periódico en el móvil. Llevábamos seis meses repitiendo esta consulta, esperando a que nos dijeran que todo había terminado, que no había rastro de enfermedad en el pecho de (Y/N). Y aunque no lo dijéramos, cada vez teníamos menos esperanzas y cada vez lo veíamos más lejos.

 “(Y/N) (Y/LN)” dice la enfermera. Pasamos a la consulta de la doctora.

 “Buenos días (Y/N), buenos días Joe.” Le damos la mando a la amable doctora que nos había atendido desde el primer momento. “Veamos.” Dice sacando unos informes y radiografías del sobre que siempre llevábamos con nosotros. La doctora sonríe. “(Y/N), ya no tienes cáncer.”

 Miro a mi preciosa mujer y susurro “Cariño…” igual que lo había hecho cuando me enteré de la enfermedad de (Y/N). Nuestros ojos se llenan de lágrimas, y de repente, estamos entre los brazos del otro. Ya no tendré que enseñarle a Joey esa horrible canción de Mayday Parade. Si se la enseñamos será juntos, para que sepa las terribles cosas que pasan en la vida.

[thestarsaroundyourscars]

I met you in the dark, you lit me up, ch 3

Chapter 3: The days before their first date

Summary: In which Richie is struggling with the planning of his date, Beverly comes to his aid and him and Eddie are the cutest boys ever, all excited about seeing each other again.

Pairing: Richie Tozier x Eddie Kaspbrak

Words: 3,128

AO3 link

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Tag list: @daddyphantomtbh @yes-dillman-yes @richietoaster @beepbeeprichiellc♥ And @thetheatregal because you told me you like being tagged in stuff, babe :)

Since the day of their first call, Richie and Eddie had talked to each other constantly, whether through texts or through phone calls. That very same day, Richie texted him right after hanging up and they talked till later that night when Richie fell asleep immediately after getting home from his shift at the radio station. When he woke up the next day, he texted Eddie, apologizing for falling asleep on him and they resumed their conversation from the night before.

Even though part of the reason why Eddie told Richie to text him after talking on the phone was to discuss the details of their upcoming date, they talked about everything except that.

When Eddie tried approaching the subject, Richie just said that he was going to take care of everything and that all Eddie had to worry about was getting his cute little butt ready on time for Richie to pick him up on Saturday. Eddie was reluctant at first, he didn’t like surprises and he didn’t want to end up going somewhere he wouldn’t enjoy and ruining the date because it got him in a bad mood, but Richie was being awfully stubborn about it, saying he was the one who asked Eddie out and therefore should be the one to plan the whole thing, so he agreed in the end.

Now Richie was regretting his decision. Not asking Eddie out on a date, that is probably the best thing he has done in his life so far, but saying he would be responsible for planning it? That, he most definitely regret.

He had no idea what to do. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, he had a lot of ideas but none of them seemed good enough and if there was one thing he was sure of was that he wanted everything to be perfect.

Right now he was in his bedroom, with an open notebook over his crossed legs. On its pages Richie would scribble down whatever idea for a first day that came to his head, only to cross it out after not liking it enough.

Drinks at a bar? Been there, done that. Dinner at a fancy restaurant? Too cliché, not to mention they were both college students, and even if both of them had jobs they didn’t have enough money to be expending it on teeny tiny sized portions of food. Bowling? Roller skating? He wasn’t really trying to embarrass himself in front of Eddie or end up at the ER for falling down on his face and breaking his nose or dropping a bowling ball on his foot and breaking his toe, both of which had happened to him before. Games at the arcade? Lame as fuck for a first date. Stroll down the park? There is only so much walking they can do and they’d be back at their respective homes after only an hour or so. Movie Theater? Not much chance for talking. A picnic? Carnival? Coffee date?

Richie groaned irritated, he threw the notebook against the wall and let himself fall backwards on his bed.

“Why is this so fucking hard?” he muttered, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes with his hands.

He heard the door open but he didn’t open his eyes nor did he sit back down.

