#i have a set 5 year plan that i can instantly repeat if asked but

[hxlcyon]

college.........

[damn-stark]

Chapter 5 Spider-boy

Chapter 5 of Moon Star

A/N- I hope you guys like this chapter!!!

Warning- Violence, blood and weapons, swearing, Angst, FLUFF.

Pairing- Marc Spector x daughter!reader, Spider-Man x Spector!fem-reader

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

Ding.

Metal scrapes against glass plates. The soft sound of rain drops thumps against the restaurant window at your side. Some overplayed pop song plays overhead. Different conversations fill the small diner. And silence fills the small space between Marc and you.

Ding.

Do your lives have to be in danger to repeat that ever so loving bond you shared that night?

Ding.

“These flapjacks are to die for,” Marc muffles with his mouth full of food.

You glance up at him and hum in agreement.

Ding.

Fucking jeez…

You turn the ringer off on your phone and place the screen down against the table's surface, causing your father to look at your phone out of curiosity as to why it’s been going off since you got to the restaurant. Yet he doesn’t dare ask, he just continues eating in the awkward silence that was blanketed over the both of you.

Maybe Steven could be better at this whole, rebuilding relationships? Perhaps he could emerge, Marc thought to himself as he ate the pancakes on his plate.

“So,” you break the silence and set your fork down to grab your milkshake. “It’s been a while since Khonshu left you to your lonesome, how does it feel? I mean you guys were together for quite some time.” You begin to smirk as you catch the sound of your own comment.

Your dad sighs and finally sets his silverware down. “Well…I don’t miss it. I finally feel free, you know?” He says, whilst you begin to sip on your milkshake. “I felt stuck for years. Now I feel like I’m getting my shit together again.”

You offer him a faint smile and put your drink down to reply once you swallow your milkshake down. “That’s good. I'm glad. What about Steven?”

Marc scoffs and lowers his gaze to slowly begin picking up his silverware. “Eh, he wasn’t aware of Khonshu until the very end, he won’t miss him.”

You begin to smile wider and lean in closer. “Is there a chance—” yet before you can finish what you planned to say, your phone begins to vibrate now, causing you to pick it up to check who’s annoying you.

“Busy?” Marc asks.

As you check who it is you see that it’s your local contact who wants to know if you’re interested in doing a small job.

“Eh, no, just…work,” you partially lie and just answer yes without giving it too much thought. “Just my tasks for next week,” you reassure your father and offer him a tight lipped smile before you put your phone in your bag.

Marc hums and then puts his things down to pull out something hidden under his shirt. You grow extremely curious but just before you can see what he took from his neck a flier is placed on your table, as you look up to see who it is, you see some random middle aged bald man.

“Join the cause,” he mutters before he walks away.

“Join the cause,” you mock and pick up the flier. However as you read what it says in big black letters, your smile falls and your amusement dies, and anger and sadness take its place.

“What does it say?” Your dad asks before he takes the flier from your hands to read it out loud. “Thanos was right, let’s put everything back as it was…” he trails off and slams the flier down on the table before he instantly gets up on his feet to look for the bald man.

“Pa,” you whisper and grab his hand to pull him back down. “Drop it. Just leave it alone.”

“No,” Marc retorts sharply. “No, why should I? What the hell was that purple fuck right about? Are these people listening to themselves?”

“No,” you interject and pull his sleeve down. “No they’re not, but I’m used to it.”

Marc slowly begins to sit back down, and slowly his anger begins to turn to disbelief.

“That’s all people have been saying since half of the population came back,” you continue. “It’s messed up, but we can’t do anything about it, just let them talk.” You sigh, and let his hand go to raise yours and ask for the bill.

Marc looks back and catches the bald man leaving the restaurant. You can tellhe wants to go after him, but you just insist for him to stay put.

“Maybe it was easy for some people,” you mumble as you wait for the waiter to come back with the check. “We can’t take that freedom of—”

“But it wasn’t easy,” your dad cuts you off. “For no one. People disappeared….you did,” he mumbles. “I thought it would stay that way for the rest of my life. A lot of us did.” He reaches for your hand and leans in closer. “It wasn’t easy. Don’t let these people guilt trip you into thinking so.”

You lower your gaze and remember the moment you came back, the need to see him in that moment, and the pain when he didn’t come see you, no matter how long you waited for him. So you quickly pull your hand back and turn your head away to hide the tears that form in your eyes.

“Here,” Marc whispers and hands you your crescent moon necklace back after you had given it to him when you thought you’d never see him again. “It’s yours.”

You look down at the necklace, and then look back at him with a faint scowl he doesn’t see since the waiter comes with the check.

“Here it is….”

You tune out the waiter as you look down at the necklace in your palm—You know the reason your father kept his distance, now you do, but why can’t it stop hurting? Why doesn’t this anger leave?

“Where to next?” Marc cuts you from your train of thought.

You fist your hand over your necklace and pull your hand down to your lap. “Uh,” you sigh. “Work. You wanted to see it, yeah? I can bring you in for a tour.”

——

“Building for a better tomorrow.”

“Oh wow,” you hear your father gasp as he begins to fall behind you.

“…look at Wakanda, all their technology is due to vibranium. Now that half of the population returned we are working towards matching their advancements without it.”

“Hi Bob,” you greet the recipionst as you prop your arms on the table.

“I thought you were off for the week, Spector,” he retorts as he rolls around on his chair to grab your ID card.

You nod slowly in agreement. “I am, but my dad is in town, I wanted to show him the place.” You knock your knuckles on the surface and peer back, seeing your dad—or correction Steven messing with the hologram on display in the middle of the wide large glass lobby.

“Here,” Bob breaks you away from Steven and pulls you back to him so you can grab your ID from his hand—“here’s your guest pass. Bosses are out, knock yourself out.”

You shoot him a half smile and then pull away from the desk to walk towards Steven still putting his hand through the hologram.

“Hello!” The hologram suddenly spoke before an animation of a lightening bolt appears, causing Steven to jump back.

“Oh. Jeez…hi,” he mumbles.

“Steven?” You ask slowly since it could actually be Marc.

Yet as he turns he confirms your suspicion. “Yes. That’s me. I’m here. I just wanted to check out this lobby. It’s very cool,” he begins to grin and looks back at the lightning bolt animation.

“Welcome to your future…” the animation speaks in a cartoonish voice so as to grab the attention of the public. Which is working since Steven is entertained by it

“Come on,” you tell him and hand him the guest pass.

Steven takes the plastic card from you as he keeps looking around in awe—“Steven,” you urge him and begin to walk through the hologram to head towards the elevators. “Let’s go upstairs.”

Steven slowly follows you whilst he slowly turns around and looks up at the tall ceiling that looked like the sky since it was so high up. “It’s so impressive here,” he says.

You nod, and when you reach the elevators you hit the up button. “Right,” you agree. “I was taken back when I first came here too.” You begin to smirk. “The reason the building is so big is because there’s also science labs here. Owned by the same people.”

Steven looks away from the ceiling and finally looks back at you to probe. “You work for the big man?”

You shake your head. “I work for a doctor that works for him, but I don’t work for him directly.” You walk on the glass tube elevator and click the number of the floor you work on. When Steven walks in, the elevator closes shut and then moves up swiftly, it almost felt like it wasn't moving.

“But soon,” you continue with a hopeful smile. “I will hopefully work for the big man like you call him.” You grin. “If all goes well and I don’t fuck up I might even become his youngest senior reseacher.” You let out a deep sigh and can’t help but grin.

Steven looks away from the sight of the city that was beginning to look smaller and smaller the higher you went up, and meets your gaze. “I’m sure you will. I mean your gadget stuff is already so impressive.”

You offer him a soft smile. “Thank you,” you say in return and look to the doors as the elevator comes to a stop.

“So what is it you’re working on?” You hear Marc ask now that he emerges again.

You step out and he follows. “Well,” you sigh and take a left to head down to your area. “Right now since I am an intern, I just do a lot of watching, I take notes, fetch stuff for my boss, you know all that stuff,” you let him know and turn right in the hall, seeing and hearing people working in their labs and offices. “But next week I will get some lab hours.” You share and turn another right to now head towards the lab your boss works at.

Yet before you can open the door you pull your ID towards the scanner so the door can unlock once the machine recognizes that it’s just you.

“Just don’t touch anything, okay?” You add and walk in as the door automatically slides open.

“Yeah,” your dad scoffs. “I’m not Steven.”

You laugh softly and roll your eyes.

Once you’re inside the organized and empty lab a silence follows you in as your dad takes in every machine, every robotic arm turned off since no one’s working in your lab right now. He then walks over to the lab coats hung by the door and grabs the sleeve to pull it towards him before he looks back and shoots you a smirk.

“You wear one of these?” He asks out if genuine curiosity.

You nod. “Yeah. I do.”

Mac begins to grin and nods before he lets the coat go, and continues to wander.

“You know,” he begins to say. “I always imagined you’d be working at a big place like this….”

You stop walking around yourself and watch him with a soft look on your face.

“I just, I don’t know…I always knew you were so freakin’ smart,” he continues and stops to crouch down slowly and look through a glass container that currently holds different gadgets and stuff the doctor was working on. “Everytime I thought about your future something like this always came to mind.”

You scoff softly and smile down at the floor, and begin gnawing on the inside of your cheek.

“You’re doing great, kid,” he compliments and turns around to face you. “Definitely better than me.”

You slowly meet his gaze and begin to smile shyly. “Trust me,” you redirect. “If I could be out there traveling the world in search of stolen artifacts I would.”

Your dad begins to make his way to the table you’re by and shakes his head. “Nah, nah. It might be fun, but that provides no future. Not like this,” he clicks his teeth and points around. “This…this is where you need to stay, Wolfie. Become a science doctor or what not. Make your own stuff, and make money the right way. Carve your own path.” He stops and leans over the table to keep holding your gaze. “That’s why I didn't want Khonshu messing with you. That type of work has the potential to ruin your life.”

You sigh and step back. “Layla is doing good,” you mention.

Marc nods. “She’s been lucky. But it’s a risk. Everyday. I..I don’t want you to run that.”

You drop your gaze and hum. How could—no. Just do it.

“Well, I think you’re very cool,” you admit in a quiet voice. “That’s never something that’s gone away.”

Marc slowly begins to stand up straight and slowly narrows his gaze as he also begins to smile.

“While Juniors dad brought to class his dads metal name card from his office, I would bring pictures you took at all the different cities, and the trinkets you had gotten me from Japan, or Mexico.” You begin to grin. “I was always the cool kid.”

Your dad chuckles and shakes his head. “Well,” he interjects. “Maybe Junior shoulda tried harder.”

You shrug and continue to tell him the truth. “Nah, no one could outdo you in any of my classes. Not even Melissa with the firefighter dad.”

Marc smiles widely and averts his gaze as he seems flustered. He doesn’t say anything on the regard, he just pulls away from the table and continues to wander. You step away from your spot by the table and try to show him something you’ve been brainstorming about, and hopefully try to push yourself to tell him about the successful nano-tech you’ve been working on.

However, before you can your phone begins to ring. And when you check who it is you see that it's your contact for your job later tonight.

“It’s school,” you lie and head towards the door. “I’m going to step out for a minute. Don’t,” You point at him. “Touch anything.”

Before your dad can say anything in response you walk out and make sure the door is closed before you answer your phone.

“Hello,” you say and begin to wander away from the door.

“Spector,” your contact says in his usual mischievous tone of voice. “It’s a lowkey grab today. 10pm at station 47 en route to Rockefeller.”

You groan and roll your eyes since it’s such a public grab.

“Man in his late 40s. Red hair. Green eyes. Carrying for one of his own contacts. Mike is his name. And the artifact should be in a black satchel.”

You stop and glance back to make sure the lab door isn’t opening. “What is it?” You ask.

There's a short silence before your contact responds. “Old, ancient gold statute from the late 14 century. So be careful. I’ll meet you tomorrow at our usual place.” He then hangs up, letting you let out a deep frustrated sigh as you turn your phone off before trying to head back to your dad.

Yet just as you do turn you bump into another body you didn’t catch approaching since they were in a hurry, and drop your phone.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry,” they quickly apologize in a very familiar voice. They then quickly bend down at the same time you do and picks up your phone before you can.

As they quickly shoot back up at the same time you do, they almost hit your chin with they’re head but they then swing their head to the side and quickly throw their hands out. When you look up you see that it’s a young white guy you haven’t seen working here. He also can’t look older than you are, but you haven’t seen him amongst any of the new interns.

“Here,” he says and meets you gaze, making you swallow thickly as you lock your eyes with his dark yet sweetest brown eyes—“Oh,” he gasps suddenly and pushes your phone towards you with more haste.

You furrow your eyebrows at his response and slowly take your phone from his hand, accidentally managing to brush your fingers against his.

“Sorry,” you mumble almost breathlessly and can’t tear your eyes away from the guy before you. “Uh…” you wait for him to say his name.

He right away catches what you were looking for and fumbles to pull out his ID card to point to the name.

“Anton Gutierrez,” you repeat and furrow your eyebrows deeper as you recognize something the moment his pale face, his dimpled chin, brown hair, and thin pink lips don’t match with the person that that ID belongs to.

“Yep.” The suspicious guy nods and keeps holding your gaze without saying anything; his jaw is slightly slack, and his gaze is mixed between fear and soft curiosity.

“Sorry, Anton,” you repeat slowly, and take note of his eyebrows now as you can’t help but study his face even if he isn’t who says he is; and notice that one eyebrow is partially brushed up, whilst the other one is just naturally shaped. It looks good on him.

“I-it’s okay,” he stammers and turns to begin speeding away. “Bye!” He interjects as he peers back.

You throw him a partial wave and a feigned smile as you stay in your spot, until the moment he turns the hall and isn’t visible anymore. After that you make sure the lab door is still closed before you storm after him, and end up circling around him.

And luckily just as predicted you cut him off before he can reach the elevators and run into him again.

“Oh,” he gasps from surprise and comes to a sudden halt. “Hello. Again.” He chuckles nervously.

You scoff and snatch the ID that was poking out of his coat pocket. “Give it up man. Your plan didn’t work. I work with Anton. You are not him.”

The guys eyes go wide as he sucks in air through his teeth. “No, I just—I—” he shakes his head and rubs his eyebrows before he points at you. “I’m friends with Anton! We work at the same place and he’s busy,” he rambles and keeps waving his hands around. “So he told me to come get his…this,” he says and pulls out a black leather wallet. “This is his. And I was on my way home so he might as well just sent me so I could—”

You hardly believe him, but he is rambling so you just cut him off to bring the both of you ease. “Alright, alright. I get it. It’s okay, calm down.”

The guy lets out a relieved sigh and drops his hands at his side. “Oh, god thank you I was just scared you’d report me.”

Your dad was here, waiting for you so you don’t really have time, so whatever this very cute guy was really here for you let it slide.

“Nah,” you assure him. “Not this time. But if I see you here again I will, considering Anton is in class right now not at work because his work is, this place.” You scoff and shoot him a smirk.

The guys jaw drops and he begins to shake his head and hyperventilate.

“Don’t,” you keep assuring him. “I don’t care right now. You did all the effort, who would I be if I foiled your well thought of plan.” You laugh softly, and he scoffs softly—“Uh, whatever your name is.”

The guy swallows thickly and his eyes soften, whilst he looks almost surprised. “Peter.” He says with a genuine soft smile on his lips whilst he puts his hand out. “Parker. Peter Parker.”

You glance down at his hand and giggle before you take it just as he was going to pull it away as he realizes what he did. “You didn’t ask but I’m y/n.”

Peter’s smile turns to a smirk and he keeps his hand around yours as he counters. “Just y/n? I mean I went through all the trouble of giving you my last name.”

You slowly grin in amusement. “Spector,” you share. “Y/N Spector.”

Peter pulls his hand away and nods as his smile widens. “Well, y/n I hope we can maybe run into each other again. Maybe under better circumstances.”

You scoff. “It would be a shame if I was the one that sent you to jail.”

Peter begins to walk back and rebuttals. “Yeah, I’d like to see you try.”

“Is that a bet?” You queire.

“Maybe.” Peter shrugs and turns around to head to the elevators.

Once you don’t see him anymore your dad finally comes out to find you. “Y/N,” he calls out. “Everything okay?”

You turn and face him with a faint smile. “Yeah.” You nod. “Yeah. Everything is fine.”

——

*LATER THAT NIGHT*

The music in your ears gets louder as the doors to the subway slide open.

A soft groan escapes past your lips as you tighten your grip around the burning coffee cup in your hand.

A variety of different scents dances in your nose as you step in the subway. And a variety of different people come into your pherial view as you look from side to side; one red-headed person especially stands out to you, so you turn to walk to the right and scratch the itchy wig on your head as you bop your head to the music.

As you begin to approach the red-headed man with the black satchel discarded on the side of his feet you pretend to look for a seat, but pretend you don’t see his feet out in the pathway and trip and “accidentally” drop your hot coffee on his lap.

“Watch where you’re going!” The man exclaims and jumps off his seat with his hands out to look down at his coffee stained pants.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry sir,” you say in a sweet voice and shift to his right to block his vision, so Marvin can take the seat next to the man, and then quickly switch the satchels.

Rather than bringing attention to himself by standing up and moving, Marvin moves the satchel you came here for and rests it at his side and pretends to be busy on his phone as he stays where he sat.

Meanwhile, you keep trying to apologize to the man using the best you have; the fact that you’re a young woman.

“I have,” you mumble and slip a backpack strap off your shoulder to look for a napkin. “I have something for you. I’m so sorry man. I’m such a klutz.”

The man takes one look at you and sighs before he shakes his head and lets out a deep and annoyed sigh. “I should be more careful. My feet were in the aisle, sorry sweetheart,” he says in a Boston accent before he sits back down. “It’s okay. It’s just coffee.”

You let your backpack swing back and meet the man’s gaze with a feigned apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry once again. I’ll be more careful.” You offer him one last sweet smile before you walk away and stay standing by the subway door. You proceed to go on your phone and pretend to be busy on it, which in reality you were distracted by it, mostly by the message your father sent you.

Dad:

Steven wants to go to Coney Island tomorrow. That okay?

You smile faintly at your phone and immediately respond.

You:

Yeah. Sounds fun :)

The subway begins to roll to a slow stop thereafter so you put your phone in your jacket pocket and wait. Once the doors open you make sure to get lost in the crowd. You then peer back and make sure the red-headed man isn’t close.

When you don’t see him nearby you pull off the backpack you had bought at some thrift store, and place it down by a homeless man’s makeshift music stand.

“Thank you,” he salutes you.

You offer him a partial smile, and as you climb up the steps of the subway station and begin to see the dark polluted sky over the Rockefeller center you pull your headphones off and tuck them in your pocket. You then follow to put your hood on and slip off the red cheap wig off your head and throw it to the nearest trash can.

After all, they say that the most subtle changes are the best kind.

Nevertheless, once you begin to walk past the Rockefeller Center to head towards your bike you left behind earlier, someone bumps into your arm, as you look over you catch Marvin walking at your side. He then meets your gaze and hands you the satchel before breaking away and going home his separate way so you wouldn’t be suspicious.

However, once you turn into the street you left your bike at, it’s of course gone. Your fault for not hiding it well enough.

Damn.

You sigh and have no choice but to walk home now. At least it isn’t far from here.

You grip onto the satchel and pull out your phone first to text your contact whilst you slowly turn to face the sidewalk.

You:

I have it.

You put your phone away, and as you look up you see the red-headed man from the subway, and two other men with black hoods over their heads.

“You really thought you would get away with it that easily?” The redhead asks with a scowl on his light brown face.

You stay where you are and shrug nonchalantly. “It was easy to take it.” You smirk, and the man scoffs whilst the other two snicker at him.

The redhead pierces his glare in you, and without warning he reaches back to pull out a handgun hidden behind his jacket.

You catch him point at your chest right away, so without letting go of the satchel, and as the man doesn’t hesitate whatsoever to hit the trigger, you cross your wrists over one another and stop the bullet with the bangles that are hidden under your jacket sleeves.

There’s a sharp pain you feel on your arms, before you also feel a burning spot on your skin, on the spot where the bullet hit the bangles. Yet the good thing is that there’s no feeling of blood trickling down your arms, there's no other intense pain. It…

It worked.

THE FUCKING NANOTECH WORKED!

You blink and look at your wrists in disbelief and pride, whilst the men blink rapidly in shock.

“Wh…” the red-head gasps and slowly lowers his gun to look at you.

“She’s a freak!” His friend on his right side proclaims before he also reaches back.

You blink and snap your eyes over to him before uncrossing your arms, and proceeding to lift up your left sleeve to change the bangles to claws on your Apple Watch; just like the claws Khonshu had provided for you in the short time you wore his ceremonial armor.

The man on the right then pulls the trigger, but before he can shoot, you lunge forward and swing your arm to gash his arm and make him drop his gun. You then swiftly twist around hastily to face the red-head and proceed to swing your arm again, managing to gash his face before he can shoot again.

Yet, as you’re distracted with those two, before you can hit the guy on the left, he gets to you first and bashes something hard and cold on the bridge of your nose.

You keep a hold on the satchel, but immediately lift your hand to cup your wounded nose, and groan as a sharp pain radiates throughout your offended area.

“Fucking…DICKHEAD,” you curse the man and stumble back. “Ah.” Thick warm liquid begins to trickle down through the gaps of your fingers, and drips down your face. “<Son of a bitch>, dickhead.”

Before you can let go of your nose you suddenly feel a tug on your satchel. You drop your hand to look down and catch the man’s hand on the satchel, so you pull right back, and then slowly glower at him before you kick the red-head in the crotch without shifting your gaze his way.

“Stupid little—” he groans and stumbles back.

The man on the right picks his gun off the ground and points at you, yet just as you snap your eyes towards him a fourth voice suddenly cuts in. “Above you!”

You try to look up, but before you can suddenly a flash of red swings past you and the man with the gun is gone from his spot.

“What the—” you gasp and snap your head to the other side and see the man webbed to the hood of a car. The man on the left also looks over and then begins to pant before looking over at you and pointing his knife at you.

“You—”

“Up here!” A familiar young voice shouts from your left, causing you to look over, and catching Spider-Man balancing himself on the railing of a fire escape. “Sorry did I scare you?” He asks and touches his chest as he begins to walk forward.

You slowly begin to smile up at the man in the red and blue tights.

“Stay back!” The man bellows and points his knife at Spider-Man.

“Oh,” Spidey gasps in feigned panic. “Oh no. Do you see that, Wolf?”

He remembers.

You look down at the man and nod. “A knife,” you say and step towards him. “Isn’t—oh no, your weakness its knives,” you play along.

Spidey jumps down and lifts his arms. “Please sir, whatever you do dont use it.”

The man slowly begins to step back and points his knife between you and Spidey as you both begin to corner him.

“Stay back!” The man yells out shakily and comes to a sudden halt as the heel of his shoe hits the red-heads gun.

He glances down and quickly bends down to reach it, but Spidey then shoots his web out and sticks his hand to the ground.

“You know it’s very rude to pick on defenseless girls,” Spidey remarks, making you scoff and side eye him.

“I’d hardly call myself defenseless,” you quip and prop one hand on your hip.

Spidey looks over at you and counters. “You did need my help.”

You furrow your eyebrows together and tilt your head. “Did I?” You retort. “I totally had that handled.”

“Hardly,” Spidey argues. “You were about to get shot.” He points.

“Meh.” You shrug again.

Spidey chuckles. “Meh?” He mocks you. “You were—”

Yet just before he can finish his comment he cuts himself off as an arm wraps around your throat.

“Gimme the satchel,” the red-head demands and grabs your wrists.

Spidey turns and gets ready to attack, but you then throw your head back on the man’s face, making him stumble back and letting you then spin around to swing your leg around and kick him back.

The red-head groans, and you proceed to punch him in the throat before pulling out one of your paralyzing gadgets, and activating it just as you slap it on his face.

He then falls stiffly to the ground thanks to you, letting you let out a frustrated breath of air before you turn and catch the other man webbed to the ground, while Spider-Man stands before you with his white bug eyes wider than usual.

“That was…that was co-awesome.” He compliments you.

You smile and scoff softly as you drop your gaze. “Thanks.” You slowly look up at him again and sigh. “Thank you for helping me. It seems you always find me at the right time. Should I be scared because you’re possibly stalking me? Or should I be forever grateful?”

“Stalking you?” Spidey quips in amusement and props his hands on his hips as he slowly walks towards you. “Do I need to remind you that you’re in my neighborhood? And it’s not my fault you always need my help.”

You giggle and shrug in defeat. “Okay, sure the first time, but this time I did have it handled.”

“Sure you did.”

You roll your eyes and then point back. “I’m sure you have a busy night so I’m going to head home before I get jumped again.” You turn and walk away from the alleyway, you then hesitate to put your music back on to wait if you’d hear him swinging away, but you actually catch fast approaching footsteps before you hear his voice.

“Do you want me to walk you home? I’m sure I can spare a few minutes just to make sure you get home okay.”

You turn around and face him as you continue to walk back, and he continues to walk after you.

“Are you sure?” You probe. “Hate to take you from your work.”

Spidey shrugs. “I’m sure, besides I think you need my help more with that bleeding nose. It looks broken.”

It definitely feels like it.

Regardless, your heart begins to pound at his offer, and you’re only hesitant because you genuinely are concerned, otherwise you would have accepted his offer right away.

“Fine,” you sigh and pretend to give in in defeat when in reality you’re excited and equally as nervous; it feels like you’re going to actually puke. But that might be the blood you taste from your bleeding nose.

Nevertheless, Spidey runs over to catch up to you. When he’s at your side you turn around on your heels and lead him towards your dorm.

“Okay I have one important question,” Spidey interjects right away.

You glance over at him and nod. “Shoot.”

“How are you so good at fighting?” He asks. “Like you’re very good.”

