#i had to messily put in my signature with i movie while at school so i could post this lmao

[sa2-astral]

Casually walks in.

Shhh

Drops a wip

Runs

[supernovafics]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇

pairing: dylan o’brien x best friend fem!reader

summary: in which dylan has been your best friend for as long as you could remember. your busy lives and schedules may have pushed both of your lives in vastly different directions as you’d gotten older, but somehow you two would always be led back to your hometown, and each other, during the holidays. however, one moment causes all of that to change. 

warnings: angst (what else is new), some fluffiness, mentions of past trauma (the maze runner incident), existential crises, explicit language

word count: 3.6k words

author’s note: idk why i decided to write something christmas related in the summer but it happened lmao (also i feel like it’s slightly important to mention that this takes place in 2016)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The rocks being thrown at your window were not what woke you up. Instead, you had been lying awake for hours; getting little to no sleep was something that you had become used to at this point.

However, on this specific night— or morning, depending on how one looked at it— you were glad that your sleep had been restless once again because it made it easy for you to get out of bed and walk to your window when the rocks began hitting it.

There was really no need for you to push open the curtains and check who was doing the throwing because, of course, it was Dylan. Ever since he moved onto your street in Hermosa Beach in middle school and the two of you easily became friends, he was the only person that would ever wake you up in the middle of the night with the soft pings of rocks, especially on this specific day at this specific time.

You waved at him and gestured that you would be down in a moment. You slipped on a random pair of sweatpants along with a hoodie and then placed the Christmas gift that you bought for him in the pocket. The item was small enough to fit in the not too big pocket of your hoodie; however, it did awkwardly protrude a bit.

All of this was a sort of unspoken tradition that the pair of you had developed over the many years you’d known each other. Meeting at five in the morning on Christmas day, walking to the beach that was only a few blocks away from your respective childhood homes, and exchanging Christmas gifts with each other as you both watched the sunrise. It started when you were in ninth grade, and you hadn't missed a year since, not even when the ending of high school pushed your lives in vastly different directions, especially since Dylan graduated a year before you and was almost immediately thrust into his acting career.

But, it didn't matter that Dylan's career took off, and you eventually decided to go to college in Santa Barbara, because, no matter what, you both would always come back for the holidays.

When you opened your front door and saw Dylan lingering by the sidewalk no more than ten feet away, you were quick to go toward him and pull him in for a tight embrace. It actually hadn't been too long since you’d last seen him, maybe only five or six months, but for some reason, it still felt as if the last time he was in front of you was last December.

"Hey," Dylan breathed out in a short greeting, his arms wounding around your waist.

“Hey to you too," You responded, a small smile gracing your features when you both pulled away, and you looked up at him. "How have you been?"

It was quiet for a few moments as you waited for him to answer the question, but eventually, you were met with no verbal response, and instead, Dylan simply shrugged. The short action made your heart constrict in the most painful way, and it was then that you noticed the light remnants of a scar peeking out from behind his dark hair that covered the majority of his forehead. You were quick to peel your eyes away from the scar and instead cast them down at your Converse-covered feet, but that didn't stop the memories from quickly coming back.

The Maze Runner accident had happened back in March, but to you, and you knew to Dylan as well, it felt as if it was just yesterday, especially considering the fact that he was still dealing with the unavoidable repercussions from it.

"Wanna walk?" You asked, finally looking up at him once again.

Dylan nodded. "Yeah."

A silence that could only be deemed as comfortable lingered between them as the two of you took the five-minute walk to the beach and sat down side by side on one of the random empty benches.

"Merry Christmas, Y/N," Dylan said as he handed a present over to you. The present was messily wrapped, something that was not at all uncommon when receiving gifts from Dylan, and the sight of it made you smile.

Before you unwrapped the gift, you pulled out the one you had for him and handed it over. "Merry Christmas, Dyl."

The nostalgic sound of wrapping paper ripping could be heard as you tore into your gift. A simultaneous shocked and happy yelp emitted from your lips when you held up a Harry Potter t-shirt. But, it wasn't just any Harry Potter t-shirt; it was one with a version of the Goblet of Fire movie poster on it, which was your all-time favorite movie in the series.

"Holy shit."

"It's the original merch that was sold when the movie came out," Dylan told you. He hadn't opened his gift yet, and instead, he was playing with the green bow placed on top of it; he always liked to see your reaction first.

You looked at Dylan and then back down at the shirt as you processed his words. "Wow, double holy shit. I would put it on if it wasn't freezing right now."

Dylan laughed a bit. "Very understandable."

“Why haven't you opened yours yet? I'm dying to see what you think of it," You said. You were now holding the t-shirt to your chest, genuinely feeling like a little kid on Christmas morning again.

Dylan finally began unwrapping your gift to him, and when all of the paper was peeled off, there was a square box. "Aw, a plain white box. Thank you so much. This is what I've always wanted."

You rolled your eyes and playfully bumped him with your shoulder. "Ha ha. Please save all of these bad jokes for your stand-up act; I can't wait to boo you off the stage along with everyone else."

"So, what I'm hearing is you don't think that becoming a comedian is going to be the next best career move for me?" Dylan asked. He attempted to make the question sound as serious as possible, but there was a joking undertone to his words.

