#but hearing words of sympathy and stuff meant to world to me even if it was just an off the cuff remark

[hallufabrication]

It's a small world

A fic about various things I wanted to write about instead of rambling about them; focuses on Manta and Hannah. The whole thing is under the cut.

Manta didn’t expect his and Hannah’s connection to fizzle out the way it did.

Not that he was expecting anything specific; She wasn’t someone he would really consider a friend. At the same time, though, he couldn’t deny that they weren’t exactly strangers, either. They hung out sometimes, she tried to help him during his illegal race against Corto, and they bonded over how great they thought Teach tech was – something that left a bitter taste in his mouth now.

He would have expected some kind of a lukewarm goodbye, or an awkward wave as they stepped onto the boats meant to take them to their homes. But as the boat steering towards the Solar Sea took off, there was no exchange between them - in fact, he wasn’t even anywhere nearby, instead preparing for his and Shino’s attempt at getting a better life for themselves.

He did think then if he should have approached her outburst the day before the way he did. Back then, he didn’t see it as anything more than a show of weakness; she wouldn’t have lasted a day in what he had to live through on Polaris. Why should she get sympathy for being a double-crosser? For only feeling bad now that it was too late anyway, now that Gavinda’s plan was in full swing?

But it wasn’t too late. Not to her and the Tikis, anyway. And she did her part in fighting against Teach…

Unlike him, at first.

No, Hannah wasn’t weak. After everything, Manta could tell that much.

Maybe he shouldn’t have underestimated how cruel Teach could have been to her. Maybe that shouldn’t have been his last words to her.

“Oh well. Too bad”, he thought, going back to packing his stuff. What’s done is done.

He hasn’t really thought about this, or anything related to the Mirages, for the next few months. He had more important things on his mind - building a new life from scratch with Shino (and Debbie) on an entirely new island was challenging enough to take away any time he could have had for reminiscing about his old acquaintances from the Whale Cup.

They weren’t on his mind these few months later, as he was walking through one of the lesser known alleys of Tortuga to his boat, either - at least not until he saw a familiar looking silhouette walking through one of the streets he’d usually pass.

“Hannah?” He called out instinctively, more out of surprise than anything else.

“Oh– hi, Manta.” She replied, turning around to face him. “Been a while, huh?”

“Yeah, but– What are you doing here?”

“On Tortuga? I came for the Rotor Punch, obviously.” She shrugged. “But, I wanted to see how you’re doing with my own two eyes while I’m here, too.”

“You heard of me?” He asked, squinting his eyes.

“Duh. It’d be harder to not hear of the famous White Tiger, honestly.” She said, leaning on the wall next to her. “You’re taking Aquagram by storm– You know that, right?”

He shrugged and made an indecipherable hum. Debbie did tell him that he was getting more popular day by day, but he never really got interested in how popular he was outside of Tortuga, exactly. His winning streak mattered to him more than whatever she was doing over on her hologlove.

“Wait, but– Rotor Punch? You’re competing?”

“What, you think I can’t handle it?”

“It’s just– I didn’t know if you’d still be racing after… Everything.”

Hannah frowned for a short second, but quickly smirked instead.

“It takes more than that to make me quit, you know. I managed to get into Solar Empire’s drone guard.”

She crossed her arms, still leaning on the wall.

“So, I’m the one representing the Empire this year.”

“Oh, wow. You got yourself a solid position, huh?” He said, walking over and sitting down on the stairs next to her. “How’d you even do that?”

“Eh, turns out getting to the finals of the Whale Cup was good enough of an achievement to sign up. Only had to climb a few ranks after that.”

“Pshf, sounds easy.” He teased. She only hummed in response.

“What about Adam? Is he participating with you?”

A slight grimace showed up on Hannah’s face. Manta wasn’t sure how to decipher what emotion it was supposed to show.

“...No, he’s not. He hasn’t reached out to me after Teach’s defeat.”

“Oh.” Manta said. “...Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Hannah sighed, sitting next to him on the stairs.

“...I haven’t tried to reach him, either. At first I thought I should, since Teach manipulated him, too, but… He was always more invested in her plans than I was. It seems like we both picked our sides.”

“...I see.”

“Yeah.”

A moment of silence fell upon them.

“And you’re…not worried?”

Hannah glared at him for a few seconds before deciding on an answer.

“I… don’t know. I have mixed feelings about it all.” She stated, resting her chin on her hand.

“Teach was cruel to him, too. She’s not going to suddenly do a 180. But, if that was his choice, then–”

She suddenly waved with the same hand in the air, leaning back.

“--so be it! I’m not going to chase after someone who made up their mind!”

She let out something between a groan and a sigh, hiding her face with her hands for a moment.

“...What’s it to you, anyway? I didn’t take you for the type to talk about this kinda stuff.”

Manta shrugged, looking somewhere else.

“You were the one who said it’s been a while.”

“Heh– yeah, that’s true.” She chuckled. “I guess it did a number on you.”

“Hmm.”

They sat for a moment in silence before Hannah stood up from the stairs.

“...Well, I should go. I take it you’re taking part in the Rotor Punch too, right?”

“Of course. Who do you take me for?”

“Yeah, thought so.” She smirked again, turning back to go about her way.

“I’ll see you around, then. Just don’t expect me to go easy on you.”

“Psh, as if I’d need that. But yeah. See you around.” He replied, also getting up from the sidewalk.

As he got back to walking to his boat, he felt a sense of a relief he didn’t expect.

Turns out, he was sorta glad to see her again.

[blackcatrph]

** sour  sentence  starters.

brutal.

“  i think that i’ll die before i drink.  ”

“  i'm so caught up in the news of who likes me and who hates you.  ”

“  i'm so tired that I might quit my job, start a new life.  ”

“  they'd all be so disappointed  because who am I if not exploited?  ”

“  where's my fuckin' teenage dream?  ”

“  if someone tells me one more time "enjoy your youth," I'm gonna cry.  ”

“  i'm anxious and nothing can help.  ”

“  i wish I'd done this before.  ”

“  i wish people liked me more.  ”

“  all I did was try my best.  ”

“  this the kind of thanks I get?  ”

“  they say these are the golden years.  ”

“  i wish I could disappear.  ”

“  god, it's brutal out here.  ”

“  i feel like no one wants me.  ”

“  i only have two real friends.  ”

“  lately I'm a nervous wreck.  ”

“  i love people I don't like.  ”

“  i hate every song I write.  ”

“  i'm not cool, and I'm not smart.  ”

“  i can't even parallel park.  ”

“  got a broken ego, broken heart.  ”

“  i don't even know where to start.  ”

traitor.

“  brown guilty eyes and little white lies.  ”

“  i played dumb but I always knew.  ”

“  i kept quiet so I could keep you.  ”

“  ain't it funny how you ran to her the second that we called it quits?  ”

“  ain't it funny how you said you were friends?  ”

“  it sure as hell don't look like it.  ”

“  you betrayed me.  ”

“  i know that you'll never feel sorry for the way I hurt.  ”

“  loved you at your worst but that didn't matter.  ”

“  guess you didn't cheat, but you're still a traitor.  ”

“  there's no damn way that you could fall in love with somebody that quickly.  ”

“  ain't it funny, all the twisted games, all the questions you used to avoid?  ”

“  remember I brought her up and you told me I was paranoid?  ”

“  i wish that you had thought this through before I went and fell in love with you.  ”

“  you gave me your word but that didn't matter.  ”

drivers  license. 

“  i got my driver's license last week.  ”

“  just like we always talked about.  ”

“  today I drove through the suburbs crying 'cause you weren't around.  ”

“  you're probably with that blonde girl.  ”

“  she's so much older than me.  ” 

“  she's everything I'm insecure about.  ”

“  how could I ever love someone else?   “

“  i know we weren't perfect but I've never felt this way for no one.  ”

“  i just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone.  ”

“  guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me.  ”

“  all my friends are tired of hearing how much I miss you.  ”

“  I kinda feel sorry for them because they'll never know you the way that I do.  ”

“  i still see your face in the white cars, front yards.  ”

“  can't drive past the places we used to go to because I still fuckin' love you.  ”

1  step  forward,  3  steps  back.

“  i called you on the phone today.  ”

“  all I did was speak normally.  ”

“  you got me fucked up in the head.  ”

“  like am I pretty? am I fun?  ”

“  i hate that I gave you power over that kind of stuff.  ”

“  it's always one step forward and three steps back.  ”

“  i'm the love of your life until I make you mad.  ”

“  do you love me, want me, hate me? i don't understand.  ”

“  maybe in some masochistic way I kind of find it all exciting.  ”

“  which lover will I get today?  ”

“  will you walk me to the door or send me home cryin'?  ”

“  it's back and forth, did I say somethin' wrong?  ”

“  it's back and forth, goin' over everything I said.  ”

“  i'd leave you, but the roller coaster's all I've ever had.  ”

deja vu.

“  strawberry ice cream, one spoon for two?  ”

“  i bet she's braggin' to all her friends, sayin' you're so unique.  ”

“  so when you gonna tell her that we did that, too?  ”

“  that was our place, I found it first.  ”

“  i made the jokes you tell to her when she's with you.  ”

“  do you get déjà vu when she's with you?  ”

“  do you call her, almost say my name?  ”

“  i hate to think that I was just your type.  ”

“  don't act like we didn't do that shit too.  ”

“  play her piano, but she doesn't know that I was the one who taught you Billy Joel.  ”

good  4  u.

“  well, good for you, I guess you moved on really easily.  ”

“  you found a new girl and it only took a couple weeks.  ”

“  remember when you said that you wanted to give me the world?  ”

“  good for you, I guess that you've been workin' on yourself.  ” 

“  i guess that therapist I found for you, she really helped.  ”

“  now you can be a better man for your brand new girl.  ”

“  well, good for you, you look happy and healthy.  ”

“  not me, if you ever cared to ask.  ”

“  good for you, you're doin' great out there without me.  ”

“  i've lost my mind.  ”

“  i've spent the night cryin' on the floor in my bathroom.  ”

“  it's like we never even happened.  ”

“  what the fuck is up with that?  ”

“  good for you, it's like you never even met me.  ”

“  remember when you swore to god i was the only person who ever got you?  ”

“  well, screw that and screw you.  ”

“  you will never have to hurt the way you know that I do.  ”

“  maybe I'm too emotional.  ”

“  your apathy's like a wound in salt.  ”

“  maybe I'm too emotional  or maybe you never cared at all.  ”

“  like a damn sociopath.  ”

enough  for  you.

“  i wore makeup when we dated because I thought you'd like me more.  ”

“  i know that you loved before.  ”

“  tried so hard to be everything that you like.  ”

“  i read all of your self-help books so you'd think that I was smart.  ”

“  stupid, emotional, obsessive little me.  ”

“  i knew from the start this is exactly how you'd leave.  ”

“  you found someonе more exciting.  ”

“  you left me there cryin', wonderin' what I did wrong.  ”

“  you always say I'm never satisfied but I don't think that's true.  ”

“  all I ever wanted was to be enough for you.  ”

“  maybe I'm just not as interesting as the girls you had before.  ”

“  you couldn't have cared less about someone who loved you more.  ”

“  i'd say you broke my heart but you broke much more than that.  ”

“  i don’t want your sympathy, i just want myself back.  ”

“  don’t you think i loved you too much to be used and discarded?  ”

“  don't you think I loved you too much to think I deserve nothing?  ”

“  don’t tell me you’re sorry, feel sorry for yourself.  ”

“  someday i’ll be everything to somebody else.  ”

“  you’ll be the one crying.  ”

happier.

“  we broke up a month ago. ”

“  your friends are mine you know.  ”

“  you’ve moved on, found someone new.  ”

“  i thought my heart was detached from all the sunlight of our past.  ”

“  she’s so sweet, she’s so pretty.  ”

“  does she mean you forgot about me ?  ”

“  i hope you’re happy but not like how you were with me.  ”

“  i’m selfish i know. i can’t let you go.  ”

“  find someone great, but don’t find no one better.  ”

“  i hope you’re happy, but don’t be happier.  ”

 “  do you tell her she’s the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen?  ”

“  an eternal love bullshit you know you’ll never mean.  ”

“  remember when i believe you meant it when you said it first to me?  ”

“  now i’m picking her apart like cutting her down will make you miss my wretched heart.  ”

“  she’s beautiful, she looks kind.  ”

“  she probably gives you butterflies.  ”

“  i wish you all the best, really.  ”

“  say you love her, just not like you loved me.  ”

“  think of me fondly when your hands are on her.  ”

jealousy  jealousy.

“  i kinda wanna throw my phone across the room.  ”

“  all i see are girls too good to be true.  ”

“  i know their beauty’s not my lack but it feels like that weight is on my back.  ”

“  comparison is killing me slowly.  ”

“  i think i think too much.  ”

“  i’m so sick of myself, i’d rather be anyone else.  ”

“  my jealousy started following me.  ”

“  i see everyone getting all the things i want.  ”

“  i’m happy for them, but then again, i’m not.  ”

“  i can’t stand it.  ” 

“  oh god i sound crazy.  ”

“  their win is not my loss, i know it’s true.  ”

“  i can’t help getting caught up in it all.  ”

“  all your friends are so cool.  ”

“  you go out every night.  ”

“  you’re living the life.  ”

“  i want to be you so bad, and i don’t even know you.  ”

“  all i see is what i should be.  ”

favourite  crime.

“  know that i love you so bad.  ”

“  i let you treat me like that.  ”

“  i was your willing accomplice.  ”

“  i watched as you fled the scene.  ”

“  doe-eyed as you buried me.  ”

“  the things i did just so i could call you mine.  ”

“  the things you did. well, i hope i was your favourite crime.  ”

“  you used me as an alibi.  ”

“  i crossed my heart and you crossed the line.  ”

“  i defended you to all my friends.  ”

“  every time i siren sounds, i wonder if you’re around.  ”

“  you know that i’d do it all again.  ”

“  it’s bittersweet to think about the damage that we’d do.  ”

“  i was going down but i was doing it with you.  ”

“  i say that i hate you with a smile on my face.  ”

“  look what we became.  ” 

hope  ur  ok.

“  his parents cared more about the bible than being good to their own child.  ”

“  wore long sleeves because of his dad.  ”

“  somehow we fell out of touch.  ”

“  hope he took his bad deal and made a royal flush.  ”

“  don’t know if i’ll see you again someday.  ”

“  i hope that you’re okay.  ”

“  her parents hated who she loved.  ”

“  she was brought into a world where family was merely blood.  ” 

“  with the courage to unlearn all of their hatred.  ”

“  we don’t talk much.  ”

“  i miss you and i hope that you’re okay.  ”

“  address the letter to the holes in my butterfly wings.  ”

“  nothing’s forever, nothing is as good as it seems.  ”

“  when the clouds are ironed our and the monsters creep into your house, every door is hard to close.  ”

“  i hope you know how proud i am.  ”

“  i hope that you’re happier today.  ”

“  i love you and i hope that you’re okay.  ”  

[hockeywhy]

4 times you faked a relationship + 1 time you didn’t; m.tkachuk

WARNINGS: language. WORD COUNT: 17.2k. A/N: So, I didn’t want my effort for this fic to go to waste and I’ve decided to re-write it for Matty because he and the fake dating trope work so well together. I had to, so here it is.

one.

“I’d only be asking Matthew if I had no other options and needed a last resort,” you said. “Until then, I’m not even contemplating it.” 

“Kind of sounds like you’ve just about reached the bottom of your list, right around where you’re keeping Matthew, Y/N,” your friend, Anna, responded and though her tone said sympathy, the look on her face reflected anything but sheer elation. 

The invitation landed on your tabletop with a loud slap while you deposited yourself in a nearby chair unceremoniously, glaring at the decorative paper as if it offended you. Actually, scratch that. It did offend you. Greatly so. Honestly, it may as well have come in the form of one of those boxing gloves that sprung out of a box immediately upon opening and decked you square in the face. That’s how much it offended you. 

The golden letters inked on the thick paper warmly requested the pleasure of your company to witness the love of Josh Reynolds to Louise Jones six weeks from now. The location stated was a hotel you knew only through word of mouth: one of those fancy establishments that served ridiculously priced plates that were more canapes than actual meals. 

You doubted there would be much pleasure from your company.

You and Josh called it quits just over a year ago after a relationship that became increasing rockier, significantly more emotionally exhausting. The two of you started dating in high school and if the relationship started off with nothing but the sort of blinding fiery passion only teens could be capable of, well someone missed the memo on giving you the message that all fires eventually fizzle out. Gradually, it was the only way you could see your relationship heading and it seemed that Josh felt it too. It made the breakup easier: it was neat and mutual. Still, that couldn’t be considered an incentive for either of you to invite each other to such grand, deeply personal events. You couldn’t help but feel a little hurt that he found someone he wanted to tie the knot with so quickly but in retrospect, Josh had always wanted that while you were content as you were. That seemed to be the fork in your road with him.

On the one hand, you were angry at Josh for even considering jotting your name down on the list of attendees and on the other, you were angry at yourself for being angry about that. One moment you were dead set on declining the invite and the next, you considering that doing that would simply show you were bitter and unable to be civil about it. Besides, surely it was noted somewhere in the Rulebook of Ex’s that you just couldn’t do stuff like that. That seemed to just about do it. Like hell you’d given anyone the satisfaction of one-upping you.

You needed a plus one. Desperately. 

“Ask your brother then. Pretty sure that’s bound to impress anyone there. It’s not often many will get to say they brushed shoulders with an up-and-coming professional athlete.” 

“I don’t need that sort of plus one. If I did, I would’ve asked you—”

“Thanks,” Anna mumbled.”

“—but what I need,” you ploughed on ahead, “is, well, something that can come off a bit more serious looking.”

She rolled her eyes. “Saying the word boyfriend won’t jinx you into permanent silence, you know. You need a boyfriend.”

“A boyfriend for a day,” you agreed contemplatively. 

She picked up the invitation to look through it carefully and after concluding her inspection, she slapped the papers back down on the table, grinning. “Matthew it will be then!” 

Your younger brother, Jake, recently signed his entry-level contract with the Calgary Flames, in a way carrying forward the family tradition of starting a career in professional sports with them. Your grandfather did, your father did and now, here you were watching your little brother take on the mantle. Your family’s involvement in sport and, specifically, the team meant that you were somewhat familiar with the organization whether that meant attending home games or a few events arranged by the team. You couldn’t say you were the best of friends with them, certainly nowhere near the level your brother was, but generally speaking you were fond of the C of Red. 

That couldn’t also be said about Matthew, however.

It seemed that from the get-go, there was a personality clash between you. At first, you thought it was just Matthew picking on you, joking around as he disagreed with virtually anything you’d say but progressively, you were pretty sure the two of you didn’t even have the compatibility to keep things civil. Matthew had a way with pushing your buttons and it bothered you he could do that with so much ease, though the more you thought of it, the more it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to you: you were all too familiar with his on-ice shenanigans, after all. Whenever you knew you had to be under the same roof as him, you’d tell yourself to not let him get under your skin but that resolve would last for all of ten minutes. Fifteen if you had a particularly good day. 

Much to your chagrin, it seemed your brother was closest to Matthew. Though you offered the spare room in your apartment, your brother was so warmly welcomed by Matthew. It was no doubt even Jake found your annoyance with his teammate entertaining.

The thought alone was frustrating enough. If one day, by chance, you caught sight of a white strand of hair on your head, you were dead set on blaming Matthew for it. Matthew and his smarmy attitude; Matthew and his smartass retorts; Matthew and the smirks he threw your way whenever your brother took his side, outnumbering you. 

You clenched your teeth, glaring at the invite. From the corner of your eye, you saw Anna’s outstretched hand holding your phone out to you. A groan formed in your throat and you wished you kept in contact with the handful of guys you tried dating after Josh. None really stayed. Or better said, none managed to draw you in. It was as if Josh had put a jinx on you. If that was the case, you hoped that this whammy would disappear if it meant watching him watch someone else walk down the aisle towards him. 

Anna waved the device at you insistently. “Do it. Come on. Even you know nothing says fuck you like turning up there with Matthew. Scrappy when he wants to be and he’s not bad to look at either. You know it.” 

You arched an eyebrow up at her. “More than Johnny?” 

She flushed visibly. Johnny and Anna were still a relatively new thing, dancing around their relationship carefully as if they were both doing this rodeo for the first time. It was pretty cute. “Don’t change the subject.” She placed the device down on the table in front of you then patted your shoulder. “I have a feeling you won’t regret it. If he gets on your nerves too much, well…it can’t be worse than watching your ex get married, right?” 

“Ouch,” you winced, but chuckled, knowing you were defeated. Matthew was the last resort, and you knew you were at the bottom of your list before you even started going through it. “You do realize if he declines, I’ll probably make a start on packing my bags and moving to Montana, right? The only time you’ll hear from me is when my handwritten letter goes through the nine circles of hell that is our postal service.” 

Anna fixed you with a stare that could only read as ‘do it’. “I wouldn’t be so insistent on this if I knew Matthew would say no. I have a feeling he’ll surprise you.” 

With a heavy sigh, you unlocked your phone and scrolled through your list of contacts, thumb hovering over his name when it came up. Anna wasn’t wrong: Matthew wasn’t bad to look at all, that much you could admit. But god, if he turned you down…. you knew you wouldn’t be able to ever show your face in front of him or the rest of the team ever again. 

“I think I’ve had enough surprises from him to last a lifetime,” you mumbled but tapped the call symbol anyway.

He answered on the third ring. “Hel—

You didn’t let him finish. “I need your help,” you ground out, eyes closing while you rubbed at your forehead with the tips of your fingers. 

There was silence on the other end of the line that had you biting your lip in anxiousness. You shouldn’t have done this. You really shouldn’t have done this. All it would take would be just hitting the ‘resume my account’ link on one of the dating apps you signed up for a while ago. Someone was bound to be attracted not only to you but the promise of an open bar—

“Music to my ears,” Matthew’s response came through. You could practically hear the smile in his voice and knew you’d regret it; you could easily tell from the tone of his voice. 

You sighed quietly, leaning forward to rest your elbows on the table, eyes glued to the invitation. Fuck it, you could get someone else; easily, no doubt. The world of online dating was vast and there would always be takers.

“Uh, yeah actually, never mind—”

“No, no. Come on, Y/N. Pretty sure this is the first time you’re calling me first so can we take a moment to just let that sink in?” Silence again, then a chuckle. “Okay, now that we did. How can I help you?” 

It wasn’t as if Josh had put you in the position to ask Matthew for a favor but still: fuck Josh, anyway. In a split second of sheer pettiness, you considered aiming to host the most extravagant, unforgettable weddings when your turn would come just to show him who does it better. 

“Are you free the third weekend in June?” you asked tiredly. 

“Don’t know. Depends what for and who you’re asking for.” 

You should’ve asked him face-to-face. At least then, he would’ve had the chance to see you roll your eyes, turn on your heel and walk away. “I’m obviously asking for myself. Could you just be straightforward for once and answer yes or no? You’re making me hold the line for longer than I anticipated and I’m happy to ask someone else,” you lied.

“Let me get this right—” Here comes, you thought exhausted. “You’re calling me for the first time since you have my number to ask me if I’m free the third weekend in June? As a favor for yourself.” 

“Matthew, I didn’t stutter—”

“What’s happening in June?”

You don’t know what it was about his words that downed you. It was nothing but a simple question yet the only thing you could think of was: the first boy I’ve dated and so far, the only one, seems to have moved on quicker than I anticipated and while I’m still trying to build myself back up, I’m sitting in my kitchen looking at a wedding invitation and wallowing in self-pity because regardless of how hard I try, of how much I’ve amended my standards, no one seems to do it so what if this is it for me? What if this is just the way it’ll be from now on? And now, I’m resorting to lying just to make myself feel better but also put a façade in front of someone who I know no longer cares about me like that. And really, nor do I about him but here we are. So, nothing much is happening in June, Matthew. Hopefully we get a lot more sunshine though!

What you responded with instead was, “just an old friend of mine getting married and I need a plus one. Nothing serious. Just go there for an hour or two, say some hellos and leave. It’s a quick in-and-out thing.” 

More silence on the other end of the line other than the muffled shuffle of what sounded like bedsheets. “Why not ask your brother then?” 

“Asked him already, said he’s got something lined up already. So, are you free or not?” you lied, quickly pressing on even if you knew that sounded a lot like desperation.

“For you, at a price.” He was smirking. You knew he was and more than ever, you wished 2021 was the year you could just reach through the phone and shake the person on the other end. 

“Uh-huh. Right. No, just forget it. Forget I even—”

You were going to end the call when Matthew laughed, quickly calling out a “no, no! Nothing weird, I promise. Just owe me a favor in return, is all.” 

“Do I get a choice?” you mumbled, more to yourself than towards him.

“I think we both know that you don’t. Text me the time and place,” he instructed and then, just as you were really about to end the call, he added, “hey, send me a photo of what you’re wearing also. I’ll match my tie to your dress, free of charge.” 

“Can you maybe ditch the jacket while you’re at it? Just want to make sure your tie’s within reach so I can strangle you with it.”

Even after you cut the call, Matthew’s laughter rang in your ears. 

-

Matthew matched his tie to your red dress. The color of the silk around his neck was so striking, you would swear it was made from the same material as your outfit. You sent him a photo of the material of the dress, more as a joke than having any expectations attached to it so you were pleasantly surprised to see he made the effort. For a moment, you allowed yourself to bask in sheer joy knowing that to any eye, the two of you could easily pass as a couple. At least, from looks alone if not from attitude. You were a proud person; fiercely so. Knowing you were now in debt to Matthew however he saw fit dealt a pretty impressive blow to your ego. You don’t let yourself linger too much on that thought, though. It was already difficult enough to loosen up and relax your stance as you climbed into Matthew’s car as soon as he texted you of his arrival. 

“You look good,” he commented after you fixed the seatbelt on. He turned in his seat as much as space would allow so he could look at you properly and in return, you arched an eyebrow, refusing to give way to his stare. “Are you trying to one-up the bride?” 

“Ha, ha. Funny. You didn’t even see the bride. I didn’t even see the bride.” 

“Didn’t see her but I’m seeing you, so,” he shrugged, by way of explanation before correcting his position. 

If asked, you wouldn’t deny that Matthew also looked good. Very good. But only if asked. It was impossible that someone with a face like that didn’t know they turned heads easily wherever they went. Matthew’s suit fit him as if it was sown on him. If the two of you had a better relationship, you would even dare ask him what it was he was putting in that hair of his that made it so shiny and gave those curls so much definition, taming them almost perfectly when he really put his mind to it. Whatever it was, you had a feeling he didn’t strain as much as you had earlier that morning to tame your hair and though you could give yourself credit for how well it turned out, your arms weren’t thanking you for it. 

Thankfully, much of the drive was pleasant. Though you hated small talk, you decided to make an effort if only to ease your nerves as the navigation system indicated you were drawing closer and closer to that glitzy hotel. You learned that although the season was over, Matthew, Brady and the rest of the family would spend a few weeks in Canada before heading back home to St. Louis. In turn, you told him that some of the days off you booked from work would be spent somewhere just as sunny and warm but with more beaches. It was safe ground. That, you could do although progressively, you were becoming more and more distracted, and less focused on the conversation the two of you managed to keep. 

“Want me to pull over?” Matthew asked suddenly. 

“What,” you mumbled, turning your attention from the road ahead to Matthew who seemed amused by the situation. “Why would I want you to do that?” 

“I’d want you to do that. You look pretty pale and honestly, I’ve just had the interior cleaned so—”

“Fuck you, Tkachuk, keep driving. I’m just a little…cold. How high do you have the AC on?” 

He fixed you with a stare while waiting for the lights ahead to turn green, eyebrow arched. “It’s June, Y/N, and uncomfortably warm. If it makes you feel better, though, I could turn it off and we can roll down the windows instead?”

“No, sorry—you’re right. It’s fine. Just leave the AC as it is.” 

The laugh he gave was nothing short of incredulous. “Repeat that back for me. Actually—hold on, do that when I can press record on my phone so I can have that on repeat. Did you admit I’m right?” 

“God, you’re making me regret inviting you,” you muttered though without heat. 

An uncomfortable silence slipped between the two of you or maybe, it was just your perspective on it. Matthew seemed perfectly at ease minding the road, only occasionally throwing a cursory glance towards the car’s navigation system whenever it announced a turn. Doing this seemed more and more like a bad idea. A terrible one. No one would’ve held it against you if you denied the invitation. In fact, you thought that was more expected than accepting it and turning up to the party as if you were seeing an old friend, not an ex-boyfriend. It wasn’t too late though. Matthew could still turn the car around. 

“Listen, Matt—”

“You have now reached your destination. Your destination is on the right.”

You released a breath you weren’t even aware of holding, then threw a quick look towards the main entrance of the hotel. Already, a few guests whom you recognized were crossing into the lobby.

“You really don’t look okay at all,” Matthew repeated and there was less humor in his voice and more concern this time around. Even you weren’t ignorant to how much your mood kept fluctuating over the course of the drive: often, engaged in conversation but occasionally, withdrawn, barely just catching on to whatever it was Matthew was saying. Sure, he probably didn’t know you well enough to read you, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out something was amiss. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I felt like there’s more to this thing than you’re telling me. You could’ve asked your brother, yet you didn’t—” 

Damn it. You made him swear to play along. You made a quick mental note to get back at him about it whenever you felt energized enough to do so.

“Matthew,” you said, your voice suddenly clear, tone neutral. You didn’t dare look him in the eyes so instead, you kept your stare fixed on the revolving doors ahead. “I’m only going to say this once and I hope that you won’t make me repeat it now or ever again. I’d prefer that you don’t mention it to anyone either. The person getting married today is my ex-boyfriend. Up until last year, we’ve been together since we were teenagers. I loved him. Since we broke up, I kept trying to look for parts of him in others, but I couldn’t find even a trace of who he was. I feel as I’ve been jinxed, and I felt that maybe if I come today, maybe if I see him with someone else, I can confidently say I’m fine with that. It hurt my pride when I received the invitation, so my first thought was to lie. If, for just a few hours, I can pretend I’ve also moved on and I’m not stuck in this…fucking weird limbo, then maybe it becomes true. A fucked up self-prophecy. So.” You pause, clearing your throat. Your mouth suddenly felt dry from your speech, yet you couldn’t feel a pang of regret in your chest or heat behind your eyes. “So. If you want out, that’s fine. After all, I’m asking you to pretend to be my date out of spite, I guess. And embarrassment. It’s childish and unfair and ridiculous but—”

You came to a halt when you felt a finger under your chin, and a gentle upward push forced you to raise your head up a little more. When you turned towards Matthew, you looked at him with a look of confusion on your face. 

“Keep your head up. We have a wedding to go to.” 

His encouragement sunk in faster than expected and as your expression relaxed, a smile formed on your face. 

Yeah. The two of you had a wedding to go to. 

-

The event hall was decorated minimally yet tastefully. It made everything seem even more personal and you received that impression from every detail: from the flower arrangements to the music, everything was a testament to a life united by love. Maybe your emotional outburst earlier accounted for it, but you felt lighter even as you watched the newlyweds glide along the floor for their first dance. Sure, you felt a desperate pang of want but it was distant. Muffled. 

Despite your initial thoughts, having Matthew at your side felt very much like a safety cushion. It surprised you to watch him settle into his role with so much ease that eventually, even you didn’t have to remind yourself to not withdraw whenever his arm wrapped around your waist: sometimes loosely, sometimes a little tighter, reeling you in closer.

Fish, here is your bait, you thought wildly as you stood tucked at his side while he accepted flatteries from one of the guests who swore had been a fan of the Calgary Flames since before he could even talk.

“You must be so proud,” the man turned towards you. “Your family’s truly one of a kind to have all played for the team and now—” He gestures towards Matthew as if to say all of this. “Must be something about those Flames!” 

You laughed tightly, just as Matthew squeezed your side. By that move alone, you could tell he was eating this up. 

“Yeah, just can’t get enough of them,” you concluded, pitching your voice just a little higher towards the end. To the man, it was as genuine as could be, but Matthew cautioned you silently with the slightest narrowing of his eyes, effectively warning you to be more realistic. “Hey, I’ll get us some refills? Try to be a little more inconspicuous in the meantime. Remember this isn’t your day,” you joked. 

“Only practicing for when our turn comes,” Matthew responded without missing a beat and released the hold he had on you. 

Once at the bar, you allowed yourself some extra moments to catch your breath. Even off ice, Matthew was a force to be reckoned with. He struck conversation with others easily, drew their attention with seemingly little effort and easily set the mood for whatever situation or person the two of you would run into. A part of you thought his profession had a lot to do with his mannerism, but a bigger part knew different:  mostly, it was really just Matthew. 

He had a way with words and with people that you haven’t been witness to before and couldn’t help but wonder if it was all show. He was, after all, a face for the public: familiar with interviews, familiar with the attention, apparently not overwhelmed even by less conventional questions. Watching him play this role was fascinating to say the least. It certainly took your mind off the circumstances so credit where credit was due. 

“Hey, it’s good to see you here.” 