You scoff softly and drift your gaze away as you begin to smirk cockily. “Well one reason,” and the most important. “My mom taught me. And two,” you sigh. “I’m trying to prove something to my dad.” You begin to grin now. “If he wasn’t going to teach me I was going to find my own way.”

The bottom half of Spidey’s mask just slightly shifts as you assume he purses his lips together as he nods in comprehension. “Those are very good reasons,” he says.

“I know,” you quip with the same cocky attitude.

“By the way I should actually thank you,” he continues to say, making you knit your eyebrows together and smile nervously out of confusion—“you managed to fry my web cartridges so I went back and completely updated them thanks to you.”

You chuckle and glance at the street ahead as you turn the corner. “You are very welcome,” you snap. “Let me know if I can help again. I’ll be more than happy to.”

You begin to cross the street after checking that it was clear, and he continues to ask questions once you jog over to the other side.

“So you’re not going to tell me what’s in that bag are you?”

You glance over at him and simply shake your head.

Spidey sighs in defeat. “Just as I was going to tell you who I really was.” He mutters, making you snort.

“You were not,” you quip.

Spidey nods. “I was,” he says in a teasing tone.

You roll your eyes and shake your head. “Don’t tease me like that man.” You nudge him with your shoulder, and he nudges you right back. Yet even if it’s meant to be something lighthearted, some fun taunting, you suddenly go serious as you really just take this in, take in that Spider-Man is taking time out of his day to walk you home. To talk to you.

“Why,” you mutter now in that serious manner, “why are you doing it?”

Spidey tilts his head and probes. “Doing what?”

You stop and make him do the same so he can turn and face you. “Talking to me. Helping me. Like if we’re friends.”

Spidey shuffles back and moves his hands around nervously. He then scratches the back of his head and looks down to answer. “I-isn’t that what you wanted?” He asks and looks up at you again. “When you gave me your number?”

You blink and scoff. “I mean yeah…I was sort of testing myself. But I didn’t think you’d do it. I mean…” you swallow thickly. “Why?”

Spidey stays quiet and shrugs. “I don’t know,” he reveals after a moment. He then lets his big white bug eyes linger on you before he sighs and points his head forward. “Let’s go get you clean.”

The answer wasn’t really satisfying but it was one nonetheless, so for now you take it and continue to lead him to your apartment.

Once you reach it, you turn the lights on to your one room small apartment and welcome him inside.

“I’m sorry,” you excuse yourself and wait for him to walk in before you close the white wooden door behind him. “If it’s a mess. I just had stuff shipped from overseas.”

Spidey slowly makes himself inside your square apartment and looks around at the one single purple lounging couch in front of a small flat screen tv, he looks at the very tiny kitchen that probably only had room for one person to be inside, and then he looks at the boxes you tried to organize as best as you could by the wall beside your tv.

“I’ll bring the stuff so you can help me,” you mumble and walk over to your room to lock the satchel in a box under your bed before you go to the bathroom.

“Are these your parents?” You hear Spidey ask loudly so you can hear him from where you are.

You grab a first-aid kit, a splint, and a bandage from the bathroom counter under your sink. You don’t even dare look at yourself in the mirror, you’re too afraid to see the bloody aftermath, so you just quickly turn the lights off and stride out to join Spidey in the living room as he’s looking at the picture of you and your grandparents, hung over a wall by your door.

“No, they’re my grandparents,” you share, and step forward to point at an actual recent picture of you and your dad—well really it was one of you and Steven in front of an old Pyramid he was geeking over, but it’s the same body and face so it counts. “That’s my dad.”

“He seems nice,” he comments and then looks away to keep studying your wall picture.

You scoff at his comment out of genuine amusement. Steven was nice, he managed to make your fathers face look like he was nice, but Marc wasn’t that nice to people who he thought were threats, which as per usual included mostly guy friends you had.

“Here,” you interject and turn to put the things down on the very small circle table behind your couch. “Please be gentle, okay?”

“Gentle?” Spidey repeats with amusement and turns around to walk over to the small table. “Okay.”

You quirk your brow and counter. “What’s so funny about that?”

Spidey shrugs and opens the first-aid kit to take out the alcohol wipe packets. “You were kicking ass not so gently.”

You laugh and shake your head as you take a seat on a stool. “That doesn’t matter. I mean I can take a punch, but I'm sucker at actually tolerating the pain afterwards. No matter how tough I act.”

Spidey scoffs and gently pulls out a wipe after he tears the packet open. “Yeah, it sucks. I’m not so good at it either.” He leans down and carefully begins to pull the wipe up to the bridge of your nose where you can feel a small cut. “Especially when I’m upset.”

You smile faintly and meet his big white eyes not knowing if he’s actually even looking at you or not behind that mask.

“This is going to sting,” he warns before gently dabbing the wipe on your nose, making you wince and squeeze your eyes shut.

“Damn,” you hiss under your breath and grip onto the stool.

“Sorry, sorry,” he whispers and pulls the wipe away to grab another so he can clean the moist blood that was stained on your upper lip. “It’s…I’m just cleaning,” he explains nervously. “Just…cleaning. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” When he’s done he pulls his hand away again and grabs something else. As you slowly peel your eyes open you see him grabbing the splint off the surface.

“So,” he continues to add and looks back up at you. “Now that you asked me a question. I get to ask you one. That’s how this is gonna work. Okay? Is that okay?”

You nod without hesitation. “Okay. Sure. Shoot then.”

Spidey sighs and just before he can say anything he presses his hands against the bridge of your nose and cracks the bone back in place, causing you to instantly yelp and throw your head down as blinding obilirating pain shoots out.

“<Son of a bitch,” you swear in Spanish. “Son of a bitch. Ah—>”

“I’m sorry,” Spidey exclaims out and throws his hands out to try and comfort you. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t tell you what I was going to do because you’d only get scared, and you said you didn’t do good at tolerating pain so I didn’t want you to freak out. I’m sorry! Please y/n I’m sorry.”

In that moment of you suffering in pain you didn’t catch it. The moment he uttered your name when it’s been clear you were only using each other's nicknames and aliases.

“Fuck, it’s fine,” you murmur and grab his wrist to lift yourself back up. “You’re good.” You let out a shaky sigh and drop your hand back at your side. “Okay, go on.”

“You sure?” he asks.

You nod.

Spidey sighs and finally begins to put on the splint. “Okay,” he continues. “Now my question. Why are you doing it? Taking stuff. Risking your life for the work you do?”

You lower your gaze and shrug gently. “I guess because It’s something my family is into. My dad, my mom…I’ve always liked what they do.” You begin to smirk. “It’s fun to me. And well it also falls under the same category of me trying to prove something to my dad.”

“So you’re doing it to get back at him,” he guesses right.

You nod. “Yeah. I was. Now…well…I’m in it too deep. I can’t stop.”

Spidey hums and reaches for the bandage strip to carefully place it over your splint. “I get what you mean,” he mumbles, and due to his mask his voice is barely audible. “I can’t stop doing what I do either. I’ve tried…I’ve tried to stop but…I can’t, it’s my responsibility.”

You let the silence linger before you begin to frown and then rebuttal. “The difference is you do good. I steal stuff, I beat people up and I like it….” You avert your gaze and think back to those damn scales. “I’m not a good person, you are.”

Spidey puts down the wrapper and stays close. “Says who?” He retorts.

You feign a laugh and roll your head up. “Would you believe it if I said scales by an Egyptian goddess?”

Spidey’s white eyes widen before they quickly narrow. “I would,” he assures you. “I definitely would considering, well…everything.”

You scoff softly and smile down at your hands. “Well…a few months ago. Shit went down…and someone read my scales…which to explain it so you’ll understand, they were judging me.”

“Judging you based on what?” He asks.

“My heart…it was impure I guess…she was judging me based on thoughts, things I might do in the future,” you share in a whisper. “I don’t quite understand myself…it was a very long week, but it basically told me I wasn’t good.”

Spidey hums, he doesn’t laugh at all at what you just said which should sound ridiculous to anyone who didn’t witness or, to anyone who isn’t involved, but he doesn’t, he steps closer and comforts you.

“I don’t think that makes you a bad person, it’s just thoughts. I mean I think of punching customers all the time at work, do I? No.”

You smile sadly and mumble, “Steven would like you.”

“I mean what did you do that week? Did you-”

“With the help of my family we stopped that same goddess from devouring the souls of the world,” you deadpan and snap your eyes up to meet his gaze. “That’s what I did.”

“Oh,” he says and steps back as he nods in comprehension. “Oh. That’s, hm, you know I am not that surprised as I should be. I actually have so many questions now.”

You shoot him a partial smile. “Well it’ll have to wait won’t it?” You retort sassily.

Spidey props his hands on his hips and shakes before he sighs and continues with what he was saying. “I don’t think you’re a bad person. I know I barely know you, but I want to believe you’re not a bad person.” He step forward to get closer to you. Your smile softness, and your heart begins to pound in your chest.

“Thank you,” you whisper and hold his gaze.

Spidey keeps getting close until he’s only inches from you. He stays quiet, but a tension begins to grow in its stead. A tension that lets you hear only your soft breaths, and the neighbors muffled conversation. He then tries to reach for his mask, but you slowly put your hands out and grab the bottom of his mask. He puts his hands over yours and slowly begins to pull it up with you until you just stop on the tip of his nose. He tries to pull it up more, but you just slide your hands up to his cheeks and study what is revealed of him instead, taking note of his pale neck that clues you in more of who he might be. You also notice he has a dimple on his chin…

Just like the cute guy from earlier.

Regardless, Spidey also has thin pink lips.

He then leans in and you part your lips just partially. Yet just before you could close the gap a knock raps on your door, making Spidey and you gasp and jump.

The knock raps again before suddenly a voice echoes out. “Love, it’s me. It’s Steven,” he laughs softly. “I know I know I should’ve called or texted, but would you guess what? My phone died.”

“Fuck,” you whisper and quickly get to your feet and grab Spidey’s arm to pull him towards your room. “Stay. It’s my dad, he can’t know you’re here. He’ll get nervous and tell my dad.” You don’t catch what you say and just begin to close the door.

“Wait I thought that was your dad—”

You cut him off as you shut the door and run over to open the front door, and greet Steven as he stands just outside your door. “Steven,” you grin and pant. “Hey, man, what’s up. Come in.” You step aside and let Steven walk in before shutting the door and slowly stepping over to have your back blocking your room's door.

“We were in the neighborhood,” Steven begins to say and puts down a paper sack on your table. “So I thought I’d come and drop off our favorite…” he turns and shoots you a sweet smile. “Donuts. There was this neat vegan…” Steven trails off and his smile fades as worry sets in rather quickly. “Hey,” he says and begins to point at his own nose. “What happened, love?”

You lift your hand over your nose and quickly make something up. “Boxing,” you blurt. “I had boxing class today. My partner missed the swing,” you laugh breathlessly. “I’m all good though Steven, don’t worry.”

Steven hesitates but slowly nods as he puts his hands back down at his side. “Well if you say so.” He sighs and begins to smile again. “I brought you a chocolate donut and a glazed one, so enjoy. That’s all I came here for. Oh! And to wish you a goodnight.”

You smile softly and stay where you’re at as he walks over to the front door. “Thank you, Steven, that’s very sweet of you. Goodnight.”

Just as he has his hand over the knob he then looks back and interjects. “Oh! And tomorrow, I hope you don’t mind that it’s just a me and you day. Marc can’t hog up all our time with you.”

You grin and nod. “That sounds like a plan. And I bought us matching shirts that say I Love New York, so,” you giggle. “Tell Marc to get ready for that.”

Steven grins. “Really? That’s rad.” He opens the door and pushes it open. “Thank you, love. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Steven. I’ll text Marc in a bit.”

Steven nods and waves at you before he closes your door, and lets you breathe out in relief.

Once you don’t hear his footsteps out in the hall you run back to open your door and let Spidey out. “Okay, He’s gone. Sorry about that. I just…” you explain and walk back out with him in tow. “I just couldn’t let him see you.”

“Uh, question, earlier you referred to your dad—”

“Oh,” you cut him off and realize only now what you said. “Steven is my dad's….alter. He has a condition,” you say without shame.

Spidey’s eyes widen as he nods slowly in comprehension. “Oh, okay.”

You hum and then lift the brown sack. “Vegan Donut?” You ask.

Spidey looks at your bag and then at you and nods. “Sure!”

You put the bag down and open it to let him pick it out as you go and wash your hands.

When you’re done you walk to your room and change out of your bloody shirt and into a random hoodie you find on your bed. Once you walk out and rejoin Spidey you catch him with his head tilted towards the window as distant sirens begin to cry.

Meaning one thing.

“You can take it,” you assure him. “My treat for helping me.”

Spidey bites down on the chocolate donut and begins to walk towards your window. “Thank you. And I—I'll text you. Later.” He says as he opens your window with the pad of his fingers.

You follow him to the window and nod. “Alright,” you say and watch him as he begins to climb out with the donut in his mouth. “Be careful!”

Spidey looks over at you as he has one hand on your window sill, and his other hand and his feet stuck to the brick wall. “I always am,” he says softly. “Goodnight y/n.”

You offer him a soft sweet smile and redirect it back at him. “Good night, Spidey.”

After one last lingering look he throws a web out and swings away.

And it’s only once you don’t see him anymore that you realize he said your name. You’re actual name when you haven’t given it to him yet. When Steven didn't say it when he came just now. When there was nothing out in your house that said your name; sure he might’ve snooped in your room. But…now you realize that he said your name before too.

He apologized earlier and said your name. Before he went in your room.

How does he know your name?

Wait. His thin lips and dimpled chin. His voice. It…

Holy.

It matched exactly with the guy you met earlier, and it might be coincidence sure but his voice isn’t. It’s the same voice.

Oh my fucking—

Spider-man is the guy you met earlier. His name is Peter Parker.

Holy shit!

.

.

.

.

Tagged: @broadwaytraaaaash @jasminemohmed

[lonesomedotmp3]

2, 4-6, 20 :D

hiii 🖤🖤🖤

2 - album of the year

emails I can't send fwd SORRY!!!! that album legitimately got me through this year it turns out what you listen to in the worst month of your life sticks with you... but the baby by samia and grace by jeff buckley and the rise and fall of a midwest princess are all runner ups...

4 - movie of the year

just did this and listed quite a few but tbh there are so many more... dick 1999 escape room 2019 slashorette party STUDENT BODIES. student bodies was so fucking good... and I did already say bottoms but FOR YOU i Will repeat bottoms was such a Moment 🫶 I had literally been waiting for it the entire year and my girlfriend havana rose liu was there and everyone was so sexy it was unreal...

5 - tv show of the year

faking it was one of the greatest parts of this year it was so fun and weird and 2014 and my best friend amy was there and the toxic homoerotic girl best friendship was insane HOWEVER. seinfeld was formative this year... truly by the end it was just like hanging out with friends everything I did I was like wow this is just like seinfeld it was so good to watch.during the especially as i.kept feeling more and more insane. Comfort television that's sort of meandering and emotionless and anti comedy <3

6 - episode of tv that defined the year for you

wow that's a deranged question ok. the first thing I can think of is yellowjackets 2.01 friends roman countrymen which was such a good brain altering episode and ofc at the time we didn't know season two was going to kind of flop so it was really exciting waiting for the next episode. but DEFINED the year. honestly maybe 7.01 of riverdale in the most bitter pessimistic way possible like it did Define The Year in that riverdale was supposed to Fix things (I know that's a stupid idea but whatever things were rough) and now only did it fail to do that it just left me confused and insulted and.more miserable than ever. yeah that's perfect actually. so much hope and optimism (february fortune cookie) Instantly dashed to create a.more depressive mood than ever. 🤸 but whatever season seven isn't real and it can't hurt me.

20 - what's something you learned this year

it's not going to get better. sorry that's horrible I'll think of something nicer to end on. I wasn't planning on this being a bummer I sort of forgot this year sucked. and I'm not saying that in an edgy way or to get attention it's purely just that sometimes things are the way they are and there's nothing you can do about it and I can't spend my whole life feeling bad about it. like my mum is so upset that cbt didn't magically cure me and it's like. this is just a thing I have to deal with forever! there's no cure! and if it ever gets better it'll be a pleasant surprise but why would I set myself up for devastation and disappointment again like I did at the beginning of this year. frankie community voice I never hope hope is pouting in advance.... anyway on a lighter note! talk to your seminar professors about your essays! it sucks but it does really make them so much better!! I got a first in a philosophy essay for the first time because of it 🫡🫡🫡 now I just have to remember to keep doing it even though it's extremely embarrassing asking your professor to do their job for some reason

[asparrowonthewind-blog]

Messy Meditations

Messy Meditations

Winging it on a chaotic spiritual journey to the next coffee break…

               When did we all, as a species, decide to gather and proclaim that a vital part of the human existence is a desperate search for inner peace using the generic “spiritual journey.”  One moment you’re fondling a rose quartz tower at the cart in the now abandoned mall that wreaks of off brand Naga Champa, and the next you are a baby fawn stumbling through the dense wood of shadow work.  All the while a dooms day clock ticks above you demanding you to “heal” faster, evolve quicker, let go instantly, didn’t you know we are basically all high frequency vibrating drones now?  

               I can’t.  Yes, I stand here in the face of all the girl bosses, rise and grinders, armchair psychiatrists, gurus, “self-made” baddies, curated Instagram accounts, viral TikTokers and declare, I Sparrow Lovett, of stressed mind and below average bank account, can NOT. When did we decide that doing our best was not enough?  When did I relinquish my definition of what is “good enough” to the discretions of an aesthetic?  Is this the price of asking for help with “feeling better?”

               So now I’m here.  I’m nearly 38 years old and I feel like that sparking end of a drowning candle wick trying to do all the things that are going to “improve my life.”  My face is drowning in moisturizing serum, I have 2 different lotions for my body and a strict regimen for mouth wash.  My diet fluctuates from a devoted raw veggie enthusiast to oh my god it’s fried sugar!  I’m desperately clawing at the last shred of my socially acceptable youth while trying to age with grace before I am banished to my crone chapters. I am treated as an infant and an elder in a world I was promised but never inherited, and frankly I’m tired.

               This is my stand, here in this pre apocalyptic hell-scape, I make my mark and say, “5 more min please.”  We are all just trying to survive to the next break, aren’t we? Yes, I am going to be a good consumer and buy the face wash, and I’ll repeat my positive phrases while I scrub it on too but, I’m also going to stop not letting each little thing affect me. I’m going to cry at beautiful films, hell I’m going watch beautiful films more.  I am going to walk at night for my health, even if sometimes it’s just to the gelato shop.  I am not a gremlin, goblin, feral raccoon.  I am not a lucky girl, and I don’t glow up.  I am a mess but I’m doing my best and somehow that’s okay.  I will keep these little embers radiating with a flare or two of passion here and there.  I am undefeatable, I am sometimes disagreeable, I am forever fighting for my place in this garden… I am a tomato plant.  Side note I am a lot of things…

               I could now impart upon you with some glorious plan on how I shall set out to live my life as my “best self” and fill every moment with “that human” energy, I could, but I honestly don’t want to.  There is no plan, no 20-point routine or schedule to fail. Instead, I want to live my life with a few simple principles and see what sticks, so let’s toss the spaghetti!

Here are the things I will ask myself in the morning as I wash my face and think through my day:

1.       What small thing can I do today to make things in my home more pleasant?

2.       What small thing can I do for myself that will elevate my mood?

3.       What is one small change I will make to correct my negative habits?

            I’m sure there are quite a few more things I will ask myself while I get ready, I mean it takes like 20 minutes to scrub the sleep off so it’s not like I don’t have time. Still, I want to keep it short and sweet but, most importantly painless.  

In the same fashion I will ask these at night before bed:

1.       What went well today and what actions can I take to keep the good things flowing?

2.       What didn’t work and what can I do on my part the next time?

3.       What is one thing I am looking forward to?

It is my hope that while my life is a mess these simple meditations will help me create my own organized chaos.

 *- I’m stressed, I’m a mess, and I’m doing my best -*

[strawberrylemonz]

A Mother for Two

Welcome to the continuation! As always, time to dedicate these chapters! Hope you all enjoy, especially @applepie1000

@petrichormeraki I will fist fight you lmaooo /j

Part 3

Part 4 [CURRENT]

Part 5

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

“You two sure you have everything you need?”

“We’re sure, Xisuma, jeez. It’s not like we’re leaving for good, we’ll be back by tonight.”

Grian snickered as Tommy was swiftly swatted on the backside of his head by Xisuma. Huffing, the boy griped as the group walked over to the portal leading to the Hub. As Xisuma gave the two another look over, Grian finally spoke up.

“Tommy and I will be just fine. We’ll just set up the fliers, get supplies, get our asses back here. Done, easy work.”

“Yeah, easy work!”

“Nothing is easy work when the two of you are together for too long. Just don’t cause too much trouble, nothing more than usual.”

After bidding farewell to Xisuma, the two boys walked into the portal. Instantly, voices chatting with each other filled the silence. The two stepped out of the portal and into the Hub. Players of all kinds here entering and leaving several portals. As the two made their way through the portal transportation section, Tommy examined all the portals. 

Hermitcraft

Stampy’s Lovely World

Pixelmon

MCC

Hypixel 

Cops and Robbers

There were so many portals to so many places. He had only been through the Hub to get to MCC. He was always focused on getting to his destination that he didn’t stop to look closely at every other portal around him. Stopping in his tracks, he stared at a ruined portal. It was grand and beautiful, but falling apart. It was cracked and broken, no longer activated. The giant sign above it proudly held it’s name, keeping the world from being forgotten.

SMP EARTH

Grian was walking when he felt something off. Turning around, he noticed that Tommy wasn’t following him. Tilting his head and looking around, he saw that Tommy was just standing there, staring. Excusing himself as he pushed passed the crowd, he eventually made his way to his brother. Before he could get onto his brother for immediately separating from him, he saw what his brother was looking at. Making a humming noise, he nudged Tommy before pulling out a large banner. Tommy nodded in understanding, and helped Grian unravel the banner. Working with haste, the two strung up the banner on the inactive portal. Once it was secured, they stood back and admired their work.

GRAND OPENING!!!! 

HERMITCRAFT PROUDLY PRESENTS:

INNIT AN ADVENTURE?!

We, in Hermitcraft, happily invite you to join us in the opening day of our latest amusement park, Innit an Adventure! Created by our very own TommyInnit, we encourage you to spend the day with us! Come join us as we make unforgettable memories! Keep an eye out for festival week, and join us for a wonderful night of dancing! 

Are you innit with us?

“Looks great!”

“Of course it does, we made it.”

“Yeah yeah, lets just finish the set up.”

Smiling, the two boys set up two podiums underneath the banner. Taking out a good amount of pamphlets and fliers, they neatly set them down on the podiums. Content, the two began to walk away from the portal as people began to stop at the ruin, murmuring in excitement for the adventure park. 

“This is going to be a success, I can already tell you that. Good job, baby brother.”

The two laughed as they made their way through the portal Hub. Grian noticed some people he recognized and waved them over, already pulling pamphlets out of his bag. Tommy laughed as he looked around, fliers in hand, searching for anyone who was willing to get one. That’s when he saw it. Gulping, he quietly walked up to a neon green portal. 

DREAM SMP

Reading the sign attached to the portal, Tommy saw that only whitelisted people could enter. He was whitelisted. He could walk in, right now, and possibly lose his final life tied to the world. Shaking his head, he snapped himself out of his thoughts and scoffed at them. He liked it in Hermitcraft, he didn’t want to leave it for a terrible past. He didn’t have to worry about permanently dying in Hermitcraft. He didn’t have to worry about losing his shit or having said shit used against him. 

“Although...”

As Tommy mumbled to himself, he eventually came to a final decision. Nodding to himself, he crumbled a couple fliers and chucked them into the portal, sending them to the SMP. It was common knowledge that, even though people couldn’t enter, they could send items. With the fliers crumbled up, it would appear as if random passerby’s just threw trash in, making it easy for Tommy to deny inviting them.

Tommy knew that he didn’t want to go back to his past, that much was crystal clear. But what was stopping his past from going to him? If they missed him as if and wanted to see him again, they would need to make the effort. Humming with approval, he walked over to Grian, who was finishing talking to his acquaintances. 

“Hey, big man, maybe we should send some of the fliers and pamphlets into the portals.”

Grian thought for a bit, before nodding in agreement. Taking half of Tommy’s fliers, Grian gave him half of his pamphlets. Nudging towards the main server, he explained his plan.

“I’ll handle the portals and the travelers, okay? You go out and hang up banners and set up more podiums. Meet me at Feast Street for lunch, okay?”

“Okay, okay, calm down. I can do this, I’m not useless.”

“Far from it. See you later, Toms, love you.”

Tommy stood in silence, watching his brother walk away. His brother’s proclamation of love had caught him by surprise. A smile formed on his face as a warm feeling bursted through his chest. Looking around, he found some crates nearby. Standing on them, he inhaled before hollering out.

“GRIAN!”

He saw his brother turn around, confused. He felt his face flush as a couple of strangers faced him as well. Ignoring them, he yelled out in confidence through the crowd.

“LOVE YOU TOO, BIG BROTHER!”

He saw Grian laugh, a big smile painted on his face. The two exchanged waves of goodbyes before turning their separate ways, ignoring the cooing noises from the crowd. Tommy laughed as he situated his satchel. Nodding, he made his way down to the capital city.

--------

Things were going great for Tommy. Do take note of the use of past tense, just pointing that out there. Now, Tommy was being scolded as if he were a child again. For Nether’s sake, he was 18! Yet, here he was, being scolded for something he didn’t do.

“I swear that I didn’t do shit!”

“Then why are you being so defensive?”

“Because you’re accusing me of crap that I didn’t even do!”