You bit back your laughter. "Please just open the box already so I don't have to hurt your feelings by truthfully answering that question."

"Okay, we'll circle back to that topic later," Dylan smiled and then finally opened the white box to reveal a slightly faded baseball. When he picked it up, he ran his thumb over the black signature written on it. "Now it's my turn to say holy shit."

You could feel yourself smiling at his awestruck reaction, and you wondered if that was what you looked like when you saw the Harry Potter shirt. The baseball was signed by one of the players of the New York Mets that had been Dylan's favorite player when he was younger, and he'd even caught a ball hit by him when he went to a game before he moved to California.

"I've had this idea for years, but I could never find a baseball signed by him," You began explaining, the excitement clear in your voice. "But, last month, someone named Paul Todd posted this on eBay and I immediately bought it. God bless that old man. It's completely authentic and everything."

Dylan was quiet for a few moments as he simply looked at the baseball in his hands, a small joyful smile on his face, and it made you happy to see him so genuinely elated with the present.

"This just made my gift look like shit," He finally said, a light laugh falling from his lips.

"I have always been the superior gift giver. I think that's my hidden talent," You responded with a playful smirk.

Dylan placed the baseball back in its box and then looked at you. "Next year you will receive the best gift ever from me. It will completely top everything that you have ever given me."

"You're saying that as if I should feel upset about receiving a trip to Italy as a Christmas gift."

"A trip to Italy?"

"In my strong opinion, that would be the best gift ever," You said with a smile and then looked down at the t-shirt, which was now in your lap. "But, anyway, I don't think this gift is shit. I'm in love with this shirt already."

Dylan let out a joking, overexaggerated sigh in relief. "Phew, okay, since you think this gift is great, that means I don't have to do the trip to Italy next year."

"What? Did I say I like this t-shirt? I hate it! Harry Potter actually su— Fuck, I can't say this with a straight face," You laughed, and Dylan was quick to join in with you.

The joking statements leading up to the laughter hadn't even been the funniest things ever, but it didn't matter because this was probably the hardest you had laughed in a while, and you were both glad and unsurprised that it was with one of your favorite people in the entire world.

You missed joking around and laughing with him. You missed simply being with him.

Eventually, the laughter died off, but there was still a smile planted firmly on your face. You looked ahead at the darkness in front of you and the ocean that looked completely black; it was still kind of early, so the sun hadn't begun to rise just yet. Your back pressed against the wooden bench, and you let out a small sigh, your head finding Dylan's shoulder as you leaned against him.

"How have you been?" You asked him, your words coming out both soft and slightly quiet, and before the mood became too serious with your question that was nothing but serious, you attempted to lighten it. "And please no shrugs as a response this time. I don't wanna get a headache due to my head bouncing off your shoulder."

Dylan let out a breath of a laugh at your final statements but refrained from answering the question for a few moments.  

After what felt like forever, he sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "I honestly don't know. My mind has felt so fucked lately, thinking about everything. I swear I've been feeling every feeling known to man these past months."

"What are you feeling right now? In this moment?"

"I'm really happy with you. This is probably the only normal and familiar thing I've experienced in a while. But, of course, there's still that confused feeling in the back of my mind revolving around everything else." He paused for a brief moment before continuing, his next words came out quieter. "I don't even know if I want to go back to acting."

You lifted your head off his shoulder and looked at him as you pulled his hand into yours and gave it a light, reassuring squeeze.

"No matter what you decide. I'll be right there to support you," You told him and then added a "bro" at the end of her sentence along with a small smile. Whenever things became too deep in a conversation you two were having, one of you would always throw a "bro" or "dude" in there to bring some playfulness to the mood.

The corners of Dylan's perked up a bit. "So, you'll support me when I decide to become a comedian?"

You were unable to stifle your light laughter. "Yes, fine, fuck it. I'll be the loudest one laughing at all of your shows."

Dylan squeezed your hand back because he knew exactly how reluctantly true your words were. "Don't worry, I promise not to put you through that."

"Thank you."

"So, how have you been?"

"No."

"Oh, come on," Dylan said as he playfully poked your side. "I'm not gonna be the only one exposing my feelings."

You sighed and then hesitantly nodded. "Okay, okay."

The truth was you had been far from good lately. Your life was moving, but for some reason, you felt like you weren’t moving with it.

You felt stuck.

Stuck in a confusing mindset where you had absolutely no idea what you wanted to do with your life. You thought that identity crises usually happened in high school, but apparently, yours had come five years late. But, you knew that this delayed identity crisis had been your own doing because you had convinced herself that you would figure everything out once you were in college; and you were both lucky and smart enough to receive a full ride to UCSB.

And although you were finishing up your Master's degree in Creative Writing and had a TA job at the university with the department, which was the reason behind why you could even pay for the Master's program, something in your "should be great" life simply did not feel right.

However, you felt absolutely terrified to say any of that out loud because admitting it would only finally make that statement a wholehearted truth, instead of just a spiraling thought in your mind. And even though Dylan was your best friend and you knew you could tell him anything and not receive any sort of judgment, it still felt hard to let the words leave your lips.

You thought about the way to perfectly word everything, but nothing felt right. You pulled your hand away from Dylan's and covered your face as you let out an exasperated breath. "I can't figure how to say it all."