You turned from the bar and came face to face with Josh. His jacket was off, and his sleeves were neatly rolled up past his elbows; behind the knot of his tie, you could see he’d undone the top button of the collar. You’d seen him make countless rounds across the entire floor, greeting guests and ensuring everything was running smoothly. Occasionally, you watched him dance either with his wife, or family members, or even guests you recognized as work colleagues. 

You smiled. “Thanks for the invite. It was a bit weird to receive it, I can’t lie about that, but I’m glad you sent it.” It surprised you to learn you weren’t even lying about that. Through the course of the evening, it dawned on you that maybe, it was more the thought of being here that made you anxious; the event itself, however, proved just how right you were. It felt…fine. You felt fine.��

“Yeah—uh, I wasn’t… I wasn’t really sure but, well, before…” He trailed off into a sigh. 

You chuckled softly. “Would you like to buy a vowel?” 

That made him laugh. Truly, genuinely laugh. “Sorry. I guess it’s a bit weird for me also. But, well, before you and I were, well, you-and-I, we were friends. I would’ve hoped we’d still be friends even after…” He waved a hand in the air by way of explanation but that was sufficient for you.

“Won’t hurt to be friends. Whatever happened between us—well. Thing of the past. Build bridges and get over them, right?” 

“Right. Function of a bridge and all.”

“Hey. Congratulations, by the way! I’m happy for you. Really. I wish the two of you all the best. She seems really great.” 

“She is,” he agreed and cast a glance towards the room, eyes undoubtedly searching for her. “Are you—”

“Here you are.” 

Saved by the bell. A weight fell around your waist that, by now, was warm and familiar. Unconsciously, you leaned into Matthew, flashing a wide smile at Josh. At first, he seemed surprised by the sudden appearance but then his features settled into something more comfortable; something so much like relief that for a moment, you wished you could just come clean about it. You and Matthew were less than meets the eye.

Before you could even introduce them, a kiss was pressed to your cheek, knocking all air from your lungs and almost making you choke because of it.

What the hell.

“You were gone for some time, so I thought to check on you,” Matthew informed you, all matter of fact. To Josh, he said, “congratulations on the wedding. Must be pretty great to finally get to this point. You two look great together.” 

“Oh? Yeah. Yeah, thanks man. So glad you could come along today.” Josh turned to you, an eyebrow perked in interest. “I didn’t know you two were together.” 

“Oh we’re just—” 

You began but were promptly interrupted by Matthew. “We like to keep it lowkey. It hasn’t been that long for us but that’s not much of a problem when your gut tells you this is it. You know it well, right?”  

You were entirely caught off guard. Instead of responding immediately, you bought yourself some time by taking a sip from your glass of—whatever it was. Strong though. Just perfect for the situation you suddenly found yourself in: ex-boyfriend ahead, fake boyfriend to the side, promising sweet nothings that you knew would come back to haunt you at some ungodly hour. You wished you could step on his shoe; pull on those shiny curls of his real quick, knock some sense back into him. There was a difference between play a role well and clearly, playing it too well.

Matthew pushed ahead. “It’s pretty good timing for us though. We could take some notes for when our turn comes, right babe?” 

“I’ll let the two of you to it, then. Thanks again for coming.” Josh made a move to step away but before he did, he turned to you and caught your eyes. “I’m really happy for you, Y/N. You look good together. Just make sure you don’t take too many notes.”

“Wouldn’t dream to,” Matthew responded, and you could read the slight bite in his words. When Josh was out of earshot, he looked down at you. “You dated him? Just him?” 

“Hey, what’d I say about not bringing that up again? And save your dick measuring contests for the locker room, Tkachuk. Now’s not the time nor place.” 

“Now’s definitely the time and place,” he countered, making you roll your eyes but there was a smile on your face you couldn’t quite wipe off. “Come on. Let’s continue taking leaves out of their book.” In one swift motion, he took the glass from your hand and set it on the bar while above, the LED lights dimmed, and the playlist switched to a slower song. 

You threw him a cautious look, easily reading where that was going. “I’m not dancing.”

“Sure, you are. You want to give the impression of being happily in love? You need to start pulling your weight in this thing.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, Atlas. Do your shoulders hurt from carrying the burden of our relationship?” you mocked, yet still allowed him to lead you towards the dance floor. Right in the center of it given the bride and groom appeared to sit this one out; you expected nothing less from him. You weren’t even surprised when he made an entire show out of it, forcing you to do a pirouette when the two of you claimed your spot. 

“You can’t even imagine the pain you put me through,” he sighed near your ear as the two of you began swaying to the music. 

“Well, you’re still standing so clearly it can’t be that bad.” 

“Baby, it’s torture.” 

You were grateful the two of you weren’t exactly face to face or you were sure Matthew would never have let you live down the flush you felt rising to your cheeks. Sure, he didn’t use the pet name in a genuine manner, but just hearing it roll off his tongue like that… You stopped that thought before it grew into a whole new different monster. 

After a few moments of silence passed, Matthew lowered his head closer to yours, his warm breath colliding with the skin on your throat. “Do you think now’s the right time to kiss? Are enough people watching?” 

You stepped on his foot. Not hard, but just with the right amount of pressure to draw a wince from him. Satisfied, you leaned back just a little to look at him properly. “Don’t even think about it, Tkachuk—”

“Thought about it already.”

Through clenched teeth, you hissed, “you. Are. Incorrigible.” 

He raised his eyebrows, surprised. “If only you could meet yourself.” 

You snickered quietly then leaned back against him. “Thanks for doing this. I know it’s not the most convenient of things… and it wasn’t fair to tell you the full truth of it right on the day of. But—well, thanks.”

“That sounds like it was pretty difficult to let out. It’s very…. heartfelt.” 

“Just fucking accept it as I gave it to you, Tkachuk,” you complained, more amused than annoyed.

More silence followed, filled in only by the general buzz of the room and the slow melody. “And now?” Matthew questioned a short while later. You allowed an extended silence to fill in for your confusion. He picked up on it within seconds. “Do you still feel jinxed? Stuck in the same place while he goes on ahead in life?” 

You took some time to think through your answer, time during which the song faded into yet another slow one. Matthew didn’t give an indication of wanting to move away from the dancefloor, so you saw no purpose in you doing that. 

“Not really,” you concluded. “Just seems like we’re both following different trajectories. Doesn’t mean I’m left behind if I’ve not yet met someone to settle down with like he did. Maybe I just need to be here to come to terms with it. Good for him though. I’m genuinely happy for him and his wife. I think lots of people imagine going through this very same moment.” You ended with a shrug but then, to lighten up the moment, you added, “don’t mock me for it. Between the two of us, I’m the one with the pointy shoes.” 

Matthew laughed, a low, pleasant laugh right by your ear. “I’ll give you a free pass for what’s left of today.” 

“Your generosity astounds me. Please could you also sign my jersey?” 

“Is it my jersey?” 

“Why would it be your jersey when I have my last name printed out on one at the expense of my brother being roughed up a little?” 

“Don’t tempt me. That favor you now owe me? I might just use it to have you get my jersey so I can sign it since you so generously asked.” 

“Your call,” you shrugged. “Just know it’s going straight in the wash right after you scribble on it.” 

Matthew took a few small steps back, only to pull you back towards him. You played along and spun as you landed into his hold once again.

“You say that now, but when you’ll see yourself with it—”

“I’ll auction it on eBay.” 

The laugh you got out of Matthew stayed with you through the rest of the night and like never before, his good disposition easily transferred to you.

two.

When the elevator doors slid open, your brother and Johnny weren’t the only ones to step into the hotel lobby. Matthew accompanied them, flashing a smug smile as the trio approached and his eyes landed on you. You cast a quizzical glance from your brother, to Johnny, to Matthew and then looked towards Anna as if to ask are you seeing this? She only shrugged at you in silent response, though she was grinning from ear to ear. At least someone was certainly enjoying this.

“Last I remember, there were only two of you,” you commented.

“Was that before or after your third drink?” your brother chirped back.

Instead of humoring him, you shift your gaze to Matthew. “What gives, Tkachuk? Can’t be left at home unsupervised during family vacations?” 

“My house training has only gone so far,” he responded smartly, then nodded his head towards Anna and Johnny who were caught in a half-hug, apparently entertaining by watching you and Matthew bicker as if watching a tennis match. “They’re not family.” 

Anna feigned a gasp on your behalf. “Y/N and I are part and parcel, Matt. Thought you’d know that by now.” 

“Well, the three of us are part and parcel also, Anna. Thought you’d definitely know that by now,” he responded but you were already leading the way out of the hotel lobby and towards the busy square outside.

It was a hub of activity: from street vendors to dance and music performers, there was something to see regardless of which way you looked. Although you arrived at your holiday destination the previous day, the flight south coupled with the warm, sticky evening made you want to steer away from the busier parts of the town. Instead, you opted to lounge by the pool with Anna, having perhaps one too many cocktails to kickstart your vacation. Perhaps you missed Matthew’s arrival at some point then, though for the life of you, you couldn’t remember anyone mentioning he’d come along also. Not that it bothered you greatly.

Since the time you asked him to be your plus one some few weeks ago, the relationship between the two of you warmed slightly. Sure, he still knew which buttons to press to get a reaction out of you, but you saw it as being less ill-intended and more good-natured fun. You kept up with him easily and whenever it felt as if he was cornering you, you conceded with a roll of your eyes but never admitted defeat. You didn’t consider the two of you friends, but something changed on the day of the wedding right around the time you had spilled out your feelings about the entire deal to him. Looking back on it, you found it strange just how easily you did that, no second thoughts, no wishing for takebacks. You knew you owed him the truth given the position you put him in without plenty of heads-up, but you could’ve easily just simplified the entire thing. 

It wasn’t difficult to stick together as a group but eventually, you wandered off towards a few stalls on your own that have caught your eye. Though you wanted some more time to have Anna to yourself, it was technically her first vacation with Johnny. You could catch up with her later in the room; surely, she’d have even more swooning to do over him by then. Not that you blamed her. Johnny was an incredible guy. 

First, you stopped at a stall selling a range of baked goods that you simply couldn’t turn away from. And for good reason: the sour cherry churro you settled for was a dream come true. From there, you strolled towards a few small stores selling a range of products ranging from colorful graphic tees to earrings made from vibrant, colorful gemstones. You held a blue pair next to your ear, turning one way then another to watch as the light reflected off the gleaming gem. 

“Those suit your complexion,” the attendant commented and when you looked towards him, he smiled bashfully. 

A gentle heat crept up your neck, unable to keep the grin off your face but you couldn’t look away from him: his skin was lightly tanned, and a dusting of freckles covered the bridge of his nose and upper cheeks. His blond hair was messy in a way you could easily tell was styled to appear as such. He was cute in a sort of conventional way, but you liked the way he smiled at you, all shy but certainly genuine.

“Funny you say that. I always had a feeling blue was my color,” you responded, and his smile widened. 

“Here for vacation?” he asked. 

You nodded. “Yeah, I just got here yesterday, and I’ll be around for a few days,” you added, a little hopeful. 

Hey, if you could score some good company while in the area, then you weren’t going to turn down the opportunity to flirt a little and make good with someone more local.

“Good. That’s really good to know.” He regarded you for a moment and you were certain that caused your blush to deepen though at the same time, it made you feel a little…exposed. “Hey, are you free—”

“The red ones are nicer.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut, frustration quickly replacing the feeling of near euphoria. You could recognize that voice anywhere. Of all times he could have run into you, the universe fixed it so he popped up when you least needed that to happen. 

“I prefer the blue,” you countered, then held them up against your ear again though you knew you didn’t need to double check if they suited you. 

“No, trust me with the red,” Matthew insisted, and you saw him appear behind you in the small circular mirror you were looking into. He was so close. “Goes well with that little number I got you the other day.” 

You sputtered. “W-what?! Stop messing—”

In the mirror Matthew’s eyes flicked from you to the attendant. “Yeah, you know the one. I left the box on the bed in our room, thought to surprise—”

“Tkachuk, just shut up. There isn’t an our room—”

This was so painfully uncomfortable. So frustratingly annoying, you felt the blood warm in your veins, that familiar wave of anger coursing through your body.

“I’ll ring those up for you,” the attendant said, his voice carefully polite while he accepted the red earrings from Matthew’s outstretched hand. 

You hated him. Passionately hated him. It was easy for Matthew to play games like those because he could easily get just about anyone, but you? It wasn’t quite as easy to not be a pro-athlete who had pretty much everything lined up and going for them. You tried catching the store attendant’s eyes again but he was busy accepting the cash from Matthew after packing away the earrings in a small paper bag. You knew he wouldn’t catch sight of it, but it didn’t stop you from casting a longing, apologetic glance towards him before leaving the store. 

It felt as if for every two steps you took, Matthew only needed one and despite the crowds, he caught up with you easily, holding out the bag towards you while you powered ahead. 

“Come on, don’t be mad. The red ones are definitely better than the blue ones,” Matthew tried to reason with you while holding the hand stretched out to you, insistent on his offer. When you didn’t respond and instead, tried to rush further ahead, Matthew pressed on. Him managing to keep up with your pace only added fuel to the fire. “Don’t tell me you’re upset over Ron Jon back there.” 

You came to a halt, turning to glare up at him. “I am, Matthew. You didn’t need to do what you did back there. There was no reason for it. It was shitty of you, and I need you to back off while I try to enjoy the rest of my night.” You clenched your jaw, trying to suppress the overwhelming feeling of anger that normally resulted in tears. “You could at least pretend to be sorry about it.” 

With that, you turned on your heel and squeezed your way through the crowds, ignoring Matthew’s calls to stop and come back and that he was only joking. 

Too late for that, you thought bitterly, making a turn towards a street popular for its dining and bar venues. 

-

The part of the archipelago more popular with tourists was truly a sight to behold as the sun went down, coloring the sky in some of the warmest, most calming shades of orange, red and yellow you ever saw. It seemed as if everyone gathered on the promenade, phones at the ready while taking photos of the sky, selfies and group shots. Even you couldn’t resist it and after taking a few well-centered selfies, a passing couple offered to take your photo which you immediately posed for. 

Later, once the sight sunk in, you moved towards a nearby bar, first attracted by the pink, purple and blue neon lights and then, the music. A good cocktail, good music and a gorgeous sunset were all it took for you to feel more relaxed, leaving behind the event from earlier. He wouldn’t be the first cute guy you’d see, nor the last and indeed, it was easy for you to settle in the more crowded area of the locale where people were dancing either solo, with a partner or as part of a group.

Not long after you weaved your way onto the dancefloor, you felt a pair of hands settle on your hips, drawing you in. You went easily, accepting the embrace, accepting the way you were being led into the dance, swaying your hips along with his. You didn’t even miss a beat when he spun you around, but you kept your hands pressed against his shoulders, rather than wrapping your arms around his neck. You were tipsy, no doubt, and admittedly felt touch-starved but you weren’t quite in the mood for anything more. You even dodged his mouth when he tipped his head down to your lips so instead, he landed a kiss on your cheek. Still, he was pretty relentless. The dance took a turn that was significantly more sensual, crossing a line into discomfort, and you felt that was your cue to try and remove yourself from him. It was easy initially. You threw him a small smile and when he caught hold of your hand, you simply motioned you were only going to get a drink, hoping that would keep him where he was with the knowledge you would return. 

When you finally pulled away, you made a bee line towards the exit of the venue but again, you were a step too slow. The guy caught you just at the door.

“Where are you running off to, pretty?” he slurred, his voice louder above the thumping of the music. 

“Oh—Um, just getting a breath of fresh air, is all,” you said quickly and immediately wished you didn’t venture off in a place like this alone. It was as if you suddenly forgot everything that was common sense, pushed towards it by earlier frustration. 

“Doesn’t look like it to me.” He frowned, but there was no clarity in his eyes. He was entirely out of it and his fingers squeezed painfully around your wrist. You flinched visibly, squirming under his touch and even if you tried pulling your arm away, it was useless. He overpowered you even through the drunken haze. “Wanna go? Fine, then let’s go together.” 

“No—uh, I’m actually here with my friends. I’ve just—I saw them so I’m going to catch up with them. They must be looking for—”

“Then we can go to them together, sweetheart. Here, point them out to me.”

“No, really. I’m going to them alone,” you emphasized and put all your force into trying to free your hand. It may have taken him by surprise that led to his loosened grip, but as soon as you turned on your heel, you found out there was more to it than just that.

You almost faceplanted right into Matthew’s chest when you tried making a run for it. He stood there, eyes flicking between you and the guy with an unreadable expression on his face. Your heart was hammering wildly in your chest and instinctively, you almost glued yourself to his side. It wasn’t the first time someone tried to force a move on you, but it was the first time it was done so in such a thoughtless, drunken manner. Perhaps your fear was also enhanced by being alone in an unfamiliar place. To see Matthew this time felt like a blessing.

“Babe,” Matthew said by way of greeting, pulling you to him when he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. 

You didn’t realize you were trembling until you stood so close to him, legs suddenly feeling like jelly in front of your salvation. Matthew could easily overpower the guy; even if they were roughly the same height, there was a big difference between the body of an athlete and the swaying one of a drunk guy. Still, it didn’t mean you wanted Matthew to get caught up in anything he’d later regret or would affect him in any way, so you pressed a hand to his chest trying to put some pressure into guiding him away from the scene.

“She yours?” the drunk guy slurred, head tilting back, chin pointing towards your general direction.

“Yeah. So, guess that makes the situation even worse for you,” Matthew responded. His tone was light, seemingly non-threatening to someone who didn’t know him but you did. You knew him and you could read him crystal clear in this moment. 

“Matthew, please,” you muttered, looking at him almost desperately while trying to put all your body weight into guiding him away. 

The guy scoffed. “You’ve gotta do better than that, buddy.” He snickered. “You’ve gotta keep ‘em on a tighter leash unless you want them to go—”

Matthew made a move towards him, but you quickly stepped in front of him, essentially forcing him to halt. “Matt, please. Let’s go, okay? Please. I really want to leave. Right now.” 

He glared at the guy for a moment longer but the hard look in his eyes softened as soon as his gaze fell on you. You took the liberty of placing most of your weight against Matthew, allowing him to remove both of you from the situation and towards a less crowded area. That was easy to find: with the sun having long set, most of the crowds cleared away from the promenade so there was plenty of space for you to collect yourself in peace. 

He didn’t pry into the situation, didn’t even make any smartass comments. Instead, he let you slip away from under the safety of his arm while you pace around a small area, trying to work off the anxiety as much as you could. You had to count your breaths, remind yourself to breathe in then out slowly. You were okay. You were far from that guy, and he couldn’t hurt you. At least, no more than he already did. Your wrist felt a bit sore, but you’d take that over anything worse. 

“You okay?” Matthew asked at last, tone careful. “I can go back there and pull him out, you know, get him to apologize.”

“No!” you said loudly, desperately, then cleared your throat and lowered your voice. “No, don’t go. Please. I just need a moment, that’s all. Just a little. Could you not leave? I’ll be fine in a moment. Just—just need to catch my breath—"

“Hey, hey—relax. It’s over. He can’t put a hand down on you now, or ever.” Matthew took a few steps closer to you as if apprehensive to approach you in the first place. You knew what you must’ve looked like: pale, still shaken by what happened. He held a hand towards you, palm up. “Can I touch you?” 

You looked from it to his face, then said, “don’t get any funny ideas,” but it lacked your usual punch. You took his hand though, letting yourself be drawn to him. Matthew smelled like the sea. You couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he’d gone down to the beach earlier to take a dip. You wished you did that rather than try and drink your frustration over missing out on a random guy. God, you could sleep right here if sleeping while standing was a thing. “I’m sorry for reacting the way I did before—with, uh—what did you call him?” 

Matthew chuckled, a low, deep chuckle. “Ron Jon.” 

“You’re awful, Tkachuk.”

“And you have a funny way of expressing gratitude.” 

“Sorry—”

He laughed louder. “I’m messing with you.” A pause, and then, “I’m sorry I rained on your parade earlier with the guy back then. If you really liked him…” He trailed off, as if to let you fill in the sentence for him.

You laughed weakly, waving a hand dismissively. “Thanks. Again. Seems like nowadays, I just keep having to thank you for one thing or the other.” 

You felt him shrug. “Fine by me. You keep adding to these favors you owe me.” 

“It’s only one. Well. Two if you want to be a dick and count this one too.” 

You took a step back, detaching yourself from him to run both hands through your hair. You felt exhausted, drained of energy yet relieved. Who would’ve thought you’d be pleased to see Matthew pull another one of his appearing out of the blue acts?

“You give me no other choice but to be one,” he joked. “Come on, let’s go back to the hotel. Everyone’s wondering where you were, so you kind of lost your right to vote on dinner for tonight.” 

You sighed heavily. “Let me guess: you all ganged up on me in my absence and settled on lobster?” 

Matthew grinned. “Can’t vacation in a seaside town and skip out on that.” 

“Ugh. Sea critters.” You pulled a face, drawing yet another laugh from Matthew. It made you feel oddly accomplished but you cut that train of thought there, forcing it to derail elsewhere, to place more familiar to you, more comfortable. “Matthew, I mean it when I said thank you. That was—it was scary,” you admitted as the two of you started walking back towards the hotel. You pulled your wrist into your hand, rubbing at the skin gently. Focused on the road ahead, you missed Matthew frowning down at the gesture. “I don’t know how that happened. It’s just—it’s not my thing to do. Go out alone, especially in a place like that. Good instincts by the way,” you tried to joke but it fell flat.

“Don’t mention it,” he said, voice tight. “I don’t want to think about it again if I can help it.” 

You cast a confused stare in his direction but by then, it was his turn to look ahead, a frown marring his features. You didn’t push any further though. 

Later that night, after you and Anna decided to call it a day and switch off the lights, you lay in bed glancing a look up at the ceiling above. You didn’t think back on the evening’s events but rather, thought back to how a familiar small brown paper bag was taped to your room’s door before dinner. Anna had fixed you with a knowing stare as you plucked it off the door, tipping its contents into the palm of your hand. 

Then, you thought how during dinner, Matthew had claimed the seat next to yours and complimented the earrings you wore, remarking how awfully familiar they seemed though he could swear he didn’t know where from. For the first time, you had an inside joke to share with him and neither of you bothered to offer any clarifications to everyone else around the table as they tried to press for details. 

three.

The Flames’ first game of the season was scheduled to take place in Las Vegas and with a few days left of vacation, you couldn’t skip on the opportunity to return to the city you were inexplicably fond of, as well as watching your brother play on the third line. The night promised to be unforgettable, and you wouldn’t miss it for the world. Although there were plenty of things to keep you busy throughout the day, your eyes would occasionally wander down to your watch, counting down the hours until the start of the game. It seemed like most of the city was doing the same.

Often, you’d spot handfuls of people donning Knights jerseys and occasionally, there would be a few Flames fans wandering the streets and locales. You’d only spotted one person wearing your brother’s jersey but that was more than enough for you – he was a fairly new face in the professional league, but he certainly pulled his weight during every shift he had on ice whenever given the opportunity. Luckily, you managed to take a quick photo of their back before they disappeared into the crowds, sending it to your brother along with a thumbs-up emoji. 

He didn’t respond immediately, nor did you expect him to. You could only imagine how quickly he racked up pre-game nerves and he had a pretty strict routine, which included avoiding his phone until after the game. You couldn’t really make sense of superstitions even if each member of your family who played, whether professionally or otherwise, had their own. Naturally, you were surprised when your phone pinged, indicating a new message almost half an hour later. Except, it wasn’t quite who you were expecting.

Matthew is that your way of saying good luck?

You frowned, but all it took was a little more attention on your part to notice you hadn’t sent the message to your brother but rather, to Matthew. Lately, he was one of your top contacts for frequent messaging.

You wrong number

You good luck to you too though, i guess :/ 

Matthew busy?

You don’t you have practice to get to?

Matthew [attachment: photo of an ice rink where a few players were captured in motion]

Matthew [attachment: photo of his skates, taken from the players’ bench]

Matthew on break, where are you?

You hanging around

Matthew what are you wearing? 

You [emoji: middle finger] 

Matthew ice cold

Matthew nice, i can handle ice cold

You then go handle ice cold so you don’t get handled tonight

Matthew wish me luck too

You i already did

Matthew i need it twice, it’s my superstition 

You that’s a bullshit superstition

Matthew if we lose tonight, it’s on you

You [emoji: angry face]

You good luck!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Matthew :) 

You dropped your phone on the table with a low groan, slouching in your chair. From across the table, Anna shot you a confused stare which quickly morphed into understanding when you rolled your eyes, shooting your phone a look of frustration as if the device itself was to blame. 

“Anything interesting?” she asked in a singsong tone. 

“If you count Matthew being his usual self interesting, then that’s what’s up. Otherwise, nothing new.”

“By his usual self, do you mean engaging? Funny? Witty? So good with his words that he yet again takes your attention and keeps it while the rest of us, mere mortals, struggle to do that for longer than a few minutes tops?” 

You arched an eyebrow, somewhat amused. “All that – just empty words.” 

Anna leaned back in her seat, taking her glass with her while twirling the straw, looking ahead somewhat thoughtfully. “You know what the two of you remind me of? Those two kids in the playground who think love can only be expressed through pulling hair and making snide remarks.” 

“First of all, that’s a shitty way of trying to get someone to realize you have feelings for them and second of all, love is a pretty big word. You managing to carry it okay?” 

“Okay, maybe not love. But like? It has to be like. Say what you want to say but it looks different from the outside.” 

“Okay, you keep staying out there and let me know what you’re seeing. I like your imagination. Very vivid,” you commented but there was no bite to your words and Anna threw her head back with laughter. 

You didn’t think much of your exchange with Matthew throughout the rest of the day, nor did you try to linger too long on Anna’s interpretation of your relationship with Matthew. You let it wash over you, knowing it’d give her too much satisfaction if you fretted too much over it and anyway, many of your thoughts seemed to fly towards the evening’s game. 

By the time the two of you made your way to the arena, however, you moved from anxiety to excitement within the space of mere moments, apparently. Even if this wasn’t your first rodeo and you’d been to countless games before, there was nothing quite like the thrill of an opening game. You and Anna had spaces reserved in the upper stands along with other family members and significant others but both of you chose to watch the warm-ups close-up, so you hung around by the glass at ice level. 

The Vegas Knights and the Flames stepped on the ice to a combination of cheers and the thump of a loud electronic mix. You spotted your brother almost instantly. He did a quick lap around the team’s half of the ice before pulling a puck towards him with his stick, sliding it this way and that before shooting it over towards the net. Once sufficiently warmed up, he cast a searching look around the rink and you quickly waved both arms up in the air to try and get his attention. You knew he’d spotted you, but he made an entire show out of looking over you until you smacked a hand against the panel. You knew the sound wouldn’t be heard over the general noise of the arena, but he still laughed. When he skated over, you held your phone up, giving it a quick shake and mouthing “selfie?”. 

He flashed a thumbs up and you quickly turned around to take the photo, but it wasn’t until you inspected it afterwards that you noticed you were photobombed by Matthew himself. You had every intention to look up from the screen and somehow try and get his attention only to glare at him, but he was a step ahead. You almost jumped out of your skin when you noticed Matthew standing right there by the glass, smirking at you.

“Asshole,” you mouthed, not daring to voice it out given you were surrounded by kids.

Matthew winked, skated to collect a stray puck then threw it up over the boards towards one of the kids standing right next to you. The kid was clearly thrilled by the gesture, bouncing up and down with the puck held over his head as if it were a trophy. You couldn’t help it: your heart melted at the sight, so you simply nodded once at Matthew, apparently just in time as the warm-up countdown reached zero.

You weren’t surprised the home team were putting on such a show for the opening night. There was a little bit of Vegas in every opening act: from the fireworks set off outside the arena to the showgirls and mind-blowing animations projected down on the ice, it felt more of a Stanley Cup playoff game than the start of a regular season game. This was Vegas and no one did it quite like Vegas did, you had to give that to them. 

Both teams were almost evenly balanced throughout the first period but stepping out of intermissions and into the second, the Flames started powering ahead. It was as if something had clicked together even better and they functioned as a well-oiled machine, both in offence and defense. By the end of that period, they were leading the Knights 3-2 and you were more than elated your brother had earned himself an assist. Like all games, tensions formed quickly, and the third period saw both teams play aggressively. On several occasions, you caught sight of players clearly chirping each other even while heading towards their respective benches after the end of a shift. Once, Matthew seemed to be involved in a seemingly endless yelling match with a player on the opposing team. There were more checks against the panels, an impressive number of penalties drawn by both teams, and it felt as if the atmosphere was just tethering towards a fight.

It happened right after the Flames scored the fourth goal with just two minutes left of the game. 

The moment the puck was dropped at center ice, you watched as Matthew charged ahead towards one of the Knights players who didn’t hesitate to drop the gloves. Between them, Matthew had the faster instinct, and he landed the first punch, effectively forcing both players to fall to the ice while the referees scrambled to try and split them apart. They were there a moment too late, just mere seconds after you caught sight of knuckles scraping along Matthew’s mouth on the big screens above. At first, it seemed to be nothing more than a graze but once he was separated and made his way towards the Flames bench, you noticed several spots of blood on his jersey on the screens above that made you almost jump out of your seat.

Sure, this was a familiar sight, but it didn’t alleviate the sheer shock and restlessness. Whatever had happened between them must’ve been a pretty big deal to set Matthew off the way it did. There was no way of sugarcoating it: the fight was vicious. More than ever, you wanted the period countdown to reach zero so you could go down to the lockers. It wasn’t just a few nagging feelings towards Matthew that led you to react the way you did. He was a friend, after all, so worrying for him was simply natural. An expected way of responding to a situation like that. 

“He had it worse before, remember?” Anna reminded you as you followed the small stream of relatives and friends down towards the players’ rooms.

“Still looked pretty bad to me,” you responded, briefly pulling your lower lip between your teeth. Before she could continue being the voice of reason, you added in a light tone, “I just want to see if he had any teeth knocked out of his mouth this time around.”

It took some time before the players filed out and as you watched them come out one by one, you almost wished you saved this for somewhere less…well, public. Sure, you were just a friend checking on a friend, but you wished you could do that without an audience. 

Your brother emerged first, beaming, no doubt pleased with the win, and you hugged him tightly, easily sharing his joy. 

“He’s just getting ready to come out now,” he informed you, heading nodding back towards the locker.

You blinked. “What? Oh—no, I’m just. I was waiting for you to say congratulations. What are you even talking about,” you mumbled but inevitably, your eyes were drawn towards the locker room as the door swung open and Matthew stepped out.

His hair was still damp but already curling again. He was dressed in the same suit he probably arrived in, a simple light grey number that fit him perfectly. He had his backpack on also and in one hand, he carried an apparently ice-cold bottle of water while the other was pressing an ice pack to the corner of his mouth. When you made eye contact, he frowned lightly and for a moment, seemed almost hesitant to approach you. This time, you were a step ahead and cornered him before he decided to walk away.

You nodded your head once, indicating in his general direction. “What? You’re trying to add to the family’s hefty dentist bill by getting a few teeth knocked out already?”

Matthew shrugged. “It’s not hockey without a few scraps now and then.”

“For a guy who got a goal and an assist, you sure don’t look too pleased with that.” 

At that comment, Matthew’s expression shifted, lightening up considerably. “Are you keeping track of my stats now?”

“What? No, Tkachuk. I was doing what everyone else in that arena was doing: paying attention generally speaking.” 

Suddenly, his entire face scrunched up in pain and he almost doubled over as he groaned. Instinctively, you reached out for him, eyes widening a little when bending down a little to try and look at his face. 

“Oh my god—Matthew. Are you okay? Do you need me to get a medic to check—” 

You frowned as soon as you felt his shoulders tremble under your touch. Slowly, it dawned on you he was laughing. Laughing. You slapped his shoulder lightly, the gesture more a tap than anything else and you started walking down the corridor quickly, trying to catch up with everyone else as they filed out of the arena. 

“Hey, hey, wait, Y/N! Come on, don’t be mad,” he called out after you and you heard him jog to catch up with you. When he did, he took a couple more steps ahead then stepped in your path, walking backwards to match your pace. “I was only messing around. I couldn’t not do that. You should’ve seen your face, honestly.” 

“My face? Hope you’ve seen yours. I’m not mad. Me being mad would basically mean you managed to get to me which you really didn’t, so don’t give yourself any credit, Tkachuk,” you responded. “You just reminded me you’re still a dick so thanks for that.” 

“Give me a free pass. I’m injured.” 

“If you’re searching for sympathy, you’re looking for it in the wrong place,” you informed him, side stepping him so that he resumed walking at your side instead. After a few moments of silence, you conceded with a sigh. “Seriously speaking. How’s your mouth?”

“Don’t think I’ll need fillers, let’s just say.” He removed his hand from his mouth, and you looked over. 

Thankfully, it seemed that putting ice on it quickly was paying off. The area was somewhat red, but no significant damage seemed to be visible to the untrained eye. He was certainly miles better than he was just months ago. 