Apparently, according to the stupid shopkeeper that was currently giving him a hard time, some kids were going around and stealing stuff from the shelves. Due to the stress, the shopkeeper immediately accused Tommy of being apart of that group of kids. She wouldn’t let him leave, even after he explained himself. So there he stood, feeling like a helpless child once again.

“Is something the matter?”

Tommy turned to see a petite woman standing behind the shopkeeper, arms crossed. Despite her height, or lack of it, she seemed very intimidating. At least, that’s what the shopkeeper seemed to believe.

“Oh, ma’am, my apologies! I was just reprimanding this deli-”

“My son. You’re reprimanding my son.”

“Son???”

“SON??? WHAT???”

“What is she doing?”

“NEW PARENT POG???”

“Huhhhhhh??????”

“FINALLY OBTAINING A MOTHER, POG???”

“MUMZA???”

“MOTHERINNIT???”

Tommy perked up at this, peering over at the lady once more. The shopkeeper seemed flabbergasted at how blunt the woman was with her. The woman, however, stayed firm with her stance and gaze. 

“You’re son, ma’am?”

“Yes, my son. How many times do I need to repeat myself? I sent him in here to buy some fresh fruit to snack on before lunch, but I now see that was a mistake.”

“W-Wait, no! Ma’am, I didn’t-”

“We will find a different shop to go buy fruit at, instead. Do think about things before acting. Here,”

The woman grabbed a flier and a pamphlet from Tommy, handing it to the shopkeeper.

“You can make things up to both me and my son by telling shoppers about this. Now, we shall take our leave. Come on, dear.”

The woman held her hand out to Tommy, who nodded his head and took it. She led him out of the store and to the street, ignoring the apologies coming from the shopkeeper. Once they were a good distance away, she let go.

“Sorry about that, but you seemed stuck with her hounding you like that. I was going to ask for a flier or pamphlet, but figured I should help you instead.”

Tommy blinked a few times before laughing alongside the woman. Chat was laughing alongside them, taking a liking to the mysterious woman who had saved their little pogchamp.

“Ah, I should introduce myself. I’m Kristin, very nice to meet you! I’m originally from SMP Earth, but I somehow ended up here many years ago.”

“SMP Earth? Holy shit, I’m from there, too! I’m Tommy, by the way. Well, my actual name is Thomas, but everyone calls me Tommy. I’m from Business Bay, but I eventually became the youngest prince of the Antarctic Empire.”

“Youngest prince? Are you Phil’s brother?”

“What? Nah, he adopted me as his son.”

Tommy was startled as the woman, Kristin, began choking on air. Alarmed, he pat her back as he gave her a water bottle he had on him. After a while, she raised her hand and nodded, indicating that she was okay.

“Wow, he has a son. The world is ending, hah.”

“Four, actually. He has four sons.”

“Oh my god, I’m going to have a heart attack.”

Tommy laughed before asking what was on his mind. Judging by the breezy feeling that moved across his starry face, he knew that Clara led this woman to him.

“How do you know Phil?”

Kristin’s face brightened up as a small blush painted her cheeks.

“Er, how about I tell you about it as we walk?”

“Better yet, why don’t you tell me and my older brother about it over lunch?”

--------

Grian was not expecting Tommy to come back with an older woman. He didn’t mind, however, after hearing how she saved his brother from the shopkeeper’s rage. Laughing, he ruffled the younger boy’s hair. 

“Haha, you found a mother!”

“We’re brothers, so wouldn’t that make her our mother? Sheesh, dumbass.”

Kristin laughed out loud in the background, holding her stomach and she doubled over. Tommy happily smiled, very glad to have someone appreciate his language. Once they all gave proper introductions and a reason as to why Kristin was with them, they all got food and sad down at one of the outside tables.  After getting a few decent bites into their meals, Tommy spoke up.

“So,  how do you know Phil?”

“Ah, yes, that old fart-”

She smiled as both boys snorted at that statement. Taking a bite out her bread roll, she waited for them to settle down before. Nodding her head, she continued.

“It’s true, he is! Anyways, I knew him when I lived back on SMP Earth. I was, well, am the princess of a smaller kingdom back there. Phil’s parents had started a small kingdom of their own, the Antarctic Empire. My parents, along with his, arranged for the two of us to be married to one another. I would have usually thrown a fit at an arranged marriage, like I always did when they brought up suitors, but Phil and I actually liked each other, so we agreed. I disappeared before the wedding, however, fell through my mirror and into a hardcore world. Once I made it out of there, I ended up here. Been here ever since.”

Grian started choking out of surprise. Tommy and Kristin both moved quickly to help him, worried. Once he gave them a sign that he was okay, he adjusted himself.

“You’re Queen Kristin?”

“Queen?”

“Yeah. I read it in one of the books in the archive when I was younger. Although you disappeared, you were still married to my dad, and the two kingdoms were merged into one.”

“What?”

Kristin stared at Grian, confusion and disbelief painted her face. Suddenly, she groaned and hit her head against the table. 

“This explains why some of the things I bought took way too long to finalize! My last name has been Minecraft this entire time!”

Tommy and Grian shared a look of disbelief. This was the only thing she was concerned about? Being married to Phil wasn’t troubling or shocking news to her at all! Suddenly, Tommy’s eyes widened as he gasped, pointing at Kristin. 

“WHAT THE FUCK?! THAT MAKES YOU MY ACTUAL MOTHER.”

--------

Kristin helped them finish setting up banners and podiums. She also aided them in passing out fliers and pamphlets to passing people. Once they ran out, she walked them over to the Hub. As they stood at the entrance portal to Hermitcraft, Tommy hugged Kristin, who ran her fingers through her head. She may have been new to the whole mother thing, but her caring instincts were enough to comfort the young boy.

“I wish I could come, I really do, but I’m not on the list. I’ll have to wait until opening day.”

Before Tommy could whine, Grian spoke up. 

“What if we got you on the list? Would you move in, then?”

Kristin laughed as she pat Grian’s shoulder, a smile painting her face.

“Of course! I just found out I had family! You guys aren’t getting rid of me that easily. Here, take this. If you guys get me on the list, use this to get to my house.”

Tommy brightened up as he was given a compass labeled Kristin. He nodded as Grian promised. 

“Bye Kristin! See you around!”

“Bye Tommy, Grian, I’ll see you two soon.”

The boys watched as she walked away, a pep in her step as disappeared into the crowd. Nodding to each other, Tommy and Grian went home.

[waitimcomingtoo]

Wait For Me

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: you tell Cap the story of all the times you and Peter waited for each other. Takes place during Engame

Listen to Wait For Me from Hadestown for the inspiration behind this story

Masterlist

6 years ago

“Whats the B for?” You asked as you traced your fingers over the shiny brass clasp of Peters suitcase. It was your first time hearing of his superhero abilities, and he had pulled out his suit to confirm his identity. You had always known there was something special about Peter, something that set him apart. Him being a superhero came as no surprise to you, so you were more distracted by the monogrammed suitcase where he kept his suit.

“Benjamin. Like my uncle.” He said as he watched your face for any signs of judgement. There was the slightest whisper of a smile on your lips as you rubbed your thumb over the engraving.

“I remember him.” You nodded and looked up at Peter, squinting your eyes to get a good look at him. “Benjamin. I like that for you. It’s fitting.”

“Is it? I always thought Benjamin was an old mans name.” He laughed shyly as he scratched behind his ear.

“No. It’s cute.” You told him and he flushed. “You look like a Peter Benjamin, you know? Some people just look like their names.”

Peters mouth opened and shut a few times and he tried to think of a response. He wasn’t used to talking to you everyday, much less used to how pretty you’d gotten. 10 years apart and suddenly you were hanging out in his bedroom everyday, catching up on the part a of each other’s lives that you had missed. Your delicate features, now more defined with age but still soft, made it hard for Peter to think around you. He thought he’d never see you again after you left but here you were, folded up in his bed and running you fingers over the material of his Spiderman suit.

“I’d say the same for you, but you never told me your middle name.” He said finally, thinking back in his memory for any indication of what it was. “It begins with an E right?”

You smiled softly at him, appreciating his keen memory.

“Eurydice.” You told him and he tilted his head.

“What?” He asked, not realizing that was the name.

“It’s Eurydice.” You repeated. “It’s from greek mythology. It was my mother’s favorite story growing up.”

“What’s the story?” Peter set the suitcase on the ground and scored closer to you to give you his full attention.

“You really wanna know?” You tested him, still able to tell when he was lying.

“With all my heart.” He said as he crossed his heart with his fingers. You rolled your eyes at him, not having seen that movement since you were litter.

“Okay. There are a few different versions, but this one is my favorite.” You began. “A long time ago, there was a poor woman called Eurydice and she was married to a musician named Orpheus. Eurydice knew they were gonna starve if they didn’t make some money and buy food, but all Orpheus wanted to do was make music. She ended up selling her soul to Hades-“

“Wait, you were named after a devil worshipper?” Peter cut you off with a laugh.

“No.” You shoved him playfully. “Hades is the god of the Underworld. He’s not the devil.“

“Okay. Go on.” He urged you, leaning his chin on his hands, unintentionally squishing his cheeks.

“So Eurydice sells her soul and gets sent to the Underworld. When Orpheus finds out, he goes on this long, dangerous journey to the Underworld to find her. He gets there and plays his music for Hades, the song he’s been working on instead of getting food. Hades was so moved by his music that made a deal with him: if he can walk out of the Underworld with Eurydice following behind him, they can both go free.” You went on, smiling at Peters squished face.

“Sounds easy enough.” He shrugged.

“It wasn’t.” You held up a finger. “There was a catch. Orpheus was never allowed to look back and make sure Eurydice was still behind him. He just had to trust that she was. He wasn’t allowed to look at her until they were both out.”

“So what happened?” Peter leaned forward, eager to hear the rest.

“They walk the long, scary way back to earth, guided only by a lantern. Orpheus goes the whole way and never looks at her. But right as he’s about to make it out-“ ,You paused for effect and Peter whined in anticipation, “-he caves. He looks at her and she’s sent straight back.”

“He couldn’t do it? He couldn’t take that last step?” Peter exclaimed, frustrated with the ending.

“He couldn’t wait to see his wife.” You sided with Orpheus to defend him.

“But he was so close!” Peter whined, getting worked up over a fictional story.

“I know. That’s what makes the story as beautifully tragic as it is.” You told him.

“Orpheus was an idiot. You’re lucky she named you after Eurydice instead.” Peter grumbled and you laughed easily.

“He wasn’t an idiot. He could see the world for how it could be, in spite of the way that is was. He just couldn’t wait to see his wife.” You said softly, still taking Orpheus’s defense.

“I bet I could do it. I could’ve gotten us both out.” Peter said definitively after a beat of silence.

“Oh, yeah? You think you could be patient and trust your girl?” You challenged him.

“If I truly loved her, yes. I’d wait forever if I had too.” Peter said confidently. “Wouldn’t you?”

You thought about it for a moment, not blind to the irony of his question. You looked Peter deep in his warm brown eyes, the eyes of your best friend since you were little, and nodded.

“Yeah. I think I would.” You said softly.

1 month ago

“What about you? You haven’t move on?” A member of Cap’s support group sounded from beside you, tearing you away from the memory. You blinked as you came back to reality and saw the faces of the rest of the members looking at you expectantly, including Cap.

“Sorry?” You asked, not having heard the question when you were lost in your daydream.

“You mentioned in the first meeting that you lost your boyfriend in the Blip.” The member, a man who lost his wife and daughter, repeated. “Have you moved on from him yet?”

“No.” You said, sitting up and fixing your shirt. “No, I haven’t.”

“Why is that after five years of him being gone? You’re the only one in the group who hasn’t moved on.” He asked. He wasn’t being reproachful, just curious. You and Cap were the leaders of the group and watched each week as the members slowly got their lives back to normal after losing their significant other in the Blip. It hadn’t even occurred to you that you were the only one who hadn’t moved on.

“Because I’ve already met the love of my life.” You said confidently. “I know it’s been 5 years. But I have already met the man I’m supposed to be with. Now I just have to wait for him to come come. He waited for me, and now I’m waiting for him.”

“He might not come for a long time, if he ever does.” A woman in the group spoke up. She wasn’t trying to be harsh, just realistic. You gave her a tight smile and nodded.

“I know.” You said. “But that doesn’t matter to me. I’ll wait forever if I have too.”

The meeting ended shortly after a few more members told their stories. It was nearing the anniversary of the Blip, and everyone was on edge. You were quiet as you and Cap stacked the chairs up, obviously to his stare.

“What did you mean back there when you said he waited for you?” Steve asked gently as he pushed a row of chairs against the wall. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, suddenly aware of how long it had gotten, and leaned against the row.

“It’s kinda a long story.” You told him. He took two chairs off the stack and set them down, gesturing for you to take a seat.

“I have time.” He remarked as he took a seat. You laughed lightly as his action and sat down, picking nervously at your nail polish.

“I met Peter when we were 3, and we were best friends almost instantly.” You began. “We learned how to ride bikes together, started school together, basically made all our foundational memories together.”

“Okay.” Steve nodded, urging you to go on.

“My dad did a lot of business in California when I was little and when he got promoted, he decided to move there. My parents didn’t tell me about the move until the day we were leaving. I was crying my eyes out in the taxi when we passed Peter’s apartment building.” You said, looking up at Steve to see his reaction. He was looking at you intently, having never heard you tell the story before. “I pressed my hands against the window of the taxi and stared at his building, totally heartbroken, until an idea came to me. Mind you, I was 7 at the time and had a love of action movies.”

“You didn’t.” He smiled coyly, knowing what was coming.

“I did.” You chuckled. “I jumped out of the moving car and just booked it. I didn’t stop running until I got to his door.”

15 years ago

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” Peter asked as he opened his door to you. You had done your secret knock so he knew it was you.

“I have to go, Peter. I’m moving. My daddy got a new job.” You panted, out of breath from running. Peters eyes widened, hearing the world possible news of his short life.

“Moving? Where?” He asked, suddenly aware of your red eyes and running nose, all signs that you had been crying.

“California.” You told him.

“Like with the movie stars?” He asked, childlike excitement replacing the pain.

“Yeah. That’s what my daddy said.” You nodded, remembering what your dad had told you to keep you from crying. You had to leave your best friend, but you’d be with the movie stars.

“When are you leaving?” Peter asked, picking at the paint on his door.

“Today.” You finally caught your breath. “We’re going to the airport right now.”

“But…but I won’t get to see you if you’re in California.” Peter mumbled, starting to get emotional.

“I know. I don’t want to go, Peter.” You shook your head, beginning to cry again.

“Then don’t go.” Peter protested. “You can stay here with me. Aunt May and Uncle Ben won’t mind.“

“Okay. Okay, and then we can stay together.” You agreed, liking his plan.

“Y/n?” Are you up here?” You suddenly heard your mothers voice and your eyes widened, as well as Peters.

“Get inside.” Peter pulled you in his apartment and slammed the door behind you, reaching up on his tippy toes to lock the door. You both panted from the quick move, the sound of the phone ringing get drowned out by your heavy breathing.

“I don’t want to leave you, Peter. You’re my best friend.” You cried, bunching the end of your dress in your fists.

“You’re my best friend too.” Peter hiccuped as he cried. You wiped your cheek on the back of your hand and used the bottom of your dress to wipe his face too. He smiled at you, giving you that warm feeling he always did.

“Please don’t fall in love with anybody else.” You blurted. “Wait for me to come back.”

“What?” Peter hiccuped again.

“I’m gonna grow up and I’m gonna make my own money and I’m gonna find my way back to you. Or, or I’ll run away and get on an airplane.” You plotted as Peter nodded along. “I’m gonna come back for you, Peter. I will, I promise I will. You just need to wait until I get back so we can get married.”

“Peter? Is Y/n here?” Mays voice called from the kitchen, making you both jump. You hugged each other and backed away as May came into the room.

“Go away!” Peter screamed, fully in hysterics now.

“Y/n, sweetie, your mom is on the phone. She said you ran away from the taxi.” May said gently as she bent down to talk to you. She noticed your scrapped knee, bleeding now, but you didn’t even seem to notice.

“I’m not going. I’m not leaving Peter.” You stated, clinging to him tighter.

“What’s going on here?” Ben asked when he heard the noise. He saw his recently orphaned nephew clutching his best friend and immediately understood.

“I can’t go to California. I won’t! I won’t leave Peter.” You cried, gripping the back of Peters overalls for supports.

“Aw, honey.” May sighed in sympathy as she out a hand over her heart at the sight of the terrified children. “It’s okay. You and Peter can write each other letters and video chat. You’ll still be able to see each other.”

“No! She has to move in with us.” Peter shot down Mays idea. Her heart broke for her nephew, already having witnessed him lose so much. The flowers from his parents were still on the table. She couldn’t bear to see him lose his best friend too.

“She can’t Peter. She has to be with her own mommy and daddy.” May tried to reason with him.

“Why? I’m not with mine.” Peter protested, making May tear up. Before she could respond, your mother knocked on the door.

“May? Ben? Is Y/n with you?” Your mother asked through the door. You and Peter began to tremble as you clung to each other.

“No!” You screamed, cowering into the crook of Peters neck.

“Ben, can you settle them down?” May asked as she went to open the door. You and Peter tried to run but Ben caught you.

“Now listen you two, if you really love each other and I know you do, you’ll find your way back.” Ben said prophetically, making you and Peter release your grip a little. “I met your Aunt May once when I was 7, and again when I was 17. I believe in you two. I believe you’ll be reunited one day. But for right now, Y/n has to say goodbye.”

You slowly let go of Peter and turned to face him, tears streaming down your young face.

“Goodbye, Peter.” You mumbled, dry heaving from how upset you were. Your mother and May exchanged glances, not being able to watch their children say goodbye.

“Goodbye, Y/n.” Peter whimpered, wrapping his arms around you and giving you the tightest hug he could.

“Wait for me?” You whispered in his ear.

“I will.” He whispered back.

“Promise?” You asked as you pulled away.

“Promise.” Peter said as he crossed his heart. You did the same before your mother took your hand. You cried as she dragged you out of the apartment, looking back and reaching for Peter the entire way. You broke free from her for a moment and ran to Peter, kissing him on the lips like you’d seen the movies stars do. His eyes were wide open the entire time, but he liked it. Your mother scooped you up, said goodbye to May and Ben, and left the apartment. May and Ben stared at Peter as he touched his lips, still feeling your kiss. He sniffled, trying not to cry again as he watched his best friend leave him for the next ten years.

1 month ago.

“So, yeah. That was the first time he and I were separated. I don’t know which time was worse. They both killed me, just with different weapons. At least when we were 7, I was able to say goodbye.” You shrugged it off as you finished telling Steve your story. He stared at you in awe as you kept your composure. He had listened to a hundred songs stories about losing a loved one, but none of them had moved him like that did.

“How did you guys reconnect? Did you actually run away?” Steve asked, fully invested in the story now. You chuckled softly as his keen memory.

“No. I tried to but I never got very far.” You told him. “I ended up moving back to New York for college. My friend and I rented an apartment instead of living on campus.”

6 years ago.

“Shoot. I’ll meet you up there. I forgot a bag in the lobby.” Your roommate sighed when she realized she was missing her carry on.

“Okay. Text me when you get it.” You told her. Instead of getting on the elevator, you decided to stretch your legs and take the stairs. You had lugged your suitcase up a long flight and were about to round the corner when you smacked into someone. You almost went flying down the stairs, but something grabbed your shirt, something you’d later find out was a web, and sent you in the other direction. You collided with the stranger, feeling their firm grasp around your waist to keep you from falling back. You both panted as you caught your breath, feeling the strangers breath fam your face.

“I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking and-Y/n?” The man asked. You blinked a few times as you stared at his face until you realized you knew those brown eyes.

“Oh my God, Peter?” You whispered as your eyes scanned his face, memorizing every new line and crease. His eyes were just as wide as yours, studying your features right back. An unfamiliar feeling filled your tummy as you stared at your childhood best friend, now fully grown. You couldn’t find the words to express how you were feeling, so you let go of your suitcase and wrapped your arms around his neck. Peter hugged you back immediately, taking in your scent. You were wearing perfume, something you hadn’t done when you were seven, but his super scent allowed him to smell your usual smell underneath it. Hugging you now felt different than it had when you were younger. His arms were wrapped around your hips, something you definitely didn’t have before. Your forever messy hair was longer and neat for once, as he was always used to seeing it in two braids. He could’ve cried holding you, but he didn’t want to scare you off. You pulled away and cupped his cheeks, smiling at what you saw.

“You look exactly the same.” You let out a breathy laugh. He did. He still had the boyish features you loved. The only difference now was he was taller and incredibly fit.

“Is that a good thing?” He chuckled, pleased to see your smile was just as he remembered.

“It’s the best thing.” You nodded, looking him up and down. “I can’t believe you never grew into your ears.”

“And you! You finally learned to brush your hair.” He dished it right back and you realized how much you missed his sense of humor, even better now with age.

“Shut up.” You scrunched your nose and smoothed your hand down with your hair. “What are you doing here? Did you move?”

“You remember my old place?” He raised his eyebrows, suddenly aware that his was still holding on to you. It didn’t seem to bother you, so he didn’t move.

“Uhh, Lee Towers apartment building, room 4D with the little flower sign under the peephole.” You recited, the view of his apartment door forever engraved in your no memory. The door always looked so big when you went from your height. “How could I forget? I practically lived there.”

“I know you did.” Peter smiled brightly at the memory of all your days spent in his apartment, the apartment he said goodbye too once Ben died. “May and I moved here a few months after high school started for a fresh start.”

“And I just moved here for college.” You said, mostly to yourself as the wheels in your Brian turned. You looked at Peter fondly and a smile tugged at your lips. “Your Uncle was right.”

“What do you mean?” He furrowed his eyebrows as you his face flushed from your close proximity.

“We found our way back to each other.” You said softly, your breath ticking his face.

“Yeah. I guess we did.” He bit back a smile, still reeling that he had you back in his arms after 10 years.

“Come on. You can tell me everything that’s happened for the past ten years while you help me unpack.” You grabbed his suitcase with one hand and his arm with the other. “But first, I gotta see May.”

1 month ago

“We talked the entire day. The sun started coming up and I was still telling him stories.” You smiled to yourself as you remembered the reunion. “We bounced back so easily, I felt like I had never left.”

“When two people are that right for each other, time has no effect. I speak from experience.” Steve smirked, a knowing gleam in his eyes.

“I know you do, lover boy.” You teased him. “I’ve seen your lady. She’s absolutely gorgeous.” You commented, having seen the photo of Peggy he kept on him more than a few times.

“She was.” He agreed. “And I found her just as pretty as an old broad as I did when we first met. Time meant nothing to me.”

“See? Sometimes, moving on is the wrong way to go. Some people are worth waiting for.” You decided, happy to have someone who agreed with you.

“So what happened next? Did you guys fall in love right away?” Steve asked, curious in the ending.

“No. It took about 3 months for us to finally bring up that conversation from before I left. We focused on rebuilding our friendship first.” You explained.

“I tell ya, I haven’t been this invested in a story since my presumedly dead best friend from the war showed up with a metal arm and a bloodlust.” Steve chuckled. “Keep going. How did you get together?”

“Relax. I’ll tell you.” You chuckled easily. “He and I had just got home from a college party. There was drinking, but Peter and I stayed away from that. A boy in our biology class, however, did not. He was flirting with me a little too much for Peters liking. I didn’t flirt back, but that didn’t matter to Peter. Another boy was after me and he got upset.”

5 years ago

“Whew. I don’t know about you, but think I’ve hit my party limit for the next month.” You blew out a breath as you kicked your heels off into the corner of Peters rooms

“No, me too.” Peter agreed, admiring the way you looked in your party dress one last time before you changed out of it. You shut the door to his bathroom but left it slightly ajar as you changed behind it. Peter made sure not to look, happy that you couldn’t see the flush on his face. You emerged from the bathroom in a hoodie and sleep shorts, taking a seat on Peters bed.

“You’re quiet.” You poked him, tilted your head to meet his eyes. “What’s up?”

“Nothing.” He shook his head and took your feet into his lap to rub them, knowing they were aching from your high heels. “Did you uh, get Brads number?”

“He told me his number but there were letters and some movie titles in it, so I’d say no.” You laughed, wincing a little when he touched a sore spot.

“He was all over you.” Peter grumbled, moving your feet next to his lap so he could trace small patterns on your leg.

“He was also drunk on 5 Black Cherry White Claws and wearing his belt on his head.” You reminded him in an attempt to cheer him up. He was clearly upset over something, you could tell by the way he wouldn’t look at you.

“He’s on the soccer team.” Peter brought up and you looked at him strangely. “I heard he gets good grade too.”

“Are you trying to set us up or something?” You laughed him off as you pulled your knees up to your chest to lean your chin on them.

“No. No, I just…” ,he sighed, “do you like him? In that way, I mean?”

“Peter, I don’t even know him.” You dismissed the idea. “Plus, he made a total fool of himself tonight. He threw any chance he had with me away the second he opened his mouth to show me his Viking impression.”

“Do you like anyone else, then?” He asked with a shrug, slowly looking up at you.

“Why are you asking me this?” You asked him curiously. You never talked about things like this together, lest it lead to a conversation neither of you were ready for.

“I’ve just been thinking a lot lately.” Peter admitted, looking down at his hands nervously. “Do…do you remember the last thing we talked about? Before you left, I mean.”

“When I asked you to wait for me?” You laughed softly, noticing the tips of his ears turning pink.

“Yeah, that.” He gulped.

“Of course I do.” You shrugged like to were not big deal, even though it was the biggest deal to Peter. “To this day, that’s the boldest thing I’ve ever done. Kissing you and then running away? I pulled a real Cinderella on you that night.”

“I thought it was sweet.” Peter defended, slightly offended that you were taking the situation as lightly as you were.