Dylan placed an arm around you and then mimicked the same question you had asked him not too long ago. "What are you feeling right now? In this moment?"

You would have both laughed and smiled at the fact that he was using your exact words if the current circumstances were different.

"Scared," You finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what the fuck I wanna do anymore, and actually, I don't think I really ever did. I only went to college because of the scholarship, and I convinced myself that I would figure my life out when I got there. And for a while, things felt right because I found creative writing and genuinely enjoyed it, but something doesn't feel right anymore. And I actually do like school. Because it's stable, and I am doing things, even if it's taking a dumbass test. But, it's about to be over soon, and I have no idea what I'm gonna do."

Your words were coming out like vomit, and nothing could stop it because finally, everything you had been feeling for so long was out of your head and put into the open.

"And don't get me wrong, I do love to write, but I don't know, I just can't see myself doing it for the rest of my life," You admitted and then let your next words come out quietly. "Honestly, I can't see myself doing anything. I'm so unhappy here."

You did not say it aloud, but you didn't think you were ever fully content there. Aside from Dylan and your parents, you never truly liked California. You had grown up there all your life, and although there were millions of people that adored the state, you felt the exact way someone from a state like Wyoming probably felt.

Dylan did not verbally respond to your long confession at first; instead, he simply pulled your confused and stressed self in for a hug, and you let out the simultaneous sigh and breath that you had been metaphorically holding in for years at this point.

"Maybe you should take a break," Dylan finally said; his arms were still around you, an action that made you feel completely comforted. "Right after high school, you went straight to college, and I don't think you've ever really taken a break to really think about what you actually want. Like, maybe, it's becoming a zookeeper."

Your laugh was slightly muffled by the fact that your face was pressed into the warmth of Dylan's chest. "Zookeeper?"

"I don't know," He laughed too. "You said you would support me in whatever the fuck I decide to do, and I'll do the exact same for you."

Somehow a smile found its way on your face. "A zookeeper and a comedian. What a fucking dream team."

Another laugh fell from Dylan's lips. "The best fucking dream team."

"But, honestly, I wish I could've known sooner that this is how you've been feeling. I would've been telling you to slow down so long ago, but you seemed content with everything," Dylan told you and gave you another light squeeze. "Please take a break and don't stress yourself out over the future when your next semester is over. Just relax for the first time. You can even come stay with me in LA for a little bit if that's where you wanna take your break. I'll be here for you, Y/N. Always."

Something about his words hit you hard. The wholehearted honesty and sincerity behind his statement shouldn't have surprised you, but it did. And the worry he had for you resembled the same concern you had for him when the accident happened. You two were best friends, so it should not have been a shock that you would worry about each other, but still, in that moment and for you, it was shocking because it felt like so much more than just that.

"Me too," You whispered, finally responding to his previous statement.

The long embrace came to an end with you being the one to pull away; however, you did not pull away far enough for you both to become completely detached from one another. Dylan's arms were still around your waist, and yours were still around the nape of his neck, and your faces were dangerously close. Your hand somehow took on a mind of its own as it reached around and cupped Dylan's cheek. The miniscule confusion and tickle of panic that began to prick at the back of your mind because of the action were not enough to make you pull away.

The slight way that Dylan leaned into your soft touch was the catalyst for you to take the leap and lean in the tiniest bit to close the small distance between the two of you, your lips almost too easily finding his. The inward sigh of contentment you emitted when Dylan almost immediately kissed you back made you realize that kissing him was the one thing currently happening in your life that actually felt right.

Later, when thinking back to that specific moment, you would wonder if that "rightness" had always been there between you both.

However, that right feeling, which was both comfortable and familiar, was quickly replaced with dread and angst, at least on your part. Your mind was beginning to fully catch up with your actions, and it immediately told you that the current action was both bad and stupid, and there were many, many reasons that proved that.

Maybe there were moments where a younger, and even present-day, you did want more to happen between you and Dylan, but you would always push that thought away because you knew that your and Dylan's friendship was so much more valuable.

And then it was the fact that your lives were nothing alike. Even though you were immensely confused about where your life was going, you could say for certain that it wasn't going in the same direction as Dylan's; an acting career that he genuinely loved and enjoyed too much to truly give up. Something deep down told you that, and you could feel the truthfulness behind the thought. The holidays were the only time your lives would truly intersect.

You abruptly pulled away, not just from the kiss but from Dylan's body entirely, moving to the edge of the bench you were on. Your hands covered your face in nothing but pure embarrassment and regret, and you wished that you could take back the last minute and a half of your life. And you also absolutely hated that you couldn't help but notice how much colder your body felt now that it was away from Dylan's.

"Oh my God. I'm sorry. Fuck. That kiss— it was a mistake. I'm really sorry." Your words came out rushed and fumbled, and it probably did not make much sense, but you just hoped that there was at least a little bit of coherency with them.

As much as you wanted to look at Dylan, you refused to do so because you knew that you would only see the regret you were feeling written clear across his face.

"Hey, it's okay, Y/N. Everything's fine. Don't worry," You heard him say but could hear the uncertainty in his voice as if he really didn't know if everything truly was fine. And you knew that it wasn’t. It really wasn’t.