“Looks okay, I guess,” you shrugged. “What happened? Honestly, it looked pretty intense from the outside.” 

Matthew didn’t respond and you didn’t press him for details even after you stepped out into the balmy Vegas night. If he chose to not share with you, then you guessed it must’ve been either pretty personal or pretty stupid. You leaned more towards the former. You didn’t even complain when he followed you to the car you hired, claiming the passenger seat. Before you also stepped inside, a message pinged in from Anna informed you she had taken off with Johnny for dinner but promised to be back in the room in a few to catch up.

You didn’t start the engine when you fixed your seatbelt and instead, leaned your head back against the rest, watching a few other vehicles pull out of the car park. In his seat, Matthew was looking out of the window to his left, heading resting against a loosely formed fist propped up against the door. 

“He was talking shit about you,” he said at last, but didn’t turn to you when he spoke. 

“Who was?” 

“The guy on the other team. He made a comment about you towards your brother at the end of the shift. Something about… I don’t know, something crude, vulgar. Don’t really remember it.” 

You didn’t quite believe him on the last part, but you allowed it anyway. “Okay… Well, I don’t know the guy anyway, so it didn’t matter, Matthew. You should have let it slip by or left my brother to deal with it.” Then, out of curiosity, you asked, “why didn’t you?”

More silence. Occasionally, the muffled sound of a passing car would cut through it but it, too, would be gone in seconds.

“Because I couldn’t.”

You pursed your lips and your fingers clenched then unclenched in your lap. You placed your hands on the steering wheel, then dropped them away before settling them back on it after starting the engine. 

“Thanks, I guess. You just keep making me owe you favors.”

“You don’t owe me—”

“So, I’ll clear that now with dinner. Just please don’t tell me you’re going to need to be on a smoothie diet. I’ll feel bad eating something really good while you’re there with a strawberry and banana drink. Not that I’d stop eating though, just so you know. But it’s the thought that counts,” you said and finally, finally he chuckled quietly. 

“No smoothie diets this time.”

You sighed dramatically. “Maybe no smoothie diets ever?”

Matthew shrugged. He was still not meeting your eyes but that was okay. “Can’t promise that. Kind of comes with the job. Just in case though, I like the sweeter stuff more. Triple chocolate, Oreo pieces, peanut butter.” 

“Thanks, Matthew. I’ll file that under information I don’t care to know about.” 

“I’m injured. Show some sympathy,” he demanded without heat, finally turning to you. 

You cooed then reached out with one of your hands to pat his cheek lightly. “Aw, really searching for it in the wrong place.”

“I’ll make do with what I can get,” he allowed, and you could swear he leaned into your touch, but you tore your hand away before either of you got too comfortable. 

four.

Matthew called in his favor after a few of his teammates agreed where to host their Halloween party. 

“Kind of sounds like you’re the one asking for a favor,” you commented, planting yourself at your kitchen table while securing the phone between your ear and shoulder.

Matthew sighed on the other end. “Sort of. Who does a themed Halloween party anyway? The theme itself is Halloween.” 

“You’re not wrong about that. Could be fun though, a bit more unique. So, what’s the theme for this year?” 

“Couple outfits,” Matthew replied without hesitation. 

You stilled and were grateful he wasn’t in the same room as you. It took you a great deal more energy over the course of the past few months to convince yourself that Matthew didn’t attract you in one way or another. His looks aside, it was rare you came across someone who could easily keep up with your snide remarks and the more you got to know him, the more you realized that there was more to Matthew than just being a typical athlete with his share of well-deserved fame. He was funny, dedicated and undoubtedly, caring. You had some first-hand experience with the latter. After all, he didn’t owe you anything to make him obligated to jump into whatever weird situation you found yourself in.

You warmed to him little by little. If you found him attractive, well that was for you alone to know though it made everything just that more difficult. Thankfully, Matthew seemed pretty oblivious to it or at least, he was doing a good job at pretending he didn’t catch you staring at him on several occasions or the few times you took a discrete step back if it felt like you were too close to him. Knowing he was asking you to go together as a couple (pretend couple, you corrected yourself) only added to the difficulty of coming to terms with your…crush. 

Puppy love, you assured yourself. It’ll go as quickly as it came. 

“Y/N?”

“Sorry, still here. Guess it sucks another year will go by without the opportunity to bring out your Fortnite costume.”

“Oh, come on. I wouldn’t dress like a game character!”

“Matthew,” you warned.

There was a pause, then, “okay, fine. Maybe I would. So, can you come?” 

You shrugged, then remembered he couldn’t see it. “I owe it to you, don’t I?”

“Great! Hey, choose something good for us. There’s going to be a prize for best dressed and I have my eyes on it.”

“I think we can both agree my creativity will not let us down. I’ll text you my idea. You just make sure you actually stick to it, so I don’t end up looking stupid.”

“Don’t worry,” he started, “I won’t dump you on Halloween.”

“Good to know I won’t end up traumatized and have my favorite holiday ruined,” you said, by way of goodbye.

-

“Hey, spin around for me once. You look good. Blonde’s not bad on you.” 

“No color’s bad on me,” you responded but refused to entertain Matthew by complying with his request. Instead, you rang the bell to Noah’s apartment after the door didn’t budge when Matthew tried the handle. 

“Come on, just a spin,” Matthew insisted, nudging his elbow into your own then pressed the doorbell himself once again – hard, as if that would make it ring louder.

“Only if you dance for me and do the entire Greased Lightning choreography without missing a step.” 

Matthew feigned a groan and you shot him an amused look. Before you could even comment on that, the door opened, and Noah stood at the threshold. The ruckus from inside spilled out into the corridor and from what you could see beyond him, it was a full house of all sorts of characters. 

“Wow! Sandy and Danny! Finally, someone with really good taste,” Noah said by way of greeting and he looked towards you pointedly. 

You flashed him a grin. “Always a pleasure to exceed expectations,” you responded and stepped into his open arms, a clear invitation for an embrace that was shortly broken apart by Matthew.

“Hey, none of that man,” he said, pulling you back and easily holding most of your weight as you broke into a laugh that had you stumbling into his side. “I didn’t even get to tell her she’s the one that I want.” 

“Yeah, well, you better shape up ‘cause I need a man,” you responded, without missing a beat though you couldn’t help but replay his words in your mind. They sounded a lot like a broken record that you desperately wished to stop immediately before this…thing went way too far and spun out of control.  

You were both led towards a photo wall and if you had any nerves about striking good poses without at least some liquid courage first, all that vanished. To your surprise, Matthew easily took the lead initially, falling to his knees in front of you in an attempt to recreate the part where a smitten Danny fell before Sandy, completely and utterly overwhelmed by her presence. Despite it being difficult to control your laughter, you played along with ease. At first, you were simply grinning down at him but you couldn’t let all his in-character effort go to waste, so you turned, casting a glance down towards him over your shoulder. To your side, Noah’s flash was going off every few seconds as he tried to capture the two of you from the best angle, together with cheers of encouragement. For your second pose, you rested your arms on Matthew’s shoulders once he rose back to his full height and his hands held on to either side of your torso. Again, the flash went off and again, the two of you changed pose into something more casual: him, standing behind you with his palms on your hips while you place a hand on his face, grinning at the camera. The flash went off again and he whooped loudly.

“I’m never inviting both of you to a party with this theme again,” Noah muttered, feigning disgruntlement. “You can’t come into my home and kill it like that.” 

“Blame the one who came up with this idea in the first place,” Matthew defended, holding both hands up in the air in a gesture of innocence. 

It was true. The idea to dress as Danny and Sandy from Grease came to you fairly quickly. You knew the two were a popular go-to, but you enjoyed the movie greatly. Plus, it was a great opportunity for you to pull out a pair of red heels you invested a hefty sum of money into. And, well, admittedly there was something about Matthew that made you think he’d suit the role just fine. When you shared your idea with him, he was on board from the start without complaining or suggesting alternatives. You were grateful for that: when Matthew picked you up earlier, dressed in an all-black outfit, leather jacket and hair styled to rival John Travolta’s, you gave yourself a mental pat on your shoulder. If any photos would go up on the internet, you were pretty sure Instagram would be grateful to you. Certainly, you knew Chantal and Keith would get a kick out of it for sure.

“Guilty as charged,” you acknowledged. “I’m going to look for Anna. Catch you later.” You gave a wave to the both of them before making your way towards the hub of activity where couple costumes ranged from peanut butter and jelly to superheroes. 

She was fairly easy to locate, in part because she told you she and Johnny would dress as Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor. The red, blue and gold of her outfit were unmissable even in a sea of costumes. As soon as she spotted you approaching, she made a beeline and wrapped an arm around yours.

“Tell me you and Matthew will recreate the entire You’re the One That I Want scene,” she pleaded. “Please tell me that at some point this evening, you’ll tell us to clear the dancefloor so the two of you can have your moment.”

You rolled your eyes, dragging her along towards a table hosting drinks and small bites. “There’s no moment we’re going to be having.” 

“Because you don’t want to or because you want to so badly that you don’t know how to ask him? I’m pretty sure he’ll say yes.” 

“Neither,” you muttered but even you’d be able to hear the lack of conviction in your tone from a mile away. 

To take your mind off it, you poured yourself a glass of red wine, taking a tentative sip from it. Across the room, Matthew had deposited his black leather jacket away and started making rounds around the room. You took a longer sip from your wine and looked away. 

Anna fixed you with a knowing stare which you refused to acknowledge, but she knew you like the back of her hand. “It’s okay to say you like him, you know,” she advised, and you hated the soothing tone she tried to take when saying that. It felt more pitying than anything, as if you hadn’t already had your share of disappointments in love—or, relationships better said. 

“Who said anything about liking him? He’s not bad to look at I’ll admit, but that’s where it stops.” You frowned, looking out of the nearest nearby window that gave a broad view of the city below. “That’s where I want it to stop,” you admitted, this time quieter. 

You were well aware that you were occasionally trying to look for a narrative that was most convenient for late night thoughts when you had the peace and privacy to think of him as you wished. The reality couldn’t be more different, though, and you knew that. Matthew was helpful to you before because he was good friends with your brother and eventually, you realized that it was just part of his nature. Beyond being successful, beyond his fame and recognition, Matthew was kind and funny and respectful. It was just that you didn’t give him the chance to before and now that you got to know him better, you suddenly realized that…what? You’d like the first man who gives you a helping hand? If that were the case, you should’ve gotten the memo sooner: it would’ve been easier liking the tech guy from work who once debugged your laptop.

It wasn’t doing you any good to try and look for a ‘but’ in every situation: Matthew is helpful because he’s good friends with my brother but it’s not like that should force him to act as if we’re romantically involved not once or twice or thrice but now, four times. Regardless of how you looked at it, that reeked of desperation. You were in that weird period in your life where it felt as if everyone around you was in a relationship, so maybe that mood translated to you. 

That’s right, you settled. That’s what was possibly behind these thoughts of yours. You found Matthew attractive – and what? So did plenty of other people. You saw him surrounded by girls after practice, after matches, while out. What you felt was nothing special. It felt easier to think of it that way, even if for a few hours to truly enjoy the party without having that lurking at the back of your mind. 

You mingled easily, danced with Anna, danced with other players’ girlfriends and wives, danced with your brother, even attempted a few traditional Russian dances taught by Nikita, Artyom and a few of their friends, that left you breathless by their rapid pace and intricate footwork. 

“I’m done!” you declared, breathless and almost swaying on your feet when another Russian folk song came to an end but thankfully, you managed to hold steady before you could catch a ride on the hot mess express. “Absolutely wasted. Knocked out.” You stepped away, tired but euphoric and dropped rather unceremoniously on one of the available couches pushed against a wall. 

“Having fun?” Matthew asked and there was a light flush on his cheeks you knew wasn’t from dancing. There was even just a slight slur to his speech.

“The most,” you replied, breathless, and accepted the drink he held out to you. You took a sip without questioning him what was in the glass, only to find out for yourself he was settling for harder stuff tonight. “But never let it be said that anyone can keep up with Russians because let me tell you,” you whistled quietly, “we’re a couple of steps behind. Plenty of steps behind, actually.” 

Matthew flashed a lazy smile and you briefly spared a moment to envy him for how kept together he remained despite being evidently buzzed. “’s okay. At least we’re the better dressed ones so we lose in style.” 

You took another sip from his glass, holding it out to him with a smirk. “Tell me about it, stud,” you said in what you hoped was a low, alluring tone of voice but no sooner did you think that, and you were reduced to embarrassed laughter. “Forget about that! Forget it, forget it! Where’s the delete button?” 

“I didn’t come equipped with that,” he declared proudly, finishing off what was left of his drink. “C’mere, you can show me a couple of those steps you learned.” 

He stood, a little unsteadily initially then held a hand to you. You knew he wouldn’t have the strength to pull you up properly, so you stood easily fully intent to actually lead him through some of the steps. Except, Matthew was definitely swaying more than you thought he would. There was something inexplicably amusing about the situation and instead of directing him towards the center of the room, you steered him away from it and towards a small bathroom you were shown to earlier that night when you needed some time to re-touch your makeup. 

“Where’re we going?” he asked curiously, looking over his shoulder towards the living room with a look that could only be read as longing. 

“To cool down a little and then you can learn as many folk dances as you want. Believe me, you need to be alert for them. Can’t miss a step,” you advised, trying to steady him by wrapping an arm around him though the difference in weight between the two of you couldn’t compare. Still, you managed to get him into the bathroom safely without either of you making a mess of yourselves or the room. 

“Are you gonna cool down too?” he questioned. 

“Sure thing, definitely need it.” 

“Good, we’ll cool down together.” With that, he made a move to open the glass partition for the shower cubicle but thankfully, you were significantly more alert than he was and managed to prevent him from doing anything more than that.

“Not that sort of cool down. Here, sit here,” you encouraged, lowering the lid on the toilet so Matthew could drop down. You doubted you’d be able to hold much of his strength above the sink if you were to help him splash some cold water on his face.

“But I want that sort of cool down,” he slurred. “With you. Us two. You said you want to cool down too. Could be a couple activity.” He grinned, as if proud of himself. 

Thankfully, Matthew was buzzed enough to miss the flush on your face, the slight shake of your hand as you arranged a towel around his neck to prevent too much overspill before turning the tap on. 

“Can’t do that, Matthew. Here, this will be much better, I promise.” 

“Wanna try though,” he mumbled but was still compliant as you pressed a wet, cool palm against his forehead, then either of his cheeks. “Not cool enough.” His complaint was accompanied by a frown which only morphed into a lazy smirk when he leaned back, trying to pull you with him. “C’mon, Y/N. It’s a couple’s Halloween night.” 

“Matthew, we’re not a couple,” you said gently, pushing your palms against his shoulders in an attempt to free yourself from his hold. Before it was too late. Before you allowed yourself to get drawn into a drunk man’s ramblings. 

“But I wanna be. A couple, with you.” 

You put all your strength into breaking away from his hold and thankfully, managed to do so. Your heart was hammering in your chest as if desperately trying to release itself from the cage of your ribs. 

“Matthew, you’re drunk. Here, splash some cold water on your face so you can come back to your senses.” 

“But I’m not drunk,” he insisted and as if to demonstrate, he stood up quickly. He swayed on the spot, stretching out his arms a little and once he found his footing, he looked towards you with an expression that mixed pride with hopefulness. “See? Definitely okay—”

You frowned, feeling a little caged in. You should’ve left the door open at least. “Okay, then let’s go back out there, yeah? I can get an Uber and I’ll take you home if you prefer that?” 

“Yes,” he said, then leaned back against the door. “Only if you come with me.” 

You exhaled, suddenly tired as if the exchange was working every ounce of energy out of you. “I’ll come to make sure you’re okay and can make it to your bed okay.”

“I can though. I can definitely make it there even on my own and you know why? Because I’m not drunk,” Matthew insisted and when you shot him a look of disbelief, he peeled himself away from the door. “Look, look I can prove it to you I’m not drunk.” 

Before you could even ask him to walk a straight line without stumbling his steps, Matthew’s arm wrapped around your waist while his other hand pressed on the back of your head, bringing you closer until your lips met. Kissing Matthew was like everything you imagined and more. He even did that with the same passion with which he skated on ice, chasing puck after puck. It left you breathless how well he worked his lips against your own as if all along, he knew how to do that in such way that it’d leave your legs feeling like jelly. Beyond that though, it felt comfortable. Not forceful despite him having not asked if he could do it in the first place, yet it still felt right. You tasted sweetness on his mouth and the sharp tang of whiskey. Vaguely, you knew nothing else could compare. It was that thought that made you push away from him with as much force as you could muster, ducking under his arm and towards the door. 

“I’ll ask someone to take you home,” you said without even looking his way before leaving dashing out of the bathroom.

“You okay?” Anna asked you when you ran into her. Quite literally. 

“Uh—yeah. No, actually. I think I feel a bit unwell so I’m going to head home, okay?” 

You made a move to leave but her arm stopped you. “Hey. Are you sure you’re okay?” 

Above her shoulder, you saw Matthew emerge from the bathroom, a little dazzled, eyes searching the room. Before he could even spot you, you quickly freed yourself from her hold and nodded. “Will be. I’ll text you when I get home. Don’t rush back, okay? Tell Alex I said thanks for the invite.” 

You didn’t stumble a step in your heels as you jogged towards the door, making a swift exit before you attracted even more attention.

+ one.

Matthew left no calls and no messages, but that was fine. You didn’t spend time trying to build your expectations of anything like that happening because drunk words weren’t always sober thoughts. The event was just something you had to deal with and if you had to do it alone, then so be it. Reasonably speaking, you and Matthew went from nothing to friends and if you caught feelings along the way, then that was your mistake for letting yourself slip like that. You were left broken hearted once, you really didn’t want to go through that again especially over someone that wasn’t even really and truly yours to begin with.

So, the next morning, you woke up at a reasonably early hour despite the late night but felt energized enough to sweep through your apartment and collect the garments you tossed carelessly on your way to bed after arriving at home. You said a heartfelt goodbye to Sandy, apologizing that in this scenario, her and Danny didn’t end up driving off in a red convertible. After that, you showered and changed in a fresh set of clothes even if the day would most likely be spent indoors. It was a fitting conclusion to the Halloween weekend, and you could do with some downtime, really.

Anna must’ve stayed with Johnny because regardless of how much noise you made, she didn’t emerge from the room and after fixing a quick breakfast and brewing coffee to continued silence, you knew you were right. It didn’t bother you. You’d make full use of the couch and stretch out on it properly as you flicked through your Netflix account and for the sake of sticking to weekend morning traditions, you selected a lighthearted sitcom. You were halfway through the third episode when your doorbell rang. You could’ve sworn Anna had a spare key of her own unless she misplaced it or forgot it home. Not entirely out of question.

Except, it wasn’t Anna who greeted you when you opened the door.

“Oh.” You coughed lightly, crossing your arms then unfolding them, then leaning one against the doorway before dropping it to your side. “Hey—uh. Hey Tkachuk, isn’t it a bit early for you to be out and about? You were smashed the last time I saw you.” 

Matthew looked over your shoulder into the apartment, as if checking to see if you were alone. “Can I come in?” 

Defeated, you stepped to the side and cleared the way for him to step inside before pushing the door closed. Part of you wished you’d dressed up as if you were ready to head off somewhere. You weren’t quite ready nor willing to face whatever music Matthew had in mind for you. 

In the aftermath of the party, out of the flashiness of the costume, Matthew seemed to be perfectly clear-headed despite the state you’d left him in. The curls atop his head seemed soft despite the natural frizz and as he passed by, you caught a whiff of sharp cologne and fresh bodywash. 

“Is Anna here?”

“Are we playing twenty-one questions?” 

“No?”

“Kind of sounds like it, though?” You laughed quietly, trying to lighten the mood. It was bad enough the weather outside was gloomy, autumn settling in full force. Now, you had to deal with a Matthew who looked as if he wasn’t sure he came to the right place. “Coffee?” you asked, already leading the way towards the kitchen. You heard him follow behind you just moments later. While you poured a full cup for him, he hovered by the table, making you frown at him. “What’s wrong with you? You need an invite to sit down and relax? Seriously, Matthew, you look like you should be in bed.” 

“You left last night without saying anything,” he said instead. 

“Uh—yeah. I was kind of tired and I wanted it to call it a night early so—”

“Was it because of what I said or what I did?” 

You almost dropped the coffee cup, but fortunately only startled enough for the liquid to slosh over the rim and down the back of your hand, causing you to hiss in pain. You cursed quietly and, in an instant, Matthew crossed over the room and took the cup from you, setting it down on the table before leading you towards the sink. As if used to this, he placed your hand under ice cold water and once the sharp pain numbed, you pushed his hand away, taking a step to the side in an attempt to put more distance between you. 

“It’s fine, I’ve got this,” you mumbled, holding your hand still under the jet for a few more seconds before closing it.

It was hardly worth the fuss, but it gave you a reason to make yourself busy with something other than freaking out. It couldn’t be that he remembered anything. It couldn’t be that he was standing in your kitchen, thinking that it was a good idea to just open up that subject when you were so ready to take a shovel to it and bury it six feet under. 

“Didn’t you get tired of it at all?” he tried again.

“Tired of what?”

“Of pretending. Of only acting like we’re together for one reason or the other—”

“Matthew, I asked you only once and you know why. I apologized then but if it helps you sleep better at night, I’ll apologize again for dragging you into my mess. I don’t know what the point is of this discussion—”

“The point,” he said, raising his voice but only to cut through your speech. “The point is that I’m tired of it. I’m tired of having to be by your side and pretend. It got to a stage where I don’t even know what’s real and what isn’t, and I feel as if the only time I’ll know that for sure will be when you find someone, so you no longer need to turn to me to pretend.” 

“Matthew, I’m not using you, if that’s what you’re thinking. You’re coming at me with this out of the blue and I don’t even understand what this is all about,” you argued, waving a hand between the two of you. 

Matthew clenched his jaw. You watched as he flexed it and his eyebrows furrowed. “Do you need me to spell it out for you again? I thought I was pretty straightforward about what I want last night.” 

“You were drunk last night, is what you were. You could hardly put a foot in front of the other.” 

“You know that’s not true,” he retorts, lifting his arms then dropping them back down to his sides. “I was sober enough to know damn well what I said and why I said it. If you want to keep pretending even now, even at this point, then you go ahead and do that but let me be clear with you again and you take what you want from it: I don’t want to pretend with you anymore. I want to be with you. You want to know what that feels like? It feels a lot like being so close to something you want, literally having that thing dangled right in front of you only to have it snatched just when you think it’s yours. Me kissing you last night? I’m sorry I forced it on you, I could’ve gone about doing it differently but I’m not sorry for what I feel. That was all me and not the alcohol. So, you take this and do what you want with it.”

You stared at him, disbelieving your ears. It wouldn’t surprise you if that was the case: you did wake up surprisingly refreshed even after an emotionally charged night, so for all you knew, you could be dreaming this. 

“Matthew, what are you—That’s, you’re kidding me with this right? You can’t. You can’t possibly think that.” 

“And why not?”

“Because it doesn’t make sense. Are you even hearing yourself talk?” 

“Why doesn’t it make sense? Want me to go about it differently? If you let me pull your hair, I’ll let you push me in the sandbox.” 

You were suffering from a strange, ill-timed case of déjà vu. Part of you wanted to laugh at the situation but the bigger part of you triumphed, thankfully. You released a breath you had been holding, bringing both hands up to cover your face, taking some moments to yourself. Or perhaps, you’d lost track of time because eventually, you heard Matthew sigh and felt his fingers wrap around each wrist though he didn’t put pressure to tug your hands down from your face.

“Sorry. I’m just—I’m not doing this the right way. I don’t want it to seem like I’m forcing my feelings on you and that you should accept them. If I misread us—you at any point, then fine. Just, we can drop it here and I’ll deal with it but—”

You shook your head slowly. “No, I just need a moment. Sorry. You really caught me by surprise. I didn’t… I thought everything you said last night…what you did… I thought that was just, well, just the alcohol. So, I did the best thing I knew to do and, uh, left.”

“Drunk words, sober thoughts,” he reminded you quietly and this time, you dropped your hands away from your face so you could look up at him. 

He was so handsome. Ridiculously handsome in his casual clothes. Briefly, you thought back to the time you first found safety in his arms and wondered if maybe… Well, why not. You closed the distance between the two of you, wrapping your arms around him, fingers clinging to the thick material of his hoodie while you faceplanted against his chest and breathed him in.

You liked Matthew. You liked Matthew so much that the admission overwhelmed you so much that you squeezed him to you, trying desperately to bring him closer. The gesture seemed to prompt him into action, and he returned the hug, pressing a kiss to the top of your head and then to the base of your throat once he’d lowered his head there. 

“Me too. I want to be with you too. Really be with you. No more of this pretend stuff,” you told him, your voice muffled against his body, but you knew he caught every word.

He chuckled, the sound low and deep, sending shivers down your spine. “We won Noah’s competition last night.”

“Bet he did it because of your long face,” you commented, unable to help yourself. “What did we win?” 

Matthew made a move to step back, but you clung to him, much to your embarrassment. It seemed as if your body acted out of sync with your mind, but who could blame it when Matthew stood right there, right before you. Turned out he only took a step back to lift you off your feet and instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his hips, arms resting loosely around his neck. You leaned in and pressed a fleeting kiss to his mouth as he stumbled away from the kitchen while you stole another kiss. And then, just because you could, a third. 

“A voucher to a seafood restaurant,” he informed you, breaking into a laugh when you groaned, throwing your head back in sheer frustration even if you had a strong feeling he was only messing with you.

“Remind me to never put so much effort if that’s what the stake are.” 

“Noted. Next time, I’ll tell you we could just stay home for Halloween and play by our rules. Outfits optional. Probably not recommended.” 

“That’s…really not what I said.” 

“I’m reading between the lines. See? We know each other so well.” 

You laughed as he carried you all the way into your room without even as much as breaking a sweat. That was definitely some food for thought at a later point.

[ddudumemes]

SOUR SENTENCE STARTERS 

(( collection of ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY THREE sentence starters taken from OLIVIA  RODRIGO’s first album ‘ SOUR ’ . ))

001.  BRUTAL  . ‘  i  think  that  i'll  die  before  i  drink  .  ’ ‘  who  likes  me  ??  ’ ‘  who  hates  you  ??  ’ ‘  who  am  i  if  not  exploited  ??  ’ ‘  where's  my  fucking  teenage  dream  ??  ’ ‘  i  don't  stick  up  for  myself  .  ’ ‘  i'm  anxious  and  nothing  can  help  .  ’ ‘  and  i  wish  i'd  done  this  before  .  ’ ‘  and  i  wish  people  liked  me  more  .  ’ ‘  all  i  did  was  try  my  best  ,  this  the  kinda  thanks  i  get  ??  ’ ‘  i  wish  i  could  disappear  .  ’ ‘  ego  crush  is  so  severe  .  ’ ‘  god  ,  it's  brutal  out  here  .  ’ ‘  i  feel  like  no  one  wants  me  .  ’ ‘  and  i  hate  the  way  i'm  perceived  .  ’ ‘  i  only  have  two  real  friends  .  ’ ‘  lately  ,  i'm  a  nervous  wreck  .  ’ ‘  i'm  not  cool  ,  and  i'm  not  smart  ,  and  i  can't  even  parallel  park  .  ’ ‘  got  a  broken  ego  ,  and  broken  heart  .  ’ ‘  god  ,  i  don't  even  know  where  to  start  .  ’

002.  TRAITOR  . ‘  i  played  dumb  ,  but  i  always  knew  .  ’ ‘  i  kept  quiet  so  i  could  keep  you  .  ’ ‘  ain't  it  funny  how  you  ran  to  her  the  second  that  we  called  it  quits  ??  ’ ‘  ain't  it  funny  how  you  said  you  were  friends  ??  now  it  sure  as  hell  don't  look  like  it  .  ’ ‘  you  betrayed  me  .  ’ ‘  i  know  that  you'll  never  feel  sorry  for  the  way  i  hurt  .  ’ ‘  you  talked  to  her  when  we  were  together  .  ’ ‘  loved  you  at  your  worst  ,  but  that  didn't  matter  .  ’ ‘  it  took  you  two  weeks  to  go  off  and  date  her  .  ’ ‘  guess  you  didn't  cheat  ,  but  you're  still  a  traitor  .  ’ ‘  there's  no  damn  way  that  you  could  fall  in  love  with  somebody  that  quickly  .  ’ ‘  remember  i  brought  her  up  and  you  told  me  i  was  paranoid  ??  ’ ‘  god  ,  i  wish  that  you  had  thought  this  through  before  i  went  and  fell  in  love  with  you  .  ’ ‘  you  gave  me  your  word  ,  but  that  didn't  matter  .  ’ 003.  DRIVERS  LICENSE  . ‘  i  got  my  driver's  license  last  week  .  ’ ‘  you  were  so excited for  me  .  ’ ‘  and  you're  probably  with  that  blonde  girl  who  always  made  me  doubt  .  ’ ‘  she's  everything  i'm  insecure  about  .  ’ ‘  how  could  i  ever  love  someone  else  ??  ’ ‘  i  know  we  weren't  perfect  but  i've  never  felt  this  way  for  no  one  .  ’ ‘  i  just  can't  imagine  how  you  could  be  so  okay  now  that  i'm  gone  .  ’ ‘  guess  you  didn't  mean  what  you  wrote  in  that  song  about  me  .  ’ ‘  you  said  forever  ,  now  i  drive  alone  past  your  street  .  ’ ‘   all  my  friends  are  tired  of  hearing  how  much  i  miss  you  .  ’ ‘  they'll  never  know  you  the  way  that  i  do  .  ’ ‘  today  ,  i  drove  through  the  suburbs  and  pictured  i  was  driving  home  to  you  .  ’ ‘  i  still  fuckin'  love  you  ,  babe  .  ’ ‘  i  still  hear  your  voice  in  the  traffic  .  ’ ‘  i  know  we're  through  but  i  still  fuckin'  love  you  .  ’

004.  1  STEP  FORWARD  ,  3  STEPS  BACK  . ‘  all  i  did  was  speak  normally  .  somehow  ,  i  still  struck  a  nerve  .  ’ ‘  you  got  me  fucked  up  in  the  head  ,  boy  .  ’ ‘  never  doubted  myself  so  much  .  ’ ‘  am  i  pretty  ??  am  i  fun  ??  ’ ‘  i  hate  that  i  give  you  power  over  that  kinda  stuff  .  ’ ‘  it's  always  one  step  forward  and  three  steps  back  .  ’ ‘  i'm  the  love  of  your  life  until  i  make  you  mad  .  ’ ‘  do  you  love  me  ,  want  me  ,  hate  me  ??  ’ ‘  i  don't  understand  .  ’ ‘  maybe  in  some  masochistic  way  i  kind  of  find  it  all  exciting  .  ’ ‘  which  lover  will  i  get  today  ??  ’ ‘  will  you  walk  me  to  the  door  or  send  me  home  crying  ??  ’ ‘  did  i  say  something  wrong  ??  ’ ‘  it's  back  and  forth  ,  going  over  everything  i  said  .  ’ ‘  did  i  do  something  wrong  ??  ’ ‘  maybe  this  is  all  your  fault  instead  .  ’ ‘  i'd  leave  you  ,  but  the  rollercoaster's  all  i've  ever  had  .  ’

005.  DEJA  VU  . ‘  so  when  you  gonna  tell  her  that  we  did  that  too  ??  ’ ‘  that  was  our  place  ,  i  found  it  first  .  ’ ‘  i  made  the  jokes  you  tell  to  her  when  she's  with  you  .  ’ ‘  do  you  get  déjà  vu  when  she’s  with  you  ??  ’ ‘  do  you  get  déjà  vu  ??  ’ ‘  do  you  call  her  ,  almost  say  my  name  ??  ’ ‘  let's  be  honest  ,  we  kinda  do  sound  the  same  .  ’ ‘  i  hate  to  think  that  i  was  just  your  type  .  ’ ‘  now  i  bet  you  even  tell  her  how  you  love  her  .  ’ ‘  don't  act  like  we  didn't  do  that  shit  too  .  ’ ‘  you're  tradin'  jackets  like  we  used  to  do  .  ’ ‘  a  different  girl  now  ,  but  there's  nothing  new  .  ’ ‘  i  know  you  get  déjà  vu  .  ’