“It was stupid. We were kids and we had no idea when we were gonna see each other again. At the time, I had no idea how unrealistic I was being, or how much I was asking of you. Didn’t I propose to you or something?” You cringed at the memory. Peter stared at you in shock, angry that you were making fun of one of the most momentous moments of his childhood.

“I didn’t think you were asking for that much.” He said assertively. “Nothing I wasn’t planning on doing anyway.”

“What were you planning on doing?” You asked, finally noticing how upset he was.

“Waiting for my best friend to come back so I could be with her.” Peter said, tears stinging his eyes as he tried to compose himself. “Marry her, even.”

“Shut up.” You shoved him playfully, but he didn’t let up. Your smile faded when you realized he was serious.

“Why are you making this a joke?” Peter asked bitterly. “Do you know how hard that day was for me?”

“Do I know how hard it was?” You repeated in shock. “Peter, I had to leave my home and get on a plane to live in an entirely new state that I had never been to before, all with no warning. My mother had to rip me out of your grasp while I kicked and screamed. I know exactly how hard that day was.”

You turned away from Peter and folded your arms, glaring at his wall while hot tears streamed down your face. You had been trying to avoid this conversation in fear of how it would go. Fear he didn’t wait after all when you had turned down every boy who approached you in the past ten years because they didn’t amount to Peter. The fears were feeling very real in the moment and it overwhelmed you.

“Why did you kiss me?” He asked quietly. You looked at him over your shoulder and saw that he was crying too.

“Something inside me just told me I had to.” You shrugged slightly. “I had to give you something to make sure you wouldn’t forget me.”

“I could never forget you.” Peter said assuredly. “You don’t forget your first love.”

“I guess you don’t, do you?” You smiled softly and wiped your tears on your hoodie sleeve. “I loved you before I knew the meaning of the word. But I didn’t really need the meaning, looking back. The feeling was enough. Feelings for you.” You looked at him shyly. “Feelings that told me I needed to kiss you before I lost the chance. I guess that’s what happens when you’re 7 and in love with your best friend.”

“Well, I’m 18 and in love with my best friend. What happens then?” Peter declared, tired of beating around the bush. You turned to him and tugged your sleeves over your hands.

“Peter, what?” You whispered.

“That kiss you gave me was my first kiss.” He admitted.

“Mine too.” You said simply.

“It was also my last kiss.” He continued. You opened your mouth and shut it, taking on the weight of what he was saying.

“Mine too.” You breathed. You and Peter stared at each other, looking at the face of the best friend you’d fallen in love with, the one you’d always been in love with. You swallowed as you prepared to ask Peter the answer to a question you asked him when you were 7. “Did you-“

Peter cut you off by pressing his lips to yours, holding your face in place with his hands. You put your hand on the back of his neck and kissed him back, feeling a tear fall down your cheek as all your fears dissipated. Peter pulled away and rested his forehead against yours.

“Yes.” He mumbled against your lips. “I waited.”

1 month ago

“That’s how it started. We were only together about 9 months before he disappeared.” You told Steve. “You know, I still go home every night and hope he knocks on my door. I always expect him to burst through the door, his flannel flowing behind him like a cape and just pick me up and kiss me. He’d thank me for waiting and I’d tell him it was nothing, that I was happy to do it, because he was worth it.”

“You know, I used to think you were stubborn. But I get it now.” Steve looked at you fondly. “That’s a love worth waiting your entire life for. What I don’t understand is how you sat in that chair for 5 years and never told us that story. Why wouldn’t you say something?”

“Because it’s ours, and it’s all I have left of him.” You smiled sadly. “I don’t want to share it and make people sad, because it’s not a sad story. To me, it’s the greatest love story of all time.”

“We’re gonna get them back. One way or another, we’re gonna fix this. I promise you, I’ll do everything in my power to reunite you guys.” Steve said definitively.

“Why?” You asked him.

“Because I don’t want your story to end like that. You’re 23. I can’t sit back and watch you sit on the bench for the rest of your life, waiting for somebody to come home. I’m gonna bring him home. All of them.” Steve declared.

“How?” You asked. It had been 5 years already and no progress was made to get them back.

“I have a friend I need to talk to. You’re coming with me. Come on.” He stood up and held his hand out. You looked him up and down before smirking and taking his hand.

Present Day

Since you helped bring the Avengers together to set the Time Heist in motion, Tony decided it was only fair to let you help out in the final battle with Thanos. He leant you an Iron suit that you were currently using against a slew of space dogs. The more you fought off, the more came to attack you. It didn’t help that your heart was beating out of your chest knowing that Peter was somewhere on the battle field. You didn’t know how long you had been fighting, but your arms ached with every movement. You sucked in a sharp breath as a space dog lunged at your uncovered face.

You were about to cover your face when you felt something attach to your suit from the back. Before you could react, you felt a tug and flew through the air. You landed in somebody’s arms and saw the battlefield upside down as they dipped you, just like in the movies. They brought you back up and you were suddenly face to face with Peter Parker.

“Is my damsel in distress?” His Queens accent filled your ears as your eyes fell on his smirk.

“Peter?” You said breathlessly, eyes filling with tears at the sight of your boyfriend who you hadn’t seen in 5 years.

“I think so, unless my dust particles reconfigured into Zooey Dechannel.” Peter said sarcastically, making you erupt in laughter as the tears fell down your face.

“Peter!” You squealed, throwing your arms around him and hugging him as tight as you could. His new metal suit made it different, so you restarted to running your hands through his hair, trying to touch any part of his skin that you could reach. In the distance, Steve saw the two of you embracing and smiled to himself.

“Hi.” He laughed in your ear, appreciating all the affection. In his mind, he had seen you just a few hours ago. He didn’t register how much this meant to you. You buried your face in his neck and took in his scent.

“You smell like a new car.” You laughed in happy surprise, looking him up and down to take in his appearance. He looked exactly as you remembered, every freckle and hair in the same place.

“It’s the suit. Mr. Stark made it for me.” Peter said excitedly.

“Its beautiful.” You breathed, not taking your eyes off his face.

“Thank you! I haven’t actually seen it yet but it feels really cool.” Peter said as he looked at his hands. He was obviously to the moonstruck look you were giving him, just happy to be near him. “Mr. Stark got really mad at me because I snuck on the spaceship after he specifically told me not to sneak on the spaceship but it was a good thing because I helped get rid of the bad guys using the technique we saw in Alien.”

“Wow.” You nodded, just happy to be hearing his voice again.

“And the bad guy was like this half squid, half person who spoke with a British accent even though he’s from space.” Peter went on, childlike excitement filling in the brown eyes you’d been missing for the past 5 years. “Y/n, I don’t mean to overwhelm you, but I’m pretty sure there’s a second Britain in space that we don’t know about.”

“Really?” You humored him, tears of happiness still rolling down your face.

“It was so cool, Y/n. Until I died, anyway.” He laughed. “I wish you could’ve been there.”

“I wish that too.” You cried. “I’ve really missed you, Peter.”

“I’ve missed you too.” He smiled brightly. Your lip began to tremble at how I overwhelmed you were and Peters protective boyfriend instincts took over.

“Hey.” He took your chin between his fingers and tilted your face up. “Listen, I know it’s been five years for you and I’m a fool to even ask. But, by any chance, did you-“

You put your hand on the back of his head and pulled him into a kiss. The feeling of his lips on yours after all those years triggered a waterfall of tears to flow. You wrapped both arms around his neck as he held your waist firmly against his, kissing you as hard as he could. You sobbed into the kiss before pulling away, peppering kisses all around his mouth and jaw.

“Yes.” You smiled as he wiped away your tears. “I waited.”

Tag List 🏷

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[ifmywishescametrue]

and bc i have no self control. #41 kisses to shut them up for rhodeytony

So this one spiraled so quickly, because I also have no self control! And now it’s a 3.4k words of 5+1 for Rhodey and Tony’s first kisses together. Hope you like it :)

The first time is something of a joke. Tony is doing that rambling thing like always, hands moving around rapidly and coming dangerously close to smacking passersby in the face. He gets more than a few dirty looks for it, but he doesn’t seem to be noticing. Rhodey isn’t even sure what he’s ranting about anymore. Maybe one of his professors, or that annoying guy in his physics class. All he does know is that he wants to get to the cafeteria before they run out of pizza and Tony walks slow when he’s talking. So Rhodey grabs him by the wrist when his hand flies in front of him again, spinning him around and planting his lips firmly against Tony’s for just a moment. It does the job of stunning him into silence, but it also makes him freeze completely on the sidewalk. Rhodey keeps walking, and Tony has to run to catch back up. 

“What was that for?” Tony asks, eyes wide. 

Rhodey shrugs, “Had to shut you up somehow.”

Tony makes an offended squawking sound, hitting Rhodey with the too long sleeve of his sweatshirt. Rhodey’s sweatshirt, technically. 

“That’s rude,” Tony says. “You’re getting me ice cream to make it up to me.”

Rhodey laughs, slinging his arm over Tony’s shoulders to pull him along. “Whatever you want, Tones.”

______________

If the first was a joke, the second is just the repeat performance. Between Rhodey’s basic training and Tony’s recent and sudden rise to CEO, it’s been almost three months since the last time they’ve seen each other. Basic has him questioning everything and feeling like a bit of failure. He should have been able to handle it better. The homesickness, the pressure, the constant grind of work. It’s been the dream for so long that he doesn’t know what to do with the feeling he has now. 

“Maybe I should quit.”

Tony snorts inelegantly, “Pretty sure that’s called deserting and it’s a crime.”

“So I’ll go on the run,” Rhodey argues, like it’s a perfectly reasonable response. “I’ll move to Tahiti or Fiji or one of those other islands. Wait, you have a private island, right? I could go there, and if anyone comes for me, I’ll just take a rowboat out to sea, and they won’t have any jurisdiction on the water to arrest me. I’m pretty sure that’s a thing. Right? It’s -”

Tony’s lips are a little sticky from the beer he’s been drinking, and his hands are warm where they cup Rhodey’s cheeks. He doesn’t understand what’s happening or why, and at first he can’t think enough to react. When he can think again he can’t decide whether to push him off or kiss him back, and he still hasn’t reached a conclusion when Tony pulls away. He doesn’t know if it lasted two seconds or two minutes, and it’s confusing to realize that he isn’t sure which he would prefer. 

“Wow, that is effective,” Tony grins. “Thought maybe it was just me it works on, but I should try that on board members sometime if it’s that good.”

Rhodey gapes at him when he connects the pieces. “Seriously, Tony? That happened two years ago, and I’m in the middle of a crisis right now.”

"No, you were spiralling and now you’re not," Tony says simply. "Situation resolved by not talking about it."

"That's not how that works."

"Of course it is. How do you think most fires get put out? By putting a lid on them until they die."

"Alright, ignoring that that's not even true, what the hell does it even mean?" 

"It's very true, and what it means is that I have put a lid on this irrational fire, so it doesn't have the chance to spread and ignite the rest of your life. Containment, honeybear. It's about containment."

"That's a terrible analogy," Rhodey says, and Tony tosses his hands in the air. 

"What do you want from me on the spot?" 

They spend most of the night trying to come up with something better, laughing and drinking the rest of the beer in Tony's fridge, until Rhodey forgets that he was ever stressed in the first place.

______________

Their third kiss is an accident. It happens somewhere in between Rhodey deciding that he hates Tony's new boyfriend and him realizing exactly why that is. 

He comes back from six months overseas, and it's a few days ahead of what he was expecting. He told Tony Thursday, but his plane touches down in California on Tuesday morning, and he gives the taxi driver Tony's address without a second thought. Tony likes surprises, and he has no reason to think this might be a bad one. 

He uses his key to let himself in, fully knowing that Tony won't be awake yet to answer the door. The first traces of sun are just starting to filter in through the windows, and Rhodey sets his duffle bag down near the door before moving into the kitchen. Tony's refrigerator is nearly barren, but there are a few eggs and a green pepper that would be rotten by tomorrow that he can make due with. He finds an onion, too, and falls into a rhythm while dicing vegetables. 

It's this kind of thing that he misses when he's away. He misses having a kitchen and making what he wants in it, even if this isn't his kitchen or his first choice of food. But he misses the simplicity of it all. Life on the base seems alternate between too fast and too slow, but this is all his own pace. 

He hears footsteps on the stairs a little after the eggs hit the pan, and he glances over his shoulder to watch Tony shuffle into the room while rubbing his tired eyes. If he had stayed turned around a little longer, their third kiss wouldn't have happened at all. By the time Tony opens his eyes, Rhodey's back is to him again. 

Instead of instantly reacting, Tony slowly wanders over and puts his hand on Rhodey's shoulder. The words are mumbled when he says, "You're up way too early," and Rhodey doesn't have time to process how strange the sentence is, because he's being kissed the second his head turns. Not the shut up kind of kiss or even that sort of friendly peck he's seen people do sometimes. It's the kind where Tony's tongue is slipping between his lips, and his hand is wandering lower. The kind that friends don't share, but lovers definitely do. 

Rhodey falls into it without question. 

The spatula clatters to the floor from his hand, and Tony laughs into the kiss before pulling back. There's a grin and a joke on his lips that's quickly replaced by dawning horror. 

"Rhodey?" Tony squeaks out. His hand flies up to cover his mouth, and through it Rhodey hears, "Oh, shit." He looks down at the complete lack of space between their bodies, dropping the hand to raise them both in front of himself like a defense as he backs away a couple of steps. "Fuck, I'm so fucking sorry. I thought - you weren't supposed to be here yet. Thursday. That's - you said Thursday. Didn't you?" 

It's like ice water with how quickly the warmth of that kiss leaves his body. 

Rhodey raises an eyebrow and plays at unaffected. "I did, yeah. Seems like you should attack an intruder instead of kissing them, though." 

Tony's cheeks turn a vibrant shade of red, and he runs a still shaky hand through his hair.

"I thought you were someone else," he sheepishly admits. "It's just that from behind you, um, well you look a lot like Ryan, and he wasn't in bed still when I got up, so I came down here, and, uh, I guess you know the rest of that story." 

Ryan, Rhodey's mind bitterly repeats. The guy Tony's spent the last three months talking about on the phone and in his letters. It's always about him in some way.  He told me the funniest story yesterday, Rhodey or Isn't he so romantic, platypus? But Tony seems happy, so he fakes a laugh at a story that definitely isn't funny retold and agrees that string quartets are romantic instead of horribly cliché. He helps him plan dates when it's Tony's turn, because apparently that's yet another adorable thing they do together. 

He just barely suppresses the sigh before saying, "Don't worry about it, Tones. It's all good."

Tony looks relieved, and after an awkward minute or two they fall back into their normal conversation like it never happened. They talk about the missions Rhodey has flown for and the designs Tony has been working on between bites of burned eggs and coffee. 

Neither of them ever mention that Rhodey kissed him back. 

______________

Tony and Rhodey are both drunk for the fourth. The music is loud at the club, and the air is a smoky haze. It's someone's birthday, he thinks, but he can't really remember anymore by the fifth shot of tequila. 

He leans back against the bar on his elbows, watching in drunken amusement while Tony tries to put the moves on someone to hold up his end of the bet. The guy looks like he isn’t quite sure what’s happening, and Rhodey laughs into the rim of his glass. All he needs is one kiss, and Rhodey will be out the contents of his wallet. He isn't even sure what those contents are, and Tony wouldn't let him check before the handshake. It could be anywhere from a nickel to fifty bucks, he figures, which is worth it to watch this complete trainwreck. 

It takes another ten minutes of flirting before Tony finally gives up and comes back over to the bar. 

“Loser,” Rhodey teases. “What happened to having ‘game so good a straight man would fall to his knees?’”

Tony flips him off and steals the glass from his hand. “He has a girlfriend, which is the only reason it didn’t happen.”

“He didn’t even realize that you were flirting with him, did he?” Rhodey laughs, and Tony pouts pitifully. 

“The no touching rule wasn’t fair.”

“A good bet doesn’t involve actual harassment,” Rhodey reasons, just like he did earlier in the night. “If you can’t get them to kiss you by flirting with just words, they wouldn’t want you touching them in the first place. It’s called consent.”

Tony rolls his eyes, “I do not need to be taught about consent. I am the king of consent. Enthusiastic, resounding consent, even.” He pauses, and there’s a dangerous look in his eyes when he narrows them at Rhodey. “Okay, I know that this about to go against everything I just said, but it’s you, and we don’t have rules, right?”

“What?”

“Just say yes.”

“Yes to what?”

Tony leans in with enough time that if Rhodey really wanted to, he could pull away. He could put his hand over Tony’s mouth or step to the side or simply tell him no and Tony wouldn’t do it. 

But he doesn’t do any of those things. 

He lets Tony cup the back of his neck to tilt his head to the right angle, and he threads his hand into Tony’s hair in return. His lips taste like the vodka and cranberry juice from the stolen glass, until Rhodey has kissed him so thoroughly that he can’t taste it anymore. 

“There,” Tony says, grinning proudly like he’s just done something exceptionally smart. His breath is coming quickly, and Rhodey’s head is spinning with the thought that he’s the one that did that to him. “I got a straight man to kiss me. Pay up.”

Rhodey laughs, full-bodied with his head tilted back. “No, man. You definitely didn’t.”

Tony’s still a little too drunk to fully understand what he means by that, and he takes it as if Rhodey’s saying that he stole the kiss, rather than earned it. He spends most of the night after that trying to get him to kiss him again on his own accord, but Rhodey doesn’t want another one like that. He wants Tony’s soft-eyed gaze on him, and his body held tight in his arms. He wants to hear him say the same words he’s saying right now, but to have him actually mean it when he says the word please. Like he won’t be able to live for another second without Rhodey’s lips on his. 

He doesn’t want the joke anymore, but he knows he won’t ever get to have the real thing. 

______________

Rhodey is half asleep for kiss number five, and he isn’t even quite sure that it actually happens. He’s lying in a hospital bed somewhere in Germany, he thinks, and machines are beeping all around him. He can’t really remember what brought him here as he drifts in and out. There was some kind of fight - that much is obvious. He sees flashes of bullets in the sky, flames, and a rapidly plummeting altitude reading. Was it a mission gone wrong? An attack they weren’t expecting? One of the machines ticks a little faster when he tries to clear his head enough to think about it, and then darkness takes over again. 

When he partially wakes the next time, there’s something warm and solid in his hand. It shifts a little, brushing lightly in circles over his skin, and it takes him a longer amount of time than it should to realize that it’s another hand. But when he does, he knows without a doubt who it belongs to, and the thought sends him back into sleep with a warm feeling in his chest. 

He finds out later that he was unconscious for three days, and Tony hardly leaves his side for a minute of it. Rhodey doesn’t want to say how that makes him feel, so he falls back on what he does know how to say. 

“You should really at least go back to the hotel to take a shower. You’re starting to smell, man,” he says after the doctor leaves the room. 

Tony gives him a weak laugh, running his hand through his hair and grimacing at the oily texture. "Maybe in a little bit. You just woke up."

Rhodey shifts against the pillows, tilting his head to get a good look at him. His clothes might be the same ones he showed up here in, all wrinkled with a coffee stain on one of his sleeves. The circles under his eyes are darker than he's ever quite seen them before, and he looks too pale. 

Tony isn't supposed to look like that. 

He's supposed to be sunlight embodied, all tanned skin and bright eyes and fluid motion. But this Tony is slumped over in his chair, small and fragile looking like the wrong word could destroy him completely. This Tony offers him a brave face and a delicate smile that doesn't reach his eyes, and Rhodey can't stand it. Can't stand that it's his own fault he looks like that. 

Stretching his arm out, he turns over his hand to open his palm. The movement tugs at his injured shoulder, but he grits his teeth to hide the pain and it's worth it to have Tony's hand back in his where it belongs. He squeezes gently, and Tony squeezes back. 

"You almost died," Tony whispers. "You're not allowed to die."

"I won't do it again," Rhodey says, even though they both know he can't make that promise. 

Tony nods, and for now that can be enough. He switches the topic to something else so they don't have to talk about it anymore. So Tony doesn't have to say what the last three days felt like, and Rhodey doesn't have to admit that his last thought before the plane went down was regret that he'd never get to have this again. 

Tony makes him laugh until his battered ribs are aching with it, until they've talked about everything and nothing and sleep is pulling at Rhodey again. It's hard to keep his eyes open, and he fights it until he can't any longer. 

A hand runs over his hair, and down the side of his face to linger on his cheek. Rhodey leans into the touch with closed eyes as Tony murmurs, "I'll come back tomorrow. Don't you dare do anything stupid like dying while I'm gone."

He feels the warmth of Tony's breath on his skin the moment before Tony kisses him. It's a barely there, wisp of a thing, right on the corner of his mouth. There one instant, then gone the next. It's the last thing he feels before slipping into sleep again. 

______________

“I’m so old,” Tony groans, flopping down on the beach chair next to Rhodey’s. “Ancient. Decrepit. On death’s door.”

“You’re thirty,” Rhodey says, and he laughs at the pout on Tony’s face. “I’m a year older than you. What does that make me then?”

“A senior citizen, just like me.”

Rhodey lifts his beer from where the bottle was balancing in the sand and clinks it with the bottle in Tony’s hand. “Welcome to the club then. We’re happy to have you.”

Tony kicks off his shoes and tucks his feet under his thighs as he settles back in the chair. It’s quiet out here on the beach, away from the crowds and noise from the party. The crashing of the waves and the distant thrum of music are the only sounds, and they watch the water in the still of the night for a while. 

“Don’t you want to get back to the party?” Rhodey asks softly, unwilling to break their bubble of peace. “It’s for you.”

Tony shakes his head. “I like it better out here.”

“Want me to kick everyone out for you?”

Tony looks over his shoulder at the house, filled to the brim and lights flashing from every window. He leans over the inch between their chairs and rests his head on Rhodey’s shoulder. “No, they can have their fun in there, and I can have mine here.”

Rhodey cards his hand through Tony’s hair, feeling warm despite the cool breeze. “This is fun for you, huh? Sitting in silence?”

“It’s always good with you,” Tony murmurs, so quiet that Rhodey almost loses it to the ocean. He’ll always be thankful that he didn’t. 

He lets his hand go lower, slipping from his hair to run his thumb along Tony’s jaw, and it would be so easy, he thinks, to kiss him right now. To tilt Tony’s chin up and turn his head to the side just a little. To brush their lips together, slowly at first, then steadily growing more desperate as he gives in to everything he’s wanted for so long. He thinks of the way Tony would sound, if he would sigh or moan or whimper under his mouth. Tony would be sticky sweet from the buttercream on the cupcakes from earlier, and Rhodey would taste sugar on his tongue. 

“Rhodey,” Tony whispers, looking up at him. The moon is reflected in the deep brown of his eyes, and Rhodey wants to keep this image of him in him in his mind forever. “Can I tell you what I wished for?”

“Won’t come true if you do,” Rhodey whispers back. 

“I think it’s the only way it might,” Tony answers, and he seems even closer than he was before. 

“What did you wish for?”

Tony’s cheeks are flushed, and Rhodey thinks for a moment that he’s going to lose his nerve to say whatever it is. He’s ready for the joke instead, but it never comes. 

“For you to kiss me,” Tony says with an unsteady breath. “For it to mean something when you do.”

Rhodey slides his hand a little higher, and he strokes across Tony’s cheekbone. He doesn’t miss the way that Tony’s eyes flicker down to his lips. “And what do you want it to mean?”

“Everything.”

“Everything,” Rhodey repeats, and Tony smiles, soft and unsure. “I think I can manage that.”

______________

Years later, Tony still likes to tease Rhodey about their first kiss, except now it's become their thing. The interrupted sentences sometimes get finished after and sometimes don't because kissing Tony is more important than whatever it was that he had to say in the first place. 

He loses count of what number they’re on. One thousand or one million, it could never be enough. They have all kinds of kisses now. Early morning, sleep-hazed kisses, and quick, little pecks on the way out the door. Good night kisses that turn passionate and desperate as often as they stay innocent and sweet. Reluctant ones when Tony is mad at him for something silly, lingering ones in apology. 

Each one still means everything.

[refinedbuffoonery]

Looking Through A Window (5)

macriley married undercover au

masterlist.

Admittedly, this is kind of a filler/transition chapter, but I have big plans for this story, and I’m really excited for y’all to read what happens next. Expect an update every weekend this month! 

*****

The nightmare sinks its claws deeper as Mac tries to dislodge it. He knows it’s a dream, and Mac tosses and turns as he grapples for control of his mind. 

The images in his mind persist. He's back in the Sandbox, but this time Bozer is with him, and Bozer's dying from a bullet wound before Mac can carry him to safety. Mac's had the dream a million times, and it always ends the same way. 

I know you won’t let me die, Bozer says. But seconds later, his eyes turn glassy when his soul leaves his body. 

Mac’s throat closes, cutting off his oxygen supply, and for a moment he thinks he’s going to follow Bozer into the afterlife. 

It’s just a dream. He’s just lucid enough to remind himself of that. Wake up, Mac commands his body. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. 

The nightmare won’t let him. 

Suddenly a different set of claws grip Mac’s shoulders, and the voice ordering him to wake up isn’t his own. He tries to jerk away, but the claws dig in. 

Not claws, Mac realizes. Hands. Slender ones, with long fingers. Nails biting into his skin through his worn t-shirt. 

He knows those hands. 

“Wake up,” Riley hisses, and it’s enough to finally yank Mac from his dream. Mac’s eyes snap open, automatically scanning his surroundings. The bedroom is pitch black, but Mac can just make out Riley kneeling above him, her tired face twisted in concern. Her hands are on Mac’s shoulders, but not pinning him to the bed like he first thought. Her touch is light, and her thumbs make gentle sweeps across his collarbones. Mac’s own hands find Riley’s forearms, but he doesn’t push her away, nor does she lay back down. “You okay?” she asks. 