The holidays were the only time your lives would truly intersect, and you had just completely ruined that.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know your thoughts <3

((((already potentially thinking about doing a part 2 to this….. but idk…))))

[katiea03]

hellu! a friend led me to your account and i wanted to req smth right away! i'm a girl who loves hurt comfort so can you do smth with tsukki and kenma where reader doesn't like sitting on their lap or getting carried because she doesn't want to squish them?? thanks bby ❤

❣︎Reader Scared To Sit On Their Lap❣︎

Thx you sm for the request! This one hit home as this is lowkey a insecurity I have but I had a lot of fun writing it! 👁👅👁

❣︎Warnings❣︎: Weight,suggestive

❣︎Genre❣︎: Hurt/comfort, lil fluff

❣︎Featuring❣︎: Tsukishima, Kenma, Oikawa

❣︎A/N❣︎: This is my first official request and I’m really excited how it came out! I/ve never written a scenero or hurt/comfort before but i really liked it! I threw Oikawa in with the other two because of how perceptive he really is. I feel like people forget how smart Oikawa is so he gets a lil love. Am I really starting to become an Oikawa simp maybeeee ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Probably for the first time ever, Tsukishima Kei was clingy. You were hanging out at his place after school as you usually did but today you couldn’t help but notice how tightly Tsuki held onto your hand, or how he would use your head as a resting place for his more often. You obviously weren’t opposed, just surprised by his sudden change in character.

You looked through the kitchen for snacks when Tsukishima hugs you from behind. You jump a little and turn in his arms to see him with his signature smirk that made your knees weak “What’s gotten into you today?”

He looked at you amused “What do you mean?”

He rests his hands on your hips , “You’ve been very touchy that’s all.”

“You don’t like it?” He looks as if he’s about to pull away. You pull him in quickly before he has a chance to pull away. Resting your head on his chest,

“I never said that. I think it's really nice.” You take in the fresh scent of his hoodie.

“Oh yea?” There’s a faint smugness to his words that you recognized instantly

“Yea.” And before you knew it, you felt yourself being lifted up. Panic rushed through you and you tried your best to squirm out of his grasp,

“Put me down! Please just put me down.” Tsukishima could sense the gravity in your voice and put you on the kitchen counter.

“What’s wrong Y/n.” He could see the uneasy look on your face and wondered what he did wrong. You stood silent, not making eye contact with him.

“Babe what is it… did I hurt you?” You remained quiet. Tsuki didn’t want to push you to say anything you didn’t want to, but he was concerned.

“If you don’t want to say anything that okay bu-“

“I’m worried I’ll break you…” Your voice came out shallow. Tsuki almost laughed, not because what you said was funny, but because of how ridiculous the notion was, “What do you mean?”

Still not being able to look at him, you croak out, “I’m scared I’m too heavy for you.” At this point you’re trying to hold back tears. You’re weight has always been such a huge insecurity for you, and truly having to admit it was almost embarrassing.

Tsuki cups your cheek, forcing you to look at him. He had no idea you felt this way, and he wasn’t too sure what to say so the kitchen was almost awkwardly silent. You were about to pull your face away when he tells you,

“Do you know how ridiculous you sound right now?” You snap your head to look directly at him. That wasn’t the type of response you were expecting.

“I love you, and no matter what size you are that won’t change. But no, you won’t break me, I’m almost 6’4.”

You choke out a laugh and wipe the tears that brimmed at your eyes,

“Yea but Kei, you’re built like praying mantises!” Tsuki poked you before throwing you over his shoulder and carried you to the living room. You shrieked kicking your legs as genuine laughter escaped your lip.

This would be the first night you would be spending the night at Kenma’s place. He’s spent countless nights at yours but you finally asked to spend the night at his.

Stepping out of the shower, hair wet, and wearing one of his hoodies, you go to look for him. Along the way you inspected his apartment more. There was nothing too special about it, it wasn’t the neatest by any means but you could tell he tidied up a bit before you came. You passed by his living room and saw only a couple photos. He didn’t look too enthusiastic in them but a small smile laced your face seeing him with his friends and family.

You quietly make your way down the hall to his gaming room, and with a soft knock, you creak open the door. Kenma was intensely staring at his computer screen with his huge gaming headset on with his hair messily pulled back. He couldn’t hear you come in but he sensed your presence and turned his head to you.

He softly smiled at you and slid off one side of his headset to hear you properly.

You walked behind his chair and peered at the screen , “So what are you playing right now?” Kenma focuses back on the game and mumbles, “ Rainbow…”

A minute or two goes by of you just wanting his hands rush across the keyboard. His face stayed as neutral as ever, the only indication of stress was the tiny crease that bunched in between his eyebrows. He wins another game and takes off his headset while waiting for the next round to start. He pulled your hand around to sit you into his lap but you backed up and settled on sitting on the arm of his chair. He could see how uncomfortable you were and peered up at you.

“What’s wrong?” You sat a little straighter, “Nothings wrong Kozu.”

He looks up at you unconvinced, “Y/n”

You crossed your arms and try putting on your best face. Unfortunately for you, Kenma knew them all.

“Tell me, what is it?” He took one of your hands in his, softly rubbing his thumb over your palms. You searched his face for any way out of this inevitable conversation you landed in, but to no avail. You sighed and stared intently at the screen in front of you.