006.  GOOD  4  U  . ‘  good  for  you  ,  i  guess  you  moved  on  really  easily  .  ’ ‘  you  found  a  new  girl  and  it  only  took  a  couple  weeks  .  ’ ‘  remember  when  you  said  that  you  wanted  to  give  me  the  world  ??  ’ ‘  good  for  you  ,  i  guess  that  you've  been  workin'  on  yourself  .  ’ ‘  i  guess  that  therapist  i  found  for  you  ,  she  really  helped  .  ’ ‘  now  you  can  be  a  better  man  for  your  brand  new  girl  .  ’ ‘  well  ,  good  for  you  you  look  happy  and  healthy  ,  not  me  ,  if  you  ever  cared  to  ask  .  ’ ‘  good  for  you  you're  doin'  great  out  there  without  me  ,  baby  ,  god  ,  i  wish  that  i  could  do  that  .  ’ ‘  i've  lost  my  mind  ,  i've  spent  the  night  cryin'  on  the  floor  of  my  bathroom  .  ’ ‘  you're  so  unaffected  ,  i  really  don't  get  it  but  i  guess  good  for  you  .  ’ ‘  well  ,  good  for  you  ,  i  guess  you're  gettin'  everything  you  want  .  ’ ‘  it's  like  we  never  even  happened  baby  ,  what  the  fuck  is  up  with  that  ??  ’ ‘  good  for  you  ,  it's  like  you  never  even  met  me  .  ’ ‘  remember  when  you  swore  to  god  i  was  the  only  person  who  ever  got  you  ??  well  ,  screw  that  ,  and  screw  you  .  ’ ‘  you  will  never  have  to  hurt  the  way  you  know  that  i  do  !!  ’ ‘  maybe  i'm  too  emotional  but  your  apathy's  like  a  wound  in  salt  .  ’ ‘  maybe  i'm  too  emotional  or  maybe  you  never  cared  at  all  .  ’ ‘  maybe  i'm  too  emotional  .  ’ ‘  your  apathy  is  like  a  wound  in  salt  .  ’ ‘  maybe  you  never  cared  at  all  .  ’ ‘  good  for  you  you're  doin'  great  out  there  without  me  ,  baby  ,  like  a  damn  sociopath  .  ’

007.  ENOUGH  FOR  YOU  . ‘  i  wore  makeup  when  we  dated  'cause  i  thought  you'd  like  me  more  .  ’ ‘  tried  so  hard  to  be  everything  that  you  liked  .  ’ ‘  i  knew  how  you  took  your  coffee and  your  favorite  songs  by  heart  .  ’ ‘  i  read  all  of  your  self-help  books  so  you'd  think  that  i  was  smart  .  ’ ‘  i  knew  from  the  start  this  is  exactly  how  you'd  leave  .  ’ ‘  you  found  someonе  more  exciting  the  nеxt  second  ,  you  were  gone  .  ’ ‘  you  left  me  there  cryin'  ,  wonderin'  what  i  did  wrong  .  ’ ‘  and  you  always  say  i'm  never  satisfied  but  i  don't  think  that's  true  .  ’ ‘  all  i  ever  wanted  was  to  be  enough  for  you  .  ’ ‘  and  maybe  i'm  just  not  as  interesting  as  the  girls  you  had  before  .  ’ ‘  but  god  ,  you  couldn't  have  cared  less  about  someone  who  loved  you  more  .  ’ ‘  i'd  say  you  broke  my  heart  but  you  broke  much  more  than  that  .  ’ ‘  i  don't  want  your  sympathy  ,  i  just  want  myself  back  .  ’ ‘  i  just  want  myself  back  .  ’ ‘  don't  you  think  i  loved  you  too  much  to  be  used  and  discarded  ??  ’ ‘  don't  you  think  i  loved  you  too  much  to  think  i  deserve  nothing  ??  ’ ‘  but  don't  tell  me  you're  sorry  .  ’ ‘  feel  sorry  for  yourself  .  ’ ‘  someday  ,  i'll  be  everything  to  somebody  else  .  ’ ‘  you  say  i'm  never  satisfied  but  that's  not  me  ,  it's  you  .  ’ ‘  all  i  ever  wanted  was  to  be  enough  .  ’ ‘  i  don't  think  anything  could  ever  be  enough  for  you  .  ’ ‘  nothing's  enough  for  you  .  ’

008.  HAPPIER  . ‘  you've  moved  on  ,  found  someone  new  .  ’ ‘  i  thought  my  heart  was  detached  from  all  the  sunlight  of  our  past  .  ’ ‘  does  she  mean  you  forgot  about  me  ??  ’ ‘  i  hope  you're  happy  but  not  like  how  you  were  with  me  .  ’ ‘  i'm  selfish  ,  i  know  ,  i  can't  let  you  go  .  ’ ‘  find  someone  great  ,  but  don't  find  no  one  better  .  ’ ‘  i  hope  you're  happy  ,  but  don't  be  happier  .  ’ ‘  do  you  tell  her  she's  the  most  beautiful  girl  you've  ever  seen  ??  ’ ‘  remember  when  i  believed  you  meant  it  when  you  said  it  first  to  me  ??  ’ ‘  and  now  i'm  pickin'  her  apart  like  cuttin'  her  down  will  make  you  miss  my  wretched  heart  .  ’ ‘  she's  beautiful  ,  she  looks  kind  ...  she  probably  gives  you  butterflies  .  ’ ‘  i  wish  you  all  the  best  ,  really  .  ’ ‘  say  you  love  her  ,  just  not  like  you  loved  me  .  ’ ‘  think  of  me  fondly  when  your  hands  are  on  her  .  ’

009.  JEALOUSY  ,  JEALOUSY  . ‘  i  kinda  wanna  throw  my  phone  across  the  room  .  ’ ‘  i  know  their  beauty's  not  my  lack  .  ’ ‘  i  can't  let  it  go  .  ’ ‘  comparison  is  killin'  me  slowly  .  ’ ‘  i  think  i  think  too  much  'bout  kids  who  don't  know  me  .  ’ ‘  i'm  so  sick  of  myself  .  ’ ‘  i'd  rather  be  anyone  else  .  ’ ‘  my  jealousy  started  followin'  me  .  ’ ‘  i'm  happy  for  them  ,  but  then  again  ,  i'm  not  .  ’ ‘  oh  god  ,  i  sound  crazy  .  ’ ‘  their  win  is  not  my  loss  .  ’ ‘  i  can't  help  gettin'  caught  up  in  it  all  .  ’ ‘  all  your  friends  are  so  cool  ,  you  go  out  every  night  .  ’ ‘  you're  livin'  the  life  .  ’ ‘  i  wanna  be  you  so  bad  and  i  don't  even  know  you  .  ’ ‘  all  i  see  is  what  i  should  be:  happier  .  prettier  .  ’ ‘  all  i  see  is  what  i  should  be  .  ’ ‘  i'm  losin'  it  ,  all  i  get's  jealousy  .  ’

010.  FAVORITE  CRIME  . ‘  know  that  i  loved  you  so  bad  i  let  you  treat  me  like  that  .  ’ ‘  i  was  your  willing  accomplice  .  ’ ‘  i  watched  as  you  fled  the  scene  .  ’ ‘  one  heart  broke  ,  four  hands  bloody  .  ’ ‘  the  things  i  did  just  so  i  could  call  you  mine  .  ’ ‘  the  things  you  did  …  well  ,  i  hope  i  was  your  favorite  crime  .  ’ ‘  you  used  me  as  an  alibi  .  ’ ‘  i  defended  you  to  all  my  friends  .  ’ ‘  now  every  time  a  siren  sounds  i  wondеr  if  you're  around  .  ’ ‘  'cause  you  know  that  i'd  do  it  all  again  .  ’ ‘  i  hope  i  was  your  favorite  crime  .  ’ ‘  it's  bittersweet  to  think  about  the  damage  that  we'd  do  .  ’ ‘  i  was  goin'  down  ,  but  i  was  doin'  it  with  you  .  ’ ‘  i  say  that  i  hate  you  with  a  smile  on  my  face  .  ’ ‘  look  what  we  became  .  ’ ‘  i  hope  i  was  your  favorite  crime  ,  'cause  baby  ,  you  were  mine  .  ’

011.  HOPE  UR  OK  . ‘  his  parents  cared  more  about  the  bible  than  being  good  to  their  own  child  .  ’ ‘  he  wore  long  sleeves  'cause  of  his  dad  .  ’ ‘  somehow  ,  we  fell  out  of  touch  .  ’ ‘  don't  know  if  i'll  see  you  again  someday  but  if  you're  out  there  ,  i  hope  that  you're  okay  .  ’ ‘  she  raised  her  brothers  on  hеr  own  .  ’ ‘  she  couldn't  wait  to  go  to  college  .  ’ ‘  she  was  brought  into  a  world  where  family  was  merely  blood  .  ’ ‘  we  don't  talk  much  ,  but  i  just  gotta  say  i  miss  you  and  i  hope  that  you're  okay  .  ’ ‘  nothing's  forever  ,  nothing  is  as  good  as  it  seems  .  ’ ‘  well  ,  i  hope  you  know  how  proud  i  am  you  were  created  .  ’ ‘  but  ,  god  ,  i  hope  that  you're  happier  today  .  ’ ‘  'cause  i  love  you  and  i  hope  that  you're  okay  .  ’

[thatfanficstuff]

Summer Wedding - Stucky

Grouping - Stucky x Reader

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. smut including unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), public teasing, oral sex (m receiving), spit roasting, minor knife play and other stuff I'm sure I forgot.

A/N: This is the first fic I'm posting for my summer celebration and it was actually written for boxofbonesfic's Hot Girl Summer Challenge. Not as um...descriptive as I'd intended on making it but I like it. Enjoy.

Word count: 3544

***

The wedding was beautiful, even you had to admit that. It was a relatively simple affair as these things went, though you were certain your uncle had spent several thousands on the flowers that seemed to dot every surface of the grounds of his estate. At least he’d kept your cousin from having a large church wedding this time. There was only so many times that was acceptable anyway, right?

A sigh slid from your lips and you sipped at your drink. You never should have come to this wedding. You weren’t in the mood for it. No, you should have made up an excuse about being sick and stayed home. The only reason you hadn’t was the fact you had no desire to listen to your mother bitch at you for the next six months for missing a family event. Just the thought had you rolling your eyes.

You’d actually been looking forward to the wedding until last week. That’s when you discovered your boyfriends were going on a mission and would not be back in time to accompany you. Not only did you hate going to weddings alone, but you’d already gone through the ordeal of explaining to your aunt why you need a plus two instead of a plus one. And she certainly hadn’t kept that information to herself. Half the damn day had been spent answering questions about your relationship from nosy family members.

Speaking of…Your cousin Natalie sat down in one of the empty chairs that flanked you. She smirked and sipped at her champagne. “So, where are your dates, Y/N?”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes again. Too much more of that and you’d have a raging migraine. Instead, you kept your gaze on the dance floor and took another sip of your drink. “They had to work.”

“I just find it interesting that you all but beg mother for an extra seat and here they both are. Empty.” She eyed you, waiting for a reaction you had no intention of giving her. “I mean, why lie? It’s kind of pathetic.”

You finally turned your head to her. “Shouldn’t you be doing something wedding-ish? You are the maid of honor, aren’t you? Oh, that’s right, you aren’t in the wedding party, are you?” You sucked a breath through your teeth in mock sympathy. “Sorry.”

There was certain to be a reason why Natalie wasn’t part of her only sisters third wedding, but you didn’t care beyond the fact it was sure to be a sore spot. Frankly, Natalie had always been a bitch, even when you were children. Though, unlucky in the marriage department, her sister Sally had always been your preferred cousin. Maybe Sally had finally gotten tired of dealing with her sister’s shit.

Natalie narrowed her eyes and leaned toward you. “I don’t believe you could get one man to put up with you, let alone two. No one does. We actually had a pool going over whether either of them would show up. And if they did, whether they’d leave with you since you’d probably paid them to be here. I mean, most people just make up one boyfriend. Two really takes the cake. You never could stand not being the center of attention.”

The irony wasn’t lost you that most of your family had no idea you worked with the Avengers. Nor had you mentioned the names of those two boyfriends of yours. Real attention seeker you were. You chanced a glance at your phone to check the time. You had at least another hour before you could leave without a lecture from your mother. You also had zero messages from your boys. Hopefully, that meant they were taking care of business and would be home soon.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” your cousin started whisper yelling from beside you as she froze in her chair. Her eyes were wide and slightly crazed.

Your brow furrowed. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Even as you waited for an answer, your trained ear picked up murmurs beginning amongst the other guests.

When you went to look over your shoulder, Natalie gripped your hand. “Don’t turn around,” she said through clenched teeth. When you went to do it anyway, she snapped again. “Don’t. They’ll see you staring.”

“Who?” Your tone was clipped as irritation crawled through you.

“Steve Rogers and James Barnes just walked in,” she hissed, her gaze locked on them. So apparently she was allowed to stare but you weren’t. By this point, everyone else would be staring as well. The boys were used to it.

You snatched your hand away from your cousin and spun in your seat. As soon as you saw them, a smile covered your face. They had been so certain they wouldn’t be back in time. You knew they’d pushed themselves to be here for you. You ran your gaze over them, taking in the rare sight of them in suits. Even though you’d helped them pick them out, you still licked your lips at the sight.

Steve wore a beautiful bright blue suit that you knew brought out his eyes even though they were currently hidden behind sunglasses. Buck’s suit looked light blue but it was actually a thin blue pin stripe. Both of them looked incredible as always, but you always got a little thrill seeing them dressed up. Of course, that feeling was mutual.

They hadn’t seen you yet, but they were scanning the crowd as they moved across the vast grounds of your uncle’s estate. When your uncle moved to greet them, you stood as well.

Natalie grabbed at your arm. “What are you doing? You’re going to embarrass me.”

Yeah, she didn’t need any help with that. You shook her off and started toward your men. Both of them immediately locked onto your presence and wide smiles greeted you. Your uncle got to them before you could. Steve shifted his attention to speak with him, but Buck’s attention was 100% on you. His gaze trailed over you from head to toe and his eyes darkened.

“We’re extremely honored that you’re here. How did you hear about the wedding?” you heard your uncle ask. He was one of the politer members of your family.

“They’re with me, Uncle Frank,” you said as soon as you were close enough to be heard without raising your voice. “Sorry they’re late. They were working.”

Frank turned to you, his mouth slightly agape and his brows lifted. “These are the dates Margie wouldn’t stop going on about?” Margie was his wife and the aunt you had to beg for the extra seat.

You hummed in agreement.

“Well, I certainly hope so or this is going to turn awkward in a moment,” Bucky said with a lopsided grin. He opened his arms in invitation and you stepped into them. “Missed you, doll.”

You nuzzled against his chest briefly, careful not to transfer your makeup to his shirt. “I missed you, too. So much. I’m glad you’re home.”

There was a tug on your arm and you were pulled into Steve’s embrace. He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Hey, baby.”

“Hey, soldier.” You turned to look at your uncle who was still staring in stunned silence. “Steve, Bucky, this is my Uncle Frank. Father of the bride.”

Both of your boys shook his hand and thanked him for allowing them to come. He hurried back to his table, undoubtedly to announce this strange turn of events. You fell into step with your boyfriends, taking their hands in yours while you walked in the middle. You led them over to your table to find Natalie still in Bucky’s seat.

“Natalie,” you said to get her attention. When she continued to gape at the two men you said her name again.

She smiled at you as if you were her favorite person in the world certain there was an introduction in her future. “Yes, cousin?”

“You’re in his seat.”

She blinked at you for a second before her face twisted in anger. She scrambled from the chair and stormed back to her table with a toss of her head. Steve and Buck chuckled as they took their seats on either side of you. They slid their chairs as close to you as they could get. “Are you two hungry? We already had dinner but I could find you something.”

Bucky squeezed your thigh. “We ate. Don’t worry about us, sweetheart.”

“I’m glad you two made it,” your mother’s voice caught your attention and you turned to find her standing next to Steve. He stood to greet her and you leaned against Bucky, knowing he wouldn’t care to do the same. “If I had to listen to one more person say she made you up I was going to scream,” she admitted as she hugged Steve. That earned another low chuckle from Bucky.

“Mrs. Y/L/N, it’s good to see you again,” Steve said, managing to sound sincere. Not that he disliked your mother, but they’d just returned from a mission. All they wanted to do was stay home for a couple of days and destress. But they’d come here for you and they would be on their best behavior.

“We won’t be staying long, mom. They just got home,” you informed her and braced yourself for an argument.

Instead, she nodded. “Of course, sweetheart. Just make sure to introduce them to Sally before you leave.”

You groaned. “Can’t I just do it at her next wedding?”

“Y/N!” she snapped but you caught the twitch at the corner of her lips.

Bucky snorted a laugh beside you while Steve shot you a chastising look. You smiled. “I will, momma.”

She left and Bucky turned to speak in your ear as Steve sat back down. “We don’t have to leave, baby girl.” The nickname shot a thrill up your spine. “I love weddings. The food. The dancing. The clothes. Like this little number you have on. I really love this dress, doll.” You wore a white sundress with tiny blue flowers on it to match their suits that fell a few inches above your knees. It was the first time either of them had seen it.

Steve’s arm settled across the back of your chair and his fingers played with your hair. “Yeah, that dress is something special. It might be a bit too short, though,” he said without glancing at you. Instead, he seemed to be keeping an eye on the crowd around you.

“It’s not too short.” You loved the dress and thought it was perfect.

“Yeah, Stevie. If anything, it’s not short enough.” Bucky’s fingers dragged your dress up your thigh, bunching it up in his hand as he went.

“What are you doing, Barnes?” you hissed.

“I told you I missed you, doll. I want to show you how much.”

You placed a hand on his, stopping his movement. “You can’t be serious.”

“Of course, we are. We talked about it all the way home,” Steve answered. He lowered his mouth to speak in your ear. “Talked about how we wanted to please you in front of everyone. With everyone watching because you know their eyes are glued to our table trying to figure out how we managed to land a beautiful gal like you.”

You snorted a laugh that cut off in a gasp as Bucky pulled your dress further up your thigh. “I don’t think that’s what they’re thinking, Steve.”

Bucky kissed the patch of skin behind your ear. “How come he gets Steve and I got Barnes?”

“He’s not the one actively trying to feel me up at my cousin’s wedding.” Your eyes slipped closed as his fingers brushed your inner thigh. Sweat beaded your skin and you wondered if you could blame it on the heat even though it was ten degrees cooler than it had been earlier.

“But it was all his idea,” Buck whispered.

Your eyes flew open to shoot a glare at the blond’s head. “Steven Grant Rogers, What would your mother say?”

Buck laughed, drawing the attention of some of the few people that weren’t already staring. “She’d probably say, ‘good going, Stevie’. She would have loved you.”

“Would—” All ability to finish your sentence or to have a rational thought fled from you when he pushed your panties aside and ran his fingers through your folds. Fuck.

“She’s already soaking wet for us, Steve. Such a good girl,” Bucky cooed.

Steve’s hand fisted on the back of your chair as he glanced around again. “I was wrong. I don’t have the patience for this. I need to be buried in her.” He slid his sunglasses off and put them in the inside pocket of his jacket. He turned to face you, blue eyes burning into you. “You have exactly two minutes to find us someplace private or we’re going to finger fuck you right here until you scream. Your choice, princess.”

In less than a minute, you’d sent a text on your phone and jumped to your feet. Taking their hands in yours, you dragged them toward the house. You pulled them through the large home until you reached a familiar door on the main level. Opening it, you shoved the super soldiers inside. You locked the door behind you and turned to find them already loosening their ties.

“We don’t have time for that,” you argued with a wave of your hands. “I told Uncle Frank we were borrowing his office for an important phone call. We have twenty minutes tops.”

Bucky groaned. “I wanted to take my time with you. I missed you,” he nearly whined.

The corner of your mouth kicked up. “We can take all the time you want later, baby. Right now, just fuck me.” That had him groaning again, an entirely different sound this time.

Steve, however, wasn’t wasting any time. He grabbed a cushion from the couch and tossed it on the floor. “All fours, princess.” He was already undoing his belt by the time you dropped to your knees. He moved behind you and pushed your dress up to give himself a clear view of your ass. He ran his hand over it before giving you a light swat. The mild sting was still enough to have you shifting.

“These have got to go,” he said tugging on the side of your panties. “Buck?”

You glanced up to see Bucky grin as he pulled out a knife and handed it to Steve. He traced your spine with the back of the blade causing you to hiss and arch your back. The sensation only doubled when he moved from cloth to bare skin. The cold steel on your flesh sent tremors through you but you weren’t scared. Far from it. “I think she likes that, Stevie,” Bucky said, a teasing lilt in his voice. “We’ll have to remember that.”

Steve merely hummed before slicing through both sides of your panties and pulling them off as he handed the knife back to his friend. His hand immediately cupped you and his fingers dipped into your soaking wet folds. “Christ, Y/N. I hope you’re ready for me, baby.”

The head of his cock nudged your entrance as if asking for permission but that only lasted a moment. A second later, Steve surged forward filling you with his length. You moaned at the familiar sensation and clawed at the carpet. He paused, giving you time to adjust then he was thrusting into you in long, slow strokes. “Don’t tease,” you ordered.

Steve laughed and increased his speed. When you groaned, Bucky was there rubbing the tip of his cock across your lips. You opened your mouth and sucked at him greedily, needing to taste him while Steve railed you from behind. Only when you had both of them inside of you did you feel complete. Whole. Whatever the fuck was wrong with you, you hoped there was no cure. You would gladly die like this.

The feeling of both of them moving in and out had a perfectly sinful, wanton moan coming from you. The vibration ran along the length of Bucky’s cock and he grunted. His fingers tightened their hold in your hair and his speed increased. Steve mirrored his pace and it didn’t take long for the office to fill with lurid grunts and the sweaty, sweet smell of sex.

Soon, you were so lost in sensation you became little more than a vessel for them to use as you climbed to your peak. Their rhythm stuttered and you knew they were close. You clenched your walls around Steve and were rewarded with a hiss and his grip on your hips tightening. At the same time, you sucked harder on Bucky and ran your tongue along the underside of his cock. “Fuck,” he bit out. “I’m close. Cum, baby girl. Come on.”

Steve’s fingers found your clit. Two seconds later you were screaming around the cock in your mouth as your cunt clutched greedily at the one in your pussy. Fuck. Bucky came next, his load shooting into your mouth and down your throat. As you swallowed his offering, Steve filled you with his cum. You felt it leak around him and drip to the floor.

They pulled out of you at the same time and you collapsed to your side. “Holy shit,” you said between pants causing your boys to laugh.

“Holy shit’s right. Damn,” Bucky agreed. Your eyes followed his movements as he tucked himself back into his pants and put himself to rights. Before you could turn to Steve, you felt fabric between your legs cleaning you up.

A glance showed him wiping away his cum with the remnants of your panties. He gave you a wicked grin. “Can’t have you leaking all over your cousin’s wedding, now can we?”

Your face heated as you thought about all the times they’d made you walk around with their cum leaking out of you. Apparently, that wasn’t appropriate for a wedding but was fine everywhere else. Steve stood and pulled his pants up before doing up his belt. He held out a hand to you. “Let’s get you fixed up, sweetheart.”

They’d barely done anything and looked like they had when you walked into the room. You, on the other hand, probably looked like you’d gone a couple of rounds with a rabid raccoon. Stupid men. Steve made sure your dress was laying correctly so everything was covered while Bucky did the same thing behind you. They both fiddled with your hair for a moment before declaring you gorgeous.

You narrowed your gaze at them, not buying it for a moment. The three of you quickly put the office to rights. There was nothing you could do about the smell of sex in the air but hopefully it would dissipate before your uncle needed to use it.

“Seriously, baby girl. You look fantastic,” Buck insisted when he noticed you fidgeting.

“Yeah, but you guys like it when I look freshly fucked,” you said as you opened the door. There was a mirror in the hallway you used to check your appearance. You actually didn’t look that bad, but you definitely looked a little wild. You shrugged. Honestly, you didn’t care. “All right, we’re saying hello to the bride, then we’re leaving.”

“No argument here.” Steve took your hand in his and Buck did the same thing on the other side.

When the three of you made it outside, you headed straight for the head table. “Sally, this is Steve and Bucky. Boys, this is my cousin Sally and her new husband Ben.”

“Lovely to meet you,” Steve greeted with a smile. Sally launched herself at him and wrapped him in a hug.

“I can’t believe you came to my wedding,” she squealed before letting go of him to hug Bucky. His eyes begged you to help him but you just smiled. Sally was a bit flighty but she was good people.

She hugged you last. “You should have told me, Y/N. I would have sat you closer to the front.”

“It’s okay, Sally. We have to go. Congratulations,” you said then let her go. When you did, you found that most of the family had come to get introductions or say their farewells. Nicole tried to go in for a hug, but Steve subtly made sure it was nothing more than a handshake. The fact you didn’t introduce her was enough to tell them she wasn’t the kind of person they wanted to know.

When she tried to hug Bucky, you intercepted and hugged her instead. “It was good seeing you, Nicole.”

“You have some explaining to do,” she said in a low voice as she hugged you tighter than necessary. When she released you, she continued to stand by you.

You watched Bucky and Steve say goodbye to your mother and uncle before they turned to you. You held up a finger to tell them you’d be right with them and leaned sideways to get closer to your cousin. “So, just out of curiosity, did anyone in the pool have them fucking me during the reception?”

[mypoisonedvine]

Time After Time | dark!Neil (Tenet) x reader

summary: it’s tricky when feelings get involved in an organization like tenet.  still, you’ve never been happier than you are with your boyfriend Neil, even if he’s a bit elusive and a very erratic coworker.  for all his secrets, you never expected what he would tell you the day he finally proposed.

word count: 5.5k

warnings:  smut!! (dub con, for extremely complex reasons), almost kinda stockholm syndrome?, yandere/soft!dark neil, breeding kink, confusing time travel stuff

"What are we doing here?” you asked as you looked around the safehouse— like any secret Tenet hideaway, it was sleek but sterile, nestled in a historic neighborhood in southeastern Moscow.  It was sort of how you remembered from the last time you’d been here for work, but somebody had rearranged the living room and changed out the rug.  (Knowing the nature of your business, you were pretty confident you knew why the rug was replaced.)  

Neil had made it clear that you weren’t coming here for a mission, but never said what you were here for, and had kept up the veil of secrecy all week long.  At first, you had assumed that since tomorrow was your four-year dating anniversary, it must have something to do with that, but the more you pondered the potential options, the more you were unsure.

You turned to look at him and found him wearing his signature smirk, the one that made you sure he was up to something— but you still didn’t know what.

“Seriously, Neil, just tell me!” you pleaded with a laugh, shoving him playfully.  

“We’re here,” he explained slowly, “because I need to ask you something.”

He sank down onto one knee, clutching your hand in his, as you looked down at him with wide eyes.  "Oh— oh my god,” you barely managed to stammer, entirely breathless.

“As soon as I met you, I knew you were the love of my life,” Neil began with that smile of his that always melted your heart.  “I knew that I had to do everything in my power to make you as happy as you make me, to have you with me until the end of time— whenever that actually comes.”

You laughed a little, but it fell into a sob of joy as he reached into his jacket and pulled a ring out of his pocket, brandishing it to you.

“Darling, will you be my wife?” he asked, almost sounding like he was a little nervous that you’d say ‘no’, for some reason.

“Neil,” you whispered, “of course— yes, yes!”

He popped up and kissed you, smiling too hard for it to be a very effective kiss, though it was a perfect one nonetheless.  You felt him slip the ring on your finger and you felt like you were floating on air.  It was even more surreal than the first time you were inverted.

“I’m so glad you said yes,” he admitted with a sigh of relief against your lips.  You pulled back from the kiss and looked up at him, bewildered but overjoyed.  

“Were you really worried I’d say no?” you scoffed incredulously.

“Terrified,” he laughed, and you laughed too, kissing him again quickly before launching into the first of so many questions you wanted to ask.

“When did you— how did you—?”

“I got the ring last month,” he explained.  “I thought about waiting longer but I was so tired of hiding it from you.  Then it was just a matter of getting you here.”

“Don’t take this as me criticizing your proposal,” you giggled, “but I have to ask: why here?”

He sighed a little, smirking slightly, and looked away before catching your gaze again.  “You’re gonna think I’m a bit crazy—”

“Already do, continue,” you winked.

“But this is where we first met.”

He was right; you did think he was crazy.  You furrowed your brow and laughed nervously.  “Neil, we met at a coffee shop, the one by my old apartment.  I didn’t work here then, you recruited me yourself.”

He chuckled slightly, turning your confusion into an eerie sense of nervousness.  “Sometimes you amaze me with your naivete, darling.  This is where we first met, the first time.”

Gingerly, you pulled your hands away from his.

“I didn’t recruit you, originally.  I was here, working, when a close friend of mine came in and introduced me to the newest member of the team.  It was you… and you captured my heart, instantly.  Only problem was…" he trailed off, chewing his lip as he glanced away.

“Tell me, Neil,” you demanded quietly.

“You’d captured someone else’s heart, too.  And he had already married you.”

You stood up instantly, walking away a little before turning back to stare at him in bewilderment.  You couldn’t believe what you were hearing; you could hardly stand on your wobbly legs anymore.  “I… I had a husband?”

“Yeah, met him once; seemed like a nice guy,” he shrugged.  “But he wasn’t right for you.”

“And how’s that?”

“Because he wasn’t me.”

You shook your head, terrified to imagine the ways Neil had tampered with the flow of time for something as trivial as an infatuation with you.

“I tried to hide my feelings for you, darling, really; we were just coworkers for a long time, I kept it strictly professional.  But the more I got to know you, the more I grew to love you.  I knew I couldn’t be happy just being your friend— you’re my everything.  I tried to tell you— but you wouldn’t listen,” he shook his head.  “You told me you loved your husband.  You told me you had just found out you were pregnant.”

His words hit you like a train and you stumbled back slightly, bracing yourself against a credenza to try to keep from falling to the floor.

“I realized I had to go back,” he continued, becoming a bit more passionate as he explained his plan.  “You couldn’t be convinced if you were pregnant with his child.  But if I was going to invert myself to try to confess my love for you sooner, I figured it would be easiest if I took it a step further and avoided the whole marriage itself.  You had told me once about the day you met him.  So, I went and found you in that coffeeshop, the day before.  And I recruited you to Tenet.  Truth was, we could’ve used you a lot sooner, so it was advantageous to the organization as well— which is why I got approved to be inverted by the boss himself.”

That hurt.  He was Neil’s friend, but he was your friend, too.  Had he known that when Neil went back to recruit you, he would irreparably alter the course of your life?  Or had he only realized later and decided not to try to correct it?

“Don’t look so heartbroken, darling,” he pouted, stepping forward and reaching out to gently rub your shoulder.  “We’re finally together.  Things are finally the way they should’ve been from the very beginning.”

You pushed his hand away and averted your gaze, unable to look at him anymore.  "I'm sorry, Neil, I can't do this— I can't live a lie," you shook your head, beginning to step away.

“No, you can’t go,” he breathed, desperation apparent in his tone along with his expression.  “You can’t go!  I finally got it right this time!”

“Is that why you were afraid I’d say no?” you realized with wide, watery eyes.  “Because I said it before?”

“Yes,” he admitted, faster than you expected.  “But—”

“How many times?”

There came the silence, his nostrils flaring as he crossed his arms and looked away.

“How many times did I reject your proposal, Neil?”

“...Fourteen.”

“Oh my god,” you sobbed, “Neil, you— you never gave me a choice, did you?  From the beginning?  Every time I tried to get away from you—”

“You always knew you belonged with me,” he posited fiercely.  “You always knew, it was why you kissed me that night, a year from now, on the bridge in Oslo.”

“That wasn’t me!” you cried.  “I was never married, Neil, I was never pregnant, I never kissed you on any godforsaken bridge!  You undid it all, and now you’re holding what I never did against me?”

“Even then you knew we were meant to be together,” he explained, stepping a little closer; out of love for the man you thought he was, you had a moment of sympathy for the man he had become, and let him pull you closer and cradle your face in his hands.  He wiped a stray tear from your cheek as he smiled down at you.

It almost felt right for a moment, but you couldn’t trick yourself into believing this was anything but wrong.  "I'm sorry, god, I'm so sorry," you whispered hoarsely as you turned to walk away— but he chased you and spun you back around, overpowering you as you tried to wriggle from his grasp.

“After everything I did for you,” he growled, grabbing your wrists tightly when you tried to get away, “you can’t just walk away from me.”

“You didn’t do any of this for me, Neil,” you spat as you struggled, “you did this for yourself.  You stole my life!”

“I saw your life, it was shit without me, okay?”

"But at least it was mine!"

He grabbed you by the shoulders and pinned you to the wall, making you yelp as he glared at you, eyes wild and teeth bared.  “I’ll just go back and do it again.  I’ll do it a million times until you stay with me forever, I swear.  So what’s the use in fighting me?  You’ll say yes, eventually.  Why don’t you save us both some time— in a sense— and just accept it now?”

This was a side of Neil you hadn’t seen before.  He wasn’t livid, he wasn’t violent (at least, not to the level you knew he could be), but he was undoubtedly threatening you… and you knew that he was right.  More than ever you were sure that he was going to keep doing this, keep taking you through the same loop until he got the outcome he wanted.  It was horrifying to imagine, but at least this way you could know the truth.  Maybe you could even find a way to escape him someday— you couldn’t even imagine how, but you might come up with something later.  You had all the time in the world, after all.

He softened slightly as he must have realized you were considering it, reaching down to pull your hands into his.  You glanced over at the sparkling diamond on your ring finger, remembering how ecstatic you had been to wear it just a few minutes ago.  Now it was a tiny gold shackle, each glimmer of the stone like a silent taunt.