“Homework giving you a hard time?” Beverly asked. Richie felt her sit down on the edge of his bed and place a hand on his ankle.

“This is actually worse than homework” he replied, supporting himself on his elbows to look at her, but without his glasses on, all he was able to see was a blurry mess of colors where Beverly should have been, “I have absolutely no idea where to take Eddie on our first date.”

He didn’t need to be able to see Bev’s face clearly to know she was eyeing him skeptically. He saw her stand up and grab what Richie guessed was the notebook he had thrown away in frustration. She sat down again, this time on Richie’s desk chair.

“These aren’t bad ideas, Rich” she said, Richie grabbed his glasses and put them on. He saw her frown, “not all of them at least. Shopping mall, Richie? Really?”

“Trust me, I fucking know. But I’ve been at this for hours and every idea I manage to come up with is as bad as the last one. I’m kind of desperate at this point, Marsh” he said with a frown of his own, falling back on the bed again.

“You need to relax. It’s just a first date, honey, it’s not like you’re planning to propose” she said, shaking her head.

He sat up and with all seriousness he said, “No, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want it to be perfect. He deserves an amazing first date, Bev, and I want to give it to him.”

Beverly was looking at him with a soft smile on her face, making Richie fidget under her stare.

“What?” He asked her.

“Nothing, I just… I’ve never seen you like this, Rich, not with anyone.”

“Yeah well, I’ve never felt this way with anyone before.” She was still looking at him in that way, so he added, “Stop looking at me like that!”

She laughed, “I just think it’s cute” Richie rolled his eyes and before he got the chance to reply she continued, “Fine, I’ll stop. I still think you are giving this way too much thought” she said.

Richie groaned. “What do you think I should do then?”

“You need to think about what Eddie likes, you two have been talking nonstop these past few days, you must know some of those things by now”.

“Well, yeah but I don’t… wait, how do you know we’ve been talking?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Oh please” she says, rolling her eyes, “You get all excited whenever you get a text and then there’s that stupid smile you get when you are texting back. Not to mention, last night you locked yourself up in here for like an hour and I could hear you talking and laughing through the door.”

“You’re listening to me through the door, Marsh? What if I was doing something more R-rated than talking on the phone?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows at her.

“As gross as that would be, it wouldn’t be the first time that has happened to me” she said with a grimace, “Anyways, there’s also the fact that yesterday you made us walk back from the subway station to the apartment, even though we were already late for our classes, once you found out you had forgotten your phone because ’Jesus fuck, Beverly, what if someone texts me? What will they think if I don’t answer’?” she said, mocking Richie. He rolled his eyes at her but he could feel himself starting to blush. Holy shit, she’s right. I’ve been acting like a 13 year-old with a crush, he thinks.

“Fuck off, like you are any better when it comes to Ben” he replies and the reaction is instantaneous, Beverly’s eyes widen and she blushes furiously like she always does whenever he, Stan or Mike bring Ben up.

They both stay silent, embarrassed and looking everywhere except at each other. Eventually, Richie clears his throat and talks.

“He likes animals.”

Beverly must have spaced out, because she looks confused when she asks, “What?”

“Eds. Eddie. He likes animals. His mother didn’t let him have pets when he was a kid because he had a bunch of allergies, so he would spend a lot of his time learning about them, he read books and watched Animal Planet every night before bed. He told me there was this one time when they took his class to an aquarium. It took a lot to convince his mom to let him go, she’s kind of overbearing and was worried he would get sick or something. He told me that in the end she only let him go, because Bill’s mom, Bill is one of his best friends, volunteered to go and promised Eddie’s mom she would look after him. He says that trip is still one of his favorite memories” he doesn’t look at Beverly while saying this, he’s playing with a loose thread on his bed and smiling at the memory of Eddie telling him that story over the phone.

“There was one thing that prevented the day from being perfect though. Parents had to sign an extra permit if they wanted to allow their kids to feed the otters but Eddie’s mom didn’t sign it, so he had to stay back while his classmates fed and played with them. He was devastated, they’re his favorite animals, the otters, he told me that”, he recounts.