“What if I’m too heavy?” What you asked didn’t process in his head for a moment. But when it did, he instantly pulled you into his lap without warning. You go to stand up but he wraps his arms around you, holding you down. You hide your face in his polyester t-shirt feeling extremely self-conscious. You slowly feel yourself calm down and you get yourself more comfy on his lap.

“See you aren’t too heavy.” Kenma is a man of very few words, but as he ran his fingers through your wet hair, you couldn’t have felt more safe and loved.

The next match started and as he slid on his headset (only one ear had it on), you stayed there watching him play. You felt yourself doze off in probably the most comfortable position you had ever been in.

Oikawa was going on about another ridiculous alien conspiracy documentary and was begging to watch it for tonight’s Friday movie marathon. He already had his ‘stylish’ purple alien socks along with his even more ‘trendy’ neon green space martian shirt (according to him of course!). He was already comfy on the worn down couch he owned with tons of blankets.

You come out from the kitchen wearing a big t-shirt of his with the popcorn and set it on the coffee table.

“Oh my beautiful Y/n, what would I do without you?” He sits up on the couch with his head in his hands.

“Probably starve and die.” Oikawa opens the blanket waiting for you to cuddle on the couch with him,

“Rude, but you’re probably right.” He pats at his lap and you come closer to the couch, nervously taking a seat next to him rather than sitting on his lap. You turn on the couch looking for the remote when Oikawa outbursts,

“Ummm excuse me?” He has a hand on his heart with an exasperated look on his face.

You turn to him pretending to be clueless but as you play with your fingers, Oikawa knew something was wrong.

“Shawty, is my lap not good enough for you?” He puts on his best fuck boy face to try and make you laugh- and it usually did, but not this time. He drops the act and pulls your leg onto his.

“Spill, what’s going on?”

Not a sound comes from your lips and you just continue to look down at your lap.

With an extra dramatic sigh he wipes fake tears from his eyes, “ If you're not gonna say anything, I’m gonna have to assume you have terminal cancer.”

You shoot up with wide eyes,

“No!” With that Oikawa throws his head back laughing and you can’t help but laugh too. Eventually the laughter dies down and Oikawa has his serious face again.

“So are you gonna tell me what’s going on now?”

It’s quiet for another moment before you actually speak, “I don’t really wanna talk about it babe.” Of course, Oikawa wasn’t satisfied with that answer.

He takes both of your hands in his and kisses them both gently.

“Y’know you can tell me anything.” He was genuinely a little hurt that you felt like you couldn’t talk to him about whatever it was.

“Yeah I know, it's just-I .” You took a deep breath as you felt the tears sting your eyes. Oikawa waited patiently,

“I just feel like I’m too heavy for stuff like that.” Small tears began to stream down your cheek, but Oikawa wiped them away before they could fall too far.

Oikawa’s heart broke wiping away your tears. He had no idea you were dealing with this. He feels the tiniest bit of futile guilt. Despite it not being his fault, he wishes he could’ve done something to make you feel better about yourself. He kisses the top of your head before telling you,

“You are beautiful exactly the way you are, and I’m gonna prove it to you. I promise you.”

You feel your face go warm at his promise to you as he easily lifts you onto his lap. He pulls you into a deep kiss, and as your lips connect you feel the worry and anxiety melt from your body. His kisses trail to your collarbone and the collar of his shirt falls down one side of your shoulder. He leaves a sweet kiss on the edge of your shoulder,

“I don’t care if it takes all night baby.”

He looks up at you with such adoration, you know what he was saying was true. The way he looked at you made you feel beautiful inside and out.

Oikawa was true to his word, and made sure to worship you like you deserved.

[abunchofbadchoices]

Michael's Song

HSS Michael x MC (Jordan) in Midnight Sun AU

*Disclaimer: Most of the lines and scenes I got from the movie the Midnight Sun and all rights belongs to the creators and writers, as well as the characters from PB. This is merely a converted fan fiction*

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Part Four

"My God, Jordan..."

That notebook was like where Jordan writes her songs. She can't have lost it, right? Maria knows the girl would be devastated.

"Can you please go get it for me?" Jordan takes her hands, staring into her eyes. God, those green eyes are amazing. "Maria, you know it's so important. Please."

Her eyes blinked, "You know, I would, but there's, like, um... A few other hamster funerals that I was gonna hit today--"

The blonde grabbed a pillow and hit her playfully. They fell back, giggling as Maria tried to shield herself.After a minute or two, they sighed breathlessly and sits back. Jordan gave her that irresistible pout that Uncle Scott always warned her about. "Please, Maria?"

Ughhh, oh no, She groans. My poor weak heart.

Two hours later, Maria walks into the train station with her hands inside the pocket of her long coat.There is a slight drizzle in the air, making it chilly. She weaves her way through the crowd of commuters and headed to the spot where she knew Jordan always sits to play. She scans the stations carefully, then she find him.

Michael Harrison stands leaning against the wall on the corner, obviously waiting. Probably for a girl that would less likely to show up under the bright sky of the day. His fingers drumming a tune on the familiar notebook in his hands.