Devastated, but with nowhere else to turn, you began to sob and allowed him to embrace you and pull you into him.  He held you close as you cried into his shoulder, terrified and confused and seeking comfort even if it was from the man who had imprisoned you in time.

“Shh,” he soothed gently, “it’s going to be alright, darling, take some deep breaths for me.  Can you do that?  In—” he inflated his chest, guiding you to breathe with him, which you did to the best of your ability—” and out…”

Smooth breaths were difficult with sobs vibrating your lungs, but you eventually managed to stabilize yourself as he guided you through a few more.  You resented that he knew you so well to be able to calm you down; you resented that your body trusted him enough for it to actually work.

“That’s it,” he praised softly, “you’re okay, it’s okay…”

~

You stared at yourself in the mirror, contemplating the way your face looked through the lacy white veil.  Silently, you wondered if this was how you looked at your first wedding; the one that never really happened, to the man you never got the chance to meet.  You liked to imagine that you looked happier than this, that your eyes were filled with excitement rather than resignation.  

A knock at the door didn’t even tear you from your trance, nor did the sound of it opening; only Neil’s reflection appearing beside yours in the mirror made you snap back into reality, if only slightly.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your ear.

“Bad luck…” you mumbled.  “It’s bad luck,” you began again, “for the groom to see the bride before the wedding.”

“I think we’ve had enough bad luck for a lifetime already,” he joked, making you furrow your brow and turn around, looking up at him.

He bore a startling resemblance to the man you’d fallen in love with, to the man you’d been ecstatic to marry when he got down on one knee for you in a nearly-abandoned safehouse in Moscow.  Even the way he smiled at you, his gaze so gentle as it scanned your face, was exactly the way he’d looked at you a thousand times— when you first met, as well.  The first time for you, at least.  He’d known you for years then; it was no wonder that he looked at you with such love, struck up a conversation that perfectly targeted your interests.  He must’ve spent years practicing to be your perfect man, until he finally got tired of the lie and trapped you in his twisted idea of the truth.

It made you question his motives for appearing suddenly and spoiling the surprise of you in your wedding gown— a sight he must have been dreaming of for years.

“Did I leave you at the altar?” you asked, below your breath.  “Is that why you’re here?  You came back to stop me?”

He chuckled lightly and brushed his fingers over your face.  “I don’t know yet.  This is the first time.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat.  “How can I trust you?  How can I know you haven’t said that every time?”

He didn’t answer, instead leaning in to kiss you gently.  You closed your eyes, accepting that you could never really know the truth anymore.  Maybe someday you would become comfortable with unknowing, or at least complacent enough to tolerate it.

Walking down the aisle felt sort of like walking toward the gallows, but instead of death waiting for you at the end, there was a life of futility, an existence guided not by destiny or decision but by derangement: one man’s fight, against God and nature, to keep you to himself and steal you from the life you were once meant for.

You managed to keep your footsteps steady, glancing briefly to the pews scattered with parse friends and family— wasn’t much time for either of those with the kind of work you did.  All the time in the world, but not enough time for a real life.  That was why it had been so easy to fall for Neil, since he was one of a few people you spent significant time with.  Had that always been the nature of the job?  Or an orchestration by Neil himself, separating you from others until you couldn’t choose anyone but him?

Thankfully, you managed to get through the wedding without crying more than was appropriate or screaming at him or trying to run away.  You exchanged the vows and the rings, you kissed each other, the whole shebang.  Occasionally you actually managed to enjoy yourself, in those moments that you forgot this was all a hollow facade, greeting guests and listening to toasts and dancing with Neil— your new husband.

You forced yourself to keep up the image of a happy bride for the sake of your friends, and everyone who came here in expectation of a fun wedding.  It was what they deserved, even if it was costing you everything.

But once they were gone, you didn’t know how to play the part anymore.  You didn’t know how to swallow down the sick rising in your throat as Neil led you to the honeymoon suite, how to smile back at him when he looked at you with so much joy.

You didn’t know how to prepare yourself for what you knew he expected.

“I… should change out of this dress,” you realized once you were alone in the hotel room together, and he nodded his approval.  You knew if you looked at yourself in the mirror, you would cry, so instead you focused on getting out of your uncomfortable gown.  The lacy white lingerie underneath was intimidating, not for what it was but for what it symbolized.  You couldn’t go back out there like this, obviously— so you grabbed one of the puffy white robes, the hotel’s logo stitched onto the breast pocket, and you threw it on as you stormed out of the bathroom and directly to the balcony.

Tears threatened to burn your eyes as you looked out over the London skyline.  It was stunning, and it made you appreciate that you should be thankful for the freedoms you did have.  There was a big, beautiful world out there and you had the means and the motive to explore it all, if you wanted— you’d already seen more than most.  

But you still mourned for the life you never lived.  Some would argue that in an infinite number of alternate universes, you had the choice to leave him if you wanted to; and apparently, from what Neil had implied, you usually took it.  Yet, that was useless to you now.  The irony was not lost on you that you would be so spoiled as to hate your life when you were standing on the balcony of a luxurious hotel, in a gown that cost more than your first degree, with a gorgeous new husband and more money than either of you would ever have any use for.  You knew you were being petulant.  But something deeper longed for freedom, with everything it cost.  Does it matter how decadent a cage is, if you are still trapped in it?

The balcony door opened behind you, and you defiantly sniffled, quickly wiping a stray tear from your cheek.

“Darling?” Neil gently called to you.  “Is everything alright?”

You didn’t answer, fearing the waver in your voice would give you away.

“I know it’s all a little… overwhelming,” he relented, his voice coming closer along with his footsteps.  “But you really have nothing to worry about.  I think you’ll rather like it.”

“Like what?” 

He paused for a bit before he replied.  And when he did, he said it like it was obvious: “Being my wife.”

You turned to face him, expecting rage in your voice but hearing only sadness.  “And if I don’t?  You’ll just… go back, and do it again until I do?”

He sighed a little, seeming hurt by the question.  “Please, darling, it’s our wedding night,” he cooed, “you can’t hate me.  Let me remind you how good we are together…”

His touch was distantly familiar, and against your better judgement you relaxed a bit and let him pull you closer, his cheek brushing against yours as he spoke beside your ear.

“I never inverted for this,” he explained with a whisper, fingertips grazing over your arm.  “I didn’t learn your kinks, memorize your body and then go back to impress you from the beginning.  The first time we were together… it was the first time for both of us.  And it was perfect.  Do you remember?”

You nodded.

“Tell me,” he instructed, lifting your chin to tenderly kiss your neck.

“Paris,” you sighed.  “We were posing as lovers to check in to a hotel without arousing suspicion.  I’d been enamored with you since I first met you and I thought maybe you felt the same way, but I told you we couldn’t be together because of Tenet…”

“But I kissed you anyway,” he reminded you.

“And I didn’t care about Tenet anymore,” you remembered.  “I just needed to feel you.  And we made love for hours— nearly missed our signal to get out of the building.”

He chuckled lightly against your skin, his fingers leaving goosebumps where they travelled across your back.  “It was worth it,” he decided.  “It was beautiful.”

You pulled back and looked up at him, finding so much love in his eyes, and you searched desperately within yourself for a way to love him in return again after what he’d done.  

Swallowing, you slid your fingers into his hair and examined his face one more time, illuminated in the faintly bluish glow of the city lights.

“Go back,” you whispered.

“What?”

“I need you to go back,” you repeated.  “To the day you proposed.  Don’t tell me the truth this time.”

Realization dawned on his face, somber but calm.

“I’ll be yours, Neil,” you promised, “forever, like you wanted.  But I can’t live like this.  I can’t live knowing what you’ve done.  And I can’t live with myself if I know that I gave in to you.”

“I hate to leave you on our wedding night,” he argued, turning away slightly— but you held his face and pulled him back to look at you.

“Do this for me,” you pleaded.  “Consider it a wedding present.”

He gave you a small, sad smile before he embraced you again.  "Anything for you," he whispered as he kissed you on the top of your head.

~

Neil all but kicked the door down as he carried you in his arms, unable to break the kiss even for a moment to open the door properly.

He stumbled around the room a bit before he finally tossed you onto the bed, eliciting a girlish squeal as the puffy layers of your wedding gown's elaborate skirt flipped up over your head.  Growling playfully as he climbed atop you and slotted himself between your legs, you pushed your dress out of the way to look up at him.

As your laughter died down and you examined his face, you were compelled to reach up and hold his jaw in your hand; he turned his face slightly to kiss your palm as you caressed his cheek.

"I love you," you sighed as you brushed a stray strand of hair back out of his face.

"I love you too," he smiled, "more than you could ever know."

You rolled your eyes.  "There goes my husband with his crypticness again."

He hummed at the title, kissing you again.  You figured you were lucky he didn’t rip the dress as he got you out of it, growling when he saw your lacy white lingerie underneath.  “You really are too good to me, darling,” he purred, leaning down to capture a nipple between his teeth through the fabric until your back arched.  “All wrapped up for me like a pretty little present…”

You whined when he slipped his fingers down between your legs, toying with you and refusing to just pull the panties aside and get on with it.  Of course he had to draw it out, savor every inch of you, but did he have to drive you so crazy along the way?

"Neil, please," you whimpered, "need you…"

"I know," he soothed between heavy breaths, kissing down your chest and stomach until he reached where you'd nearly soaked through your flimsy lace.  He kissed your swollen clit right through the fabric— damn him that just that little touch made you moan and grab his hair.  He loved seeing the effect he had on you, it was clear by the way he grinned and did it again, a little firmer, relishing in the way you squirmed.

Finally, he pulled your panties aside; although of course he did it tantalizingly slow before sliding his tongue through your folds, moaning lowly when you accidentally pulled his hair a bit.

He looked so damn good with his face between your thighs, staring up at you and holding you in place with his petrifying gaze.  His eyes were always uncharacteristically dark when he did this to you, like he'd been waiting all his life for this moment.  Like the taste of you drove him wild.

You shuddered when he pushed his tongue inside you, instantly putting pressure against the most delicate places inside you.  When the pleasure threatened to become too intense and you instinctively tried to squirm away, his strong hands gripped your thighs and held you down nearly effortlessly, likely leaving marks on your skin for you to notice tomorrow, to remind you that you were his.  As if the ring wasn’t enough.

“Fuck,” you groaned, “please— please let me come.”

You didn’t always ask him for permission, but he always gave it when you did.  So you weren’t expecting him to grin and stop his task to suck a hickey onto your thigh.  “Not quite yet,” he purred.  “I need you to ask really, really nicely…”

“Um,” you stalled, distracted by watching him leave a trail of marks along your skin with his teeth, “please… don’t stop, Neil, please let me come… I’ll do anything, you know I will.”

“That’s already true,” he reminded you, snarling as he gave your pussy a sudden spank; you yelped and jolted from the impact, but it ended with a moan and more wetness gathering at your hole.  “You can’t be so obedient all the time and try to use it as a bargaining tool, darling.  You know better than that.  Offer me something I don’t have.”

“If you let me come,” you pondered your potential options as you bit your lip and rocked your hips up in hopes of friction, “I’ll… make dinner, every night, for a week—”

He quirked an eyebrow.

“A month!” you blurted out instead.

“You’re negotiating against yourself,” he chuckled, slapping you right on your clit and making you cry out.  “And you’re not much of a cook.”

You were teetering on the edge, desperate for any leverage you could grapple onto, keening for just a touch more stimulation to bring you the rest of the way— and you were so fucking close.  You could only think of one thing Neil wanted, that he didn’t have, that you could give.  And it was a stupid idea, but you needed to offer him something fast before those dreaded spanks between your thighs made you come before he’d given permission.

“We can fuck on a mission,” you announced through your teeth.  Finally, you felt like you had his attention.  The only time that had ever happened was the one time you let it happen— the first time.  The next day you’d had a long conversation about how you weren’t going to let feelings interfere with the job; he agreed, and since then the two of you had done a pretty good job of separating business and pleasure.  Although he did occasionally get irritated with your work in the field and take it out on you that night in bed, but that doesn’t count, right?

“Really?” he mused.  “Whatever happened to boundaries?  What happened to ‘respecting the other team members’?”

“They don’t need to know,” you explained.  “Please, Neil, I really really need to cum.”

He pressed a thumb to your clit and drew slow, relaxed circles— just slow and relaxed enough to make sure you couldn’t come from it.  You sobbed and let your head fall back, exhausted of his teasing.  “How can you be sure you’ll be discreet enough?  You’re not exactly… subtle,” he smirked, your moans now exactly proving his point.

“Can’t be loud with my mouth full,” you countered, and his smile finally fell.  You finally had a bit of power back.

“You’d really suck me off on a mission?”

“If you can promise to keep quiet,” you chuckled.

He growled a bit as he dove back in, the sudden pleasure forcing a deep moan from your lips.  “Fuck,” he mumbled against you, “so dirty for me, huh?”

“Yeah,” you agreed as you bit down on your lip.  “God, I’m close, just don’t stop…”

“As long as you keep up your end of the deal,” he smirked, and you nearly forced his head back down between your legs but thankfully, he kept his mouth shut after that— well not quite shut, just busy, and before you knew it the pressure that built in your gut finally flowed over and you sobbed his name at the peak of your orgasm.

He kept going for just a moment too long, sending white hot shocks up your spine from the overstimulation, but thankfully he slowed down and pulled back, licking his lips and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

With that out of the way, and you nearly melted into the bed at this point, he sat up and hastily opened his belt and fly while he gazed down upon you with a burning hot stare.

"I should return the favor," you offered, sitting up slightly and reaching to wrap your hand around his length, but he shook his head.

"I’ll get my chance, but right now I just need to be inside you,” he explained gruffly.  “Can’t spend another moment without being buried in this gorgeous cunt of yours; I might die if I can’t have you now.”

"Well, if it's a matter of life and death," you grinned, poorly faking indifference as he shoved you back and caged you in, guiding his cock to your dripping wet entrance.

“Ready, darling?” he prompted quietly as you felt the head of him prodding at you.  You nodded, and yet you still gasped and clutched his forearms when he pushed into you.  It was like the first time every time, with the way his thick length speared into you and stretched you open, but you craved it regardless; by now it wasn’t even pain, just raw sensation that pushed your limits in all the right ways.  He sighed a bit when his hips met yours, already pulling back and setting the pace of his thrusts.    

Even with how wet you were, there was friction just from the size of him, but it was the right kind of friction— a smooth, slow drag against your walls that compelled you to wrap your legs around his hips and hold him deep inside you.

“Is that how you want it?” he interrogated.  “Deep?”  You nodded and he chuckled a little.  “I can do that.”

He stopped moving only for a moment to grab your legs and push them up, such that when he thrusted again, the tip of his cock hit the furthest places inside you and you choked on your own moan.  "Fuck!" you croaked, eyes shooting open and hands reaching out to clutch his shoulders.

"How deep am I inside you?" he asked coyly, well aware of the answer already.

"So deep,” you slurred, barely able to form words with a heavy tongue and empty lungs, “all the way…"

"Good."  He leaned down and growled against your ear.  "I hope I knock you up tonight."

His words shocked you, in the best possible way.  You surprised even yourself with the way your body reacted, and your hands were almost moving of their own accord as they grabbed his face and pulled him into a deep, needy kiss.

“Neil,” you mumbled as you broke it just enough to look up at him, “put a baby in me.”

“Fuck,” he hissed, thrusting into you faster than ever, “I will, darling…”

He was unstoppably filthy after that, relentlessly pounding into you, claiming your entire body as he whispered unimaginably dirty things in your ear.

"I know you want it so badly, darling, I know you need to be filled with my seed… can't wait to see you all round and glowing with my baby in you."

You didn't understand his emphasis on the word "my,” as if it could ever be anyone else's!  But you didn't really notice that very much, too busy crying out at the feeling of him stretching you out and reaching the deepest places inside of you.  “Neil, please— I’m so close, want you to come with me,” you whimpered.  

“Yeah?  Wanna squeeze my cock with this pretty little cunt while I fill you up, darling?” 

“Please,” you sobbed, and you were sure you’d never needed him this bad; never needed anything this bad.

Deep little growls coming from between his teeth signified that he was close, and you felt your body tightening around him as you reached your peak one more time, much more intense than before and so much louder than you meant for it to be.  He finally spilled inside of you, painting your walls with his spend as you whimpered and began to descend from your high.  His body relaxed atop yours, though his arms wrapped around you to hold you close.  After a few moments of that, he fell onto his back and you laid your head on his chest, humming happily at the feeling of his warmth seeping out of you.  You were confident you’d be sore all over tomorrow, but you couldn’t feel it now as the afterglow served as a painkiller, keeping you numb and happy while you cuddled into him.

His arm around your shoulders pulled you closer so he could kiss your forehead.  You looked up at him, admiring the way he looked horribly disheveled and yet entirely perfect; he looked back at you, smiling softly.

"Can't believe you're finally mine," he sighed wistfully, "forever."

[milkiane]

photo booth picture

pairings: peter maximoff x reader

warnings: strictly follows the events of DOFP at the beginning, mentions of food

word count: 2193

note: ‘twinks’ is your nickname for each other. for @peterssweetpea and @sunflowergirl522 because i love the both of u to the moon and back <3

“how does the breakfast club sound to you, twinks?” you asked your best friend, flipping through the movie catalog of the newspaper.

he scrunched his nose up, “ehh,”

“oh, come on, pete,” you groaned, letting the paper fall on your face, “you’ve protested to every movie that’s showing in the theaters.”

“you know we could just go to new york in like a span of a minute to look for a great movie.” he shrugged, “or watch a production of that chick flick you’re waiting for,”

“i- wait, actually, that sounds like a great plan,” you grinned, sitting up.

but before you could even say another word, he shushed you and sped out, and back with a box of popsicles. he dropped it on your lap and went back to playing table tennis with himself.

“peter!” magda called out, “the police are here,”

“what? did they immediately know that you stole these?” you asked, unwrapping one.

“... again.”

“nope, and they’re not cops. i checked,” he said.

footsteps were heard as three men went down the stairs, you looked at them suspiciously but didn’t say a word.

“what d’you guys want? i didn’t do anything,” he said, before speeding around and sitting at the couch from behind them, “i’ve been here all day, ask her.” he nodded towards you, letting the tennis ball fall on the floor.

the three men looked at you, you waved your hand and smirked.

“just relax peter, we’re not cops,” one of them said, completely ignoring your existence.

“‘course you’re not cops, if you were cops you wouldn’t be driving a rental car,” he retorted, making you laugh.

“how’d you know we’ve got a rental car?” the long-haired brunette asked, you shook your head in disbelief, continuing on eating your popsicle.

“i checked your registration when you were walking through the door,” he said, “i also had some time to kill so i went through your rental agreements, and saw you were out of town.”

“are you the fbi?” you asked, peter looked at you and you nodded at him.

peter took the hint and sped around them, time slowing by as he did. he went through the scruffed man’s wallet, hoping to get some money while he’s at it, but instead of money, he saw a folded envelope with his and your name on it. the handwriting was yours, which confused him because as far as he was concerned, the both of you didn’t know who these men were.

he looked at your frozen states before pocketing it and grabbing the next guys wallet, “nope, you’re not cops,” he swiped through it and grabbed the crumpled card, “hey, what’s up with this gifted youngster’s place?”

“that’s an old card,”

“he’s fascinating.”

“he’s a pain in the arse,”

“what, a teleporter?”

“no, he’s just fast,” one of them said, “and when i knew him he wasn’t so… young,”

you looked through his mind, seeing all his emotions, his memories, and his crowded mind. he isn’t from here.

peter sat beside you on his bed, eating his popsicle as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “young? you’re just old,”

you snorted before staring at the man whose name you found out was logan, “what’re you doing here, logan?”

the three of them blinked at you, finally acknowledging your presence. he spoke up, “you know what i’m here for,”

you squinted your eyes at him, trying to go deeper into his mind.

“stop entering my mind, y/n,” he growled, he knew that if you went in any deeper, he’d lose connection with the future.

“a telepath?” charles asked, looking at you with wonder.

“and a time traveler, creating portals to anywhere and anytime,” logan groaned, rubbing his head.

“so you’re not afraid to show your powers?” hank asked.

“powers? what powers?” peter furrowed his eyebrows, turning to look at you and ask, “do you see something strange here?”

“nothing anybody would believe if you told them,” you quipped, grinning as peter used his powers to speed over his pacman.

“so, who are you? what do you want?” he asked, eyes focused on the game.

“we need your help, peter, y/n,”

“for what?” you asked, sitting up straight.

“to break into a highly-secured facility,” he sought, “and to get someone out.”

“prison break? that’s illegal, you know.” he retorted, hands still aggressively pressing and pushing on buttons.

they looked around the basement, observing peter’s stolen stuff.

“what’s in it for us?”

“you, you kleptomaniac, get to break into the pentagon.”

this piqued both our interests, peter stopped playing the game and faced them. you sighed, creating a portal and appearing in front of them, “how do we know that we can trust you?”

“because we’re just like you,” he answered. you knew that he meant they were mutants like you, but if peter’s in, then you are, too.

“show him,”

slowly, sharp claws of bones started to appear in one of logan’s hands. you grimaced, turning around to wear your sneakers.

“that’s cool, but it’s disgusting,”

as soon as you’ve got everything settled and planned out, you and peter got into action. you waited in the elevator for the assigned guard as the others went on their ways.

peter messed with him as soon as he got in and grinned, getting the duct tape out. you immediately wrote a note and stuck it on the food tray.

peter went out, uniform-clad and the tray in hand. you sat on the floor, looking at the guard who’s been duct-taped against the wall, “so, you come here often?”

he started muffling out words you obviously couldn’t understand so you blinked at him, “what was that? oh, yeah, you’ve got tape on your mouth,” you hummed, feigning sympathy as you stood up, hearing the glass shatter.

in a blink of an eye, peter and erik, who looks like he’s going to be sick, appeared. peter immediately changed back to his clothes you handed back.

erik looked at you, and you smiled, “it’ll pass, it happens to everyone.”

“you must’ve done something serious,” peter commented, “what did you do? what’d you do? what’d you do?”

you ignored the annoying remarks of your best friend and offered the man a comforting look, “why did they have you in there?”

“for killing the president,” he muttered.

you and peter exchanged shocked looks, “shit!”

“you take karate? you know karate, man?” peter asked, doing some hand motions. you rolled your eyes, wondering why you couldn’t go watch a movie like the both of you had planned instead.

“i don’t know karate,” he groaned, “but i know crazy.”

“they told me you control metal,” peter said, looking at him curiously.

“they?” he asked, looking at you and peter worriedly.

you just shrugged, but peter didn’t stop talking, “you know, my mom once knew a guy who could do that.”

your eyes widened, looking back and forth from erik and peter, but before you could even go into his mind and see if he and your best friend are related, the elevator doors opened.

“charles?” he faltered, but before he could say anything else, charles gave him a right punch on his face, making him stumble, “good to see you, too, old friend… and walking.”

you shook your head in disbelief, waiting as the two of them bickered like an old married couple.

you leaned into peter, and whispered, “can you feel the sexual tension, too?”

“definitely,” he snorted, watching as the events unfold.

the shouts of the guards snapped you out of thought, “nobody move! hold it right there!”

“charles,” erik began. all of you stepping out of the lift as more of them slowly came in. peter moved you from behind him, you calculated each of their moves. you knew that you wouldn’t handle them all at once, especially if you haven’t fully controlled your powers.

“don’t move, hands up, or we will shoot!”

“freeze them, charles,”

“i can’t,”

you grabbed peter’s walkman, and carefully placed it in his hold as erik manipulated the metals around you.

in a millisecond, the guards are down and the bullets were away from you.

you smiled, making your way towards him and giving peter a high-five, “great work, twinks,”

he blushed, but a small frown on his face as charles and erik walked out without acknowledging him. logan smirked, patting him on the back, “thanks, kid.”

“c’mon,” you wrapped your arm around his waist, “how about that movie, now?”

as the rest of them boarded into the jet, you leaned against the car.

“peter, y/n, thank you very, very much,” charles said courteously, shaking peter’s hand, “you take care.”

charles looked at you and smiled, “do me a favor and return it for me,”

you grinned, catching the keys and going in the driver’s seat, “sure thing, charlie,”

peter scoffed in disbelief as you started the car, revving the engines to spite him.

“maximoff,” logan called, he patted down on his pockets for the envelope, but then realized that he’s got what he needs already, “open it with her, alright?”

peter blinked, “oh- uh yeah, sure,”

“come on, peter!” you beeped the car, and teased him, “mcdonald’s may be open 24/7, but i’m not willing to wait for you that long,”

“and peter?” logan added, “take it slow,”

peter chuckled, shaking his head as he got in the passenger’s seat. you waved goodbye at them and started to drive off.

“play some music, i’ve always wanted to sing obnoxiously loud in the car with you,” you said, flicking at the turning signals.

he connected the aux to your ipod and pressed shuffle play on yours and his playlist, another brick in the wall, pt. 2 by pink floyd started playing.

the both of you sang along (quite horribly), as you rolled down the windows, acting as if you didn’t just break into the pentagon, as if it was just the two of you and the rest of the world— how it should always be.

you lowered the volume, ordering by the drive-thru, and carefully parked the car.

you fiddled with the keys, turning the engine off but letting the music play as peter grabbed the takeouts and hopped on the hood of the car, you not too far behind.

you took a bite of your fries, and spoke up, “i know i’ve said it before but i really do think that you did amazing out there.”

he chuckled, “thanks, twinks. you did, too,”

“please,” you scoffed, “i barely did anything but be the moral support and the comic relief.”

he turned to look at you, but you were just watching the cars drive past you, “i don’t think i would’ve been all superhero-ey without you there, y/n,”

you smiled, “well, what kind of best friend would i be if i wouldn’t be there for you?”

the both of you chuckled humorlessly, because, oh, yeah, you were just best friends and nothing more. just secretly pining over each other and hoping that the other feels the same.

peter hummed, taking a sip of his soda before remembering what logan told him, “oh! hey, see. i knicked this from the big dude’s pocket,”

to y/n and peter

“huh,” you scooted over next to him and opened the envelope. in it was a photo booth picture of the both of you, but a bit older.

summer ‘83, peter and y/n

“hey, this is 10 years from now,” you pointed out. the two of you were smiling, plain and simple, but still adoring at the first one.

“how very y/n of us,” he joked.

“shut up,” you laughed, shoving him a bit.

in the second photo, peter had your cheeks squished in one hand, his eyes were crossed and his tongue out while your hand was raised as bunny ears behind his head.

“and how very peter of us,” you retorted, falling in love with the photo from the future.

in the third photo, your nose was scrunched up while you’re smiling as peter was kissing your cheek.

heat crept up on both of your faces, that’s fine, the both of you thought, friends kiss each other on the cheeks, too, right? purely platonic.

but the fourth photo had both of you choking on air. you and peter were kissing. like on the lips.

the both of you turned to look at each other but immediately avoided each other’s gazes as you were too flustered.

you cleared your throat, “well that’s…”

“yeah…” he muttered, “look, there’s a note at the back,”

just kiss already! and admit that you like each other so that you can finally watch a movie!

“oh,” you whispered, you looked at peter, “you, you like me, too?”

“i- well, yeah, for a long time now, actually,” he smiled softly, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“me, too,” you leaned in slowly as he did. and surely, your lips collided, all those years of mutual pining and shameless flirting came to a stop and a start of a new beginning for the both of you.

“so, how about the movie now?”

general taglist: @daltonacademia @inks-and-jinx @weasleyyy @oldschoolkiddo @accioweaslcy @inglourious-imagines @peterssweetpea @iwritesiriusly @fives-cup-of-coffee @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @band--psycho @marswilson24 @miraclesoflove @chokemepansy @spideyspixies @lolooo22 @justfangirlthingies @sw33tgirl @remugoodgirl @tatestripedsweater @gryffindorgirly @hellounicorn

marvel taglist: @marswilson24  @magicalxdaydream

[thestarrynightslover]

It’s a Good Day to Have a Bad Date

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Word count: 2,383

Warnings: Slight mentions of an OC with criminal priors, violent tendencies, and a juvenile record. A teeny-tiny bit of angst.

Summary: The reader meets Jay as she's trying to find out stuff about the guy she's about to go out with and ends up switching dates.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: Just to make one thing clear: I did some research on Illinois's laws  (not sure I got it right tho) and, apparently, this fic is very inaccurate. But I really wanted to pursue the idea, so just humor me, please 🙏🏻. Anyways, I had a lot of fun while writing this and thought about making a part two... But I'm not sure. Tell me what you think! 💗

| masterlist |

You inhaled deeply one more time before you walked into the police district. There wasn’t even a real reason for you to be so nervous about it. You weren’t a victim and you weren’t a criminal. So, what’s the worst that could happen? 

The worst that could happen was, of course, you getting a bunch of cops mad at you because you went to waste their time with some pathetic whining. It was decided, you were gonna turn back around right now, while you still had time, and just go home.

On second thought, though, it was a matter of public safety. Your safety. Which was just as valid because you were just as much of a U.S. citizen as anyone else. So you went in. 

Shit. The place was almost empty, which meant everyone would notice if you left. And they’d ask questions, so you figured you’d, at least, get ahead of them, as you walked shyly towards the front desk. There, you were met by an older woman who looked bored, and still, terrifying.

“Can I help you with something?” She asked you, while cautiously checking you out. Oh my God, she thought you could be a victim! You were such an idiot.

“Um, it’s, um, it’s actually nothing, really. I shouldn’t even have come here in the first place.” You told her while smiling a little. What you didn’t know was that what you said had only raised more flags in the sergeant’s mind, even catching the attention of a tall man writing some things down on a paper at the corner of the counter. The young detective stayed back because he knew that Platt would know how to manage the situation, but continued listening to every word of the conversation.

The sergeant, then, took her glasses off, setting them on the counter. “Listen, miss, my name is Trudy Platt and the reason why I became a cop was that I wanted to help people, in every way that I possibly could. So, if you need my help with anything, just tell me what it is. And, I promise, I’ll do everything in my power to give it to you.” She assured you and, as much as you felt this huge sympathy for the woman, you also felt even worse about making her waste her time. So you tried to fix things.

“Oh, my God! I’m so, so, so sorry! I’m not a victim in any way, thank God. I said that I shouldn’t have come here because I’m not even sure if what I wanted to ask is legal…” You told her with a nervous laugh. Hearing that, the Sergeant’s eyes sparked with curiosity.

“Well, then I probably won’t be able to help you.” She told you, stressing the ‘probably’ and making the man at the end of the counter shamelessly turn his face in your direction in order to better hear your conversation. “But… Since you’re already here, and it’s been such a slow day for the District, maybe you should just ask me whatever you want to and I’ll be the judge of whether that’s legal or not. After all, unless you’re some sort of lawyer, I should know more about the law than the average civilian.” The Sergeant skilfully baited you.

“Um, no, I’m not a lawyer.” You confirmed with a small laugh while tugging some of your hair behind your ear. “Actually, since I’ve just recently moved here to Chicago ⎼ to Illinois, really ⎼, I’m probably a lot below your average civilian.” You stated with a giggle. At that, the guy that had lost his discretion about eavesdropping started chuckling a little himself, to which the older woman responded with a look you’d absolutely hate having directed to you.

“So, Chuckles, you have nothing better to do than to stay here listening to other people’s conversations?”

“First of all, it’s detective,” he started in a mocked smug tone, “and, second: no, uh, I actually don’t. I came to fill this paperwork down here exactly because we were about to kill each other upstairs, just to get out of the boredom.” He added, raising some paper files he had in-hand. “Besides, you know how much I, too, love to help people.” He said while shooting you a charming smile. Okay, that guy was pretty handsome. “Jay Halstead, nice to meet you.” The detective informed you, holding out his hand.

“Right, um, nice to meet you too, sir.” You replied, shaking his hand. “I didn’t even say my name, what a clums!” You joked while patting yourself on the forehead. “I’m (y/n) (y/l/n).”

“Okay, just, please, lose the ‘sir’ with that one, otherwise, he’ll never let it go.” Trudy chipped back in the conversation.

“So, what was it that you wanted to ask the sarge? I can assure you that we’ll let you know if it’s illegal. After all, two judges are better than one.” He suggested, all smiles.

“Since when?” The sergeant practically barked at the younger man, just to add: “You know what? You wanna be here at my front desk, Halstead? Then be here, but be quiet and let the lady talk.” She bluntly ordered him, who decided to do as he was told.

“Alright, um, it’s just that this guy who I don’t really know anything about asked me out and I said yes, even though I got a bad vibe from him?” They just stared at you with their jaws dropped, so you added: “Pathetic, I know. But I didn’t really wanna judge him without any proof, or anything like that, so I figured that, maybe, I could try and check if he has any criminal priors or something.” You finished with a tiny embarrassed smile.

“And why on Earth would you think that we could give you this type of information?” The sergeant asked you, her expression being one of pure shock.