Mac tries to play it off. “Yeah, bad dream. That’s all.” It’s a bit of an exaggeration, considering that he’s drenched in sweat and the final and most disturbing seconds of the dream are lingering longer than the rest. He knows it’s not real, but Mac can’t quite shake the sick feeling. 

Riley exhales, and Mac finds himself mirroring her breathing automatically. Sliding a hand down to her wrist, he presses two fingers into her skin, feeling the steady thrum of her pulse. It’s faster than he expects. 

Almost as if in explanation, Riley says, “You scared the shit out of the dog, not to mention me.” 

Mac winces, feeling guilty. “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” Slowly, Riley releases him and lays back down, leaving plenty of space between them. Mac misses her touch the instant she lets go. “Want to talk about it?” 

That throat-closing feeling returns as Mac contemplates what to tell her. Part of him wants to share, but a bigger part hesitates when the explanation dies on his tongue. “Not really,” he finally says. 

“Okay.” Riley says, pausing. “You’re wide awake right now, aren’t you?” 

This, at least, he can admit easily. “Yep.” 

There’s another long pause, filled only with the soft sound of their exhales. Just when he’s about to tell Riley to stop worrying about him and go back to sleep, she says, “Come here.” 

Mac stills. That weird tension still lingers between him and Riley, causing awkward silences and stilted conversations. So this…this is unexpected. 

He shouldn't. He really shouldn't. But, her voice is soft and reassuring, and who is he to turn down a free opportunity to cuddle with the woman he loves? Even if it might be a mistake. 

As soon as Mac scoots across the bed, Riley pulls him into her side, guiding his head to rest on her non-injured shoulder. Riley’s side of the bed isn’t nearly as warm as his, but her body is soft and Mac likes how they fit together. Mac can’t help but sigh in contentment as Riley lightly scratches his scalp, and he lets an arm settle over her waist. They’ve fallen asleep together plenty of times over the years, but she’s never held him. Not like this. His heart pounds at the intimacy of it all. 

But as Mac slowly starts to relax, the pulse in his ear doesn’t slow like it should. Because it’s not his heartbeat he’s hearing. 

It’s hers.

Does that mean…?

“So,” Riley says, breaking the silence. “It’s later.” 

The realization feels like a slap to the face. That’s why her heart is beating so fast. Not because of their close proximity, but because it’s later and there’s still that unresolved thing hanging between them. Mac’s fleeting hope that Riley’s racing pulse meant something else is nothing more than a fantasy in his head. 

Swallowing his disappointment, Mac starts, “Riley, I really am sorry—” She cuts him off. 

“Stop. You don’t need to apologize again. I forgave you the first time.” Her fingers sweep behind his ear, making him shiver slightly. “It’s my turn.” Riley takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry for not listening to you. Like, really listening. Your concerns are legit, and I shouldn’t have brushed them aside and followed Matty blindly.” 

Oh. 

“I hate this situation just as much as you do, and I’m sorry if I made you feel otherwise.” Her voice catches slightly. “Also, I lied to you this morning, in the car. I knew I needed to apologize. I just didn’t know how to say it yet.” 

Pointedly ignoring the intimacy of the gesture, Mac brushes his thumb over her ribs in a way he hopes is reassuring. “It’s okay.” 

Riley tenses beneath him, and Mac freezes instantly. “It’s not, but thanks for saying that anyway,” she murmurs, relaxing again. Her fingers resume their path through his hair, catching on the occasional tangle. 

Mac doesn’t know how to reassure her that it really is okay. So instead he confesses, “Sometimes I hate this job.” 

She’s quiet for a few long seconds before responding. “Me too.” 

It’s weird voicing it aloud. They’re all painfully aware of the downsides to the job, but rarely does anyone directly mention it. Maybe Riley is on a similar page as him after all. 

Mac questions, “Are we doing the right thing? Playing along and letting innocent people get hurt just so we can take down the whole organization at once?” He needs to know her answer…needs confirmation that this whole op isn’t just one massive wrong choice. 

“I think the good we do outweighs the bad,” Riley says after a few moments. “At least that’s what I tell myself so I can sleep at night.” She shifts, and for a brief, exhilarating moment, their hips press together before she pushes her knee uncomfortably into his thigh. Mac squirms, trying and failing to find a good position, ultimately taking a chance by slotting his leg between hers. Riley inhales sharply, but she doesn’t push him away. Mac tries not to read into it. Lying like this is intimate and intense and yet so easy. So right.

Mac pushes the heady feeling aside, ignoring the way it crackles in the background, threatening to consume him. They need to have this conversation, without distraction. Even welcome ones. 

“Riley, we helped them kill people,” he says, and Riley’s hand stills in his hair. 

“We can’t save everyone, Mac." 

The thrumming in his body stops so quickly Riley might as well have dumped a bucket of ice water on him. 

His heart cracks as she softly repeats, "We just can't." Like maybe she's breaking her own heart too by saying it. 

He wants to kiss her chest—to press his lips to her heart in an attempt to soothe the ache there. 

Mac understands all too well. It’s not the countless lives they have saved that stick with him, but the few they couldn’t. Zoe, the researcher who drowned in the Arctic to save her students. Jill, who fell victim to one of Murdoc’s murderous games. Charlie, who sacrificed himself so Mac wouldn’t have to choose between saving his friend and saving hundreds of innocent people. Lasky, the nuclear plant engineer who was just doing his job. Mac’s father. His aunt. Jack. 

Riley clears her throat. "So, yeah. I think we are doing the right thing. It just sucks.” 

Mac agrees, even though he can hardly admit it to himself. But there’s still one thing he doesn’t understand. “I don’t get how Matty seemed so okay with all of this,” he says. 

“Come on, Mac. You know Matty hates this just as much as we do. She wouldn’t ask us to play along if she didn’t think it was necessary.” Riley’s fingers resume their steady, sweeping path through his hair, and Mac takes comfort in the gesture. 

He sighs. “You sound like Jack.” 

“I learned from the best. Don’t tell him I said that,” Riley warns, but Mac can hear the smile in her voice. 

He tilts his face toward the ceiling, imagining Jack looking down at them from whatever afterlife he found himself in. “You hear that, old man? She admitted to learning something from you.” 

Riley snorts, giving Mac’s hair a sharp tug. “Oh shut up.” She means it to be playful, but it sends a bolt of desire through his body. 

It’s too much, with her hand in his hair and their bodies intertwined, and the intimacy may very well burn Mac alive. Every nerve in his body goes on high alert, and his grip on Riley’s rib cage tightens automatically. 

“Sleep,” she murmurs, clearly mistaking the tension in his body as coming from somewhere—anywhere—else. Riley is one of the smartest, most perceptive people Mac knows, and yet she has no idea how he feels about her. Maybe that’s a good thing, he reasons. It’s easier that way. Less complicated. 

Although full-on front-to-front cuddling isn’t not complicated. 

It doesn't take long for the gentle pressure of Riley's fingers to win out, and Mac melts into her touch, letting his body grow heavy. Sleep beckons, and his eyelids flutter shut of their own accord as Riley wraps her free arm around his back, pulling him closer. Again, he thinks she feels like safety. 

In his last moments of consciousness, Mac mumbles, “I like this,” before drifting back to sleep.

*****

For the first time, Riley is already out of bed when Mac wakes, and he’s positive it has something to do with the fact that he’s still on her side of the bed. 

Cuddling with her was a mistake. Even if it led to the best sleep he’s had in a long time. 

Burying his face in Riley’s pillow, Mac takes a deep breath. It smells like her. He hears the front door open and close, and then Riley’s muffled voice fills the apartment. Mac can’t quite pick up what she’s saying, but he thinks she’s on the phone rather than talking to Harley. 

Suddenly getting up seems like a daunting task. 

Not caring if it makes him a coward, Mac stays in bed, taking the opportunity to study the bedroom decor. This is day nine of the op, and before now Mac never bothered to appreciate the work someone put into setting up the safe house. It’s too modern and minimalist for his taste, but he has to admit it looks nice. The bedroom walls are a soft light gray, with a handful of paintings of different sizes and framed photos of him, Riley, and Harley scattered throughout. More of the photos Bozer took are in the hallway, but Mac’s never given those more than a cursory glance. 

Across from the bed sits the single, expensive-looking dresser, with overstuffed drawers that don’t quite shut all the way. One of Riley’s drawers is completely open, and the t-shirt she wore to bed last night hangs haphazardly over the edge. 

Mac’s eyes catch on the photo sitting on top of the dresser, beside the plant he keeps forgetting to water. It’s one of the wedding photos, and it’s the only photo Mac has really paid attention to, since he stares at it every day while getting dressed. The photo is of Riley and him slow dancing, and she’s looking at him like he hung the moon. And he’s looking at her the exact same way. 

More than anything, Mac wishes it was real. 

The bedroom door creaks open, and Mac cranes his neck to see Harley’s fluffy head peek through. She doesn’t enter. Instead, Harley watches him cautiously, almost like she wasn’t expecting him to be awake and is now unsure what to do. 

Mac pats the mattress. “It’s okay. Come on.” When she doesn’t move, he adds, “I’m sorry I scared you last night.” His apology must be enough, because Harley jumps on the bed with him. She stands between his outstretched legs as Mac rakes his hands through her fur, scratching her butt the way she likes. “How about I get you a new toy to make up for it?” he asks. Tail wagging, Harley licks his face in approval, and Mac laughs. “I’ll take that as a yes.” 

Riley raises her voice—she’s complaining about something, although Mac still can’t determine what—and both Mac and Harley turn their attention to the sound. 

Harley looks back at him, and Mac starts to think that he wasn’t far off the other day when he noticed Harley playing protector. He smiles softly. “Go check on her.” 

Harley jumps off the bed immediately, surprising Mac when she glances back at him on her way out the door. 

Still smiling, Mac gets up to start his day.

By the time he emerges from the bedroom, Riley is playing fetch with Harley in the living room while she’s on the phone. Surprised the call has lasted this long, Mac raises his brow, silently asking who she’s talking to, and Riley holds up a finger. One second. 

While he’s waiting, Mac wanders into the kitchen in search of breakfast. 

Riley’s next throw ricochets off the wall, and the tennis ball hits Mac’s thigh. “What do you mean he’s not in the database?” she shrieks. “Bozer, practically every criminal in the world is in that database.” 

Mac freezes midway through unwrapping a muffin. 

Riley pinches her nose. “Then run the sketch through the DMV database. The guy who tailed me has to exist somewhere.” 

He swallows. “Tailed?” 

“Hang on, Boze. Mac just walked in.” Exasperated, Riley moves her phone away from her face. “I took Harley for a walk while you were still asleep, and some guy tailed me. Don’t worry, I lost him long before returning to the apartment.” 

Mac bristles. Riley had been in danger, and he was asleep. Why didn’t she tell him where she was going? He tries not to think about all the bad things that could’ve happened. “You think this guy is part of the Patriots?” 

Shrugging, Riley says, “That makes the most sense. But it’s hard to know for sure when we don’t have personnel records.” 

That’s just one of many problems with this op—no official list of known members of the Patriots. Mac and Riley have no choice but to learn about people the old-fashioned way. 

Pinning her phone between her cheek and her shoulder, Riley retrieves the tennis ball from under the couch, her voice muffled as she asks, “Got anything, Boze?” A few seconds later, she groans, but Mac can’t tell whether it’s because of Bozer’s answer or the amount of hair now stuck to the visibly soggy tennis ball in her hands. He makes a mental note to vacuum again. “Thanks for trying,” she says before hanging up. 

Treading carefully, Mac asks, “Well?” He doesn’t need to be a genius to know that she’s still rattled, no matter how much she tries to downplay it. 

“His name is Peter Morrison, and he has three speeding tickets. That’s it.” Still holding the tennis ball, Riley’s shoulders slump as she sits on the arm of the couch. Confused why she stopped playing, Harley stands between Riley’s legs and whines, nosing Riley’s hand in an attempt to get her to throw the ball again. 

When Riley doesn’t oblige her, Mac asks, “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” Riley says, but her voice is tight and she bristles when he moves closer. He knows she’s lying—they’ve both been lying a lot recently—but what Mac doesn’t understand is why. He knows why he’s lying, but why does Riley still feel the need to hide how she’s feeling from him? 

It’s like the intimacy of last night never happened. 

Mac takes the wet, hairy tennis ball from her hands and throws it for Harley. “Do you want a hug or help kicking someone’s ass?” The question earns him a small smile, one that makes Mac’s heart flutter in his chest. 

“I was thinking more along the lines of punching someone in the face, but I suppose we can kick them too,” she quips. Mac laughs, and the corners of Riley’s eyes crinkle as her smile widens. 

“Sounds like a plan.” Harley brings the ball back and drops it at Mac’s feet. “Last throw,” he tells her, knowing full well it won’t be. Turning his attention back to Riley, he asks, “How’s your shoulder?”

Absent-mindedly, Riley’s fingers trace the outline of a bruise peeking out from beneath her tank top. “It hurts. You grabbed it in your sleep last night, and I almost screamed.” 

Mac grimaces. “Sorry.” He wants to ask about last night and make sure they’re okay, but the words refuse to form. “I’m going to call Conrad and make him explain, okay?” 

“Okay.” Riley nods. For a second, it seems like she wants to say something more, but she ultimately doesn’t. Honoring her implicit request for space, Mac briefly squeezes her arm as he walks away. The gesture is a promise: I’m here.

*****

“This is unacceptable,” Mac growls at Ethan, later that day. After giving Conrad an earful over the phone, apparently Mac made a big enough fuss to warrant a visit from the leader of the Patriots himself. They meet in public—neutral ground—at a park not unlike the one across the street from Mac and Riley’s apartment. It feels wrong to use the term safe house, since it’s not as safe as they thought. 

“I’m sorry you feel that way, James,” Ethan placates. “It’s simply standard business procedure. I’m sure you researched us before formally offering your services.” 

Mac barely stops himself from making a face. Oh they researched the Patriots, all right. “Of course we did.” He really should do a better job of holding his snark at bay, but Mac lets it tint his words anyway. “But we didn’t invade individual members’ privacy or threaten anyone’s personal safety.” 

“My employee did not and would not have hurt your wife. She was never in danger, I can assure you.” 

“And how was she supposed to know that?” He’s borderline yelling, but Mac is too pissed to care. The more Ethan tries to convince him the situation is okay, the more Mac wishes they were closer to the playground so he could strangle Ethan with the chain from the swings. He snarls, “Explain that to me.” 

Ethan, it seems, is at a rare loss for words. Mac waits, forcing the other man to fill the silence. “I suppose she wouldn’t have,” Ethan finally admits, although he shows no sign of backing down. 

Mac stands. “Don’t let this happen again.” He starts to walk away, content with having the last word, but Mac stops dead in his tracks when Ethan calls after him. 

“If you won’t comply with the way we do things, then I guess we’ll just have to find someone else.” 

Mac spins on his heel. “That’s bullshit,” he spits. “You need us. You won’t find anyone better, at least not that you can afford, and we both know it. Your organization is small potatoes right now, but with our support, the Patriots could join the big leagues. So it’s up to you to decide whether you’re content with throwing your money at a pipe dream or if you want to actually accomplish something.” Ethan is taller than him, but Mac manages to look down at him anyway—something he learned from Matty. “The choice is yours. Let me know when you’ve made it.” 

Without waiting for a response, Mac shoves his hands in his pockets and walks away, praying he didn’t just ruin the whole op.

.

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[frostedfaves]

Haunt (5)

Masterlist

Pairing: civilian!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: Wanda can tell you’re losing sleep, but she doesn’t hear the devil trying to make a deal with you.

Warnings: angst, mentions of funerals and grief, ghosts/demons, heavy alcohol use, more angst

A/N: I’m planning on incorporating the blurb that started this story into the next chapter with just a few changes to fit the plot. anyway, I have nothing left to say but to ask for the very least a comment on what you thought about this! these next few parts are what motivated me to write everything that came before it, and I’d just like to hear opinions on it so :)

Previous part

-

A knock on Wanda’s classroom door caused her to look away from her desk with a curious frown, which instantly shifted to a grin at the sight of you. Her jacket and purse were abandoned on her chair as she skipped over, closing the door behind you and turning to pull you into a kiss. Your arms shifted to wrap around her waist, and one of her hands searched blindly to figure out where the weight pressed against her back was coming from.

“You came with food?” she asked as she pulled out of the embrace and moved your arm to bring the large paper bag into view.

“It’s an apology lunch date...for missing the last few walks with Alexei.”

“Thank you, baby.” She left a kiss on the tip of your nose before leading you by your free hand to sit at her desk. “Since you’re here, can you tell me why you missed them?”

“Yes, I can.” Your sudden moment of silence made her pause with a food dish in her hands as she studied your exhausted expression. “Waiting to hear about this promotion has been hell, and I didn’t want you to notice that I wasn’t sleeping because of it.”

“So work has been keeping you busy?” she sighed and you nodded.

“In a way, yes.”

You helped her finish taking everything out of the bag and tried to arrange things on her desk in a way similar to a fancy restaurant, working well with the limited space you had, and Wanda watched on with bright eyes and a heavy heart. A mix of worry and dread swirled together inside of her, knowing that she should trust you more given that you’d opened up a great deal since your sleepover, but also feeling compelled to believe there was more going on with you. Not wanting to ruin the surprise date, she decided to save the discussion for later.

The next few months seemed to pass by at the speed of light, and Wanda’s level of concern over you fluctuated its way into the new year. There were times when you appeared to be more refreshed than ever as you arrived for Alexei’s walks or invited Wanda in for dinner, holding the confidence of a bird that finally mastered flying. On the other side of things, there were days that it was obvious you hadn’t closed your eyes for more than a few minutes during the previous night, which usually accompanied times where you’d simply check out of whatever was happening without warning.

-

School was different without her, much harder. There were stares, and whether they were judgmental or sympathetic, you didn’t know. You couldn’t really tell the difference of anything anymore, now that she was gone. The administrators on the morning announcements and teachers used the words dead and passed away and killed, but to you, she was just gone.

A call of your name had you stabbing into your uneaten lunch with more force now as footsteps accompanied the voice, growing closer until you could sense a presence on the other side of the otherwise empty lunch table.

“May we sit?” 

This time the voice came from her father, the husband of the woman he stood beside, the parents of the girl you’d let down this past weekend. You made the mistake of looking into the bloodshot eyes of two equally broken souls, and one weak nod brought them into the chairs across from you.

“As you know, the service is on Saturday, and we were wondering if you could say a few things that day. Even we didn’t know our daughter quite the way you did.”

“No thanks,” you replied after a bit of hesitation, continuing to poke at whatever had been thrown on your tray this time.

“You’re her best friend! She’d want you to speak at her funeral,” her mother insisted and you snapped.

“I doubt that an eighteen-year-old girl that excited for college was sitting around thinking about who would speak at her funeral.” You took a second to glance around at the new round of staring you’d caused with your outburst before turning back to the grief-stricken parents in front of you. “I’m sorry, but I don’t feel comfortable coming.”

You moved your tray aside and grabbed your bag from the seat beside you, slinging the straps over your shoulder as you stood. The chair scraped noisily against the floor as you pushed it away from the table, the sound echoing in your mind and following you all the way to your car outside. As you walked, you could hear occasional calls of your name in different tones, and one suddenly stuck out above the rest.

“Baby?”

You blinked rapidly as you felt hands on either side of your face, turning your head to meet the concerned gaze of Wanda beside you on the couch. Your hands gently pulled at hers until her palms were detached from your cheeks, and you kissed the inside of her knuckles with a smile.

“Sorry, I was just thinking about something.”

“I know.” she sighed as she shifted to lie sideways on the couch, wrapping her arms around you as you settled against her chest. “Is this ‘something’ the same reason you haven’t been sleeping again?”

You were slightly dragging your fingers across the tail of her sweater as you rested against her torso, and you froze at her words. Of course, you couldn’t be too surprised when even you were aware that you weren’t doing the best job of hiding it, mainly because you were tired of doing that. It was exhausting keeping the biggest part of yourself from the woman you wanted to share everything with as you found yourself falling in love with her faster than you’d like to admit. So you raised your head to meet her eyes and tell her the entire story, dropping it onto her stomach again when her phone started ringing.

“Hey, Piet--what? Oh shit, really? Yeah, I’ll be there soon.” She hung up with a sigh as she placed her phone on the coffee table with a sigh. “Pietro and Mia were on their way back home and the car suddenly died on them. Do you want to come with me to pick them up?”

“I’m too sleepy to move,” you mumbled as you sat up a bit to let her climb off the couch, flopping down onto the cushions in a dramatic fashion once she stood. “See? Even that took too much effort.”

“Okay, lazy.” She giggled as she leaned down to kiss your forehead. “Don’t walk Alexei without me!”

“I wouldn’t dare!” you called out as she hurried toward the front door with her keys, turning back to the television with a smile when you heard her pull out of the driveway.

Stuck. Dead. High. Speak.

You jumped up as the words were whispered into your ears, rubbing the heels of your palm into your eyes with a loud groan as the phrase repeated endlessly, growing a bit louder each time. Knowing you wouldn’t get any relief until Wanda returned (and maybe not even then), you decided to head to the fridge for a drink, going for a beer and not even flinching when you grabbed three instead.

Stuck. Dead. High. Speak.

“You don’t scare me anymore,” you challenged as you collapsed into the armchair in front of the window, drinking the first bottle in one go and setting it on the floor while maintaining eye contact with the horrific sight across the room.

Stuck. Dead. High. Speak.

“I’ve learned to not give a shit about you when I’m drunk.” You drained the second bottle and sat it next to the first. “And maybe it’s not the healthiest way to cope with all this, but it definitely beats letting you win.”

Stuck. Dead. High. Speak.

You held a hand to your chest as you burped harshly, and you sat still waiting for the slight pain in your chest from a third consecutive beer to go away. You were feeling a bit warm following all that alcohol, but you fight the urge to tear off your sweater, knowing you welcomed a bit of heat more than the chill that surrounded you lately.

Stuck. Dead. High. Speak.

“Go to hell!” you yelled with a bit of a slurred speech, leaning back in the chair with closed eyes and beginning to panic when you suddenly couldn’t open them.

“I can’t hold it, Y/N. My arm is stuck.”

“Stop, please.”

“Is she dead?”

“I’m sorry I yelled, just please stop!” you half begged, half yelled again as you fought to open your eyes.

“The driver was high.”

“I said stop!”

“She’d want you to speak at her funeral.”

You gave up on pleading with the voices in your mind and swirling around it, simply focusing on your breathing and the feeling of tears pouring from the corners of your eyes as you pulled at the upholstery. The phrases repeated in chronological order with an occasional shuffling, but it wasn’t until you heard those four little words join the mix again that you lost it.

Stuck. Dead. High. Speak.

“How do I make it stop?!” you screamed as you finally broke free and sat up again, the small bit of relief you gained fading just as quickly as it appeared when you locked eyes with the source of your nightmares only feet away. You waited in building anticipation for the entity to kill you on the spot or make another terrifying move that would drag you into an even deeper feeling of despair, but you were left a bit surprised when you simply heard two new words.

Go home.

-

Tags: @littlegasps @peggycarter-steverogers @imnotasuperhero @natasha-danvers @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @trikruismybitch @cristin-rjd @slut-for-nat @honeyvenable @creepingwolfberry @stickystudentlightmug @choni-trimberly @thedragonzland @dylxn-lee @cordeliaswhore @ravvakin96 @leximills2004 @smolgayhooman @ajlawinters @moonlightmadnessxx

[gaemkyuu]

So...Boyfriend? Boyfriend.

Warnings: death of a loved one and grief. There is one mention to drinking a bottle of wine but all characters in the story are above the age of 21. A/N: this is based off a post @ah2113​ made a little while ago! I liked the idea and decided to write a cute fluffy piece on it! Hope you like it! “Reader and Charlie are best friends and they met on JATP. Charlie and the reader are in love with each other but don’t know. The readers grandma passes away and she calls Charlie, who is in a completely different state/country, in tears about the situation. Charlie feels horrible and completely drops everything he’s doing and immediately flies out to the reader and surprises them. He is with them throughout the whole viewing and funeral and meets her entire family. Everybody mistakens him for the readers boyfriend because of how much he is doing to help and tells the reader that he is clearly in love with them.”  Disclaimer: This is a FICITONAL writing piece! In no way do I claim characters in this piece act this way in real life. 

Masterlist *now taking requests ;)

So...Boyfriend? Boyfriend.

Bzzz. Bzzz.

Charlie was in the middle of an interview when his phone started vibrating. Normally he kept it on airplane mode, but today he forgot. He quickly reached for his phone and saw her name pop up on the screen, losing focus for a brief moment on the interview. 

“Pardon me? Could you repeat the question?” Charlie was trying so hard to focus on the interview at hand but knowing he was on the last question, made it all the more difficult to focus when he knew she was calling.

“Charlie, the fans want to know. Are you single?” he chuckled but since he was distracted, he didn’t give a really good answer.

“Kinda” he regretted it as soon as it left his mouth and the fact that he started blushing made the situation worse! Thankfully the interviewer didn’t press any further into the matter and made a casual joke about it. They quickly wrapped the interview knowing that Charlie had another one scheduled right afterwards, but he had a few minutes to make up a phone call.

Amelie had worked on set for season one of Julie as a hair and make up artist and shocked many at how talented she was for her age. She got along well with the cast and would often hang out with them on their days off, but for some reason she gravitated the most to Charlie. Everyone often teased them about the chemistry they had and how they would make a great couple but both of them would laugh at the comments and deny any feelings towards one another. They were simply nothing more but really good friends.

Or so they thought.

Amelie was head over heels for the brunette and Charlie for her. She loved his smile and enthusiasm for life. She admired his work ethic and passion for what he did. She would squash every thought about being with Charlie because he was too good for her. She liked the weirdest things and entertained people with the most random facts. She could spend hours in an art and fashion museum, when most people could only spend so much time. Amelie saw herself as weird and knew that Charlie saw her as nothing more than a friend.