Maria was surprised. She didn't expect Michael to care to return something if he even found it. Yet there he is. She approached him carefully, they attended the same school and there is always the possibility he wouldn't even recognize her. "Hi. My friend's been looking for that."

Michael looks up. "You know her? "

Maria nods curtly.

"Wait, Maria Flores, right?" He gave her a slight smirk. "Student body president? We had English class together. I'm Michael--"

"Harrison, of course. I know. And it was actually a History class. And Geometry and chemistry last year. Not English."

"Whatever." Michael rolls his eyes. "But how do you know her? Did she just move here?"

Maria holds out her hand, her palm up. "Notebook first."

The guy narrows his eyes at her, not at all intimidated and stood his ground. "Or you could just tell me where she lives and I could drop it off."

Nope, not gonna happen. Maria glared at him then sighs. She doesn't really have time for this and it looks like he will only bug her if she doesn't say anything. "You know what, I have a better idea."

▪️▪️▪️

Her phone beeps, indicating a new message from Maria.

Got the notebook, but had to run to the shop. I left it at the station ticket booth.

Jordan smiles and sent a bunch of cute emojis back to Maria to express her thanks then went to bed, turning off her bedside lamp to call it a night. Or a morning. Whatever it is.

She wakes up that night just in time for dinner. After putting on her fabulous outfit of the day-- a baggy gray shirt, black sweatpants and old sneakers-- Jordan joins her father on the dinner table. Featuring Chinese take-outs.

"Hey, Dad," She looks up at the man, almost finished with her food. "I need to go to the train station to pick up my notebook. Fred has it."

"Okay, text me when you get there." Scott mumbled in between mouthfuls. "And be careful!"

Jordan gave him two thumbs up, then rush down the hall and to the evening streets. She should have called Maria first to ask if they can hang, but her best friend must be looking after the night shift of their family business, the local ice cream shop called Cedar Creamery.

So she went on her own anyway.

The town doesn't look as festive as yesterday. Few people can be seen on the streets as she walks the familiar path to the train station.

The station as well looks half empty. Half a dozen people lounging on the waiting area probably... Well, waiting. Their faces blank and bored. Jordan passed by and went directly to the ticket booth but the station officer was nowhere in sight.

"Fred?" She called, frowning. No Fred?

Jordan kept walking until she reaches the corner and spots a familiar figure leaning against the wall by the shadow. One of his hands inside the pocket of his signature green jacket and on his other hand, a blue hardbound notebook.

"Holy...pregnant...cow," She turns around and hides behind the corner she came from. "Oh. My. God! My God, my God..." Jordan retreats back to the other side of the ticket booth and pressed herself against the wall, hoping Michael hadn't seen her.

What the hell is he doing here??! Maria said she got the notebook already! Why is he-- Maria! She gotta call Maria!

On the other side of town, the ice cream shop was just recovering from the last rush hour of the day and only a few customers are around and hanging out.

"Thank you!" Maria forced out a cheerful voice and a friendly smile, then turned back from the take -out booth to let their service crew do their work.

She had been wearing this colorful apron since that afternoon and honestly, her face is already hurting for smiling too much. Maria should have been home, finishing her book but her Dad Stephen is at the police station solving his cases while his Dad Jose wasn't really feeling well so she was left to handle the ice cream shop.The telephone behind her starts ringing and with a heavy sigh, Maria picked it up and speaks. "Cedar Creamery, how may I--"

"Maria." Jordan's familiar voice cut her off, sound tensed and nervous.

"Oh, hey." She couldn't help but smile. If her calculations are correct, her best friend must be at the train station and sees her hopeless Prince Not-So-Charming waiting for her already. "How's your second date?"

"How could you do this to me?" The blonde whispers urgently. "My goodness! I'm in sweatpants. My hair, it's-- it's a mess. It's tied, messily tied! Uggghh... I look like an idiot!"

"Oh, please, Jordan." Maria chuckles and sits down on her father's office chair, the telephone wire stretching across the space. Sometimes, it make her wonder if Jordan even know how beautiful she is. The girl is too innocent for this world. She sighs and shakes her head, smiling like a fool. "You're super freakin' gorgeous, okay? I can't even see you right now and I can tell you look so beautiful."

"Hi, excuse me." A customer waves at her impatiently outside the take-out counter. "Can I just get a large--"

Maria holds up a finger to stop him, shooting the guy a look. "Can you not see I'm on the phone?"

She gestured for the crew to hurry why their doing and attend to the inpatient guy. As if she would drop her call with Jordan. Maria returns to the conversation. "Look, he really likes you, okay? I can tell. Just try to be yourself. Don't ramble too much. And call me afterwards."

"Ugh, bye." Jordan mumbled from the other line.

"Good luck, honey!"With that, Maria turns back to help the crew.

Jordan, meanwhile, stares at the phone for a few seconds in disbelief before putting it down. She looks to her side and realized the walls of the ticket booth is made in glass and totally see-through. From the other side of the booth, Michael catches sight of her and stands.

"Oh, my..." She gasped, turning her back to him and pressing face first against the wall hoping it swallows her and take her back to her room.

It feels suddenly hot. Why is she sweating? Jordan fans her face. Okay, Jordan. She whispers. This is real. He is here and he won't be going away any time soon unless you come face him. Take a deep breath... Jordan takes more than a few breaths then steels herself as she walks to his direction. She looks down to check if sweatpants is properly tied then performs a few warm up jumps.