“I, uh…” You didn’t really want to embarrass yourself even more but felt the urge to explain anyways. “It’s just that I’m a small-town girl, okay? And, over there, everybody knew my family, so, whenever I wanted to go out with someone, my dad would just ask his buddies at the Sheriff’s office to look the guy over. And he always told me that that was really important, so, when I moved to the state’s capital, I just wouldn’t go out with anyone unless a close friend vouched for him. Because I was terrified of what I’d see and hear on the news. But here… I don’t really know anyone yet.” You blurted it all out, to two strangers! To two cops who probably had something, or somethings, better to do than to listen to your whining. “Anyhow, I’m really sorry that I wasted your time, guys. Won’t happen again.” At that, they exchanged a look, and the sergeant said:

“You know what? You’re right, kid. The world is a dangerous place. And, unfortunately, it is even more dangerous for us women. So I’m gonna look the guy up. But I’m not gonna tell you exactly what it says if something comes up.” She told you, much for your surprise, and, then, turned to the detective, saying: “If you say a single word about this to anyone, and I mean anyone, Chuckles, I swear to God that I’ll cut your tongue out myself.”

“Geez, sarge. How can you swear such an ugly thing like that to God?” He asked her, in a mockery tone, while making a hilarious expression.

“Ha! Keep that up and your tongue won’t be the only thing I’m gonna cut.” She threatened him again and you couldn’t help but burst into laughter when he made a shocked expression and put his hands protectively over his crotch.

“For your information, I wanna help the girl just as much as you, so I wouldn’t say anything. You didn’t have to threaten me.” He tried to recover, as you handed her a small piece of paper with your possible date’s name.

“Oh, I know. But I wasn’t about to miss out on the opportunity.” She shot back at him while typing the name on the District’s computer. “Okay, here it is... Wow."

"What? What is it?" You asked her, as you watched the detective perk himself over the counter to look at the screen.

"Jesus. This guy's got himself quite a rap sheet." He commented, making you shiver, thinking of what could happen to you, if you went on with the date.

"What exactly do you mean by that, detective?" You asked the man who probably noticed your discomfort, because he spoke again, in a tranquilizing tone:

"No, relax. It's nothing too bad, like violent or anything. But there's some pretty nasty stuff here." He told you, not really making you relax.

"There's something here, though." That caught the detective's eye again. "His juvenile record is sealed, the only thing I can see without a warrant is an observation from his caseworker. She says something about him having violent tendencies." She told you with a sigh, taking her glasses off again. "Look, I know that I can't tell what to do and what to not do, (y/n), but, as a suggestion? Stay the hell away from this piece of work. You seem like a nice enough girl, I'd hate to see you come in here as a victim someday."

“Oh, God, no! I heard you loud and clear, sergeant! Don’t worry about it, I’m canceling that date ASAP!” You exclaimed, agreeing with her.

“That’s great!” The detective spoke this time, sounding a little too happy about the fact that you were about to cancel a date with a man who had criminal priors and violent tendencies. So both you and the other woman stared at him. “Err, I mean because you’re not gonna go out with him.” You just giggled a little at the way he was digging an even deeper hole for himself. “Because he’s a bad guy.” He added, once again getting a glare from Trudy. “You know what I mean.” He finished, defeated, not looking in your eyes.

“Well, uh,” you started, trying to keep yourself from laughing too hard, “anyways, I can only thank you both. You guys got me out of something that could be really unpleasant, to say the least.” You told them, a bit more serious this time.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. Just glad we could help.” Detective Halstead said, smiling kindly at you.

“Yeah. This time, I actually agree with you, Halstead.” The sergeant half-joked.

“Aw, that’s very kind, but, really, thank you!” You restated your gratitude, then asking: “I should probably get going now, right? Stop wasting your time?”

“It’s not like we were doing much before you got here-” Trudy began saying, but was interrupted by the detective, who quickly told you:

“Yeah, you should go. You know, cause a police District…” You knew he was right, but those two seemed like really nice people, especially after having helped you dodge a bullet, so to speak, and you’d hoped that you were finally making some friends in the Windy-City. “Anyways, um, lemme walk you out.” He offered you while motioning to the door. At that, you and the sergeant shared a look that told you she also found it weird that the detective would wanna walk with you through such a minimal distance.

“Uh, um, o- okay.” As you and Halstead walked towards the exit, you couldn’t help but notice what nice features he had. Like, your mind just kept going back to what a good-looking man he was.

“So…” He trailed off.

“So…” You answered, not really sure about what to say.

“You know, um, it’s gotta be a hell of a bummer for you. Being here in Chicago without knowing many people. This city… It’s all about finding your community.” He told you in a sympathetic tone.

“Hum…” You breathed out as you thought about it for a moment. “Yeah, well, I guess that I can only hope I’ll have better luck at making acquaintances the next time I go out to explore it.”

“Right.” The detective agreed. “Uh, listen, I know that this may sound a little too forward, but, maybe, I could show you some of my favorite places, someday? I mean, only if you’re interested! Because I don’t want you to feel like-”

“Actually, I’d very much like that! If it isn’t going to be any trouble for you…” You cut him off excitedly.

“No! No trouble at all!” He quickly assured you. “Um, thi- this is my card.” He said, lifting up a small business card for you to see. “I’m gonna write my personal number on the back of it. Call, or text me when you have some time to go out. Or if you just want someone to talk…” The handsome man added with a smile. God, what a smile.

“Okay, um, thanks, dete-”

“No, please! Call me Jay.”

“Alright,” you acknowledged, a little nervous this time, “then, thank you, Jay. Just, be advised, I can be very talkative sometimes, which means you might regret giving me this.” You warned him with a sly smile while waving the card in front of his face.

“Huh.” Jay pretended to consider it for a moment. “Is it too weird if I say I have a feeling that I won’t regret it?” He then asked you with a cute shy smile.

“Well, it sure isn’t weirder than me saying that I really hope you don’t regret it.” You confessed to him with a wink.

“Hey, are you two gonna take that flirting elsewhere on your own, or do you need me to get you a room?” You heard Sergeant Platt call out, blushing immediately.

“I’m so sorry about that!” Jay told you, looking a little flushed himself. “You should probably go now.” He added with an apologetic smile.

“Yeah, I think you’re right..” You agreed, but, as you were turning around to leave, he grabbed your wrist lightly, saying:

“Just… Don’t forget to call.” Hearing that, you snickered a little.

“I have a feeling that I won’t.” You told him, almost repeating his previous words, which got some chuckles out of him.

Now you understood the nickname.

[hotpinkhoshi]

kiss it better | five

pairing: mark tuan x reader

genre: angst, eventual smut, brother’s best friend au (sort of)

warnings: tw for death, death of a parent, reference to drug addiction

word count: 4.5k

summary: you were off limits for more reasons than mark could count. but everything changed for him the day you walked into his tattoo shop with those big innocent eyes and a laugh like his favorite song. he couldn’t. he wouldn’t. and yet…

a/n: hi babies thank you for your patience, i know it’s been many many months since i’ve updated! the last time i posted for kib was all the way back in may, which is crazy, i know. but life has been weird and it’s been difficult for me to find the motivation to write. it’s slowly coming back for me and i’m so glad you guys have stuck around with me even if i haven’t been consistent. i’m more grateful than you know!

✩ index here ✩

“She did what?” Dahyun asked, her bite of gimbap nearly falling right out of her mouth. 

Youngjae threw his head back and broke into laughter entirely at Mark’s expense. 

Mark ran his tongue over his teeth and refused to look up at his friends, focusing awfully hard on the sketch he’d been working on in between appointments. He quickly realized that they had absolutely no sympathy for him. 

“Yeah.” 

It had been two weeks already since that night, and Mark was just now feeling comfortable enough to spill what had happened after he took you home. He liked to take his own time to process his thoughts before he revealed them to others, and quite frankly, he hadn’t even wanted to tell anyone. But he was starting to think maybe he needed an outside perspective. 

“She has guts,” Youngjae said, after finally pulling himself upright in his chair. “Was it good?” 

“Dude,” Mark warned, far from amused. 

Dahyun cut in. “It’s a good enough question. From what I’ve seen, you guys have some intense sexual tension. If the kiss was hot, maybe it’s worth exploring.” 

“We don’t have sexual tension,” Mark defended. 

Youngjae snorted. 

“Sure. But, let’s say if you did, and the kiss was good…” Dahyun trailed off, wiggling her eyebrows. 

Groaning, Mark tapped the end of his pencil against the desk. He glanced up at the wall, his eyes naturally drawn to the photo of your shoulder, of the tattoo he’d designed and permanently inked onto your skin. It wasn’t the only photo he had pinned up of his previous work, but it was the one he looked at the most. 

“She’s a kid,” he said, little to no conviction in his voice. 

But you weren’t a kid. Mark knew in every way, you were an adult. Even mentally, emotionally, you seemed more mature than he felt most days. Packing up your belongings because you refused to live a life you weren’t satisfied with? He couldn’t imagine anything more grown up than that.

“Mark,” Youngjae’s tone was firm, serious this time. “It’s not the worst thing in the world if you have chemistry with someone. I know it may not be the most convenient girl for you, but… you’ve been by yourself for a long time. You can’t tell me you aren’t lonely.” 

He hadn’t thought he was lonely until you came into his life. He had been fine, so fine, living on his own. Waking up alone, eating dinner alone, focusing on his work and living one day to the next. 

But now, he looked forward to the sound of your keys in the door when you got home from your evening shift. He bought your favorite brand of orange juice instead of his. He didn’t mind watching outlandish and obviously fake reality shows if it meant that he got to hear your commentary along with it. More than anything, he’d gotten used to the way you made him feel. In the simplest of terms, he was happy. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Mark said. “I already fucked it up.”

Dahyun narrowed her eyes. “What did you do?” 

He rubbed some of the tension out of his forehead, relaying the conversation he’d had with Taehyung that night to his friends. The exchange wasn’t longer than a few minutes, but it was long enough for Mark to potentially ruin everything you’d built for yourself in the last couple of months. 

“I didn’t tell him everything - I couldn’t do that. But I told him I’d seen her in the city, that I thought maybe she worked in one of the restaurants near the shop…” A knot of guilt coiled in his stomach. “Fuck.” 

He’d just wanted to do the right thing. You were young, you couldn’t see that your parents cared about you. Taehyung cared about you. They deserved to know where you were, especially after everything they had done for him. He could at least point them in the right direction. 

“Well, shit,” Youngjae offered, a sympathetic frown on his face. 

“I fucked her over, and I haven’t been able to look her in the eye since. We’ve just avoided each other for the last two weeks and I-” Mark heaved a breath, leaning back in his chair. “I hate it.” 

He missed you. Even if he couldn’t say it out loud.

“I have an idea,” Dahyun said, her whole body perking up. “Don’t look at me like that, sometimes I have good ideas. Why don’t you invite her along for Yugyeom’s camping trip?”

“You mean the couple thing?” 

Dahyun sighed. “It’s not a couple thing. It’s just… everyone there is part of a couple. Anyway, it might be a good way to make things less awkward.” 

Mark blinked a few times, waiting for Dahyun to say ‘just kidding’ because it was an absolutely ridiculous idea. “What? How would that make things any less awkward?” 

She shrugged. “I mean, it’s a great opportunity to break the tension. If you know what I mean.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Mark scowled. 

You spent your entire shift thinking about Mark. Thinking about how you had completely messed up your relationship, and trying to figure out how to fix it all. It had been a stupid, drunken mistake, and you would take it back in a heartbeat if you could. 

The past two weeks had been torture, tiptoeing around and trying your hardest to avoid him. You’d picked up extra shifts almost every day, figuring that if you were working, at least you didn’t have to pretend like everything was normal. 

All you wanted was to come home, curl up on the couch with Milo and watch your favorite ridiculous TV shows while Mark snickered next to you, entertained by the disgustingly wealthy families on the screen no matter how much he pretended to hate it. You wanted to be able to lean into him, feel the body heat radiating off of him when his shoulder brushed yours. 

You missed Mark. Even if you couldn’t say it out loud. 

After much debating, you decided that the best way to apologize started with food. And you owed him, anyway, after he opened his home to you and let you stay there free of charge. A dinner was the least you could do. 

You could tell once you walked into Paradise Tattoo just before closing time that Mark hadn’t been expecting you in the slightest. He was at the desk, going over papers with Dahyun, when the bell dinged to signal your entrance. 

In his ripped jeans and muscle tee, all of his tattoos were on display for you, even the large quote he had inked onto his ribcage. You gulped and shoved your feelings down. That would only make things worse. 

“Hi,” you said, greeting both Mark and Dahyun. 

“Hey.” Mark scratched his head and straightened his posture. “What are you doing here?” 

“Well,” you started, wringing your hands in front of you. “I wanted to see if you wanted to get dinner? On me. I owe you, anyway.” 

Dahyun piped up, a mischievous smirk on her lips, “That’s a great idea. Mark was just talking about how hungry he was.

Mark cleared his throat and shot his co-worker what looked suspiciously like a glare. “No, I’m fine. You really don’t have to-” 

“Come on,” you said, hiding a smile. “How about burgers? There’s a good place around the corner. It won’t kill you to let me pay, will it?” 

You could see Mark weigh his options as he chewed his lip. Either end up hungry, settling for some quick frozen food later on, or bite the bullet and let you pay for his dinner. You knew it would hurt his pride to do so, but you wouldn’t back down. It was more than just the free room and board that you wanted to make up for. 

“Alright,” he finally agreed. “Let me grab my stuff.” 

It only took less than ten minutes for you to walk down to the burger place, but it felt like an hour as awkward silence hung around the two of you. It wasn’t until you were both seated at a corner booth inside the restaurant that you finally spoke up. 

“Listen, Mark,” you said, looking up from the packet of ketchup you’d been nervously squishing between your fingers. “About that night…” 

“No, you don’t-” Mark was quick to interrupt, but you held your hand up. 

“Just let me, okay?” You sighed. 

You’d rehearsed these words countless times in the bathroom mirror, and right now it felt like they were slipping right out of your fingers. Where were you supposed to start? With the kiss, straight away? Or getting so drunk that you’d needed to be taken care of in the first place?

“I’m just… really sorry. I was stupid to drink that much and it’s not your job to watch after me. I should be able to take care of myself.”

Mark stopped you again. “I didn’t mind taking care of you.” 

“But it’s not your job, Mark. I’m an adult, and you’re letting me stay with you and asking for nothing in return. The least I could do is make it easy on you.”

“Y/N, if you could have seen me at your age, you wouldn’t feel so bad. We all get drunk and stupid sometimes,” Mark said with a shrug. It almost relieved some of your guilt until you remembered the kiss in the bathroom. 

“Well...” You shook your head and looked back down at your hands. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him for this one. “I really shouldn’t have ki-” 

“Hi! My name’s Lana, I’ll be your server tonight. Can I get you two something to drink while you look over the menus?”

A cheerful brunette appeared in front of you, a pen behind her ear and a wide grin plastered on her face. You glanced at Mark, then up at your waitress, not sure if you were grateful for the interruption or not. 

“Um, can I just have a water?” you asked, voice small and uncomfortable in your throat. 

“Same for me,” Mark agreed. 

“Perfect! Let me know if you have any questions about the menu!” 

You let out a long breath before you were able to look at Mark again. He was biting his cheek, his lips all twisted and holding back a laugh. 

“What?” you asked. 

“Her timing,” Mark got out, just as he let go of his laughter, throwing his head back. 

To your own surprise, you found yourself shaking with laughter as well. Either from Mark’s contagious laugh giggle or the simple ridiculousness of the situation. Here you were, in a burger restaurant, apologizing to your older brother’s best friend for kissing him while you were heavily intoxicated.

You covered your face with your hands to suppress your own laughter, letting your back slump against the cushions of the booth. It all came to you then, just how silly you’d been the last two weeks. 

“I am sorry, though,” you said, after you both settled down. 

Mark’s eyes glinted as he watched you from across the table, the ghost of a smile still on his lips. “It’s alright. I mean it. Last time I was that drunk, I’m pretty sure I ran around the block in my underwear singing the Canadian national anthem.”

You giggled again at the mental image. “What? How did you even-”

“No idea. It’s like I was possessed by a drunk Canadian mischief demon.” 

It was strange to imagine Mark and Taehyung in their teen years, since you’d been so young at the time, you could barely remember anything from that time of your life. You remembered Taehyung wearing the same pair of purple skinny jeans for three months because a girl at school had told him she liked them. 

You remembered Taehyung letting you sit in the basement in your favorite cushioned chair while he and Mark played video games on the big screen. It had been your favorite place to read then, tuning out the rambunctious cries of defeat while you got lost in other worlds. 

“So we’re okay, then?” you asked, after Lana had come back to take your order and left once more. 

Mark nodded, a genuine smile on his lips. “We’re okay.” 

“Maybe it’s weird, but…” you began, staring down at the wrapped silverware on the table instead of looking Mark in the eye. “Even though I grew up seeing you as Taehyung’s friend, that feels like a lifetime ago. And now I just kind of see you as… my friend. Like somebody I can trust.” 

When you finally looked up at Mark, his expression was unreadable. His bottom lip was between his teeth, but his eyes looked somewhat uncomfortable. You worried for a second that you’d crossed a line. 

“I owe a lot to your family,” Mark said after another long moment passed. 

Even though you didn’t remember much about Mark from your childhood years, you knew his upbringing had been rough. His parents had been addicts, the kind that never should’ve been together, let alone bring a child into the world. 

You’d never met his mom, but your own mother had made enough snide comments about her after Mark had gone home for you to understand just what kind of person she was. 

“One of those low life, worthless drug addicts. Sleeping around with anyone that can help her out, if you know what I mean. Never should’ve been a mother.”

She had a funny way of showing her compassion sometimes. 

Taehyung brought him over once after school and your mother had gotten one look at his threadbare clothes and hollow cheeks and taken him in as her new project. At first, he ate dinner with your family almost every night, and then she started making Taehyung pass over his any extra clothes he’d gotten that didn’t fit properly or that he simply didn’t like.

Mark did owe a lot to your family. 

You didn’t know what to say. You’d been so young there was no way you could take credit for anything your parents had done for Mark, but still, you itched to comfort him. Even now, with the unsaid words lingering in the air, you sensed that he had never been able to fully open up to anybody. Though you didn’t deserve it, you wanted to be the first. 

“Your mom,” you found yourself saying. “Is she…?” 

Mark shook his head. “She’s gone. Passed away a couple years ago.” 

Your face fell. If anything, you had expected her to have taken off for good or maybe gotten into some trouble she couldn’t get herself out of, but you hadn’t expected her to be gone. 

“Oh, god, Mark. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

To your surprise, he only lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I hadn’t seen her in a long time before that. Maybe two, three years. Then my aunt showed up on my doorstep with a box of her things and told me she OD’d in a gas station parking lot a week before.” 

His voice wavered only slightly, but enough to tell you he cared more than he let on. You could only imagine how painful it would be to hear of your own mother’s passing a week after the fact. 

“I’m sorry,” you said again. 

Mark shook his head. “Don’t be. It’s weird,” he said, tongue running over his lower lip as he paused. “I’d stopped seeing her as my mother so long ago that… I felt like I’d already mourned her death. Fuck, that sounds bad, doesn’t it?”

“No,” you answered as you reached across the table, fingers laying across the back of Mark’s hand. “It doesn’t. At all.”

A moment passed between the two of you. You caught Mark’s eyes glancing down at your hand resting on his skin, but he made no move to avoid your touch. 

“I never even went through her things. The box is just sitting at the back of my bedroom closet collecting dust.” 

“Do you want to go through her things?” you asked. 

Mark paused, chewing at the inside of his lip before he answered. “I don’t know.”

You nodded, somehow understanding exactly what he meant. Though you hadn’t gone through the same thing, you were familiar with avoiding a potentially painful and uncomfortable situation by simply pretending it didn’t exist. Hence why you had four unopened voicemails from your brother and parents. 

You found yourself stroking the back of Mark’s hand with your thumb. It didn’t feel wrong to touch him like this, even though maybe it should have. All you wanted was to bring him a shred of the comfort he had deserved to have for much longer than you’d known him. 

“Alrighty, and here we’ve got the bacon cheeseburger and sweet potato fries for the lady,” Lana exclaimed, immediately bursting your bubble as she returned to your table with your food balanced on a tray. You were quick to snatch your hand from Mark’s. “And a BBQ cheddar burger with curly fries for the handsome man.”

You didn’t miss the way Lana winked as she placed Mark’s food in front of him. This girl was not getting a generous tip from you, that was for sure. 

“I told you, after that depressing dinner conversation, we need to do something fun,” you told Mark as you carried your skincare basket out from the bathroom into the living room.

“And this is fun for who?” 

You threw him a playful glance and plopped down onto the floor in front of the couch on your knees, setting your basket on the cushion and sifting through it. 

“Both of us. Just trust me.” 

Catching the skeptic look on Mark’s face, you could only grin to yourself as you pulled out a tube of your favorite clay mask. He didn’t know just how relaxing a good face mask could be, but you were willing to show him. 

“I’ll even go first,” you told him. 

Mark lifted his feet to prop them up on the coffee table as Milo curled up like a tiny ball of cotton on his lap. You’d both changed out of your work clothes into comfy clothes, and you couldn’t help noticing how warm Mark looked in his white joggers and oversized black hoodie. You wouldn’t mind snuggling up into that space between his side and the couch cushion… 

You sighed and shook your head, attempting to clear the less-than-platonic thoughts from your mind. If you were going to make this friendship work, you would need to stop thinking about him like that. Immediately.

“Can I ask you something?” Mark said after a beat of silence as you popped open the cap to your mask. 

“Hm?” you asked, propping your personal sized makeup mirror on the couch so that you could see yourself while you applied your mask. 

“Yugyeom’s family has a yearly pass to this campground, and every year he does this weekend camping trip…” he trailed off for a moment and you forced yourself not to react, instead focusing on applying your charcoal mask to your cheeks. “This year, it somehow ended up as a couple thing, so Dahyun suggested I invited a friend along. So…” 

Lifting your eyes from your own reflection, you watched as Mark struggled to finish his thought. 

“So…” you said, helping him along. “Are you asking me to come with you?” 

Immediately, a neon flashing red alarm screeched in your mind. ‘This is a terrible idea! You must say no!’ it screamed.

“Only if you want to. I mean, it’s a cool place. Their lot is right by this swimming hole and there’s a fire pit, so we normally bring a ton of booze and cook our own food over the fire…” 

Mark ran his fingers through his deep red locks of hair, his nerves displayed clearly on his face. You weren’t sure why he was so nervous to ask you, but it came off as incredibly endearing. Despite the warnings blaring in your mind, you found yourself nodding. 

“Okay.” 

Mark looked at you then, his eyes finally locking on yours, and the corner of his lips lifted in a hopeful smile. “Really?”

You couldn’t help grinning as well. “Yeah. I mean, on one condition…”

“Oh?” 

“Mhm,” you replied, holding up the mask tube and popping the cap back open. “You let me put this mask on you.”

“Aish,” Mark said and shook his head. “No way. Not worth it.”

“Oh, come on, you big baby!” 

You stood from the floor and climbed onto the couch, crawling to his side and squeezing some of the mask onto your index and middle fingers. “It’s not that bad!”

“Get away from me!” Mark exclaimed with a laugh, dodging your fingers. Milo hopped up onto the arm of the couch, stomping his cute little paws a few times. 

“Just let me pamper you, Mark!” 

He let out another laugh, louder this time, trying to reach for the mask to steal from your grasp, but he wasn’t fast enough. You giggled, ducking to miss his hands as he grabbed for your wrists. 

Somehow, you found yourself straddling him, thighs resting on either side of Mark’s waist. 

“Real men wear face masks!” you exclaimed with a shout of victory as you finally managed to smear a good amount of the clay mask across Mark’s left cheek. 

“Oh, you little-” he replied, hands reaching for your sides underneath the long sleeved shirt you were wearing. He tickled your sides, a joyful laugh falling from his lips when you started squealing. 

Milo yapped a few times from the arm of the chair, presumably because he thought that you were hurting Mark or vice versa, but his protective barks only made you laugh harder. 

“Mark! Stop it!” 

You gasped for breath, wriggling on top of him and dropping the mask tube, fighting between giggling and trying to swat his hands away. 

“It’s what you deserve, you sneak,” he said, his hands still squeezing and tickling your sides, unknowingly drifting further up your shirt to your ribs. 

Twisting and turning, you finally managed to grab his wrists and yanked them from under your shirt. You held them firmly in between your bodies, even though he could have easily overpowered you. 

Your chest heaved up and down with the last of your giggles. Mark stared up at you, still smiling and out of breath. The air suddenly became thick as you held eye contact, your hands falling from his wrists to his chest. 

“Y/N,” Mark whispered. 

‘Danger! Danger!’ your mind yelled. 

Mark’s hands, now free from your hold, landed on your hips. You felt his thumbs slip under the hem of your shirt, stroking the bare skin of your stomach. Your heart pounded beneath your rib cage at his gentle touch. 

“Mark,” you said, intending on telling him to stop, but it quickly died in your throat. 

His chin tipped up, making you realize just how close you were to him now. You weren’t sure who had leaned in first, but only a few mere inches separated your lips from his now. If you only bent forward a bit, you could… 

It reminded you, all of the sudden, of the kiss in the bathroom. It had been quick, but long enough for you to slide your tongue past his lips. You remembered the shock to your system the moment you had felt the cold metal of a tongue piercing. 

“Y/N,” Mark said again. “Tell me to stop.”

His voice was quiet but you felt like you could read between the lines. He didn’t want to stop, and the only way he was going to stop was if you made it clear that you didn’t want this. 

But you did. You’d wanted it from the moment he ran his fingers over the tattoo he’d inked onto your skin one of those first nights, a soft ghost of a touch that made goosebumps form on every inch of your skin. 

You weren’t stupid, you knew that this was all wrong for a variety of reasons, the least of which being that he was your roommate. But that meant nothing to you compared to the way his hands felt on your skin.

Before you could open your mouth, tell him that you didn’t want him to stop, an 8-bit version of the Mario Kart theme blasted from somewhere behind you. You jumped, your heart skipping several beats from the surprise. 

Mark took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, blinking a few times before he gently guided your hips to climb off of him. “Sorry, I should…”

The ringtone felt familiar but you couldn’t figure out why. Even as you watched Mark grab for his phone off the coffee table and immediately silence it, you wracked your brain to try and remember where you had heard that ringtone before. 

It was as if Taehyung had known, the moment that Mark quieted the little voice in his head telling him not to be so close to you and that this was wrong in so many ways, and finally accepted his feelings for you.  

Maybe he had a sixth sense. 

The moment that had passed between you then had been effectively ruined as soon as he was reminded of two things: you were his childhood best friend’s little sister, and he had already ruined your life even if you didn’t know it yet. 

But he’d been so close to giving in. You’d been on top of him, smiling in that innocently beautiful way that you did, your thighs caging in his hips. He hadn’t missed the fact that he could feel you with every inch of him, considering how he’d begged his body not to react, not to harden beneath you. Between the thin layers of his sweats and your sleep shorts, there was no way you wouldn’t notice. 

Later, after you’d grabbed a washcloth so you could both wipe the face mask off your faces and awkwardly watch TV for an hour before enough time could pass for you to realistically head off to bed, Mark listened to the voicemail Taehyung had left. 

“Hey man. I just wanted to let you know that uh, I’m going to try and head to the city and look for Y/N in a few weeks. If you see her again or have any idea where she might be, let me know. I really appreciate it, my mom’s been going crazy… anyway, maybe we can grab a drink or something once I’m in town. I’ll hit you up. Thanks again, Mark.”

Mark was glad he was in the privacy of his own bedroom when he listened to the message so you didn’t see the way he threw his phone down on the bed, muttering curse words to himself and trying to forget how heavenly you had felt on top of him. 

It was impossible. All he could think about was your skin under his fingertips, how your lips had been so soft and smooth and close to his, and how the weight of you on top of him had been enough to make him hard. 

His only option was to shut himself in the bathroom and crank the shower all the way to the coldest temperature that he could stand and pray that it would be enough to keep him from sneaking into your bedroom that night. 

[authenticmiya]

Pinky Promise - Hawk x Reader

Summary - Part 2 of Punching Bag. After all of this lost time, can the reader come to terms with the bad past she has with Hawk? Can they redeem what they had?

Words - 2k

Warnings - angst

Hawk pulled into the driveway of his house, the house you hadn’t been in for what felt like a lifetime ago. His moms car was gone, meaning it really was just the two of you.

“I bet my hair looks a mess right now.” You sighed, handing the helmet back over.

“Not as much of a mess as your knuckles, come on, let’s get you sorted.” The two of you walked towards the front door.

“Shit, I haven’t got my keys.” Hawk tapped on his pockets repeatedly, hoping they were in there.

“Under the statue of the Dalmatian.” You told him and his eyes creased together in confusion.

“Your mom always left a spare key under the Dalmatian.” Hawk was shocked that you had even remembered that.

“Don’t be surprised, the amount of times you used to lock us out, it’s hard to forget.” Hawk didn’t know how to feel. You didn’t want help, so why were you helping him?

“As much as it pains me to say, my hand is stinging like a bitch.” You admitted.

“Right, right.” He muttered, lifting the statue up and of course finding the spare keys. When he opened the door, you were hit with nostalgia.

“Nothings really changed in here.” Hawk watched as you took in everything.

“Last time I was here, you slammed the door in my face.” Hawk swallowed the lump in his throat. That night was the some what end of your friendship together. It wasn’t his transition into Hawk, it was who he became when he was Hawk.

“I shouldn’t have let you leave like that Y/N-“ He began.

“But you did and we both said some hurtful shit.” Hawk nodded and allowed you to follow him into the kitchen.

“There is no way your mom still has this on the fridge.” You gasped at the picture of you and Eli at Golf N Stuff when you were both five.

“You beat my ass at Golf every-time we went there.” He chuckled and a small smile formed on your lips. Noticing he had got the first aid kit out, you perched yourself on the counter.

“This is gonna sting like a bitch.” Hawk prepared you as he wiped away the blood and applied some anti-septic over the cuts.

“That’s the first thing you’ve been right about in months.” Your sarcastic, rude remarks were expected and Hawk took them. He couldn’t exactly say you were wrong, because the only thing coming out of your mouth, was the truth. Wrapping a small amount of bandage over the wounds, Hawk was finished being your doctor.

“Thank-you.” You said, before hopping off of the counter and heading towards the front door.

“Not so fast Y/N, I said once I finished with your knuckles, you and I were talking.” Hawk stopped you.

“I’m not gonna talk to you if you’re gonna be an asshole about it.” You snapped.

“Okay I’m sorry, please can we just talk? No arguing, no nothing, just a conversation.” You chewed the inside of your mouth and hesitantly nodded.

“What happened that night, Y/N I can never forgive myself. I have this whole badass reputation you know? It’s not an excuse, it never was and it will never be. I never should’ve let that take over what we could’ve had.” Hawk told you once the two of you had sat down on the couch.

“What we could’ve had? Are you serious? Eli, Hawk, whatever you wanna be fucking called. You and I were best friends. I mean the best of friends throughout our entire childhoods. We were each-others rocks when it came to the bullying, nah scratch that, you, me and Demetri.” He knew you were trying to pick a fight, but he wasn’t going to give a reaction. He was the one who done dirty, and now he was coming to his senses.

“I shouldn’t have let it come to any of that, we were meant to rise to the top together.” Hawk frowned, now noticing how sad you felt.

“If what you are now, is at the top, I wanna stay at rock bottom.” You told him with a sigh.

“I can’t change what I’ve done to you Y/N or Demetri, I can’t do anything about what I’ve already done. But I can try and avoid it from happening again.” Hawk tried to hold your hand but you shrugged him off.

“You know when mom left me all them years ago? I thought I felt heartbreak for the first time, but when you knew what you were doing to us.” You referred to yourself and Demetri.

“That’s when I felt heartbreak. Knowing you thought it was alright to become the bully. Them nerds? Them nerds you were once apart of. You were in their shoes, and now you’ve put them in the position that nobody should have to go through. At first you though it was badass, but now, you’re a massive dick.” You ranted.

“It’s taken you this long. It’s taken me getting a few cuts for you to realise you were in the wrong this entire time?” Hawk felt like he could cry, he done you so dirty.

“Y/N please-“ It took him every ounce not to just break down in tears in front of you.

“I had no one to go to.” A tear slipped out of your eye and Hawk felt his whole world come crashing down on him.

“I mean I had Demetri, but you know how awkward he gets. You’re the one who would sit there for hours on hours to listen to me and understand my problems, and when you left, I had no one.” You confessed.

“Sure I had Miguel but he was always busy with Karate and Sam, and yeah I guess you could say Johnny is a father figure in my life, but I wasn’t with him everyday like I was with you.” You sniffled, wiping away at the tears that kept building up.

“I have enough money in my bank account to support my bills for maybe half a month. Once my money goes, I’ve lost everything.”

“No you haven’t. Don’t ever fucking say that. You have me. Y/N, you will always have me.” Hawk couldn’t stress that enough but his actions hadn’t really made that clear in the past.