The opposite was true. Charlie loved her quirkiness and nerdiness around the strangest things. He loved that she was always so modest and humble, even though she had all the right to brag at how amazing she was at her talents. He loved how she was always up for trying something new and that she had an eye for fashion, design and art, but he knew she didn’t see him as anything more than a friend. That still didn’t stop Charlie from always being there for her.

“Charlie?” her voice came out in a broken and quiet whisper. He could tell that she was crying and he instantly felt his stomach drop. A few sniffles came from the other line before the voice spoke again. “She’s gone Charlie... Grandmaman is gone...” he could hear her voice start to shake again.

“Say the word Amelie and I am there” Charlie glanced at his watch,8:55pm. He had five more minutes until the next interview with the pop culture podcast from Sydney. This meant that it was 5:00am in London, where Amelie was working on Netflix’s newest series. “Ams?”

“It’s okay. I’m okay. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to disturb you, I just didn’t know who else to talk to...” she sniffled quietly not sure what else to say.

“What time are you leaving to get to set?” 8:57pm, he was running out of time. He saw the notification that the next interviewer had signed on to their zoom meeting.

“I gotta be on set at 7:00am so the van will be here to pick me up at 6:30am. It’s my last day on set, so there’s that” she sniffled again, feeling herself calm down with Charlie on the other line. She desperately needed him, but she couldn’t ask him that. He was doing press for season 2 of Julie and the Phantoms and he needed to be available, not off consoling his friend who was madly in love with him. 

“Amelie, listen, I have to jump onto the next interview, but try to get a little more sleep and drink some water. I’ll call you as soon as I’m done. When are you flying back?” Charlie felt awful having to hang up on her when he knew she needed him.

“I’ll be on the next flight out to Vancouver. Hopefully there’s a flight this evening back to Canada. My mom’s really upset and my siblings are rushing to get home for her” Amelie took a deep breath and listened to the frustrated sigh on the other end. He was probably annoyed that she called him. “Thank you for picking up Char”

“Anything for you Ams... I’m really sorry but I have to go now... If you’re busy when I call, can you let me know when you’re at the airport?” Amelie agreed and hung up the phone, flopping on the bed and a silent stream of tears falling from her eyes again. Meanwhile, Charlie sat in his LA bedroom, head in hands frustrated that he couldn’t be there for her.

***

Amelie watched out the window as the plane landed in Vancouver. She felt an anxiousness to get off the plane and be with her mom, but she knew she had to go through security and baggage. She didn’t notice that her leg was restlessly bouncing until the nice old lady beside her placed a hand on her lap. 

“Excited are we?” she smiled at her kindly and Amelie blushed, a little embarrassed. “I was once in love too. I get the feeling”

“Actually, I’m just anxious to be with my mom... My grandmother passed away yesterday and I wanna be there for her” the old lady’s smile changed to an empathetic one and she patted her knee.

“I’m sorry for your loss my dear... I lost my sister a year ago today. It is not an easy thing to grieve and I can tell that your soul feels heavy. You might want to think about sharing that load with someone” she smiled. A flight attendant interrupted their conversation letting them know that she had priority to leave the plane. The old woman then looked at Amelie and winked. ��They’re letting us off the plane now honey. Thank you miss, but my daughter can grab my bags from the upper compartment, can’t she” baffled at the kindness of the old woman, Amelie dumbly nodded and stood to help her. As they made their way through the gate, an attendant was waiting for the old woman. “You can leave my bags with this gentle man” she smiled.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that” the old woman took her hand. “Your mother is fortunate to have you as a daughter. Now go and be with her” Amelie smiled and gave the old woman a hug, and teared up a bit remembering her own grandmother. Wiping away a tear, Amelie said thank you again and headed off to get her bags. To no surprise, getting her suitcase was a gong show because they had to share a lane with another flight. By the time she got there, tons of people waited right by the carousel for their bags, making Amelie stand in the back and tippy toe to see a glimpse of her bag. She was fortunate that a man had helped her as she squeezed her way to the front, waiting for her bag. With a deep breath, she exited the doors and dialed her mother.

“Hello? Maman? What car are you in? Oh wait! I see it!” Amelie quickly rushed outside of the door at YVR to get to her mother’s vehicle. She was able to find a flight that evening and she left right away. The flight was long, but she was able to make it home to her mother’s side in 24 hours. She trotted over to her mother’s vehicle that pulled into the loading zone, flashing their hazards on, her mother getting out of the passenger side. Amelie stopped for a moment, confused that her mother wasn’t driving the car. Her mother quickly embraced her in her arms and both of them shared a tearful hug. “Who’s driving maman?”

Charlie stepped out of the driver’s seat and took Amelie’s suitcase from her, as she stood there with her mouth open. “Surprise?” she immediately felt a sudden wave of emotion wash over her and she jumped into Charlie’s waiting arms crying as he held her tight. She felt sadness and happiness while grieving over her Grandmother and feeling elated at the sudden presence of the boy.

“How?” she sniffled and pulled away, wiping her tears.

“Charlie knew how sad you were over Grandmaman, so he texted me late last night and flew in early this morning” her mother explained. Amelie’s mother knew of her crush on the boy and always encouraged her to pursue the relationship further, but she always insisted to her mother that they would be nothing more than friends. Her mother would roll her eyes at her daughter every time she said that, knowing that the chemistry and the feelings were there, but the two were just too stubborn to admit it.

“That’s what friends are for right?” 

Right. Friends.

***

After being picked up at the airport, they went straight to her mother’s house and helped her mom plan out things for the funeral. Naturally, Charlie became the chauffer, driving Amelie and her mom around the city to make various appointments with funeral directors and lawyers. Amelie’s grandmother gave birth to five children and never remarried after her husband passed away. Amelie had very little recollection of her grandfather as he passed away when she was quite young. Each of her mother’s siblings had at least three kids and each child had at least three kids, making their family huge. That didn’t include her mother’s cousins and their families, all of which would be flying in to attend the funeral in two days time.

Running around was an emotionally exhausting task, not to mention the exhaustion that came with grief. The two women were grateful that Charlie was around for them that day as Amelie’s siblings slowly started to get into town. He ordered pizza for everyone, knowing that all of her siblings would be in Vancouver in time for the funeral. Her grandmother was clear that she wanted the viewing and funeral to be combined into one day, not wanting to prolong her burial process, something that they honored. But with that request, it meant a lot had to be done.

Amelie had four siblings, all of which were older than her, making her the baby of the family. Her brother Benoit had moved to New Brunswick to live with the love of his life Maxime, and he was the second to arrive. He had work to take care of and unfortunately Maxime couldn’t get the time off. Benoit got along very well with Charlie, connecting over Dieppe and how it differed from Fredericton where Benoit lived with his partner. Her twin sisters Rachelle and Rene got into Vancouver right before dinner and actually carried the pizza inside while Charlie paid. Both sisters lived in Toronto, one training on the Olympic figure skating team and the other working in Parliament. Throughout the night, they joked about how cute Charlie was and how they were both single and didn’t mind dating someone younger. This annoyed Amelie but she wouldn’t admit that to anyone. Her third oldest brother, Theo, was the last to arrive, getting in way past dinner but before midnight. He lived in New York pursuing photography and had to finish a shoot before he could come home. Hearing this, Charlie asked him multiple questions about photography when they sat around their mother’s fireplace that night. It was nice to be able to gather as a family before the craziness of their relatives. French Canadian families were big, loud and full of personality, but Amelie knew Charlie understood this dynamic very well.

The next two days passed by in a blur with Charlie helping out wherever he could and sometimes locking himself in her mother’s office to do an interview or meeting here and there. Amelie was so grateful for him because every time she felt overwhelmed or that she was going to cry, he somehow made it to her side, comforting her and helping her be strong. Rachelle and Rene kept telling her to claim Charlie before they did, but Amelie would always insist that they were friends. But when her brothers got involved, Amelie couldn’t help but think that maybe her siblings were right. Maybe she should ask Charlie out, but how could she do that when her entire family was still dealing with the loss of her grandmother?

Just last night, Charlie sat up late into the evening comforting Amelie as she put the slideshow together on her Macbook. She could hardly look at the pictures or listen to the music without tearing up and having mini cry sessions on his shoulder, something he took in stride. It also didn’t help that she had consumed an entire bottle of wine...

In all honesty, Charlie couldn’t be more happy to be by her side at this moment. He knew how hard it was to lose a loved one, especially since he lost his grandmother before filming season one of Julie and the Phantoms. Being here for her was important to him and he wanted to show her that she could always come to him. When she passed out on his shoulder that night, he thought about how badly he wanted to be with her as he tucked her in bed. He loved how she snuggled into his shoulder as he finished up the slide show and he loved that she reached out for him and called his name in her sleep as he walked away. He kissed your forehead goodnight and hated the fact that he couldn’t just call you his.

A soft knock at the door interrupted Amelie’s day dream of her grandmother. She wiped the tears that have unexpectedly fallen from her eyes and took a deep breath. “Come in” her voice was shakier than she wanted it to be, but relief washed over her when Charlie walked in wearing a black dress shirt and tie. He smiled empathetically to her and approached her with open arms, something she gladly accepted. She inhaled his scent, burying her face in his chest, while he rested his head on top of hers. 

“You ready?” Charlie held her tight as he asked this question. This would be the first and last time Amelie would be seeing her deceased grandmother.

“I should be asking you that question” she softly giggled. Charlie would be meeting all of her relatives today, including her annoying cousin Madeleine. 

“You forget that I too have a big family. It’ll be fine. Plus, I’m here for you and not them” Amelie pulled away from the hug to stare him in the eyes, silently figuring whether now was a time to discuss her feelings or not. In the end, she decided against it and smiled softly at him, which he returned.

“Thank you for being here Char... It really means a lot” he chuckled and pulled her close for a second hug, something she would never tire hearing.

“Anything for you Ams. Anything.”

***

The funeral and mass went according to plan and soon enough they found themselves in the church basement with a slide show of her grandmother playing in the background, while guests visited the pastries and beverages being served. Amelie was occupied with the many questions her aunts and uncles had about her career and how she was doing, but she couldn’t help but worry about Charlie. Throughout her conversations with her relatives, she watched Charlie help out her mother with the pastries and beverages, stopping once in a while to entertain the younger cousins at the children’s table. She smiled at him gratefully for helping out so much, but grew a little nervous when her nosy aunts and uncles pulled him aside and started interviewing him. It seemed like he was handling himself fine, but Amelie felt even more confident when he made eye contact with her and winked. 

“Well if it isn’t the Hollywood superstar.” Amelie could feel herself cringe at the sound of the voice. It was Madeline, Amelie’s cousin. They were the same age and same stature, but they couldn’t be more opposite. Madeline pursued modeling at a young age and still continued to do it, but for some reason, she always felt that everything was a competition. Amelie wanted to simply be cousins, but Madeline would take every opportunity to upstage her or show off to their aunts and uncles. Amelie didn’t really care, but the more she didn’t the more vicious Madeleine became. At one point in their lives, Madeleine had moved to Vancouver for more opportunities and ended up living with her family. This caused a lot of drama between the two of them, including Madeleine dating several of her exes and bringing them to family events.

“Hey Mads. Long time no see” Amelie forced herself to be nice and polite, even though she felt her cousin didn’t deserve it. Her black dress was a little too tight and a little too revealing for a funeral, but she wasn’t about to bring that up. “How have you been?”

“Oh you know, living it up in Paris, traveling all over Europe for different modeling jobs. It’s exhausting, but I’m sure you know of it” anyone could hear the sarcasm and apprehension in her voice. Her aunts awkwardly moved away, making up some excuse about visiting other family members so that they could catch up. “How does it feel to be working on a children’s show?”

“I mean, I love what I do, so I can’t complain” Amelie bit her tongue before she could say anything rude. She never understood why her cousin always felt the need to announce how much better she was over her.

“So... optimistic. What’s it feel like to settle?” she felt the blood rush to her face, starting to lose control of her emotions. This was not the place or time to have this conversation, yet Madeline persisted. She took a deep breath trying to level herself and forced a smile on her face. As she opened her mouth to reply, she felt a warm hand hug her lower back and the slight smell of cologne fill the air.

“Everything alright babe?” she blushed at the name and gesture from Charlie, who kissed the top of her head. Madeline flushed and her eyes were as wide as saucers. “Oh hi, I don’t believe we’ve met, I’m Charlie” he reached out his hand towards Madeline, keeping the other wrapped around Amelie. 

“Madeline. It’s nice to meet you Charlie. You’re an actor from the show that she worked on, right? What are you doing here?” Amelie could hear the faintest trace of annoyance in her voice, and shook his hand. Charlie and Amelie looked at each other, a cocky smile on Charlie’s face and slight confusion on Amelie’s. 

“I’m her boyfriend and I came to support her. I’m sure you’ve been dealing with the grief as well and I couldn’t let her go through this alone” part of what Charlie said was true, but Amelie couldn’t help but blush at the mention of boyfriend. No one had actually asked Charlie if they were dating, but a lot of relatives were beating around the bush. Apparently Charlie had said that rather loudly and some of the relatives started gossiping in a hushed voice. 

“Wow Amelie. I didn’t know you had such good taste in men based on your past partners” Charlie laughed at the comment, something Madeline didn’t suspect.

“I wouldn’t say I’m good taste, but Ams if definitely a catch” he gloated and kissed her cheek, causing Amelie to blush furiously. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I actually came over because your mom needs some help” if there was one thing Amelie could count on, it would be Charlie’s ability to read a situation and get her out of it. “Shall we, my love?” she nodded and walked away from Madeline flushed and confused, but also really excited. He moved his hand from her back to her hand, softly dragging her away from the conversation.

“Boyfriend?” Amelie whispered to him, inferring the comments he made to Madeline. 

“I know she ruffles your feathers, so why not ruffle hers?” Benoit interrupted Charlie, asking him if he could help put some of the tables from upstairs away. “You’re mom’s in the kitchenette, you can probably hide there for a bit. I got you a plate of pastries that I stashed in the back” she thanked him and watched him walk away with her brother. Before she could take another step, Rachelle and Rene linked arms with her on either side and rushed her into the kitchenette.

“So you’re dating now?!” Rene questioned and before Amelie could answer, Rachelle interrupted her. “When were you going to tell us this?!”

“About time” her mother scoffed, stirring another jug of fruit punch. “Okay you two, leave your sister alone to breathe for a second. Take these pitchers out to the table and find Theo. Make sure Tante Genevive hasn’t stolen him for a private photoshoot for Facebook” Amelie was grateful that her mother shooed the twins off and passed her the plate that Charlie put aside. 

“Thanks Maman” her mother smiled smugly at her, moving about the kitchenette. “Please don’t say I told you so” her mother made the motion to zip her lips as she giddily made her way around the kitchen.

***

That evening, Amelie’s family stumbled through the front door of her mother’s house, everyone retiring to their rooms for a short moment of relaxation while their mother ordered take out for a late dinner. They had stayed behind to clean up with a few other relatives and put away the church tables and chairs. Charlie didn’t complain a single time and rushed to do whatever he could to help everyone out. Charlie followed Amelie up the stairs to her old bedroom and shut the door behind him as she plopped onto the bed. Part of Amelie did this was because she was tired, but the other part of her did it hopefully to avoid the conversation they were about to have. Charlie quietly sat beside her on the bed and played with her hair, something she absolutely loved.

“So, about today...” this conversation was happening whether she wanted it to or not.

“It was really nice of you to stand up for me but you didn’t have to. I have no problem telling my family it was a small misunderstanding. It should stop them from blabbering to the media” She sat up and Charlie looked incredulously at Amelie confused at what she was saying.

“Ams, I don’t think you get it” again, she interrupted him before he could continue.

“No I do, I get it. You’re an amazing friend Char and you didn’t have to risk the rumours for-” she didn’t complete the thought because Charlie’s lips were suddenly on hers and she completely melted into them. It was like this tension that she never acknowledged left her shoulders, making her feel like she was floating.

“Do you understand now?” he searched her eyes for some sort of confirmation. “I really like you Amelie and I’ve liked you for a long time, but I’ve always thought you wanted to be friends”

“I wanted to be friends?! I thought you friend zoned me first!” he gave her a look for interrupting him. “Sorry”

“Regardless of what happened, being with you here and helping you and your family throughout all of this made me want to be a part of your life so much more. I want to be more than your friend. I know this is a bad time to say this, but I don’t think I can keep pretending that I don’t want to be with you” he held her hand in his and drew nearer to her again. “I really want to be with you if you’ll have me”

She closed the gap between the two of them and kissed him this time, something which Charlie gladly accepted. The two shared a simple but passionate kiss, as if they were confessing two years of secret feelings to each other. A bang at the door startled them.

“Put your pants on! Maman wants you guys to go pick up the take out!” Benoit yelled from behind the door. The two flushed at the comment and heard the snickers and giggles from the other siblings.

“So...boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend.”

[tooruluv]

Tobio Kageyama x F!Reader ( part 5 )

❝ goodbyes hurt when the story is not finished, but the book is closed. tell me, have we started a new one? ❞

description: it had been years since you and kageyama broke up. it had been years since the two of you left each other, hatred brewing. fate works in funny ways, you thought, as you caught his eye across the café. love works in funny ways, you thought, as you woke up in his bed the next morning, his fiance calling his phone.

genre: forbidden love, cheating, ex lovers, (all characters are aged up)

word count: 2,101

warnings/notes: hey guys! i made a twitter :) it’s @ tooruluvv if any of you want more updates or just joke about my stories/characters! anyway, i hope you all enjoy this one <3

tag list: @kara-grayson04​​​​ @sadhwstudent​​​​ @unlikelytigerqueen​​​ @kageyamavibes​​​ @monviemoo​​ @tazzi-baby​​ @1800xibal​​ @osterfield-hollandwriter​​ @amirahroronoa​​ @lozzybowe​​ @stinkybitch1919​ @sillykittt​ @pinknugget​

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Hana opened the door, greeting you with a fake smile plastered on her face. Suddenly, Kageyama’s penthouse was Kageyama and Hana’s. You tried not to think about the fact you were here no more than a day ago.

You tried not to think of the fact her fiancé, the man she loved, had been inside of you on the couch, against that wall, in the bed she would lay down in later.

“Oh my god, it’s been so long!” Hana spoke as she opened the door to let you in. “How did you find me? Actually, don’t answer that. How have you been?”

You were going to be nice. You were going to pretend to put a smile on your face and pretend that nothing happened. Instead, as soon as you walked through the door, you turned on your heels.

“Let’s not fake this. How are you and Kageyama?” Your words were venom.

Hana froze. She avoided your eyes. “I… um.. I was going to tell you. I was.”

“But you didn’t.” You scoffed. “So, were you going to tell me before or after you got married?”

This would be a fair fight, you thought. You could punch her perfect face and break her nose, easy. She was around the same height as you, too, maybe a little taller. But you were definitely angrier. You could beat her ass.

“I was going to tell you when it all happened. But then I thought it would have been awful, so I waited. And then, I just kept waiting. And then it just seemed way too late.” She didn’t blink, hugging herself as if that would make you feel something for her.

“You’re my best friend. He’s my ex. Even a text would’ve been nice.”

It was at that moment that the man of the hour decided to walk through the door. The second Tobio Kageyama entered, he froze. His gym bag fell out of his hand. “What’s… what’s going on here?” He asked, nervousness basically sweating off of him.

“Nothing!” Hana sent him a smile. You watched her. “Look who’s back! I was just inviting her to stay with us and help me with the wedding details!”

You raised a brow, looking around to try to figure out where the fuck that came from. Kageyama’s eyes found yours, and you didn’t know what to say.

“Right?” Hana turned to you, arm now linked with her fiancé’s. A protective gesture.

“Yeah. Yeah.” You lied, staring directly at Hana. “She was just asking me to stay in the guest room until I get my own place. Help prep for the wedding.”

Hana transferred from the states in grade school. The two of you sat next to each other in class and you knew immediately that you would end up becoming best friends.

She was the only American in your school, and you were intrigued to say the least. She spoke fluent English and Japanese, had blonde hair and blue eyes, didn’t really understand Japanese customs. You were the first one who helped her out.

“You can call me Hana.” She told you when you introduced yourself.

With a smile on your face and a pack of gummy bears in your hand, you let her call you by your first name too.

You called Oikawa almost immediately. Hana told you to get your things from the hotel you were staying at, smiling the entire time as though you were simply best friends and everything was okay.

“What the fuck?” Oikawa growled over the phone. “Beat her ass. Seriously. I condone and will bail you out of jail.”

“I don’t know what happened.” You swiped your keycard. “I want to figure out what the fuck happened while I was gone that made them think getting together was a good idea. If helping with the wedding solved that unsolved mystery…then so be it.”

“You’re seriously going to go through with that whole fake story?”

“It hurts.” You shoved your extras into your suitcase. “And it sucks. And I would love to beat her ass. But I’m just going to go through the motions and hoping for the best. It isn’t like I haven’t done worse.”

“I fully believe that her going behind your back and marrying your ex-boyfriend that you clearly are not over trumps you sleeping with him one time.”

“Your logic is flawed.”

“And so is yours.” You heard movement from behind him. “Hey, I got to go. But let me know what brilliant story she concocts.”

The wind had picked up outside, rain pouring and clouds dark. They were still at practice, slaving away in hopes to go to nationals.

You waited by the lockers. Kageyama promised to meet you right after practice to start the weekend, and you agreed wholeheartedly. You forgot that he liked to spend a lot of extra time after.

Their captain, Daichi if you remembered correctly, was the first to leave. He caught your eye as you sat on the floor.

“You might want to go interrupt him and tell him to clean up.” He sent you a smile. “You know how he is.”

“You’re not wrong.” You chuckled. “Are you sure it’s alright that I interrupt?”

“Practice is over. Besides, I will never be the one to tell you to stop them from overworking.”

You thanked him and he waved you goodbye, heading out into the worst of the storm. You headed to the gym, hoping to get your boyfriend to leave practice early and come with you to watch a movie at yours. The sound of volleyballs hitting the court floors echoed from outside.

“Babe.” You called as you entered. You distracted them for sure, the ball instantly hitting the floor by Kageyama’s feet.

“Oh, hey.” He walked towards you. Hinata stayed behind, picking up the ball where it laid. “Hey. I promise we were only going to stay a little longer.”

“I know.” You reached for his hands. He let you hold them, despite the little ginger giggling behind you both. “It’s just storming pretty bad outside. I didn’t want to get caught up in it.”

“Okay. What if you wait for just a couple more sets and we can go?”

“Kags…”

“Please.” He linked his pinky with yours. “Just a couple more. And then you can pick the movie.”

This was different. New. He was asking you (no, he was begging you) for something. You weren’t used to him like that.

“Just a couple more. I want to see the quick attack in action.” You looked over Kageyama’s shoulder to his shorter friend. “Hi, Hinata!”

Hinata waved at you, blush spreading across his face. “Just watch us! You’ll love it.”

So you did. You watched Kageyama set the ball, Hinata spike it in a split second. If you blinked, you would’ve missed it. You were at a loss for words.

Living up to his promise, he only did it around five or six more times. That’s all it took, really, to improve even a little bit. It wasn’t long before the gym was clean and you were saying goodbye to Hinata.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to walk you?”

“He doesn’t need to be walked.” Kageyama muttered at the same time Hinata exclaimed, “No! Really, I like to bike in the rain!”

Kageyama took your hand in his under the umbrella as you walked away. He knew that he was in love with you. He was vulnerable around you, he loved your affection and praise, and he loved the way you looked as the moon reflected off of your cheek.

“You guys are amazing.” You told him. Another praise to go straight to his heart. “You have been practicing so hard, I really hope to see you do that move at a game soon. What do you call it again?”

“A quick attack.”

“The quick attack.” You repeated. “It’s amazing. I’m extremely proud.”

He had to hold back a smile. “T-T-Thank you.”

The last conversation you had with Hana was a little over two years ago. You had kept in contact for the most part. She gushed over Tsukishima a majority of the time, and you told her about the amazing places you went.

Speaking of Kei Tsukishima, where the fuck was he in all of this? What happened between them?

You thought about calling or texting the tall blonde, but you didn’t have anyway to contact him. Maybe you could call Hinata and ask. Or force it out of Kageyama.

Your bedroom (or rather, the guest bedroom you are staying in) was pretty messy, your things everywhere yet nowhere at once. You didn’t plan on staying very long, so you did your best to keep things in your suitcase or near it. Like a vacation, you thought. Like a very sucky, sucky vacation.

It was ridiculous.

The bedroom was huge, and you had glass windows on two entire walls (with curtains installed for privacy). The view was insane. The dark wood flooring contrasted with the white and modern feel of the room. It was gorgeous. It was ridiculous.

A hand grasped your wrist. You were spun around, face to face with the man of the house. If he seen you ogling the room, he said nothing.

It’s dead silent. His eyes gazed into yours. You stared back, just as silent, terrified.

It’s been almost too long, standing too close, for one of you not to say something. So, you started, “Kags..”

He had to close his eyes after you said his nickname. You didn’t expect your voice to sound so small.

“Promise me that you won’t tell her.” His voice broke at the end of his plea.

The image of Hana, his beautiful bride, played on his mind. How happy she would be, how happy he will be. He couldn’t imagine the idea of getting back together with you, breaking all of the promises that have yet to be fulfilled.

He couldn’t break Hana’s heart like you did his.

You swallow hard because you knew what he was thinking. It didn’t take much explaining to know. It sent a pain to your chest to know that after all of these years, and while he knew you better than anyone else, he still didn’t know you at all.

You would never be that heartless.

“You must think very low of me to think I would do something like that.” You told him, looking to the floor. “I would never. I won’t.”