"You exist." Michael Harrison's unmistakably smooth voice speaks. He stands there obviously been waiting for her to come out. A meaningful smile on his handsome face. "I thought I was dreaming last night or something."

Keep your cool. Jordan reminds in her head. Remember what Maria said, act normal. Don't ramble too much.Her mind goes completely blank when she meets his deep grayish eyes. Jordan speaks the first thing that came out of her head. "Were you in the REM stage of sleep?"

"What?" Michael looks confused.

"That's when most dreams happen, actually." Jordan explains. "Yeah! Your brain activity is super high and functioning and your eyes are just going nuts behind your eyelids. It looks super weird." You sound super weird, her subconscious snides. You gotta stop rambling, you idiot. She ignores it. "It's like a typewriter or something--um, anyway, thank you for--"

"Wait. I--" Michael steps back just as she reaches out to take the notebook from him. "I still don't know your name."

"Oh." Right. Jordan nods absentmindedly. "It's Jordan."

"Jordan." The gray-eyed guy repeats the name, as if practicing how to say it. The corners of his lips curved. "I'm Michael."

Of course, it is. "Wow... That's a weird name." Jordan avoids his gaze. He shouldn't know that she already knew his name. Like for ten years. "Thank God you told me it 'cause... I wouldn't have known it otherwise. T-Thank you." She grabbed the notebook from him and turns.

"Wait, what..."

"You didn't..." Jordan stops in her tracks as the thought hits her. She looks at Michael suspiciously. "You didn't read through it, did you?"

"Just a little, I--"

"What?!"

"What?" Michael blinks. Apparently, all she has ever done is confuse him all the way.

"Are you serious?" Her eyes widen. "You read through my journal?"

"Look, I--"

"This could have been a diary. I-- I mean, it is, kind of."

"Um, I'm... I'm really sorry." Michael looks down, frowning. Did he just said sorry? I never say sorry, he thought. He looks at Jordan who has a cute defensive look on her face. "You left really quick the other night, and I really had no idea who it belonged to, so I just looked through it quickly. But I like that you still handwrite things. It's... it's cool. It's old school."

He watches her eyebrows carefully. Michael finds it easier to read her through the movement of her eyebrows which he find quite amusing. They were frowning one second, then slowly smooths over, followed by a little smile.

"Thanks..." Jordan says quietly. "For finding it."

"Yeah."

Michael realized the notebook must be of something important. It looks old, but the stuffs written inside were recently written. Just a few random quotes, but Michael caught sight of a couple pages containing a drawn sheet music.

He figured she would definitely look for it. Like the way he would look if he accidentally lose his grandpa's old motorcycle. In a way, he do understand.

Jordan once again used the moment of silence to walk away.

"Wait!" Michael called after her. Fortunately, she looks back. "What, another hamster died? You have to..."

They both chuckle. Jordan has some dorky chuckles. "Um... I... I had to... I... I'm... I'm walking home."

"Can I walk with you?"

"Um, yeah."

Michael returns her sweet smile, gesturing for her to lead the way. They walk in silence down the empty road for a few minutes before he decided to break the ice. Something that doesn't happen all the time. "So, you were home-schooled? Man, that must have been wild."

"Actually, it was the exact opposite of wild." Jordan hugs the notebook to her chest. "My dad's pretty protective."

"He's not, like, watching us right now, is he?" He looks at the buildings they pass by.

"Yeah. He has his phone tapped into every camera." She rolls her eyes, making them both laugh. "So, um, what did you think of the songs you read? Without my permission, I may add."

"I honestly don't know." Michael shrugs. It was the truth. He won't just lie to impress someone. "I mean, you can't really read a song, right?"

"True."

He noticed the downcast look in her eyes. "I guess I'd have to hear you sing them."

Jordan blushes. "Um, so anyway... I'm right up there." She pointed to a house just down the street. "So you don't have to walk me."

"Wait. You live up there?" They stopped walking and stared at the two story family house ahead. Michael couldn't believe his eyes. "I... I don't understand how we've never met. I've probably skated by your house. Like, everyday on the way to practice."

"It's a..." Jordan makes a funny face then shakes her head. "Funny coincidence. Um, thanks."

She walks towards the house and Michael stayed on his spot, shoving his hands into his pockets. An idea crossed his mind. "Hey, you wouldn't wanna do something sometime, would you?"

"Uh... Together?"

"Yes, us together. Hang out."

"Well, you should put your number in here then." She flips through the pages of her notebook looking for a space but on one page, a number is already written on it. Signed by Michael.

"I'm old school too." He admitted, this time a genuine little smile on his face.

"Smooth. Thank you."

They stared at each other for a few moments, standing in the middle of the road before Jordan makes a awkward You rock! gesture that caused them to laugh then she sprints towards the gates of her house and disappeared.

▪️▪️▪️

Note: Thanks! Have a nice day. Or night. 🤣🤣

[macabremads]

Recompense//m.h

A big thanks to @sidekickjoey for helping me with my masterlist, ideas for this post, and editing since I am rubbish at fine tuning. 