“So that’s it yeah? I let you back in my life and suddenly I have to trust you not to leave? Not to slam the door in my face? Not to drop me like a bag of potatoes again?” You questioned him.

“I needed you and you weren’t there.” You frustratedly disclosed with him.

“I wasn’t there when I had to be. I’ve got so much lost time to make up for, that’s if you’ll let me. I know I wasn’t there, and that is really suffocating me with regret. You did everything for me Y/N. You never left my side, even when all the popular girls wanted to be your friend, you shook them off and stuck by me. I treated you like shit and I’m so sorry.” Now this was the side of Eli that you hadn’t been familiar with for a very, very long time.

“I guess it’s true what they say when you don’t know what you have until it’s gone, right?” You asked him.

“That quote is gonna haunt me for the rest of my life.” From then it was silence. It didn’t feel awkward, yet it just didn’t feel peaceful either.

“I’m willing to forgive this, to try and come to terms with the new you just as long as you promise me one thing-“ Before you could finish the sentence, the front door opened and shut.

“Honey are you home?” Hawks mom called out, and your eyes widened. You hadn’t seen his mom in forever.

“Eli?” She went to call again, but stopped dead in her tracks when she realised you were sat next to him.

“Well god have mercy on me, Y/N? What are you doing here?” She excitedly rushed over and embraced you. The women who was there for every bullshit excuse your ‘parents’ had. It was your turn to feel bad now, because when you lost Eli, you hardly ever spoke to his mom.

“Hi Momma M.” You smiled as the hug lasted as long as it possibly could.

“I can’t believe you’re here! How are you? How’s your dad?” She asked and you gulped.

“I’m okay, he kinda up and left, got married to a women in Dubai.” You told her.

“He’s always been such a goddam slime ball.” She scoffed, quickly brushing that off and letting her calm demeanour take over. It seemed that everyone you knew, had the exact same opinion on your ‘dad’, even before you knew he was going to be permanently out of your life.

“Don’t worry, I beat the crap out of a punching bag.” Your comment made her chuckle, but that would never stop her from worrying about you.

“I’m not gonna ask questions as to why you two are even in the same room right now, but I’d really appreciate if you stayed long enough for us to have a chat Y/N. You’re a good kid, like the daughter I never had. I’ve missed you.” She smiled.

“Don’t worry, let’s go have a catch-up.” She brought you through to the kitchen and poured you a cold orange juice, leaving Hawk to wander about in his feelings in the living room.

“I know what happened between you two.” She began and you chuckled.

“Thought you weren’t gonna ask questions Momma M.” You took a sip of your drink with a slight smirk.

“Not in front of him, this is strictly girl talk.” She pointed out.

“Eli’s transformation was obviously a huge shock, and although I don’t agree with his actions, he��s still my baby, and I had to get used to everything he was doing. I let him do his own thing you know? Try to let him find himself. But believe me when I say he had one huge scolding when I found out about you and him.” His mom admitted to you.

“Me coming here today, was because he didn’t want me suffering through the night with sore hands.” You told her.

“And something as simple as that, means a lot to him. You trusted him enough to come back here Y/N. That’s a start.” She wasn’t on anyone’s sides, she just wanted what was best for you both.

“I suppose I didn’t really wanna go back to a dark apartment.” You laughed, forgetting that she didn’t know.

“That deadbeat isn’t helping you with the apartment anymore is he? That’s why you have no electricity.” Eli’s mom couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“I’ve never wanted sympathy, you know that. I don’t want people feeling bad for me.” You sighed.

“I don’t care Y/N, you’re gonna go pack up your stuff and you’re gonna come and stay here.” She was completely serious.

“I can’t just do that, not after everything with Eli. I can’t intrude on you, this is your home not mine.” You were so appreciative of this women, but the offering made you feel bad.

“You’ve never known how to take anything offered to you. Remember Y/N, I’ve known you since you were a little bump on your mom’s belly.” You couldn’t help but wrap your arms around her.

“That’s if it’s alright with you?” His mom said and you turned around to see Hawk watching.

“I don’t think I could want anything more.” He smiled lightly. You walked over to him, and for the first time in forever, you hugged him. He was hesitant at first, but was quick to wrap you in a tight embrace. Hawk never wanted this moment to end.

“You can have the guest bedroom, or maybe share a room with Eli when you get married one day? You can have any room you want apart from mine.” His mom said excitedly as the two of you were still hugging.

“Long shot for marriage Mom!”

“You’ve gotta promise me, that you and I won’t forget this, but we will forgive this. We got over the bullying, we can get over this. Okay?” You held up your little finger, he hooked his over yours as you two sealed the pack with a pinky promise.

“We can do this.” And you couldn’t help the chuckle that fell from your lips as his mom squealed in his excitement.

Maybe things were gonna change for the good rather than the bad this time.

[antiloreolympus]

13 Anti LO Asks

1. ok but thats seriously what bugs me so much about LO, it never actually lets serious moments be serious, it's always lampooned by rachel's insistent need to force in her juvenile "humor" and never actually depicting how pressing things are. even the following moments from persephone's r//pe was undercut by hades making stupid puns! i understand if rachel cant write something more serious than "[x] is bad" but if thats so, then dont try it? because thats how you end up with this pretentious mess.

2. since when did lo hades have earrings??? i legit do not remember this ever being a thing??? is he trying to be hip with the kids 😭my man you still look like a crusty old man the earrings arent helping 😭

3. lo hermes looks and acts like flaky from happy tree friends and no thats not a compliment (TW for gore, blood, and violence if any of you google it)

4. Even though the earlier art style was better there are still some cursed panels from the earlier pages that still haunt me. Especially the way Persephone was drawn differently in so many of the panels.

5. lo hades has such "how do you do fellow kids" energy and im not sure why

6. im also confused on the fertility goddess stuff because how stupid is persephone if she didnt notice? she can create life and nature without even thinking and shes implied to be a genius in biology, so how would she not even notice this? if RS really wants to go with this plot, then why have her professor bring it up in class? why not show persephone going to her uni's library to research the topic and pouring over it? that's an easy way to show persephone's intelligence, yet LO doesnt even try.

7. What I wanna know in LO was how Demeter and Hestia were compensated after the war. The three brothers got to be kings and Hera is queen, but what we know of Demeter is that she had a millionaire dollar business that’s probably made it on its own (unless she was helped out) and then Hestia all we really know about her is that she runs that TOGEM and idk if there’s only 4 of them, Hestia really had a group by herself for a bit since Athena is Zeus’ (assumed) daughter, Artemis (Zeus’ assumed daughter) and persphone (newest member) which seems shitty since they won a war together

8. I think what happened with LO’s art style was RS got “lazy” (I’m lacking the right word). I feel like without the colors all of the men in LO have the same body type, and Hermès and Apollo may even have the same face if they smile the same. So to compensate for that lack of body diversity, RS doubled down on Hades’ features to make him stand out more to really show he’s the male lead. However, even in her own words he looks like Persphones’ “dusty ass dad”

The women use to be a little different but they’re all starting to blend with body types. Her was small, but now she’s short and busty like Persphone. RS makes Persphone look short and busty all the time but almost childlike. Minthe was skinny but her last moments she was busy. Aphrodite I feel was just busty but then tried to make her look small also with Ares and Hades beside her. Hestia stayed the same but is still small and busty. Athena was tall and thin (?) but now she’s tall but busty (and her relationship with Hestia looks like it mirrors HXP). Idk I just feel like the longer screen time the female characters get the more they start mirroring Persphone’s look. Like even Artemis was getting empathized on being small next to her brother Apollo. Like all the girls gotta look small but curvy as the story goes on. 

9. Demeter: watched her friend get ripped in half. Watched her friend get continually cheated on, paying the price for not hiding a mistress , watched metis get eaten, her back clawed, fought in a war. Later made a daughter who’s a fertility goddess (probably an accident) and now has to raise her. That same daughter then went on a rampage and isn’t really remorseful

Fans: Demeter is such an overbearing mother who gets in the way of our ship.

10. on regards to ace characters, asexuality is a spectrum like everything else, so a lot of asexuals actually do enjoy and have sex, so the maidens doing so isnt inherently a problem, its the fact rachel is clearly viewing it through a strict binary where she assumes asexuality is something that can be "fixed" over time/when the right person comes along. its also a bad modern reading of it, as "virginity" in an ancient sense meant via marriage, not via sex, but I doubt rachel cares to factcheck it.

11. Imagine an elf is given a job to do at a human institution. The humans think elves don’t need bathroom breaks, since they know they can hold it for days, but this elf has been traveling to reach their job, and has already been holding it to the point they are in pain. They ask for a break, but their job is important and time sensitive, so they admit they can still hold it when asked. After a full day of work, the elf tries to reach the bathroom in time, but they were never told where it is.

From OP: I think this might be a nymph allegory? Anon never specified so I'll put this here anyway.

12. ya know if hades has to lie to make apollo seem worse (who does not need much in this comic) its like??? why is he persephone's lawyer then?? lawyers are literally told not to lie, this is basic law 101. thats why they dont want their clients to mention to them if they actually did the crimes because then the lawyers have to say it in court. if hades lies so casually just to keep persephone away from justified punishment, then thats bad actually!  both in being a decent person and as a lawyer!

From OP: Hades didn’t lie but he was definitely out of line. RS liked a tweet saying that the wife thing was “subconscious” so it probably was. (Still doesn’t make it right but I doubt he’d say those things on the stand.)

13. I know Minthe was written in a way she was suppose to be unlikesable, she’s rude, she yells and she doesn’t hesistate. HOWEVER RS wrote her character badly. Minthe is so unliked? How was she able to be a bad gf to hades and Thanatos? Like yes it’s an affair but how was she able to pull 2 gods?! We don’t hear Hades or Thanatos say what they like about her BUT they both still had a fling with her. (Honestly I feel it’s cause RS can’t bare writing one nice thing about the female anatangoist without trying to make Persphone look good)

The other thing bothering me was everyone knew about her relationship with Hades after she put it on fatesbook, but everyone talked about the kiss in such a positive light IN FRONT OF HER. Aren’t they suppose to be scared of her? Why did the girls in the yoga class/dress shop had so much to say about that kiss? Because they knew persphone? Did they know every other detail too? What was their actual beef with Minthe?

I feel like realistically some more characters would have sympathy for Minthe if they didn’t know her that well because of Hera. Everyone knows Hera is a pill to deal with and she’s the goddess of marriage who hasn’t really tried bringing Minthe and Hades to the alter. That right there should let everyone know that Hera probably doesn’t help the situation.

Idk, I feel like RS could have gone deeper and made the character not such HXP shippers cause most people wouldn’t cheer for cheating nor an old ass guy getting with a 19 year old. (Idk how fast the news of the slap spread, but I doubt it made it to every place in their fictional world)

[the-cheese-writes]

Makeover ~ Prinxiety

TW: Deadnaming, transphobia, mentions of dysphoria, one use of bad language

Word count: 3148

A/N:

Virgil is mtf and lesbian and Roman is now a girl called Rowan :3

Hope you enjoy this fluffy fic that was actually inspired by a scene from Burlesque.

~ Bre

----------

“Virgil! Can you help your father with something please?” Cringing at her deadname, Vera closed her notebook and stashed it away before calling back to her mother.

“Coming mum!” When she got downstairs, she saw her dad holding up a shelf on the wall and holding out a screwdriver for her.

“Virgil!” She cringed again. “There you are. Come help me with this,” her father said. Taking the screwdriver, she grabbed a few nails from the box and screwed them into place, twisting firmly until they were secure.

Stepping back, she smiled a little at her dad and handed back the tool. “Thanks son. You seem to know the basics, which is great! Diy skills are a great trait to have in a husband. Whoever your wife will be one day will be happy.”

Though she was crying inside, Vera nodded and plastered the best smile she could for her parents before turning around and quickly heading back up to her room. She was on the brink of tears and as soon as she closed her door, she broke down, feeling an overwhelming wave of discomfort and utter hatred for herself and her body wash over her.

Her parents would never understand. How could they? They were cisgender heterosexuals; they could never fully understand the dysphoria people like her had. How damaging it was, how detrimental it could be to her and her mental health and how pronouns were so much bigger and meaningful than mere words.

Knowing she couldn’t take this alone, Vera texted her best friend, Rowan and asked if she could come over. Within seconds, she got a reply and Rowan, being the gracious princess of a girl she was, said that she could.

Grabbing her hoodie, Vera made her way down and out the door, telling her parents where she was going before she left.

“Mum, Dad, I’m going to Rowan’s,” she said as she grabbed her keys from the shelf.

“Okay sweetie! See you later,” her mum replied. For a moment, Vera thought she had survived and quietly exhaled relievedly. But unfortunately, her satisfaction didn’t last long.

“Bye son!” She heard her father call just before she fully closed the door. 

And that tipped the scale. 

A waterfall of silent tears plummeted down her face as all her pent up feelings of bitterness and disdain crashed down with them. She sobbed soundlessly through the streets all the way to Rowan’s house, her hood hiding her face and tears from everyone who passed.

Those who gave her a small look, whether it be from sympathy or disgust, didn’t bother talking to her, but that was just as well, because she couldn’t deal with social interaction at that moment. All she cared about was reaching Rowan because, as far as she was concerned, she was the only person who would be able to comfort her and know what to do.

Vera considered knocking at the front door, but then she realised that Rowan’s parents might be home, and she definitely didn’t want them seeing her in her ruined state. So she climbed in through the window, as she usually did, because if you don’t go into your best friend’s home through the window, are you guys even best friends?

Hearing rustling outside, Rowan smirked and turned around on her chair after she heard her window open.

“Really? Coming in through the window? Why did you need to put in all that effort when you could have just simply walked through the door…” Rowan’s voice trailed off once she saw Vera’s tear stained cheeks and messy hair through her purple plaid-pattern patched hood.

“Virgil?” She instantly ran forward and hugged her.

Vera knew she meant well, but Rowan accidentally deadnaming her only brought forward more tears to the table and she broke down in her friend’s arms.

They sank to the floor, Rowan holding her the whole time and when they eventually pulled away from the hug, Rowan took Vera’s hands in her own and lowered her hood.

“Hey, hey,” Rowan said softly, rubbing the back of Vera’s hands with her thumb, then wiping away a few tears from her cheeks. “What’s wrong hun?”

Looking down at their hands, Vera stared at them and blushed a bit at the feeling of Rowan’s gentle, ever-comforting touch on her skin. She gazed up at the gorgeous girl in front of her and shook like a leaf as she considered telling her best friend her biggest secret.

Revealing to Rowan what Vera had been wanting to tell her for so long could potentially put a strain on their friendship and Vera had such a strong bond with Rowan - she didn’t want to lose it. But she figured that one day, Rowan would find out the truth, so why not now, when they were in their teen years and could still live life to the fullest?

“I…” Vera began and Rowan leaned in in anticipation. “I was… deadnamed.” Holding her breath, Vera anxiously glanced up at her friend through her bangs. Rowan’s expression was unreadable at first, but then a confused look was painted across her face.

“Deadnamed… but that’s what happens when-” she mumbled, then cut herself off, realising what Vera had just told her. She stared at her with wide eyes. “Are you saying that… that-”

Vera nodded, bucket loads of tears springing through her eyes. “I’m trans.”

She cried into her palms and braced herself for the worst, knowing what Rowan’s reaction would be.

‘You’re trans? How can you be trans? You were born a boy so you’ll stay a boy.”

“Trans? But you’re 16 you’re just confused. Give it a few more years you’ll grow out of it,”

“Are you sure you aren’t just interested in girl stuff?”

“How can you expect me to just suddenly use these pronouns for you now? Do you know how hard that is?”

She would be just like her parents and then she would lose everyone. Her loved ones, her friends and most likely her home. Frantic thoughts churned around her mind as she quietly cried.

‘I’ll be homeless, unloved, forgotten, discarded, abandoned I’ll never-’

A pair of warm arms wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her in for a kind embrace, halting her train of worries. Weeping into her friend’s shoulder, Vera allowed Rowan to hold her, stroke her hair and comfort her, washing away all her negative thoughts with a single touch.

“I’m so sorry I deadnamed you. You’re no more different to me than you were before. I still see you and view you exactly the same,” said Rowan in a soft voice, calming Vera’s frenzied nerves. “You’re my best friend and I’d never trade for even the biggest diamond in the world, even though that’s already you.”

Taking Vera’s face in her hands, Rowan wiped away more tears from her cheeks and this time, they finally stopped falling. There was a beat of silence. Vera hung her head and steadied herself and her breathing.

“Do you have a new name?” asked Rowan after she saw Vera compose herself.

“Yeah,” she answered, fidgeting with her hands. “It’s Vera.”

Rowan gasped and smiled, placing a hand to her chest. “Girl, that’s a gorgeous choice.”

Hearing Rowan nickname her ‘Girl’ sparked a new and welcome feeling in Vera. It felt freeing, ecstatic, joyous and her whole soul was more jubilant than it ever had been before.

It’s funny how much one small word can affect a person.

“Thanks,” she beamed. “I wanted to choose something unique and interesting. ‘Vera’ just stood out to me.”

“And it fits you like a glove,” Rowan added almost instantly, without any hesitation. Blushing, Vera looked down and hid her face.

“You can still call me Vee though. I always liked that nickname,” she said, laughing softly.

“Whatever you want, Vera,” said Rowan, smiling and Vera delightfully grinned back. Suddenly, Rowan’s face fell and raised a hand to her cheek. “Oh no. Your concealer and eye shadow’s wiping away…”

“It’s nothing, just makeup I’ll live,” Vera chuckled softly, holding Rowan’s hand on her face.

“Nothing? Nothing?? Makeup is more than just nothing. It makes us feel dazzling, beautiful, stunning and just downright gorgeous.” Raising her hands and moving them flamboyantly, Rowan stood up and walked to her drawers and opened the top one. She seemed to be searching for something, Vera noticed, hearing the rustles and movement.

“Hmm,” Rowan hummed quietly. Vera tilted her head, intrigued.

“What’s up?”

“I’m running low on eyeshadow and other makeup supplies.”

“Wait, didn’t you just buy some new ones 2 months ago?” asked Vera. Rowan just went silent.

“Your point being?” she eventually replied, turning around with her hands on her hips and Vera giggled. Smiling at her laugh, Rowan then grabbed a bag from her chair - that was unsurprisingly already packed - and took her best friend’s hand.

“Where are we going?”

“Out. I’m giving you a makeover,” Rowan said with a smirk, before pulling Vera out the door with her.

After she grabbed her keys and said goodbye to her parents, the two girls walked to the town centre, discussing Vera’s sense of style along the way. Rowan seemed to understand her preferences and when they arrived at the mall, she got to work straight away buying all the clothes that would look great on her.

“Vee look at this!” Holding up a black skirt, Rowan showed it to her friend, who beamed at the sight of it.

“Ro I love it!” She then lowered it to her waist to measure.

“It seems like it’s your size. Wanna try it on?” All of a sudden, Vera’s anxiety spiked. It was then that she remembered that, though she was a girl, she still looked like a boy to those around her.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? I mean…” she gestured to herself and Rowan’s eyes softened in sympathy. Gently, she held Vera’s shoulders.

“I understand Vee. I’m not gonna ask you to do anything you’re not comfortable with yet. We can just try it on back at my place,” she reassured comfortingly in a soft voice, melting Vera’s heart and walls. She blushed and smiled back, then Rowan held up the skirt. “So we’re getting it?” she asked eagerly and Vera nodded.

After around an hour and a half later of shopping, Vera looked down at the three bags they had. They didn’t buy a lot, since she had found a way to reuse most of her old clothes, but purchased a decent amount of new, more feminine clothes. To finish their shopping spree, they were lastly going to buy some makeup for them both.

But Vera felt a little guilty seeing that Rowan had spent all her savings on her. She knew that Rowan wouldn’t want her too, but she couldn’t help it.

“Hey Ro?” Vera said. Rowan hummed in response and turned her head. “I appreciate all of this, I do. But you really didn’t need to bother yourself so much with me-”

“Ahem? Back. The hell. Up.” Rowan suddenly stopped in her tracks and raised her free hand, pointing up her index finger. Vera couldn’t stop the smile etching onto her face from her amusing actions as she turned around to her. (She had stopped a couple steps ahead.) Rowan was always an extravagant queen; Vera didn’t know why she didn’t expect this to happen.

“I very much did need to bother myself with you,” Rowan stated, taking a few paces forward towards her. “This shopping session was to help get your mind off all the current shit happening in your life, since it’s not fair that it’s all happening to you. I’m here to help build your confidence, however I can, and obviously clothes play a big role in it.” She held up the bag she was holding and Vera chuckled. However, her face quickly fell.

“But.. your money-”

“Was well spent. Whatever I was saving up for doesn’t matter anymore and in actual fact I can’t remember what it was, nor do I even care now! All I know is that I spent it well and on a beautiful, gorgeous, caring, sweet girl,” said Rowan, emphasising the word ‘girl’ and making Vera beam. She hugged her friend tighter than she ever had before and when she pulled away, a bold thought suddenly crossed her mind as their eyes met, but she hastily swiped it away.

“Come on.” Rowan took her hand and led her to their last store. “Let’s finish our shopping session.”

***

“Are you done yet?” Rowan called from outside her room. Vera was inside, trying on the clothes they had bought and this was her final outfit. She was so excited to see her new friend in all her gorgeous glory and Vera had teased that this was definitely her favourite clothing combination. Rowan waited impatiently for her, tapping her feet and leaning against the door.

“Almost!”

After around 15 more seconds, Vera finally said, “Alright! You can come in now!” and Rowan wasted no time in opening the door. She gasped and froze in shock and awe.

“Vera… you look so marvellous,” she said, barely any louder than a whisper. Vera had managed to steal her breath away, merely by just standing there.

She wore a purple, oversized printed t-shirt accompanied by the black and white grid skirt they saw earlier. A pair of black lace-up boots sat at her feet and black mesh tights covered her legs, and to top it all off, Vera wore a few silver chains around her neck, accentuating her whole look and a couple of silver earrings too.

To put it simply, Rowan was starstruck.

“Thanks,” Vera said shyly, looking down to hide her burning blush. “I wish my hair was a little longer though.” Blowing a few chocolate strands out of her view, Vera reached up a twirled a couple as Rowan took some steps closer.

“I think you’d look exquisite either way and, to be honest, I kinda prefer this look more with a pixie cut. It suits you,” she said with a sweet smile, which Vera returned.

“Thank you Ro.”

Rowan then pulled her over to her bed and sat her down as she searched in their bags for their newest makeup items. She handed Vera a brush and her concealer and foundation, but Vera pushed them back.

“Actually, can you do it this time? It’s not that I’m uncomfortable or anything, but I just wanted you to do it, “ she said innocently, gazing up with wide eyes. 

“U-uh. Sure. Okay,” Rowan stuttered. Gingerly, she reached up and brushed Vera’s hair out of her face, their eyes momentarily locking, then gave her a headband to wear. “What do you want?” she asked after Vera had put it on.

“Um, I dunno. Surprise me,” Vera winked and Rowan smirked, then set to work.

The two played Disney songs as Rowan worked and sang to their hearts’ content, but occasionally smudged a few aspects of the look in doing so. Rowan didn’t mind though. As long as they were having fun, she didn’t mind if Vera accidentally messed it up a thousand times. As long as she got to see her smile.

When she was finished, Rowan got a mirror and handed it to Vera. “Take a look.” And she did, gasping quietly as she admired her eyeshadow and most of all, her lips. They were a kind of ombre tone - lined black and gradually fading into a subtle burgundy red.

“Jee-muh-nattie Ro, you really outdid yourself here. Colour me impressed!”

“Thanks Vee,” Rowan grinned. “The lipstick should be dry by now.” She then started tidying her things and packing up her brushes and new palette, storing them back in their drawer. Vera was still admiring her appearance in Rowan’s full-body mirror when she finished cleaning up. Truth be told, Rowan loved how much Vera was loving her looks and who she saw in the mirror. It wasn’t every day that she was so confident, and Rowan was so glad to see a shift in her self-esteem.

“You look absolutely stunning, you know,” she complimented as she sat back down on her bed, making Vera’s face instantly flush.

“Thank you Ro, for everything you’ve done for me today,” Vera said as she joined her.

“Ah, it was nothing,” Rowan waved it away, but Vera shook her head.

“No, seriously. You don’t know how much it’s helped me.” She took her friend’s hands in her own. “I don’t know what I would do without you, I’m not sure what I would have done in that moment if you weren’t there to help me. Thank you so much from the bottom of my heart Ro, for all you’ve done since day one.”

Tilting her head slightly, Rowan smiled kindly at her best friend, feeling her face heart up the longer she stared. “And thank you for being the incredibly charming little cherub you are!” she replied, booping Vera’s nose and causing her to giggle.

Her expression soon turned to concern however, as she remembered that Vera didn’t actually live with her (unfortunately). “Vera, what are you going to do when you get home? Won’t your parents think spitefully when they see you like this?”

Looking down, Vera furrowed her eyebrows worriedly, all the while grasping Rowan’s hands. “I’m not sure. I don’t really know what I’m gonna do, because they obviously are too scared to accept me.” Rowan nodded understandably. “But, right now I just want to focus on now, and being here with you and spending the best minutes of my life with you.”

“As do I,” replied Rowan, raising Vera’s knuckles up to her lips and kissing them softly, flustering her.

Then their eyes locked, again, and they lost themselves in each other’s eyes. Suddenly the world was still and quiet, the wind stopped blowing and the room around them faded away. And before they knew it, they were kissing.

It was sweet and juvenile, like them, and their lips moved perfectly together, fitting flawlessly like pieces in a puzzle. Rowan raised a hand to Vera’s cheek, slowly sliding it down to her neck, whilst Vera grabbed her opposition’s waist, pulling her in closer ever-so-gently.

After a couple minutes they pulled away, muted by shock and the butterflies dancing in their stomachs. Rowan was the one to break the silence, laughing breathlessly and grinning, Vera soon doing the same. She hesitantly looked up, their eyes meeting again and Rowan grazed a tender hand on her cheek, which Vera leaned into.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” she said lovingly, completely entranced. “Be my girlfriend?”

“Of course!” Vera replied excitedly, almost instantly and lunged at Rowan, encasing her in a hug but causing them to tumble off the bed and onto the floor in a laughing heap.

[vanillann]

right where you left me (bucky barnes x reader)

someone tell me to stop writing sad 40s!bucky fics that aren’t even that good, thank :)

warning: bad angst and mention of death

based off “right where you left me” by taylor swift

word count: 1.7k

Bucky coughed lightly from the other side of the table, the waiter finally leaving us to sit with ourselves. I smiled, my finger playing with the napkin that sat in front of me.

“How’s the salad?”

I frowned at the weird tension that had grown between us recently, conversation and looks not the same they once were.

“Good, how is the steak?”

“Dry but good.”

The conversation ran out again, the check balancing on the edge of the table as we both sat waiting for something to happen, anything at this point.

“(Y/N)?”

“Bucky?” I leaned back in the booth, folding my finger as I waited for some sort of words to fall from his lips.

“I really need to talk to ya,” he trailed off, coughing again as he grabbed the check and began playing with the little piece of paper.

“About?”

“Us.”

My heart dropped, I wasn’t stupid. Everyone would know how a conversation like this would go, it was obvious we hadn’t been the same but I thought we would fix it by now.

“What happened?” I didn’t move, my eyes piercing thought him as I waited for some sort of lame excuse, some excuse about the war or something.

“I- I,” he trailed off again, finally put the checkbook down and let himself cross his arm, setting them on the table. He looked up at him, his eyes looked so broken and I couldn’t tell you why he was walking away, not me.

“There this girl-“ I drowned everything else out, his mouth was moving but I couldn’t put words to it. The room suddenly slowed down, the room suddenly felt like a box I had been taped in.

“A girl?”

“Dottie, she is a doll,” yes please talk about this new lover of yours, exactly what I need to hear.

I knew I was overthinking everything, but I could feel eyes on me. The check was long forgotten as he went on and on.

“Steve told me I should put you through more unnecessary pain,” he spoke his piece, finally shutting up for a second.

How do you respond to that?

“Dottie,” I repeated the name, my eyes drifting to the window that was across the room, making out that the sun had finally set and the stars were out.

“I’m so sorry (Y/N), you deserve better-“

“You could have been better for me if you loved me,” I spoke softly, my words felt harsher than intended but I could do much more than that.

I felt sympathy for the doll in the kid’s section, the doll that was stuffed in the box to very leave that single moment in their life.

“I’ll always love you, it’s just not the same.” Bucky reached across the table, leaving his hand open for me to squeeze back, his way of removing his guilt.

“Yeah, okay.”

I was pissed, maybe I didn’t have the right but maybe that was the biggest thing I was allowed at this moment.

“(Y/N),” his words felt like forever ago, my stares went.

“I’m fine Barnes, I’ll get a cab. Please just leave.”

He’s titled his head, begging me to just come with him but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t sit in a car, in his passenger seat that she most likely once sat in, and act like my heart wasn’t ruined.

“I can call Steve,” I simply nodded, Steve was still my friend and I wouldn’t have to worry about catching a cab this late in the late night.

“Okay,” he said nothing else, leaving the money for the tab thankfully, I would have killed him if he left it to me.

“I’m sorry again (Y/N), it’s not you but me,” that he stood from the booth, moving the hat that sat on his head around a little more before he took it off completely, bowing to me quickly, then leaving the restaurant completely.

It’s not you but me.

What a bullshit line, what a bullshit line for a bullshit break up. I looked back out the window on the other side of the restaurant, seeing him standing in the phone booth most likely calling Steve.

Or maybe he was calling Dottie, telling her they could be together.

Maybe it was selfish of me, to be mad at him for choosing his own happiness, but I had only wished my own way at the expense.

I couldn’t be mad at Bucky, I most certainly couldn’t be mad at Dottie. She did nothing wrong, she was just a girl who loved a boy. A boy who no longer loved me.

I felt as if dust had collected on my shoulder for how long I sat at the booth. My eyes roamed the room and not a single waiter or waitress tried telling me to leave. 

I felt the time had frozen before I felt a small tap on my shoulder, my eye-catching sight of familiar blonde hair.

“Hey,” his voice was soft, as it had always been, but this time was much different.

“Hi,” I was shocked at my own voice, the little crack made my hand run over my throat.

“Have you moved since he left?”

I shocked my head, my eyes never leaving that stupid window since I watched his back walk away.

“Sorry you had to come down to collect me,” the sarcasm dripped from my voice, I always got this way when I was upset.

“You’re the only person I’d do it for,” I knew he would do it for Bucky too, but he refuses to actually say his name.

“He just left Stevie,” I felt the tears play behind my eyes, Steve finally pulling at my hand. I stood up, both of us finally leaving that booth in the corner of the restaurant.

It was suddenly my least favorite spot in the world.

I played with the end of the menu, that window in the same spot it was all that time ago.

It felt like it was forever ago at least.

The news played through the speaker over the door, the name of all the fallen of the war.

I was suddenly happy my friend was a super-human, taking down his chance of being called.

“Jeffery Rhode-“ the name rang through the room, my hand grabbing my glass of water as I waited for my salad to come out.

“George Teller, James Barnes-“

I felt myself choke, my hand flying to my throat as I heard the name called. Only a few more followed but I didn’t have it in me to pay attention.

James Barnes.

A fallen soldier.

Fallen meant dead, he was dead.

I felt tears slip down my cheek, my eyes trained back out that stupid window. My brain played with me, acting as if I would still see him in that phone booth.

I couldn’t comprehend my thoughts. How did it always happen in this corner? Why were all my worst moments stuck here?

“May we have a moment of silence for the fallen soldier.”

I needed more than a moment, I needed a lifetime. I wonder how Steve felt, how Dottie felt.

Was he even still with Dottie?

Why couldn’t I wrap my head around it?

“Here’s your salad,” the older woman, the one who recognized me by now, placed the salad before me with a little sad smile. I couldn’t even nod at her, couldn’t even thank her.

I wished she had bought a steak out too, just to know he was there. Even if I knew he would leave me, I would rather have that than him leaving all of us.

“Buck,” I spoke mostly to myself, still coming to terms with everything.

I hope he heard me from somewhere, to know I wasn’t made anymore.

I looked to my wrinkled hand on the table cloth, waited for that stupid salad like I did every time.

The old phone booth from outside was now gone, instead sat at an ATM that was in high demand. I was shocked the restaurant hadn’t gotten torn down yet, but once I noticed the picture with Steve on the corkboard I knew exactly what happened.

The music was different than it once was, the old 40s music was now much different. They would occasionally play a few older songs, ones that made me feel like that poor broke soul again.

I didn’t understand why I kept going back, it was starting to be pathetic but I couldn’t care. It was the only place I understood.

I was stuck in my own nightmare, yet I was doing it to myself at this point.

I heard the bell above the door ring but I didn’t have it in me to turn and look at who it was. I had become familiar with the regulars over the years that would visit the place often.

I watched a raven-haired man walk up to the ATM. I recognized him as Tony Stark, you knew a face like that anywhere. I was shocked he was in town but my thought was distracted when I heard looking boots approaching my table.