Kageyama registered your words into his head and it took him a few seconds to believe you.

When he finally does, he nodded slowly. More to himself than anything. And turned to leave, dropping your wrists.

You wanted to call after him, to stop him and tell him right then and there that you were sorry. You wanted the never ending apologies to come, get some closure. But when he’s almost out of the door, he’s the one to halt and start speaking.

“Just. Stay the fuck away from me and my fiancé.” He didn’t want you here. He didn’t want you.

You couldn’t breathe. You waited as you felt the unbearable heat in uour cheeks and the burning in your throat. You stood there, staring blankly at the door where the love of your life just walked out of. You tried as hard as you could to not cry, or scream.

[eideticmemory]

EVER SINCE NEW YORK V | MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

Description: I was messaged saying: “If you don’t write a young Matthew enemies to lovers fic featuring an obsession with sucking on boobs then what’s the point 😔.” So, here it is, folks! The ultimate College!Matthew fic.

PART 5! Read Part 4 here!

SOUNDTRACK:

Falling - Opia.

Her - Majid Jordan.

Daylight - Maroon 5.

Word Count: 4,619.

Rating: M.

Warning/Includes: Sexual intercourse, drinking, recreational drug use, a bit of angst.

Spring, Junior Year.

Las Vegas,

Nevada.

“Hey.”

You pulled up the cover, holding it over your body and looking down at Matthew. His head was perched between your legs, and his lips were covered in slickness. “Hey,” you replied. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” he shrugged, and placed a kiss on your inner thigh. “Wanted to ask you something.”

“Right now?” 

He laughed, “Oh, relax, princess. You’ll get your nut. I just wanted to see if...maybe, you might wanna go to Vegas?”

“Vegas?” you mumbled. “Why?”

“A bunch of us are going for spring break. I’m gonna be everyone’s tour guide, my mom is putting us up for the week. You should come.”

“You know what?” You smiled. “I should come. I really, really should. So, c’mon, get back to it.” You grabbed onto his hair, twirling it on your fingers. 

“Bossy,” he whispered. He leaned down and continued to eat you out. Your head fell back against the pillow, you let out a happy sigh. 

“Worst timing ever, Matthew. Ask me in, like, 10 minutes.”

He stopped, gasping, “10 minutes?” 

“Fine, 15, 20, I don’t care. Just please—“

It took approximately 16 minutes. Matthew was able to get you off with his mouth in no time, and the two of you tangled together in a sloppy kiss. His cock pushed into you, his hand wrapped around your throat and you went dizzy as he pressed his fingers into your neck. It was three in the morning, soft music was playing through Matthew’s room, the lights were dim. The brief seperation last semester happened, it was over, and you both silently agreed that it shouldn’t happen again. 

Since returning from Christmas break last month, you’ve gone back to your late night schedule. Aside from seeing each other in class and parties and hangouts, you spent the hours between midnight and three AM at Matthew’s place. It often left you tired for your 8 o’clock class, but it was worth it. You were getting dicked down — very well, by the way — Matthew and you were getting along, laughing and cracking inside jokes with one another. Things were great. Hence, Matthew’s invitation to Nevada. 

“So?” He said, holding you against his chest after the deed was over. 

“So? So what?”

“Vegas? Spring break?”

“To meet your mommy?”

“Well—“ he stuttered. “Yeah, it’s her house, so you’ll probably meet her.”

“You gonna bring me home to your mom? And say ‘hey, mom, this is [y/n], my nutty buddy.’?” You laughed. 

“If that’s how you’d like to be introduced,” he shrugged. “I was just gonna tell her your name and keep it at that.”

“Wow, I’ve never been so honored!”

You shook his head at you, giggling, “A simple no would suffice.”

You looked up at him, a small smile on your lips, “I’ll go.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll go,” you repeated. “To Vegas. Count me in.” 

“Cool,” he smiled. “Cool.” 

“Only if Claire can come, too.”

He sighed, “Claire.”

“That’s my condition. Take it or leave it, dude.”

He took it.

You got a few hours rest in your own dorm, and woke up promptly to shower and get ready for class. When you got out of the bathroom, Claire was awake, brushing her teeth in front of the mirror. 

“Hey,” you grinned, drying off your hair. 

“Morning!” She pipped.

“Hey,” You began to get dressed. “You didn’t have plans for spring break, did you?”

“In what world would I have spring break plans that you don’t know about?” She asked. 

“Right,” you nodded. “So, how would you feel about going to Vegas?” 

Claire stopped applying her makeup and turned to you, “Vegas?”

“Yeah. We fly out the Sunday before break. What do you think?”

She leaned against the wall, her eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Sunday...” she whispered. “This wouldn’t be, uh, the trip Matthew’s taking everyone on, would it?”

You took a step back, freezing from buttoning your shirt. “Well...yeah, I guess. I’m not sure, I just got invited by someone else.”

“Who?”

“Huh?”

“Who invited you?”

“Um—“

“Cause I can’t think of anyone in our friend group that would invite you on Gube’s trip, knowing...how you feel about him.” She crossed her arms.

“So...is that a no to Vegas?” 

She sighed, shook her head, “C’mon, [y/n]...”

“What?”

“Are you...are you fucking Matthew again?”

Her words hit like a bullet. They blew through you like a disaster, racking your stomach with nerves and knots and fear. You felt yourself falling in this pit of despair, of terror, the realization that your worst fear had come to life. And you could only say one thing: 

“Huh?”

“Oh, God!” She shouted. “You are! You’re fucking Matthew again!”

You gasped, “C-Claire, what...what are you talking about?” 

“Oh, cut the shit, [y/n]! I saw you guys in the pool at the beach house, okay?”

You sighed deeply, closing your eyes and ducking your head to avoid her gaze.

“Claire...”

“He treated you like trash, [y/n]! He fucked me, he fucked you, and broke your heart—“

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, please. The Roni thing had you depressed for weeks. And I thought maybe Alex was getting your mind off it. Oh, my God, [y/n], tell me you did not dump Alex to mess around with Matthew. Please, please tell me you have not been running around here, letting Matthew Gubler put his dick in you.”

“Stop!” You shouted. 

“What is it about him? I used to have to pay you five bucks just to be in the same room as him. Now, he’s got you out at all hours of the night, and running off to Vegas?”

“What’s your deal, Claire?”

“My deal is that you’re my best friend. My very best friend. You deserve better.”

“I’m going to class,” you muttered. You continued to fix your outfit, moving on to your hair — which you quickly styled. You grabbed your backpack and headed out without another word. From you or Claire. 

You didn’t mention this spat to Matthew. You just began spending an abnormal amount of time at his place, but he didn’t mind. He welcomed you with open arms, supplied you with an ample amount of sex. He helped you study, waited up for you after ballet practice, and always, always kissed you goodbye when you left. 

When spring break rolled around, Claire and you weren’t on speaking terms. She was well aware that all the time you were spending away was spent with Matthew, and she refused to entertain it. She spoke roommate business with you, kept things civil, but there were no late night movie marathons or afternoon lunches. 

“I’m leaving for Vegas,” you told her, hauling your suitcase. 

“Okay,” she replied, flipping through a book on her bed, and not looking up from it.

You sighed, “Okay.”

Matthew greeted you at the airport, keeping his distance to keep from alerting the rest of your friends to the relationship. “Hey, where’s Claire?”

You gulped, “Um, uh, she’s not coming. I didn’t tell you?”

“Oh. No, you didn’t. Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine. Hey, how much money do you think I can win in one week?” You changed the subject.

He giggled, “I’m gonna have to keep my eye on you, aren’t I?”

“And keep me close,” you whispered. “Very close.”

You sat separately on the plane, but took the same car to his house. Matthew held the door open for everyone, winking at you as you came in last. His house was charming, had family photos plastered on the wall. 

“Aw, look,” you murmured to him, pointing at a baby picture of him on the wall. “Little Matthew!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, keep it moving,” he rolled his eyes, and put his hand on your lower back, guiding you through the house. 

The group gathered in the living room, silently admiring the place. “My boy!” Matthew’s mom exclaimed, rushing from the kitchen with her arms wide open. This big smile grew out on Matthew’s face, and it made you smile instantly. His mom engulfed him a tender hug, holding him close, rubbing his back.

“Mom, you remember everyone,” Matthew said, his arm around his mom’s shoulders. He renamed everyone in the room, pointing them out to her. “And this is [y/n],” he motioned to you, giving you a faint smile. 

“Hi, Mrs. Gubler,” you greeted her. You reached out to shake her hand, and she shook it softly. 

“[y/n]...” She whispered, subtly glancing at Matthew. “Okay. Nice to meet you, [y/n].”

“Nice to meet you too.”

Matthew quickly ushered everyone upstairs. He showed your friends to the guest rooms, and while they were getting squared away, you waited in the hall patiently. He came up to you, your smiles mirroring each other’s, and the distance between you two was dangerously small.

“So, should I just set up my stuff out here? Lay down in the corridor?” You chuckled.

He shook his head, “Come on.” He grabbed your hand and your suitcase, and led you down the hallway. He pulled you into a bedroom on the right, set your stuff down on the mattress, and closed the door. 

“This is my room?” You asked.

“It sure is,” he nodded. “And the best part about it is that, there’s a room right next door.” He took slow strides up to you, a smirk on his face. You let him wrap his arms around you waist, pull you close. “And... tonight, or, every night this week, the door to that bedroom will be open. Real late at night. If you’d like to come check it out.”

“Oh, yeah?” You mumbled. 

“Yeah,” he put his forehead against yours, sighing. “I have to go talk to my mom. Be here when I get back.” 

“I might be,” you shrugged, watching him as he separated his body from yours. He gave you one last smile before leaving. 

Downstairs, Matthew’s mom was cleaning up the living room, talking to his roommate Steve. Matthew took a seat on the couch, kicking his feet up on the table. “Hey, my love! Is everyone settled in?” She asked Matthew. 

“Yeah, yeah, they’re getting there,” he replied.

“And your girlfriend?” She added.

He cut his eyes up to her, then Steve. Steve was chuckling under his breath. “I don’t have a girlfriend, mom.” 

“Oh? [y/n]’s not your girlfriend?”

“What? No,” he shook his head. “No. She’s not.”

“She’s new. I’ve never met her before.”

“Yeah...well, she...she’s my...uh—“

“Are you guys...are you...” His mom hesitated. He looked up at her, confused, until she raised her eyesbrows at him suggestively. 

“Oh, God, mom! Don’t ask me that!” He groaned, hopping up from the couch.

“I’ll explain.” Steve directed at Matthew’s mother. Matthew stopped in his tracks, and look at Steve, his arms crossed. “Matthew’s in love with [y/n].” 

“What?” Matthew shouted. “I am not—why would you say that?” His face turned bright red, the words flailing from his lips in jumbled stutters. 

“Oh, you really like her,” his mom grinned. 

“I don’t!” Matthew’s voice squeaked. 

“Matthew, I saw the way you two looked at each other. I saw how you came in with her, how you introduced her. You like her.”

“I’m hungry. Who’s hungry? I’m gonna see if everyone wants to go out for dinner.” Matthew rambled as he left the room. 

Matthew didn’t speak to you much throughout the day. He let you ride in his car, but not in the front seat. He started to pull the chair out for you at dinner, but played it off like that wasn’t his intention. It was his idea to show you all a nearby bar, and there, he was knocking drinks back, partying with friends, joking around. When you smiled at him, he pretended not to notice, and ducked his head down. And while your friends were keeping you plenty happy, you suddenly didn’t feel like being out anymore. 

You took an uber back to Matthew’s house, alone, and let yourself in through the back door as he had mentioned earlier. It was nearly two in the morning, pitch black, and you wound up getting lost upstairs. You waltzed into your room, at least you thought so. But when you opened the door, you came face to face with a room covered in movie posters, decorated with spooky trinkets. There was a blue undertone, a full size bed pushed against the wall and it smelled of smoke and mint. 

“You found it.”

“Ah!” You jumped, and turned around. “Fuck,” you huffed. “I’ve gotta get you a bell or something. What the hell, Matthew?”

“Why’d you leave tonight?” Matthew asked, stepping in and closing the door.

“I was tired. I wanted to sleep.” You shrugged. 

“In here?”

“I got lost. I can leave,” you sighed, and started heading for the door. 

Matthew grabbed onto your waist, and pulled your body into his. “What’s up, princess?” 

“Nothing. What’s up with you?” You scoffed. 

“What’s the supposed to mean?”

“You’ve been weird tonight! Why? Is it your mom? Are you — are you not comfortable with me being here?” 

“What? That’s crazy—“

“No, it’s not. Maybe me being here was a bad idea.” 

Matthew sighed, and ran his fingers through your hair. He turned away and walked up to his dresser, “You wanna know one reason I’m so excited to have you here?” 

You stared at the ground shyly, “Why?” 

He rummaged through his things, pulling out a small object that he craddled in his hands. “Because here...I have this.” He held up a sleek, professional looking camera.

You eyed it, stumped, “A go-pro?” 

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “Thought we could put it to use.” 

You tried to stifle your grin, “Put it to use?”

“Yeah. Let’s make a movie.”

You laughed dryly, “A movie?” 

“Yeah. A dirty one.” 

“Um...no!” You exclaimed. 

“Why not?” 

“Because...icky.”

He chuckled, “It’s not icky. It’s the same thing we always do. Just caught on film. C’mon, please? Pleeeease? I’ll make it tasteful.”

You rolled your eyes and exhaled, eyeing him intently. “Fine,” you agreed. “But, I have one condition.” 

“Name it.”

His bed was comfortable, soft. It permanently smelled like him. You laid on your back, your dress pushed up your thighs, and your panties laid on the floor. You held the tiny camera in your hands and had the lense aimed between your legs. You tried not to moan too loudly, Matthew working his mouth on you underneath the bed sheets. He was putting on a performance, twirling his tongue on your clit, sucking on it, humming in delight. 

You couldn’t help but touch his nose, admiring the way it sat on his face and grazed against your pelvis. You pressed your fingertip onto the bridge of his nose and ran it down to the tip, smiling down at him. He opened his eyes and peered in the camera. Watching on the camera screen, you couldn’t help but gasp at the sight of his irises, his gaze filled with intensity and lust. 

You tangled your fingers in his hair, your thumb tracing his cheekbone, “Come suck on my tits.” You commanded. 

He grinned, and he quietly began to kiss up your stomach. You kept the camera close to his face, capturing his every move. His tongue swirled around your nipple, and you had to push his hair out of his face to catch the action. The camera picked up the sound of your whimpers, the sight of Matthew gropping your breasts, his lips on you. 

Matthew kissed a trail up to your neck, sucking on your skin, so you could angle the camera and get a nice little shot of the two of you bundled up. “Give me this,” he whispered, taking the camera from your hand. 

He sat back and filmed himself undoing his pants, pulling his cock out and stroking himself. “Want me to fuck you?” He asked, and angled the camera at your face. You looked into the lense and nodded, twirling your hair on your finger. 

He bit down on his lip, pointed the camera back down at his cock, and pushed the tip into you. He listened to the wet sound of him sinking inside of you, pulling out halfway and them slamming back in. You tensed up and gripped onto the duvet cover, gasping. He immediately focused the camera on your face, watching through the screen as he pounded into you. 

“Fuck,” you muttered, your eyes rolling back. Matthew was practically drooling over you, huffing and puffing as he writhed on top of you. His shoulder were too far away for you to grab onto, but you dug your nails into his torso. You face was laced with pleasure and estacy, sweat forming on your forehead, your lips parted slightly. 

Matthew’s other hand held onto your face, his thumb tracing over your bottom lip. He continued to record your face as his thumb slid into your mouth. 

“Look at me,” he begged. “Look at me.”

Your eyes flickered up the camera, your lips tightened around his thumb and he nearly exploded. “Oh, God, you’re so hot,” he huffed. “You’re so fucking hot, princess.”

You whimpered against his skin, your jaw dropping down to release strangled moans. His hand dropped down to cup your boob, massage it between his fingers. He centered the camera on your chest, watching as your boobs bounced up and down. The camera followed his hand down to your clit, and he recorded himself fucking you and rubbing the sensitive nerve. You trembled underneath his touch, beginning to fall apart. 

“You gonna come, baby?” He panted, camera pointed at your face. You nodded quickly, your face hot, your lip caught between your teeth. “Come on, come on my cock.”

His voice sent you over the edge, and the camera caught everything. You — quivering, groaning, moaning, gritting your teeth. It set Matthew on fire. He fucked you through your orgasm, until you were melting into the mattress. His hips bucked into you sloppily, and aggressively, now videoing his cock with the camera. 

He moved the camera perfectly, capturing the moment he pulled out and came on your dress. His hand moved quickly to jerk himself off, until every last drop was on the fabric. He crumbled into a fit of breathy groans, hunching over and trying to catch his breath. 

“My dress,” you whined.

“Well,” he sighed, shutting the camera off. “Guess you’ll just have to take it off then.” 

By the time spring break was over, the two of you had made 5 videos. The number of times you fucked, however, was much greater. You were grateful for an opportunity to get back at him for every hickey he’d given you in the past. You constantly left marks on him that he had to hide from his mother, and you enjoyed every second of his squirming. Feeling much looser and more relaxed in Vegas, the two of you fell into a comfortable rhythm. Still secretive, still sneaky, just...less. You even got up the courage to sit on his lap in front of everyone, and no one said a word. 

They did, however, let you sit with him on the plane ride home. 

Matthew gave you a kiss on the cheek before you headed back to your dorm. You stepped up to your front door, took in a deep breath, and stared at the peephole. You weren’t ready. Ready to tell Claire everything that had happened. Even though there was no one in the world you wanted to tell more. But she had made her feelings about the situation very clear, and you had to respect that. So, instead of facing up to her right away, you left. You didn’t even think about why, or where you were going. Because the destination was obvious.

“[y/n]?” Matthew said as he answered the door. He looked down, noticing your suitcase still at your side. “Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, I, uh, locked myself out the room. Can I stay here for a bit? Just until Claire gets back.” You asked.

“Yeah, of course,” he nodded, letting you into the suite. 

You got to his room and instantly crashed on his bed, feeling so comfortable. “Jet lag?” He laughed.

“Amongst other things.”

“You really need to let your body adjust to the time change.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, pulling the covers over your body and snuggling into the pillows. He laughed at you, and sighed. Then he crawled into bed with you, and you let him hold you close. Thinking you were falling asleep, Matthew lightly ran his fingers down your cheek. It was soft and gentle and felt nice. And you desperately wished for a way to have this. To have him. Without losing your best friend.

But things between you and Claire just got worse. 

Over the next few weeks, she not only kept you at arms length, but Matthew as well. Despite living with you, she found creative ways to keep your conversations short and brief, and oftentimes would leave before you got back from Matthew’s. And despite being Matthew’s friend, she managed to avoid him at every party, every class. It just sucked. Because you were so, so happy, and then there was Claire. 

“We have to move out,” she grumbled as she entered the room.

“What?” You were stocking your mini fridge, but stopped to look at her. 

“They’re kicking us out because of this goddamn virus! Fuck!” She shouted. 

“What? Where’d you hear that?” 

“The school just sent out an email.”

You rushed over to your bed, grabbing your phone off your mattress. The email notification popped up, causing a vibration in your hand, and you opened the app right away. All NYU students to be moved out of campus housing by Sunday.

“Sunday?” You shouted. “Sunday? They expect me to pack all my shit in 4 days?”

Claire would’ve responded, but she was too busy already getting her stuff together, and you were occupied with rampant thoughts about, well, everything. You’d have to pack. Everything. Clear out your room. You’d have to call home. Have someone help. Fuck. You’d have to live at home. Home. For months. You couldn’t go out on campus, couldn’t see your friends, your friends!

Matthew. Oh, God. Matthew. 

He crossed your mind everyday for the next 2 days, as you packed your room into boxes and bags. He didn’t attempt to contact you, probably too busy with his own packing. Your family would be picking you up Saturday morning. So, you felt it best to go say goodbye on Friday. 

It was almost midnight, and you had just finished packing. You stood outside of Matthew’s bedroom door for a long time, after having been let in by his suitemate. Before you could knock, the door swung open and the two of you nearly collided. 

“Oh! [y/n].”

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he mumbled. “I was just on my way to see you.”

“You were?”

“Yeah.”

“I, uh, I’m leaving tomorrow morning. So, I wanted to come say...goodbye.” The words were hard to push out, and they hit Matthew even harder. His heart sunk to his stomach, and he wanted to do anything, anything, to make it go away. 

He grabbed onto your face and pulled you into a passionate kiss. You instinctively gripped onto his shirt, your face contorted in shock and confusion. He pulled you into the room, slamming the door behind you. 

“Matthew,” you whispered, but he continued to press his lips to yours. “Matthew.” You repeated as he began to kiss your neck. Your legs started to go weak, your breathing sped up. “Matthew, wait.”

He stopped abruptly and looked you in the eye, your face in his palm. “What is it?”

“I just—“ you sighed. “Are you okay?”

He digested the words for a second, looking down at you with a soft gaze. He kissed you once again, arms now around your waist, chest pressed against yours. You gave in. You both needed this. 

It was hungry. Eager. Clothes were torn off in less than a minute. Matthew pushed you onto the bed, tangled his fingers in your hair and devoured your body. He left a trail of hickies from your neck, to your chest, to your rib cage. The sensation was so overwhelming that you couldn’t do anything but stare at the ceiling, attempting to control your breathing. 

Soft kisses on your thighs led to an intense session of him eating you out, him pressing you against his face, his tongue encircling your clit. You rolled your hips against his mouth, gasping his name and pulling his hair. He worked himself to the brink, his jaw going numb, until you cried out his name as you came. It was an other-worldly, hypersensitive, super sonic orgasm. And it took you a minute to recover. 

His body laid on top of yours, his lips on your neck, his torso between your legs. You whined into your mouth as he pressed his dick in you, slowly, gently, until he was buried inside you. You could feel his arm muscles contracting and relaxing under your touch. His breath hit your shoulder with each quiet groan that escaped his lips. He put his forehead against yours, watching your face as he moved in and out of you at a steady pace.

You hummed softly, and kissed his lips, then his cheek, then his neck. His mouth dropped open, and he couldn’t stop himself from moaning. “Oh, my God, [y/n],” he panted. He never said your name to you. Ever. Very rarely. Especially not in bed. And it tore you apart. You held onto him for dear life and looked him in the eye as you massaged your clit.

Your moans increased in volume together, both of you nearing your release at once. You whimpered uncontrollably, your eyes fluttering closed. You couldn’t see Matthew watching you, but he was. He watched the way your hair framed your face, your expression of pleasure. He placed soft kisses all over your face, and the moment he caught your lips on his, you came. You accidentally bit down on his lip, and he let out a weak moan.

“S-sorry,” you whispered. 

“It’s okay,” he nodded. “It’s okay. Are you okay?”

“I’m okay. Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, baby.”

He followed his words with a grunt, slamming himself into you. Your chests rubbed against each other’s, the bed squeaked along with the movement of Matthew’s hips. His moans became breathy, vulnerable, and he proactively pulled himself out of you. You dazedly reached down and stroked his cock, watching his face as he trembled. He said your name again, faintly, very faintly, in a fit of moans as he released himself onto your stomach. 

You were sticky and sweaty and gross — both of you — but you held each other close, panting and wheezing. 

You spent the night at his dorm for the first time that night. The two of you slept cuddled up, his head on your chest, your arms wrapped around each other. At six in the morning, you woke up and slid out of bed without waking Matthew. You kept your vision away from him as you got dressed. And when you were ready to go, you turned to him and admired him.

He looked peaceful, soft. You wanted nothing more than to wake him up, stay in bed with him for hours. But you couldn’t, and you wouldn’t. So you gave him a kiss on top of his head, and you left.

[PART 6.]

[whats-rambled-rambled]

Stuck in reverse - pt 5

Neil x Reader

Chapter 5: Someone like you

(<- see Chapter 4, 3, 2, 1)

summary: camping, watching sunsets, oh - and Neil plays a guitar

warnings: is beer an alcohol? Language. Feels. Lots of feels.

author’s note: when did we stop putting lyrics into fanfics? I miss that! Del Amitri - Tell Her This is one the three songs that inspired me to write this story in the first place.

Enjoy and let me know what you think!

---

As you were adjusting the straps of your backpack, you heard your team hollering happily by the van’s trunk. You shot a glance at their direction. Neil was just taking out his own backpack and you noticed a familiar shape next to him.

He brought the guitar.

You snickered at yourself, because that meant you were officially, royally screwed.

“Oi, mate, you plan on stealing some poor girl’s heart with this thing?” a young medic teased and nudged your friend’s shoulder.

Neil snorted and looked directly at you. “Maybe,” he said as an innocent smile appeared on his face. Then he winked.

Son of a bitch.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, but the corner of your lips twitched.

___

The trail went mostly through the forest. The fog in the air, leaves rustling under your feet, the smell of resin and mushrooms – every step made you more and more relaxed. You tuned out your teammates’ chatter and just focused on taking in the views. You were still a bit tired after the previous night, not really in the mood for talking. The sadness was gone though, replaced by peaceful contentment.

You reached your destination in the afternoon and spent some time setting up the camp on a small clearing in the woods. The team set up nine small tents in a circle, leaving some place for a campfire in the middle.

You were halfway through unpacking the cool box when your phone buzzed. You raised your eyebrows when you noticed it was a text from Neil. You looked around, but you couldn’t see him anywhere. You opened the message only to find a set of coordinates there.

___

“Well, that certainly is a dramatic sunset, all right.”

Neil was standing at the edge of the cliff overlooking the valley. He jumped at the sound of your voice, turned around and greeted you with a wide grin on his face.

“Oh just wait until you see the view from up here,” he laughed and waved his hand to make you join him there.

You crossed your arms. “Nope, thanks, I’m perfectly good here.”