Trigger Warnings: None 

Request? Yes 

Words: 1,208

~Part One of Three~

You had known Matty for almost two years, meeting at a club that had just opened in downtown Manchester. Something about you two just clicked and conversation seemed natural, especially when you mixed in a drink or two. Before you even knew it, you had talked for hours and Matty had to leave. But, he didn’t leave before exchanging numbers, leaving you with the promise to keep in touch. You both parted ways with full intentions to maintain a purely platonic relationship, as you had a boyfriend back home who you were content with and had made Matty fully aware of it.

Matty understood and accepted the fact that you were taken, never trying anything with you. Though, he couldn’t deny that there was some type of chemistry that floated around in the air whenever you were together. You had fallen for his witty personality and intelligence, and he fell for the smile that never seemed to leave your lips and the way you made him feel as though his life was stable. It was not hard to pick up on.

When you and your boyfriend ended things on ugly terms, he was the one who showed up at your apartment, George at his side with movies and snacks. He made himself comfortable and ran his fingers through your blonde hair to make sure that you felt at ease and needed. He was even able to get George to attend, even though he constantly made jokes about being the third wheel. You didn’t mind, you enjoyed their company.

At that point in time, Matty soothing you, it was like the final nail was put in the coffin: you liked Matty Healy.

Currently, you found yourself sat down at your and Matty’s favorite cafe in the center of Manchester - you two often went to this place when you went out to hang out. It never seemed to be extremely busy, despite being located in the most busy sector of Manchester.

Matty sat beside you dressed in his black floral shirt and tight skinny jeans, the smell of aftershave and cigarettes wafting through the air between you two, and his curls were pulled up into a small bun on the back of his head, his signature thin-rimmed glasses framing his pale face. You wore a relaxed outfit of black yoga pants, a sweatshirt that hung off your shoulder, and a beanie that somehow complimented his more eccentric one.

“As much as I love your company y/n, you never take me out to my favorite coffee place out of the blue like this. What is it that you need?” Matty questioned as he took a sip of his tea, eyeing your jittery movements.

The truth was, it had been almost two and a half years since your ex had broken up with you, messily you must add, and you had never really moved on, which was not news to Matty. You didn’t find him on your mind anymore, but you never jumped into another relationship like he did, probably because you subconsciously were waiting for Matty to say something to you, perhaps expressing that he enjoyed your company as much as you enjoyed his. While you were waiting for something that you believed would never happen, Luke had moved on with a girl who you had been brief friends with back in high school. They were a couple that didn’t look too great together from what you could see on Facebook, but you were happy for him, happy that he had gone out onto the scene and moved on while you sat at home and hung out with friends. However, that is where things kind of got complicated.

You were invited to his wedding, which completely shocked you as you didn’t keep up to date with Luke and his daily life. For some reason you wanted to go, perhaps to see if he would have a happy ending, or maybe for your own selfishness. You frankly did not know, but one thing you did know for certain was that you refused to go alone. You wouldn’t show up to his wedding looking like a loner. That’s where you wished Matty to come in.

“Why would you think I would want something from you?” You questioned, your eyes finally going to meet his. He shot you a look that obviously called you out on your shit and made you want to shrink back into your seat, wishing that you never called him to meet with you.

“I know you pretty well y/n, I can tell when you’re out of it so just spit it out already.” Matty smiled - a heavy contrast to his statement - before taking another sip of his tea.

“Luke is getting married this weekend.” Matty just eyed you, scrunching his brows together as if he didn’t quite understand what that had to do with anything. He just nodded his head slowly, coaxing you to come out with it. “I got an invitation to go but I don’t want to go alone. That’s all.” You shrugged lightly, not wanting to look as if the whole action of you going to the wedding was contingent on him agreeing to go with you.

“Are you asking me to go to your ex boyfriend’s wedding, y/n?” He questioned, chewing on his lower lip as he shot you a skeptical look as if he was going to downright reject the very concept of him going.

This action automatically had your mind regretting saying anything to him, for even thinking that it was possible for him to agree to something like this seemed stupid to you all of a sudden. You nearly went backpedaling when Matty spoke up.

“I mean, it sounds fun. I just don’t know what to wear,” he hummed, swirling his finger around the rim of his tea cup. “I suppose I could wear my suit from the Brit Awards, but that seems kind of cheap, doesn’t it?” You could hear Matty speak, but your mind could barely register it because yes, Matty actually agreed to go with you.

“Wait, you’re coming?” You questioned, your face brightening up as you felt as sense of relief wash over your body. It was as if his words took away the feeling of impending doom that had been resting upon your chest all that time.

“I do believe so, now, if you could stop looking at me like a bloody idiot, that would be amazing.” He spoke, catching your attention.

“Oh bug off, Matty.” Your hands tapped against the rings that were placed strategically on his thin fingers. It caught Matty’s attention.

“You’ve always had a thing for my rings y/n.” He spoke idly with a hum as you continued running your fingers over the cool brass. “Something else is on your mind. Let me know.”

“I just don’t want to attract attention at his wedding, or drag any unwanted people behind me.”

Matty nodded at the thought as you looked at his freshly painted black nails, a small smile gracing your lips as you looked up to him. A devilish smirk met your eyes.

“Well...attention is exactly what we’re going for, no?”

It was going to be a long, long wedding.

Send in requests