“That’s so fucking cute” Beverly said with a smile.

“Yeah, I know, I told him that too.”

They fall silent again and Richie is startled when Beverly straightens in the chair, grabs Richie’s laptop and starts typing.

“The hell are you doing, Bev?” Richie asks but she only gestures at him to keep quiet and keeps typing.

He’s about to ask her again what has gotten into her when she stands up, computer in hand and turns to look at him. She has a crazy look on her face and Richie eyes her warily, usually he is the one giving Beverly that look right before dragging her alone to do something brilliant or stupid, most of the times is the latter. He’s not used to being on the other end of that look, it’s somewhat terrifying.

“Okay, you’re freaking me out Bev. What’s going on?”

“Oh nothing, I just had the perfect idea for your date with Eddie.”

Richie raises an eyebrow expectantly but she just stays where she is and says nothing. Richie sighs, “Well? Are you going to tell me or just stare at me like some crazy woman?”

Instead of answering, she puts the computer on his lap and points at the screen where the results for what she typed are showing.

Richie’s eyes scan the computer and he takes a moment to feel stupid for not thinking about this himself. Then he looks at Beverly and her grin is just as big as his.

“Beverly Marsh, you are a fucking genius” he says.

“What can I say? I try” She says with a shrug, then while pointing at the computer screen she adds, “Click there for more information.”

Richie looks back at the computer and clicks on the link like Bev said. And as he does, all he can think is, Eddie Spaghetti, get ready for the best first date of your life.

-♥-

“You’re still not going to tell me?” Richie hears Eddie ask through the phone.

“Nope” he answers. He is currently in the kitchen, making dinner. He’s making spaghetti and meatballs, and Eddie already threatened to hang up on him if he made one more joke about it.

Richie always loved to cook, and to everyone’s surprise, he was actually really good at it, so good that he used to be the designated cook in his circle of friends, meaning him, Bev and Stan before they met Mike.

After the first time they tried Mike’s food, they all agreed he was a better cook than Richie. That didn’t mean he stopped cooking for them, he liked doing it and they encouraged it. Last Christmas, they had gotten Richie an apron with the words “Kiss the cook” written on the front, only before giving it to him, they had crossed out the word kiss and wrote ’Fuck’ instead, Bev’s idea. Richie had laughed like crazy after seeing it and had put it on immediately. He was actually wearing that apron right now.

“I already told you, I hate surprises.”

“Well my dear Eddie Spaghetti, you are going to have to suck it up” he said “I am not telling you anything other than ’Be ready at 11:00 on Saturday and make sure you wear those shorts you wore on the day we met’.”

Eddie sighed, “Fine, I hate you.”

“No, you don’t, babe, don’t lie” he said.

Even though he had the phone on speaker he could hear Eddie let out a little squeak, caught off guard by the pet name, even though Richie had been using it more and more when they talked. He couldn’t wait to call him that to his face and see his reaction in person.

“Richie?” he heard him ask in a small voice.

“Yeah?”

“I just… I’m really looking forward to our date, that’s all” he said shyly, “even if you won’t tell me what we are doing.”

The confession caught Richie off guard, so much that he spilled more oil in the pan than he meant to, which made some of it splash his arm, burning him.

“Fuck! Shit, fuck, fuck, fuck!” he screamed in pain, while running towards the sink and putting his arm under the running water.

“Richie? Oh my God, are you okay?” he heard Richie asked, alarmed.

“I’m fine, Eds. It’s nothing.”

“That was a lot of yelling for nothing.”

“I might have… burned my arm a little? Some of the hot oil splashed me. But it’s okay now.”

“Are you sure?”

“One hundred percent, don’t you worry your pretty little head about it” he said, turning off the water, it still hurt a bit but it was bearable.

“Okay… I don’t understand why your friends let you anywhere near the kitchen with no supervision though” chuckled Eddie.

“Hey, I have everything under control here.”

“Uh huh, forgive me if I don’t believe you after what just happened, Rich.”

“That wasn’t my fault! You distracted me with your… your flirting!”