I looked up casually, thinking it would be a waiter. I didn’t recognize the hair at first, the long dark hair that looked softer than silk, but the face was the same.

The little stumbled and the same piercing eyes that I could never forget, the same ones that broke my heart twice within one lifetime.

“It’s me-“

“Buck?”

I didn’t get up with the Avenger stuff, Steve told me little things but other than that I was completely separate from that lifestyle.

“Yeah,” he looked nervous, something I never used to with him, he wasn’t a nervous person.

Not with me, not with Steve, probably not with Dottie.

“Can I sit?”

I nodded, watching as he took the seat he took at those years ago. He was dressed differently, the red shirt and the dark jeans were different from the army green suit he wore proudly.

“It’s your seat after all,” I spoke softly, watching him nod to me with a sad smile.

“Steve said you come here often.”

I didn’t respond, still looking at him with a pout and my head was starting to hurt.

Was it really him?

It wouldn’t be that absurd, look at Steve, but they said he died. He looked like the one stuck in time, the one who still hadn’t grown up from that moment.

“I’m right where you left me.”

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[cyber3lf]

in another world

say it back sequel

˖⋆࿐໋₊ ✎ synopsis: it has been two years since your last encounter with oikawa. you thought he was gone for good, buried deep in the past, and will just live in your mind as a faint memory but unfortunately, you were far from being right with that statement.

pairing: oikawa x fem. reader

genre: angst angst angst

word count: 2.4k

warnings: cringe, sappy stuff LOL don’t come @ me

*unedited

.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑*̑˚̑*̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑*̑˚̑*̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇

you didn’t know how you got yourself into this mess. how you let kuroo drag you to his dumb party that he hosted. who throws a reunion party and invites their team’s rivals? besides the point, there were more people than you had expected. you scanned your eyes observing the room filled with people having a good time. the flashing lights were hurting your eyes a bit but you got used to it. although, it was hard to make out the people’s faces since of the horrible flickering colored lights.

“cmon, let me introduce you to some people,” kuroo grabbed you by the wrist so you wouldn’t lose your way in the crowd. you gave in at first and let him drag you around but as the bright tinted illumination beamed across the room your eyes widened when the source hit a nostalgic figure you thought would be long gone from your world, let alone be in the same room as you. you stopped in your tracks, eyes widened in horror and a rush of anxiousness ran down your body.

“what the hell is he doing here?” you couldn’t help but think to yourself. you have been content for two years and suddenly your ex appeared out of nowhere. ever since your last contact with oikawa, you had been miserable for a long time. nothing was able to bring you out of your misery. you despised him and felt bitterness in your nerves when someone would mention his name in a conversation. you hated him. but you couldn’t blame him for everything he has done. of course you had to take some credit. your foolishness and feelings has gotten the best of you. even after that date you thought maybe he would come up to you and apologize. yet you were so far from that concept. however, the universe eventually showed sympathy towards you and gave you signs that you were better off without him. in other words, you were just hit with a fat reality check that you and oikawa were never meant to be. conceivably in another world or in other cases just a figment of your imagination.

“and this is lev. you know lev right…” kuroo’s voice trailed off, noticing that you weren’t paying attention to what he was saying for the past 10 minutes. “y/n what the hell. did you listen to what i was just saying?”

“huh?” you snapped back, your attention turning back on kuroo who had a very irritated look on his face, crossing his arms and tapping his finger. “yes i was.” you retorted to your tall friend.

“ok who was the last person i just introduced you to?” kuroo bickered back.

“tori nakamoto?” kuroo kicked you in the leg, “ow! what was that for?”

“what is the matter with you? why are you so off tonight? loosen up.” kuroo complained. at times you would act like this, not listening to what your best friend was saying and wandering off to dreamland or play vigorous, humiliating thoughts from your past. like just now.

you rolled your eyes and apologized under your breath. you hoped that whatever you just saw was just your imagination. nevertheless, you still glanced over in the direction you last saw the figure. you were about to turn your head away and a let out a small gasp but you weren’t quick enough to turn your attention back to what kuroo was saying. and as cheesy as this sounds, your eyes locked with him for three lengthy seconds. “it was like the room was lit up again” is what you would have thought two years ago.

‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙　

oikawa was in much shock as you were. probably even more shocked. he couldn’t believe he would ever see you again. and quite frankly, he wanted to see you again. more than anything in this world. after your guys’ last encounter, he brushed off the feeling of these perplexed thoughts of not pulling you back in, holding you tightly and kiss you. anywhere. even if it wasn’t on your soft, full lips. but needless to say, there were more fishes in the sea. hundreds of them and he attracted a lot of them. and obviously, like the guy oikawa was, he took as many girls out as he could until he felt the satisfying warm energy they equally radiated as you did when he was with you. it was one after another and no one could meet the expectation he held. oikawa was a determined man however, and he was not about to give up. and no matter how many girls he came up to ask them out, oikawa couldn’t bring himself to even spare you a glance let alone talk to you. he wanted to explain himself. about how shitty of a boyfriend he was in the past couple weeks, why he treated you the way he did, and how he was wrong for taking his anger out all on you and pushed you away especially times when you needed him the most.

he didn’t realize it until the day of graduation day that he wanted nothing more in this world but to be with you, wake up by your side, hugging you and smell your rose-like scent, comb your hair with his hands, taking out all of the tangles and listen to everything you had to say whether it was you ranting about something ridiculous or about how great your day went. oikawa had to talk to you, even if he had to think twice about what he was getting himself into.

‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙　

“kuroo… uh,” you started, looking back to see if oikawa was staying where he was at and just to your dismay, the lean figure was walking in your direction. “kuroo, kuroo, kuroo,” you tapped your friend’s shoulder, eagerly trying to get his attention.

“what the hell do you want woman,” kuroo almost spat out his drink.

“where’s the bathroom?” you asked smiling at him innocently but also in a hurry. you have not been near oikawa since forever and you had planned on keeping it that way.

“around the corner on your left…” kuroo described suspiciously. “hurry though, i have more people i want you to meet.”

“in your dreams kuroo,” you rolled your eyes and sped through the crowds almost tripping three times on your way to the restroom. man was this party packed or what? on your way, you grabbed a slice of cake and locked yourself in the tight, small room. you waited for a solid 10 minutes until you couldn’t handle the claustrophobic atmosphere and opened the door quickly while checking both ways for any brunette with shaggy like hair before you could come out of your hiding.

“are you gonna plan on avoiding from me forever?” a familiar cocky voice piped up. oikawa.

“i had to use the restroom,” you muttered under your breath, not looking in his direction, and wanting to roll your eyes in disgust. you got up quickly and headed in the opposite direction from where he came from but you weren’t quick enough. he grabbed you by your wrist and dragged you towards the direction you were just about to head towards. you were stubborn and tried to loosen his grip but he was stronger.

“oikawa let go,” you pleaded, trying not to sound weak but more rather annoyed and irritated. he wanted nothing to do with you and now he’s trying to get you alone with him. after more fussing about letting you go, oikawa did. but he lead you guys up to a room and shut the door. “what the hell do you want?” your question sounded more like an order, although you rather much not want to hear about it and move on from here. but before you could say anything else, your former lover sat down on the bed and pulled you into a hug making you sit down next to him. your heart raced at an incredible speed.

“please,” oikawa started, “can we stay like this for a bit?” he buried his face in the crook of your neck. although you were very upset that a jerk like him who happened to date you in highschool, ghosted you out of nowhere, and now just started to talk to you out of nowhere, you decided to stay for his sake.

“i’m sorry,” oikawa apologized, “i missed you so much.” he looked up at you, now cupping your face with his hands examining all the details on your face with the moonlight shining in through the windows with meticulousness and held it with so much care like you were fragile.

“bullshit,” you snapped back at him, striking lightly at his hands to get him to stop touching you. if he was really sorry, he would’ve stopped you from leaving on the day at the amusement park. you know. if he was really sorry, he would’ve texted back that night. if he was really sorry, he would’ve called and asked for a reschedule for another date. if he was really sorry, he would’ve changed his poor attitude towards you as a boyfriend and acted like a real one. you wanted the oikawa you first fell in love with again. but nothing is perfect and will go as planned in life. and your relationship with him was one of them.

“i mean it, y/n” oikawa said, lifting his head up and meeting your eyes, his tone of voice getting more and more serious as he spoke, “ever since you left i couldn’t stop thinking about you. and i know this is so sappy and mushy for you to hear but i really, really mean it. and i know i haven’t been the best boyfriend you could’ve asked for yet i still want to be with you. i miss your touch and voice--”

“then why didn’t you say so sooner?” you asked quietly. this time, wanting to know the answer. you looked down at your feet while saying this to hold back tears. you were frustrated to say at the very least. who wouldn’t be?

“huh? i’m sorry i couldn’t catch what you were trying to say--”

“THEN WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY SO SOONER, OIKAWA?” along with shouting, tears streamed down at your face, making the mascara you were wearing, run a little around your eyes while you were wiping it. and as for oikawa, he was startled by your blaring attitude. you weren’t ever like this especially not towards him. but what could he have expected? and although you were physically the one who left him, he emotionally left you first which hurts just as much, if not more.

“you know what, if you ARE really sorry you wouldn’t have shut me out when i’m trying to talk to you. if you ARE really sorry, you would’ve texted me back that night after i left, if you ARE really sorry and want anything to do with me again you would’ve tried to hold our relationship together, if you ARE really sorry--” but you didn’t get the chance to finish as you were ranting on about how dense and ignorant he was in the past and how he still is because now, you felt a pair of soft, delicate lips crashed onto yours.

you wanted to resist. push back and slap him for doing what he did but you couldn’t bring yourself to it. instead, you closed your eyes and kissed him back and found yourself wanting more of this forbidden fruit you thought you would and should never get to taste again. you slowly brought your hands to his neck and hinted at him that he can continue. you don’t know if the act of you kissing him back was through lust or love. but it didn’t matter to you at that very moment. you just wanted him. your lips were moving in sync to his movements. abruptly, he grabbed you by your waist and pulled you closer until you were on his lap. every second, your breath was shared between one another as he bit your bottom lip every now and then, the both of your guys’ hands tangled up in one another’s touch. you ran your hands through his thick brown toned hair and a tear slipped down on your cheek. you missed his touch so much, yet after some time of repeated, heated actions, you couldn’t bear this anymore. you knew it was wrong. if anything, doing any more intimate stuff with him could lead you back to square one. you worked so hard trying to bring your mental health back up and you weren’t going to let him ruin it again. you had to cut him off and right now is the right time.

“oikawa,” you tried pulling away from his touch but his grip on your waist increased. “oikawa stop. really,” you said again, raising your tone of voice. the kiss deepened. “oikawa.” your harsh voice came out like a snap rather than a warning. this time, oikawa stopped and stared right into your glossy orbs giving you the sign that he has his full attention on you. you noticed that in the corner of his eyes there was a small tear merely planted on his lashes. he wanted to cry which made you more guilty saying what you had to say, “i can't do this,”

“y/n—”

“no. oikawa. move on. you know staying together is only going to hurt the both of us. so please just move on,” now it was you again with tears in your eyes.

“please just give me another chance. i want to do better for you. you’re the only who can truly make me happy please y/n.” during your two years of maturing mentally, you could tell the words that rolled off of his lips meant nothing but lies.

“i have to go. it’s getting late,” you got up and walked out of the door without looking back and somewhere deep down, you were hoping he would pull you back and stop you unlike two years ago. and sure enough he never stopped you this time either. but nothing would anyways. not even after he finally said “i love you” as you closed the door on your way out.

“maybe in another world we were meant to be. just not this one.”

a/n: PLS THIS IS SO CRINGEY IM SORRY FOR BEING ALL MUSHY XJXJ

edit: also privating this if it flops until i find the motivation to undergo MAJOR editingT_T

[katblu42]

Tie Me to the Moon

Installment 4 (of 5) in my Whump Wheel spinning experiment. This spin was for John and gave me Cuddling For Comfort and Cemetery.

It is another Young Tracys fic, but it requires some WARNINGS as it deals with grief/mourning, funerals and of course a cemetery. I'm also tagging for social anxiety, sensory overload and panic attack, although I'm not entirely sure exactly what I'm putting John through. If there's any additional warning or tag I need please let me know (or if these ones don't hit the mark).

Possibly more angst than whump.

The day started early. Scott had spoken with John and Virgil the night before about how much he was relying on them both to help get Alan and Gordon ready, since Grandma and Dad would both have a lot on their plate. So, John had set the alarm for 6am to give them time to wake themselves up before tackling the tinies.

By 9am all five boys were awake and fed and dressed in their Sunday best, shoes shined and hair combed awaiting final inspection before the cars arrived to take them to the church. Normally it would have been Dad who inspected the troops before such an important occasion but, like many other things over the last week or so, today the job was taken on by Scott. He left no stray hair or speck of lint unscrutinised, while their father was barely able to do more than glance at his boys and give Scott a pat on the shoulder as he passed on his way out the front door.

Scott decided it would be best if he went in the lead car with Dad. It was the one that had been fitted with the kiddie seats for Gordon and Alan, and Scott could sit between them and keep them settled. That left John and Virgil to ride in the second car with Grandma. The car trip was mostly silent, but Grandma told them they both looked very smart and did her best to smile despite clear indications she was holding back more tears.

As they neared the church it was impossible not to notice the large number of parked vehicles, some still offloading passengers. John let out a large sigh as their car pulled up in front of the chapel. The soft murmurings and general bustle of the gathering crowd penetrated their insulated little bubble even before the driver opened the door to let Grandma out. Virgil waited until he’d caught John’s eye and received a nod before opening his door so both boys could exit on the same side of the car.

The kindly young driver from the funeral home seemed to be keeping most of the well-meaning mourners at bay as the family gathered and were solemnly led into the church and ushered to the front pew. John tried to focus on the flowers, the quiet organ music, the soft glow of sunlight filtering through stained glass rather than the coffins or even the photos of Mom and Grandpa, and definitely not the endless stream of people filling the rows of seats behind them. It was a slightly tight fit getting all seven of them in the one pew, even with Alan on Dad’s (and later Scott’s) lap, but John was glad of the warm press of Virgil on his left and Gordon on his right.

The service was a simple, no-frills affair with the Minister officiating, but friends and family doing most of the talking. John listened through Dad and Grandma retelling stories he’d heard before, but there were little details revealed that he had never known. The anecdotes shared by the others who stepped up to the pulpit microphone – one of Grandpa’s farming neighbours, and an old friend of Mom’s from school – almost felt like stories about other people. It didn’t feel like they were talking about the people John had lost.

For John losing Grandpa was like a constellation of stars going missing from the night sky. It was Grandpa that had told him people are all made of the same stuff as the stars. He had been a quiet, watchful presence in his life, providing light and joy whenever he looked up and saw that twinkle in Grandpa’s eye. Like Ursa Major and Polaris, Grandpa was always there guiding him, giving direction when needed, but never wanting to overstep or overshadow his parents. Not the brightest light in his orbit, but an important, comforting presence that meant John always knew his place in the world.

Mom had been the sun at the centre of his life, his family, his everything. Without her all the light and warmth was gone from the world. Instead of a regular (though slightly wonky) orbit his world now felt like it was tumbling through space and gravity was constantly shifting. One moment he was too heavy to move and the next he was so light might be flung out into space. Night and day and seasons, years and everything he measured his life by had been connected to his Mom – waking him and tucking him into bed, making sure he dressed warm enough or wore sunscreen or had his raincoat, keeping track of birthdays and holidays and school excursion days were all her.

During the service no one spoke of Mom and Grandpa like that.

There was music. One of Mom’s favourite piano pieces. Virgil had wanted to be able to play it today, but hadn’t been able to bring himself to even sit at the piano, much less play at all since the accident. So a recording had been found and it was played as a backing track to the slideshow that flickered through image after image of happy memories telling part of two life stories.

There were prayers. Reassuring words from the minister about heaven and God’s love, and the love we should all share with each other. John wasn’t sure exactly how he felt about heaven, or God calling Mom and Grandpa home to his kingdom.

There was a poem read out by one of Mom’s work colleagues. It was something about not crying or being sad because they were gone, but being happy because they had lived. Many of the people in the room were obviously ignoring the advice – his immediate family included. There were a good many wet handkerchiefs and tissues in hands, a great deal of suppressed sobs and eye rubbing, and a few sleeves swiped across cheeks before the service was over.

Scott and Dad were among the pall bearers who carried the coffins out of the church and onto the waiting machinery that would take care of their final movements. John and his brothers and Grandma were the first of the mourners to follow in the sombre procession. Only a small number of people were permitted to follow the hovering gurneys across the grass and through the little cemetery to the waiting square-sided pits. Just family and a few close friends to witness the way the machinery slowly and smoothly lowered each coffin down into the earth, hear the minister recite the final ritual words, and each place a flower or a sprinkling of dirt atop the coffins in a last goodbye.

The rest of the large crowd had been encouraged to make their way into the Sunday School hall where the wake was to take place. Refreshments had been generously laid out on the tables inside. More photographs of both lost loved ones were on display throughout the room, along with so many more flowers and a large number of cards. But many of the people in attendance that day were still milling about outside the church buildings when John and his family returned through the cemetery for the wake.

John’s feet dragged as he approached the gentle hubbub of mingling friendly faces with sympathetic expressions. He could pick out people he knew well if he let himself concentrate, but the sheer number of individuals he was heading towards was a little overwhelming. They didn’t make it inside the hall before the onslaught began. Almost everyone wanted to say something, speak of sympathy, tell a story, offer “any help you need.” So many wanted to reach out, hold a hand or squeeze an arm, some came in for full-on hugs, cheek kisses and loud, teary exclamations of how sad it all was.

John lost his Dad and Grandma to the throng faster than he thought possible, but before he could be swept up in it himself he was thrown a lifeline. There was a familiar presence by his side, a brush of hand against hand, or specifically pinky against pinky – a request and an offer. John grabbed hold of Virgil’s hand and held fast, tethering himself to his brother like an anchor.

He wasn’t entirely sure how it had happened or how long it had taken, but eventually they all made it inside the Sunday School hall. John was only aware of Virgil’s hand in his, the rest was a blur of faces, voices, bodies. Virgil dealt with anyone who stopped them to offer their personal condolences, listening to what they had to say and responding politely but managing to keep the interactions brief and shielding John from most of the attention. Somehow they made their way to a cluster of chairs where Grandma and Dad were seated, Alan in his father’s lap, still accepting condolences from well-wisher after well-wisher.

John was aware of sweat beading on his forehead as Virgil told him to take a seat next to Grandma for a bit, and then his brother disappeared into the crowd to go and fetch Grandma a cup of tea. He wiped sweaty palms on his trousers as he tried to look around the room. His eyes fell on Scott standing a few feet away, taking all the sympathetic social interactions in his stride, nodding, smiling, shaking hands, accepting embraces.

John’s mouth was dry and he wondered if he could make it across the room to grab a drink from the trestle table against the wall, but there was a sea of bodies he’d have to negotiate in between. For a moment his vision blurred and the vague images of people swam in a dizzying fashion before he could find something to focus on. Alan had obviously grown tired of the hair ruffling and cheek pinching and wriggled free of his Dad’s grasp, and was now trying to run through the small gaps between grown up pairs of legs. Gordon was keeping an eye on him – in between snaffling more cakes and cookies from the food table. John watched the terrible two until they were obscured by too many featureless figures.

Despite the late-winter-cool of the day, the church hall felt uncomfortably warm. The large space with its vaulted ceiling, tall, wide windows and polished wooden floorboards felt dark and gloomy and so very crowded. And the non-stop undercurrent of murmuring voices appeared to build in an unbearable crescendo John could not shut out. Too many bodies, too many voices, too much, too close . . . he needed space, he needed air, he had to get out!

Virgil saw his brother get up and hurry a little unsteadily to the exit as he came back with Grandma’s tea. He tried to keep an eye on the red-head so he could follow, but he had to excuse himself to Grandma and Dad, make his way over to Scott, politely interrupt the conversation and whisper in his big brother’s ear.

“John’s bolted. I’m going after him.”

Scott acknowledged with a nod as his eyes darted to the door, already closed again after John’s escape. Virgil wasted no more time in following, but once outside it took him a moment to figure out which direction John had taken.

John had no particular destination in mind, he just needed to get away. His feet carried him across the gravel driveway and through the grass without him registering the change of surface. He ran through the little cemetery without seeing the tombstones he passed, slowing only when he approached the boundary marked with a low stone wall before a neat, tall hedge. Unable to go any farther he turned and wobbled dizzily. His vision narrowed leaving dull blurred impressions of light and shadow. He heard nothing but the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears, and he sank down to the ground, sitting heavily, knees bent and pulled up towards his chest. He scrunched his eyes tightly closed and slammed his hands over his ears, trying to block it all out.

Virgil approached slowly, but without trying to hide the sound of his footsteps. He lowered himself to sit facing John, resisting the strong urge to reach out and touch him. Seeing his brother in such distress clawed at his heart. He couldn’t let him struggle through this alone.

“John?” He kept his voice quiet and hoped he could be heard despite the hands staying firmly pressed against ears. “I’m here with you. Just me. No one else is around.”

There was no noticeable response.

“If you can hear me, I need you to try and slow your breathing down a bit, John. Deep breath in,“ and Virgil inhaled, “and out nice and slow.” Virgil waited for a second, watching John’s shallow, ragged breathing for any change. “In,” another inhaled breath, “and out.”

As Virgil continued repeating the instruction like a mantra John’s breathing gradually began to even out into slower, deeper, more controlled breaths. He wasn’t sure, but he thought John’s vice-like grip over his ears might be relaxing a little too.

“You’re doing great, John. Keep focusing on your breathing. Keep listening. Hear the breeze whispering through the leaves? Did you hear those birds?”

John did hear the cry of a bird overhead, and an answering call a little farther away as his hands drifted away from his head. As he lowered them to limply rest on the ground beside him he heard a gentle gust of wind rustle the hedges, and he registered that it did indeed sound a bit like a whisper.

“The sun’s broken free of the clouds. Can you feel it on your face, John? Can you feel the wind in your hair? You do realise there’s dirt and leaves beneath your fingertips, right?”

John turned his focus where his brother’s voice directed it, feeling the warmth on the left side of his face, and the breeze toying with his hair. There was indeed leaf litter and slightly damp dirt beneath his flexing fingers.

“If you’re ready to open your eyes you’ll see the moon’s out. I like the way the moon looks in the day. Against the blue of the sky the shadows make it look almost see-through.”

Translucent. That would have been a better word for what Virgil was trying to say. The thought flitted through John’s mind as he let his eyes drift open and scan the sky until they latched onto the gibbous moon framed by scattered cumulous clouds. He was also aware there was irony in the way his brother was effectively using the moon to anchor him, to bring him back to earth and ground him in the here and now.

Virgil had stopped talking, leaving the wind and occasional twitters and cries of the birds to fill the silence as John watched the clouds dance around the moon. He could feel his brother’s eyes on him almost as tangibly as he could feel the damp earth he was sitting on and the cool stone of the wall at his back. Now feeling much calmer he took a deep breath and brought his gaze down from the sky to meet the concern and compassion contained in those warm, brown eyes.

“Welcome back.” A hint of a smile played across Virgil’s face as he spoke.

A quiet moment stretched between them. No words spoken, but information passing from brother to brother through eye contact alone.

Content that John was no longer caught in a spiral he couldn’t escape on his own, Virgil glanced over his shoulder towards the Sunday School hall.

“I should go back, but you can stay here if you want. I’ll come and find you when it’s time to go. Just don’t wander off or anything.”

John didn’t speak as he chanced his own glance back toward the ongoing wake. Then, as Virgil made a move to get up and leave, John reached out and grabbed his wrist.

“Stay. Please?”

Virgil stopped and stared first at the fingers digging into his wrist, then into pleading, desperate aquamarine. He simply nodded and adjusted his position so he was sitting next to John, their shoulders touching. John loosened his grip on Virgil’s wrist but didn’t let go, so John’s arm looped around his knees and Virgil’s arm crossed his body to keep the connection. There was an almost imperceptible hesitation, but then simultaneously John leaned in towards his brother and Virgil wrapped his arm around John, pulling them into a secure embrace.

John finally let go of Virgil’s wrist, bringing his arm in close, grabbing a fistful of Virgil’s suit jacket and snuggling closer into his brother’s chest. This enabled Virgil to employ both arms in the hug. John rarely cuddled up like this with anyone, but all the times he could remember doing so were with Mom. His next intake of breath hitched at the realisation, and Virgil held a little tighter. The threat of tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, and he was grateful that, while not the same as a cuddle from Mom, he was still able to find this level of safety and comfort in the arms of someone who loved him.

“I want her back,” he sobbed, letting the tears flow and drip onto Virgil’s jacket.

“Yeah. Me too.”

John heard the tears in Virgil’s voice, but he already knew his brother felt the same absence in their hug.

Neither boy could say how long they stayed out there, huddled together, holding tight while hot tears streaked their cheeks. Time may as well have stood still for all it mattered. Nothing else was important, just the feeling that this moment, however sad, was there’s alone to share until Scott came and found them to tell them it was time to go home.

[tracybirds]

tidying is good for the soul

I just really really didn’t want to tidy my own room.... I forced Gordon to do it in my stead :)

Some angsty Pen&Ink decided to show their faces in the middle for ReasonsTM and I ran with it. I wish I could say the mess I’m avoiding is worse than Gordon’s... it is not.

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

The smell hit Scott first as he walked past, musty air filled with sweat, rotting food and something else he didn’t want to identify. The stale oxygen forced its way into his lungs as he peered into the room.

Breathing through his mouth only ensured he could taste the rich, ripe aroma. He bit back his instinctive reaction to gag, instead shoving his hand over his nose and mouth. He could see an egg on the plate sitting innocently on the chest of drawers, clearly abandoned in a rush to get to a rescue, still in its shell. Still in its shell, after what must have been days, the green-grey fuzz of mold cradling it gently where it lay.

“Gordon, you can’t live like this, you have to clean this up.”

“Huh?”

Scott gestured at the room at large.

“This! This garbage heap you call a room! How can you just lie there and… and… relax? When it’s like this?”

Gordon shrugged.

“Good defence mechanism.”

“You’ll get yourself sick like this, you know that.”

“It’ll strengthen my immune system.”

Scott coughed back the stench.

“Is that…?”

No. He didn’t want to know.

“I’ll be fine,” said Gordon, staring deliberately up at the projection on the ceiling. He was watching Buddy and Ellie again, nestled between two piles of laundry and exercise gear abandoned at his feet.

Scott knew what he had to do. He knew what he should do. He just couldn’t be sure if there were any landmines ahead of him if he strode into the room.

Necessity called.

He jabbed a finger at his comm and cut the power.

“HEY!!”

“Clean it up, Gordon. You’ll get your damn show back when it’s liveable again.”

“I was busy!”

“You were watching videos! And I know you’ve seen that episode before, at least four times.”

“At least give me my lights! Please?”

Scott shook his head, his mouth twisting in disgust.

“You can start by opening the curtains, and the windows too. Get some fresh air in here.”

Gordon grabbed at the water bottle, hidden in the clothes by his head, and threw it with the aim of an athlete at the door slamming shut. It hit with a loud thud and clattered as it hit the floor.

Water began to seep under the gap and Scott rolled his eyes at the sight. Let Gordon have his tantrum if he wanted. The space was becoming a hazard to them all, and his disorganised brother needed a push. He remembered the last ‘argument’ that had stemmed from someone else daring to do it for him. Scott still had the scar.

***

Gordon glared at the offending door in the dark. The glow of his comm on his wrist provided the only light in the gloom, being the only object not reliant on the power that Scott had taken away from him.

Guilt stabbed at him as he looked around. Now that Scott had brought it to his attention, he couldn’t deny the truth in his accusations. Most of the precarious piles in the space was trash he’d been holding on to, or items that needed a home that he couldn’t find the energy to designate. There were meals and dishes long forgotten as he traipsed in from a rescue in the small hours, stumbling forward with eyes only for his bed. By the time he’d woken up, they’d just become another faded feature of the past. And speaking of his bed, he’d been sharing that space with an assortment of clothing, tablets and oceanographic equipment for longer than he cared to remember.

Thank goodness Penny hadn’t dropped by for a visit. Not that she wanted to see him at the moment, a voice in the back of his mind reminded him slyly.

Gordon scowled, pushing the memory of their last meeting away with a practiced ease. He wasn’t dwelling.

He scrambled to his feet and picked his way across the background noise of the past two months. He yanked open the curtains and looked around, eyes blinking as he took in the sight of dishes piled eight deep glinting in the afternoon sunlight.

He could see Alan, waving up at him from the deck below, and felt the tug to join him, to dive into whatever his brother was doing, anything to not feel alone and stranded on this antipodean island.

Instead, he shoved open the balcony doors and scooped up the wrappers that spilled out of their caged position on the edge of his dresser.

It was a room of categories.

Trash and not-trash.

Things with a home, and things without a home.

Stuff that was mere clutter, and stuff he was still most definitely using, never mind that weeks had passed since they’d last found their way into his hands, thanks Scott.

He doubted Scott had ever found himself with a stray hair dropped on his bathroom floor, let alone sworn violently at a smear of toothpaste that somehow stretched from the mirror to the floor, smeared by a sleepy hand in a futile attempt to clean it off before Gordon collapsed.

Gordon was scrubbing at it now.

The food was an easy fix at least, and he’d quickly employed MAX for depositing the dishes in a soak, wash, rinse, purify with fire cycle.

The room was becoming semi presentable again, enough that Gordon could actually walk between the piles instead of taking strategic leaps from clearing to clearing. That one for laundry, that one for clean clothes, that one for clothes that might have once been clean but had been trapped under so much stuff he thought they might appreciate another rinse if only for a shot at seeing the local scenery.

He tugged at the comforter, trying to extract it from under the “still-being-finished” projects he’d placed lovingly out of the way on his bed. It might be nice to sleep under something that smelt fresher than his socks.

A final jerk, accompanied by a necessary grunt, pulled the bedspread clear, turning Gordon’s sound of frustrated power into a hard-earned yell.

He fell, yelping as his shoulder struck the edge of his drawers and sent a precarious collection of borrowed items cascading to the ground. With him underneath.

A sharp knock on the door drew his attention.

“Gordon? You alright in there?”

Gordon scowled at the door, imagining the way he might throttle Virgil if he came in now, with his barely disguised approval and his wide-eyed sympathy that Gordon couldn’t keep his space straight like the rest of them. Especially now that the once clear floor was covered in junk all over again.

He hit his head against the floor with a thunk.

“Fine. Get lost.”

He didn’t need X-ray vision to see the huff and rolling eyes Virgil gave in response.

“Have it your way. Scott’s got dinner sorted in an hour or so if you want it.”

Gordon was very certain he would not.

He didn’t move even after he had heard Virgil’s footsteps fade away. The afternoon light had turned golden warm as the sun began to set. He could ask Scott for the lights back, he knew Scott had only turned them off to grab his attention, but the dimming room suited his dark mood just fine.

He wished he could call Penny, twelve hours behind him and a world away, just to complain and joke about ways to pay Scott back tenfold for the trouble he’d caused him.

He wondered if she still bothered to wake up early when there was no one scheduled to call anymore. His 0400 alarm had hardly wavered, his body attuned to the rhythm and his heart wishing beyond reason to hear word of the daily minutia of life in high society London.

He couldn’t call her just to talk about junk.

He couldn’t call her to talk about anything.

Gordon scrubbed at his face, drawing his legs in as he made to stand once more. He reached out, fingers splayed on the floor, as he hauled himself upright. His eyes fell on the shimmering pink material at the base of the tower that now lay scattered across the room.

A scarf, but not just any scarf, as she’d haughtily told him. A gift from a Duchess, another high end and frivolous purchase, on loan from a very, very good friend of her father – Gordon could hardly remember the details, laughing at her affronted look while he downplayed its importance.

“Just a piece of fabric, Penny, no better, no worse than my pants.”

“Than your trousers, I should say.”

Gordon laughed again.

“Nah, Pen, definitely my pants.”

Maybe it had meant something to her, but she’d let him take it home, covered in her perfume and her love and her firm belief that he deserved something special of hers.

A tangible image of her heart and he’d taken it in with irreverence and mockery, and hidden it away beneath clutter and trash and the needs of everyone and anyone that wasn’t her. Lost it among a pile of junk now strewn on the floor, none of which even mattered, not even to him. He’d thrown half his life away, only to find her still draped all over him.

Draped, no thrown carelessly on his chest of drawers, with none of the delicacy and care that her vulnerability and trust deserved, none of the precious love he had sworn up and down was hers.

His vision blurred as he ran his rough hands through the soft folds and he tapped the comm before he could think twice about the consequences.

He couldn’t look at the holo as it answered, its blue light spilling out into the room, cold and lifeless. It might have been Parker for all he knew as he sobbed into the scarf.

“Gordon?”

Her voice was a balm against the wound rending him in two.

“Pen, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Her silence chased his mumbled apologies and regret into the darkened room.

“Thank you, Gordon.”