“I wasn’t flirting!” Eddie yelled, “I was just… uh… you’re the one who is always flirting!”

“You say that like I’m trying to be subtle about it” Richie answered and the smirk was evident on his voice.

He could practically hear Eddie trying to think of something to say that would take this conversation in a different direction, but he didn’t seemed to be able to come up with anything.

Luckily for Eddie, Stan, Mike and Bev chose that exact moment to barge into the apartment.

“Damn, it smells amazing in here!” he heard Mike say.

“Richie?” That was Bev.

“No, Beverly, I’m pretty sure that’s just some murderer who decided to have some dinner while he waited for someone to kill” And that was definitely Stan. He heard Mike laughed and what sounded like Beverly punching Stan in the arm.

“Stan the man gets off a good one!” Richie yelled while grabbing his phone and taking it off speaker, “Hey, Eds, you still there?”

“Yeah, I’m here. I’m guessing you have to go now.”

“I can stay on the line some more.”

“No, no, your friends are there, you should go talk to them.”

“But I want to talk to you too.”

“Rich, we’ve been talking for” he paused and Richie guessed he was looking at his phone screen, “48 minutes.” Wow, I didn’t even notice it had been that long, he thinks, Eddie continues, “Aren’t you getting tired of listening to my voice?”

“Never” he answers. He doesn’t want to hang up, but Eddie is right, his friends are there and soon enough they will invade the kitchen looking for food and it’s going to be impossible to hold a conversation with them if he’s still on the phone, “But you’re right, I should go. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, Rich, I should try and get some homework done anyways.”

“Hey Eds?” Eddie hums so Richie knows that he is listening, “You’re not the only one who is looking forward to our date, you know? I really can’t fucking wait to see that cute face of yours again.”

He hears Eddie groan and he panics when he thinks he might have gone too far, especially when he says, “You know what I am not looking forward to?” Fortunately, before Richie can freak out, Eddie answers his own question, “You being able to see how much I fucking blush whenever you say things like that.”

Richie laughs out loud and Eddie joins him. “Oh but Eddie, that is my favorite fucking thing.”

“Yeah, yeah, goodbye Trashmouth.”

I knew telling Eds about that particular nickname was going to come back to bite me in the ass, he thinks. “Bye, Eddie Spaghetti” he says and Eddie ends the call after a half-hearted “Don’t call me that.”

He puts the phone down and turns around, there standing in front of him on the doorway are Beverly, Mike and Stan staring at him.

“How long have you three nosy losers been standing there?” he asks.

“Long enough to witness what is probably the gayest phone call of all times” Stan answers and the three of them start laughing and imitating Richie horribly.

“Oh Eddie Spaghetti I love you.”

“I don’t ever want to stop talking to you.”

“I’m counting down the days to see your angelic face again.”

Richie glares at them but he can feel his face burn in embarrassment.

“You fuckers are just jealous” He grumbles while flipping them off. For some reason that only makes his friends laugh even more. He leaves the kitchen to go and hide in the bathroom until his face recovers its natural pale color but their laughter follows him.

He feels his phone vibrate in his hand from a new text, he sees its Eddie’s and rushes to unlock the phone so he can read it. He is glad he is no longer in the kitchen because the way he is smiling just because of the fact that Eds texted him would have earned him even more teasing.

Turns out the message is actually a picture, on it Richie sees Eddie’s desk, there are books, sheets of paper and a bunch of pens, in one corner there is a package of Oreo cookies and a glass of milk. The caption for the picture says:

Compared to your dinner, mine is pretty lame.

I’m happy we talked. Goodnight, Rich.

-Your very own Spaghetti :)

PS: Only I get to make those jokes. If you try, you die.

Richie practically whines at the adorableness that is Eddie Kaspbrak. He guesses some teasing from his friends is a small price to pay for talking to, and hopefully in a near future dating, a guy like him.

He takes a quick selfie and sends it to him, with the caption “Goodnight, you cutie” and almost immediately he gets another picture, this time of Eddie smiling at him through the camera. Yeah, he thinks, that face is most definitely worth all the teasing in the world.