“Fine, you chicken, you’re missing out though,” he teased and turned his back to you.

You shook your head, annoyed at his comment. “Damn, I hate you so much sometimes,” you said through the gritted teeth and made few steps in his direction, still keeping your distance from the rim.

Neil started laughing and looked at you over his shoulder. “No, you don’t.”

You didn’t know why that thought made you this agitated, but you could feel your whole body getting tense. “What, you wanna tell me you remember the ridiculous way I take my coffee but you don’t remember that I am terribly scared of heights?”

Neil’s shoulders dropped when he noticed the angry look in your eyes. “I’m sorry, I thought-… You seemed okay when we were parachuting in Canada.”

You sighed. Yep, that was it. He’d moved in with Nikki few weeks before that mission, so he wasn’t there when you were sitting on the bathroom’s floor, barfing your guts out because you were so terrified and anxious. Only switching into your mission mode allowed you to survive that day without breaking down in front of everyone.

“Fake it till you make it, huh?” you laughed bitterly. “Nah man, I can push through it in the field, but after hours?” - you shrugged - “I’m useless.”

Neil opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but then shook his head, reached out his hand and smiled lightly. “Do you trust me?”

Of course you did.

You took his hand and let him guide you toward the edge of the cliff. You could feel your knees shaking and your breath became shallow.

Neil was closely watching your reaction, trying not to push you too far out of your comfort zone too soon.

“Few more steps and we’ll sit down, I promise,” he said softly.

You squeezed his hand and nodded.

Neil sat down and pulled you next to him before you had a chance to peek down the precipice. You looked around and gasped at the view. The river wound through the valley, reflecting the colours of the sun, which was slowly hiding its face behind the top of the mountains up ahead.

“I told you so.”

You chuckled, too mesmerized by the scene in front of you to say anything. You leaned back and sighed happily. With the corner of your eye, you could see Neil looking at you with a shade of a smile on his lips before he turned his head and focused on the sunset.

You both watched in silence the sky changing into more orange and purple tones.

Suddenly you felt a change in Neil’s mood. He was pinching his left hand’s little finger, lost in his thoughts. He must have noticed your gaze, because he took a deep breath, as if he was bracing for something.

“Why did you leave?” he asked quietly.

“What?”

Not that you didn’t know what he meant. You knew exactly what he was asking about, but you weren’t sure if you were ready to have that conversation.

“Why did you leave?” he repeated his question, still not looking in your direction. “...Back then.”

The sadness in his voice took you by surprise.

“Neil, I-” you hesitated, fighting the urge to laugh it all up and change the subject. But he deserved to know. “Look, you were so happy and so in love, you’d put all your time and energy into your new relationship and that was okay. I just wanted to give you a bit of space.”

His eyes darted at you as he scoffed in disbelief. “A bit of-...By completely disappearing? I thought that our friendship was stronger than that.”

That accusation hit you hard, so without thinking twice you blurted, “Hey, you didn’t call me either.”

The painful look in his eyes made you regret saying that almost instantly. God, it hurt, and it’s been eating you alive all those years, but you just knew-

“That’s not fair.”

You pulled up your knees and wrapped your arms around them. He was right.

“I know, I’m sorry,” you said softly. “Look, from the bottom of my heart, I was genuinely happy for you both. Really. But-...” you sighed heavily. You felt light-headed, knowing what you were about to say. You desperately wanted to get it all out once and for all. Even if jumping from that cliff seemed like a more pleasant option at that moment. “...at the same time it did hurt like bitch,” you ended quietly. There, you said it.

The silence was deafening.

You shot a quick glance at Neil. He was staring at you with his mouth open, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Why-”

You looked into his blue eyes, hoping he would see the answer in yours.

“Please don’t make me say it,” you whispered, barely holding your emotions at bay.

Neil’s eyes widened as he gasped quietly in sudden realization. You could almost see him finally connecting all the dots in his mind. His expression was a mixture of shock and dread.

“Jesus, Y/N, but you never- why didn’t you say-”

Ah, that was the easiest question.

“Because I valued our friendship more than...” - you took in a shaky breath, fighting the tears welling up in your eyes - “...than that and I didn’t wanna risk it.”

No, the irony of that whole mess wasn’t lost on you, but you were glad Neil decided not to point it out. His intense stare was unbearable though.

You stood up, unable to bring yourself to stay any longer, terrified of what you might hear next.

“I have to go, I’m in charge of the food today,” you muttered and turned away to walk back to the camp.

“Y/N-”

Your heart clenched painfully in your chest. You pinched the bridge of your nose and shook your head, not looking back. “Neil, please. It’s just- I can’t do this right now.”

The short walk to the camp gave you enough time to pull yourself together. The policy is to suppress echoed in your mind and it helped you put the cap on your bottled emotions and to shove them back into the deepest corner of your heart. The rest of the crew was sitting around the campfire, listening to Seb’s story about his recent cinematic discoveries. You let him finish his rant before you joined them.

“Who’s hungry?” you asked, rubbing your hands together. Seeing your squad’s enthusiastic reactions put a smile on your face. “Okay, I need more hands for this!”

As you were giving instructions to Ira and Elliot over the cool box, you noticed Neil coming out of the forest. You saw Wheeler walking up to him and asking something, but he just shook his head, patted her on the shoulder, grabbed a beer from a bucket and sat down near the campfire.

Two hours later, most of the food you’d prepared was gone. The group switched to drinking and singing along to Neil’s guitar. You included, the atmosphere of camaraderie grounding you in the moment. After covering few of the classics, Neil started taking the requests.

“Hey, how about Passenger and Let her go?” said Wheeler, smirking.

Neil’s lips pressed into a thin line as he glared at her. If looks could kill, she’d be dead right then. For a moment it seemed like they were having a short non-verbal argument, then Neil sighed, clearly defeated. He put on a brave face though and played the first few chords.

What the hell was that about?

The rest of the guys whooped and joined him singing the lyrics. As the song progressed, you could swear Neil’s face became sadder, and by the end of the song you could feel a lump in your throat. The tenderness in his voice when he sang the last lines took your breath away.

//Only know you love her when you let her go

And you let her go//

The image of Nikki flashed before your eyes and you got up to grab another beer.

“All right guys,” Neil laughed and downed his bottle, frowning slightly. “Speaking of- ...let me choose the next one.”

Of course you recognized that song. Bloody hell. You remembered the first time you heard it, that winter afternoon, Neil and you snuggled under a blanket on his couch, watching the latest episode of your then-favourite TV show, and you slowly falling in love with the music, the lyrics… and your best friend in the whole world.

//Tell her not to go

I ain't holding on no more

Tell her something in my mind freezes up from time to time//

“You know that all this time I had no idea you are that childhood friend that broke his heart?”

Your heart sank at those words. Wheeler was standing right next to you with her arms crossed, a smug expression on her face. Your jaw dropped and you looked over your shoulder at Neil. Nobody seemed to know that song, so he just kept singing alone, smiling sadly.

//Tell her not to cry

I just got scared, that's all

Tell her I'll be by her side, all she has to do is call//

Your mind went blank, not allowing you to fully grasp what you’d just heard. “Me neither,” you said under your breath.

Wheeler snickered at your shocked face. “Apparently.” She placed her hand on your shoulder, squeezing it lightly and went to her tent, leaving you standing there alone.

You turned around and noticed Neil looking at you, the fire flickering in his eyes.

//Tell her not to go

I ain't holding on no more

Tell her nothing if not this: all I want to do is kiss her//

You held your breath, your hands were shaking. The thought appeared on your mind, but you were too scared to take it seriously.

What if he really meant it?

Why were you doing this to yourself? Enough. You left the camp and headed to the stream in the woods. You splashed the cold water on your face and sighed heavily.

“You have no idea how many times I wanted to call you.”

There he was, leaning against the tree, his hands in the pockets, his face tense and serious.

“One day I woke up and realized that you were gone. Days were passing by and it was getting more and more difficult.” Neil gritted his teeth in frustration as he looked away. “Goddammit, I thought you were mad at me, or hated me for some reason,” he exhaled slowly and fixed his gaze on you. “Or that you didn’t care anymore. I just tried to make some sense of it all. Believe it or not,” - he laughed bitterly - “I wanted to give you some space too.”

You wanted to laugh at that comeback, but a little sob escaped your mouth instead. The pain in his eyes was breaking your heart into a million little pieces. The tears were slowly getting mixed with the water on your face so you tried to wipe them with the back of your hand as you walked up to him.

“Neil, I’m sorry,” you said quietly and pulled him into a hug.

Neil wrapped his arms around you and buried his face in your hair, trembling lightly as he let out a shaky breath.

“The thought that I lost you for good was-” his voice broke before he could finish the sentence.

You pulled back so you could look at him. The tenderness of his expression made your heart skip a bit. Neil pressed his forehead into yours and closed his eyes.

“Jesus, I was so stupid. I’m so sorry,” he said softly.

You were lost for words, so you just shook your head lightly and placed a hand on his cheek, stroking it slowly with your thumb. Neil fixed his eyes on yours as he brushed a strand of hair away from your face.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered and sighed, biting his lip.

You chuckled lightly and smiled. Your fingertips slowly traced down his jawline, your heart pounding in your chest. “I’ve missed you, too.”

Neil tilted his head as he pulled you closer. Then he kissed you like there was no tomorrow and nothing else mattered anymore.

(next Chapter ->)

((bonus chapter ->))

[nitannichionne]

LUNA IV Chapter 5: Roles  (Henry Cavill Syverson Fan Fic)

Chapter 5

“We need to talk.”

You shake your head as you work on the garden. He gave it to you as a project to do. You liked it instantly because it was something you did for fun before your life changed. There were certain things your father liked to do with you at home when he wasn’t on a mission, and this was one of them. You like the feel of earth in your hands, and how you could pound it and shift it, and make something grow from it. You had great talks in the garden while planting it, watering it, and finally walking it or harvesting it. It was becoming your little world away from the one you got dropped in.

You must stay away from him, no matter how much you want him, you tell yourself everyday while you’re there. The plan is to get away from him, not curl into his arms, not to succumb to his kisses, even if he is compassionate, even if he feels good, even if his voice lulls you in the night when you wake up. It had happened again last night, and you fight the memory:

You awaken with a cry, shaking with tears streaming down your face. The dream-the flashback-had happened again:

Marette was coming at you in your own home, telling you that you were his. You tell him you’re not. He tells you it’s the law. You tell him fuck the law, and your father left you your fortune. He laughs and comes at you, telling you that he is going teach you a lesson that you father didn’t. The fight ensues, and he underestimates your abilities, all your father taught you. The room becomes a war zone, and everything is a weapon as far as you’re concerned. You throw things at him to keep him at bay, and he laughs. He lunges for you and you get out of the way. You pick up a chair and he grabs the other end, but your struggle gets you closer the weapons cabinet. He wrenches it away from you and takes your body to the floor. You feel your clothes rip and you clap his ears. You back away, scrambling for the cabinet. He catches your leg, and you fight, but he’s strong, pulling you to him. You feel him on your back and he squeezes your breast so hard you scream in pain. You roll him over and head butt him, using the moment his grip on you loosens to roll and scramble to your feet. You dive over the couch, away from the weapons cabinet to your father’s desk. You jump over it, and open the drawer. He always had a weapon there. You grab it just as you feel Marette’s body take you to the ground again. You struggle as he tries to disarm you, your fingers fumbling between you for the gun. BANG!

His body is heavy on yours. You push him off, see his expressionless face. You back away from him as if he may spring back to life any moment. You bump into the wall and one of your father’s military jackets fall over you. Your life is over and you know it. You curl yourself in it, still holding the gun, and cry.

In the darkness you awaken from the memory, weeping and trembling. Then you feel a warm embrace, you feel a hand at your back rubbing you. You curl into these arms, and then freeze, realizing this could be no one you know. You look up and see Syverson’s face.

Your mind’s eye closes and you see Syverson standing over you with that same look on his face.

“What?”

“Whatever happened to you, I’m sorry,” Sy ground out. “I feel as if there is so much more to your story—”

Your eyes fly to his. “There is more to everyone’s story, here.”

“There is?”

“Yes, like Gabrielle,” you say her name. “She’s here because she stole food, because she was hungry.”

“I got that feeling when I saw her,” Sy says softly. “I swear to you she is in gentle hands.”

“Oh, I can imagine,” you hiss angrily, and go back to turning the soil with your hands.

“Have I done something to you?”

You say nothing, because he has done nothing. A pattern had been established. You have been trying not to enjoy Sy’s smiles and comments about your cooking and cleaning, which usually surpassed his expectations. And in return--

His fingers and mouth brought you great relief and ecstasy. He knew you intimately, but you hadn't felt his hot hardness inside you since your first night. He comforted you when you had the nightmares, but sometimes you found herself wanting more. He would stroke your limbs every night, and you got used to it, even had trouble sleeping when he had to go if a crime occurred. You were on edge, starving for him, and he knew it, despite the cuffs he had attached to the bed that he adjusted to your size. After that, you’d been keeping conversation to a minimum and even that was killing you. His eyes silently asked you to talk, and so you stopped looking. But your body was a traitor. This morning you awakened with your arm and leg draped over him his muscular frame, your head over his heart. You even sniffed his neck as you awakened. He looked down at you and you got out of bed as fast as you could.

“Why aren’t you at work?” you ask, still tilling the soil.

“I’m working from home today.”

You sigh. So much for time to strengthen your reserve. “I could start lunch early.” You rise and assume an at ease position, deciding that he was not going to let her garden.

His eyes travel you. "I would like to take you to town today," he says quickly. "You should go every week for supplies." He watched you nod in understanding.

You avert your eyes, visibly bracing. "May I finish here?"

"You may not have enough time, it is best to go before the sun is too high." he nods, watching your eyes lower. "I will help you."

Alarms go off within you. "You don't have to—"

"Tend my own garden?" he smiles. "I haven't had time to do it, but I assure you, I know how. We can finish quickly, and still get to town before the sun is high." He is outwardly calm, but you sense tension and don’t know why. You both kneel side by side and get to work, loosening the soil and planting more seeds. "You know a great deal about running a household."

"Yes."

He takes a breath. "I am at a loss. I know why are you are here, but I don't know...why you are here."

You take a deep breath and exhale, "I don't belong here."

"Can you tell me what happened?"

You stab a hole it the shifted earth. "I killed a man—" you make eye contact with him. "In self defense."

"Go on."

"My father was very wealthy, very affluent," you decide to go back to work while you talk. "I was to be married in a year, and had just met my fiancée."

"An arranged marriage."

"He was a nice man," You defend. "I knew no one as kind as Kieran, except my father."

"Kieran?" Sy repeats, frowning. "Kieran Feloni?"

You nod.

His eyes widen with recognition. "Then that would make you—"

"Daughter of General Andari."

He stopped working. "Your father was one of the most admired and decorated warriors in the Luna System." His whole demeanor shows great respect. “I was saddened about his loss, I truly was. Good man.”

"Thank you," you nod, feeling his sincerity. "Don't know much about me, do you?"

"No, not really," he shook his head, feeling guilty. "Your stories were in the society section, I don't read that."

You nod in understanding. "Yes, that is how they did it." You tensed, still concentrating on the work before you. "They took everything."

"Who?"

"Luna III," you nod. "Women can't have anything, remember?"

"They only ask you have a guardian—"

"I don't need one!" your anger flares, eyes sparking at his. "My father raised me to take care of myself. I was fine!"

"I heard that he died in a—"

"They died," Your voice wavers, and you go back to concentrating on the planting. You realize you have finished planting the seedling in front of you, and shift quickly before he can touch you. "They took everything away from me...in trust till I found a new guardian." You pause, starting a new row. "One was picked for me. I didn't want him. He tried to take over—take me—it was me or him."

"And?"

"I am my father's daughter." You smirk darkly at him, vigorously stabbing the earth and dropping seeds in each hole, creating a rhythm. "Female I am, but my father taught me how to fight. Marette was stupid to think I'd let him—I warned him, told him to leave me...alone." You find your vision is blurring, your breath is heaving, and you stop.

"You'd never killed anyone."

You stab the ground so hard the hoe stands straight up in the soil. "I never had to!" She raised her eyes to him, her breath racing.

"Enough gardening today." He rises to his feet.

You stiffen. "Yes, I'm sure you've had enough digging around today." You lift your face to him defiantly as you rise to your feet even though your tears still fell.

"Time for a bath." Before you could say anything, he picks you up. He keeps a gentle but firm grip on you, anticipating resistance, but there was none, though she was stiff in his arms. He sets you down in the bathroom, turns on the water, and undresses you slowly. You say nothing. He undresses and pulls you in against him.

You put your palms on his chest, trying to keep some distance. "I can't wash this way." You don’t want to look at him.

He smiles gently. "It's alright. Let the water do some of the work, wash it away." You go rigid and he starts wetting your hair, smoothing the water over your head. "Close your eyes, relax..." He gently massages your scalp until you relax. He puts your head on his chest. "See?"

Your vision completely blurs as you try to hold in sniffs and sobs. He holds you closer as he takes a sponge from a small wall shelf and strokes your back, saying nothing. You hide your tears in the flow of water. You had not cried since the day law enforcement took you, the last time you held your father’s jacket. You realize he is too quiet and he is caressing more than bathing you. Does he know you’re crying? You hesitantly pull away.

Given access to the front of your body, he rakes your hair back gently, pulling it to tilt your head to his. He lowers his lips to yours, pressing gently. He withdraws, but only to wash your breasts and stomach, then kneels to wash your legs as well.But then, his mouth opens against the apex of your legs, his warm breath providing only a second's notice before his tongue slides between your lovelips, and you exhale in a half cry, half moan. You lean against the shower wall. His strokes are slow and deliberate, coaxing your legs to open more. He guides your hands to his head, and you massage his scalp as you pant under the flow of water, lost again in passion. He moans as drinks from you and then rises to his feet to pin you against the wall and lift you effortlessly onto his hips, his muscles exerting great care as he lowers her onto his erection. Your both moan, the sounds blending with the sound of flowing water as he lifts and lowers you again…and again…

Passion strips away roles as the water rinses you clean. You wrap your legs around him in surrender as he gently thrust into you, the movements becoming more urgent. You flex around him as he draws moans from you, your fingers digging into his shoulders and intensifying his release.

For moments after he holds you to him, he keeps you pinned against the shower wall as he strokes your arms and legs. He kisses your shoulder and you realize you have been rubbing the back of his head almost absently, naturally, your legs still wrapped around him. It was as if you aren't prisoner and warden at all.

"We are going to market?" you ask softly.

He draws back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. "Yes. I want the people in town to know you are with me and whatever you buy is on my account." He kisses your nose, and smiles at your confusion. His words do not sound like that of a warden. "Get dressed, alright?" He sets you down on your feet, and you wash quickly and get dressed.

Thanks for reading! Please let me know if you wish to be tagged, and comments are WELCOME. Please feel free to also check out other stories on my page.

Thanks @fckdeusername​ and @maan24 ! I thought no one was interested in this story!

[angelthefirst1]

Beth repeats everywhere.

Okay so I'm back and excited about the upcoming episodes and while bummed we didn't see Beth in 1016. I am super excited about where this is heading...

Even the title names are in your face Bethyl at this point, I mean... Home sweet home?

If the spoilers are accurate-it's actually a good thing...

*Ducks for cover (please don't throw things at me) 🥴🤕

So after a long but very needed break (The world falling apart kinda made analyzing TWD seem very unimportant) I have decided to climb out of my cave to weigh in on the current spoilers that have everyone acting like they just sat on a cactus. 🌵

If correct, these spoilers confirm to me that Beth is just about to be reintroduced and also confirm what i have been saying about how the story is told in TWD for years.

Season 9 and 10 especially has been repeating, major Beth season 4 and 5 plot. And, there is a reason it's getting more and more blatant. It's coming to a head...

We've seen Beth's story on repeat using other characters to remind us of the past, and show us the future to a degree too.

It's called predicative programming, showing a shadow of what's coming before it actually does.

So this Leah...even if she is "real" (more on this a little later) IS BETH showing aspects of the past to subconsciously remind us of past Beth, and aspects of what's to come for future Beth.

On the topic of what's real and what's not, there is a very good case to be made, that this is all in Mr Dixon's (And ultimately Rick's) head.

A bit further on I will go through some of the blatant repeats in the story to remind you just how 'in your face' the repeats from season 4/5 have become in season 9,10.

But first I want to talk through what I think is most likely happening with these potential spoilers.

I see a few possibilities out of this, but none of them are actually bad.

Scenario 1. Leah is real and her and Daryl have a relationship in that cabin.

Why isn't this bad?

This maybe a difficult concept for some to grasp as they see all the characters separately, but...the writers make the characters all one, by moving them in and out of repeating rolls.

So as I stated above, Leah is a Beth fill in and the reason we most likely won't actually see a full Leah and Daryl love scene on screen, is because it's shadowing the real love scene to come which will be with the main fulfillment, Beth.

Leah is the shadow reminding us of Alone and Still, but Daryl's memory, desire and hope are all about Beth, not Leah.

I mean come on... A Cabin? A Dog? Them not getting along to start but then hints of romance? They eat together? She leaves and is never mentioned until years later? and a note? In your face Bethyl.

And this leads into scenario number two...

I've often wondered if all these characters actually originate out of the 'real' Rick's mind (yes i know the comics don't end that way, but that doesn't mean the TV show isn't going down that road potentially)

While unconscious in his hospital bed, the character of Rick comes alive in his mind.

Some might not like this concept, but It does make sense of the constant repeats in story. Which can be likened to a dream state and inception.

If we have been in the character Rick's mind all this time, then once Rick's character "left" in the helicopter season 9, it became "Daryl's" mind we entered (He became the last man standing) and that's when the story shifted and became extremely Beth heavy.

We possibly entered into Daryl's subconscious instead of Rick's and instantly started getting HUGE Beth symbolism.

Why would Daryl's mind/subconscious be showing him in an almost identical setting to what we saw him and Beth in season 4, in Still and Alone but with someone else instead?

Because it seems he has suppressed her memory as much as possible to cope (Leah not being mentioned all this time is another clue that this is actually about Beth), but it's building and building to a climax, which should soon end in the truth exploding from his subconscious and finally revealing that Daryl loved and desires Beth.

Rick's story started and ended with "finding his family"-that was his repeating story.

And until he left and handed the reins over to "Daryl's mind" we were never going to access Daryl's subconscious enough for the truth about Beth to be revealed.

As soon as it becomes Daryl's characters mind in control, we immediately start seeing major Beth repeats beginning.

I'm going back over some major repeats from 9/10 to show you how obvious the repeating story has become.

This became long and it's only the really obvious stuff that I'll cover, there is way more that could be included, and it will become extremely obvious by the time we reach the end, that this IS Beth’s story, just remixed.

Further down i will also explain scenario number 3.

Repeats: Starting with season 9

As soon as Rick's helicopter files away over a barn (which is very similar to the barn Daryl weeps over Beth next to)

We see Magna who has been a major Beth fill-in with her blond hair and prison tattoo, and in a relationship with a dark haired archer.

We then meet grown up Judith with her braid and sheriffs hat.

We first see Daryl in season 9, as he comes across Carol and Henry in the woods

And he suddenly has a dog.

The camp site is a repeat of Beth and Daryl's "Suck-ass camp" from Still.

But having Dog there shows Daryl's desire to have Beth there. He desperately wanted to get her that dog in Alone.

Daryl kills a snake in suck-ass camp number 2 (it’s black and hanging around his neck)

Just like in Still...

Carol asks Daryl to take Henry to Hilltop because he wants to learn blacksmithing.

Daryl says he doesn't want to babysit. Repeating the sarcastic line Beth says to Daryl about being her chaperone.

Beth going to get something she wants (get alcohol)

Is Henry going to learn at the Hilltop blacksmith. In both cases Daryl does go with them even tho he initially protests.

Before they leave Henry hurts his ankle in a trap and Daryl provides an ointment to help it heal, a repeat of Beth's ankle in Alone and Daryl bandaging it for her.

Soon after we see Jesus get killed in a dark misty graveyard, Daryl's the one to immediately kill Jesus's murder. This was a combination of the Alone graveyard and Beth/Dawn at Grady.

We then see Henry get drunk on moonshine at Hilltop, and when Gage says they should have some more fun, his idea of fun is showing disrespect to the dead walker they trap in a pit. Henry kills it- just like Beth killing the walker in Still that Daryl was "having fun with".

Because of the moonshine Henry gets stuck in the cell block with Lydia (think Daryl saying "home sweet home") and in Still and Beth says "if we are going to be trapped (prisoners) again, might as well make the best of it".

We find out Lydia was abused like Daryl, and Henry keeps saying Lydia is a good person. Just like Beth and Daryl.

Henry and Lydia are young Beth and Daryl, who bond during this time in the cell block, they get separated due to the prisoner exchange with Alden and Luke.

The introduction of Alpha (An evil twisted Beth) who looks like she is dead. Same with Beta being Daryl with his double knives and who would follow Alpha anywhere. Their roles are reserved in that he is the musical one with a singing career and has released albums (sounds familiar to Emily right?).

Alpha is referred to as Mother by Lydia, and the whisperers refer to themselves as a pack (symbolic of wolf's) which is fulfillment of the song at the end of Still about 'Mother being absent' and a 'party when the Wolf comes home'.

We see the prisoner exchange (Luke and Alden for Lydia) from a nomad group and a fixed community. A repeat of Grady

We then see a Henry, Lydia rescue mission from Connie and Daryl in a building with a elevator shaft that Daryl pushes Beta into (Grady) repeating Beth pushing the officer down the elevator.

As Daryl and Beta fight, Daryl stabs him where Beth stabs Dawn.

Beta keeps yelling at Daryl "Where is she?" Daryl then stabs Beta in the same spot as Beth stabs Dawn. Repeating Daryl's desperate search for Beth from season 5 and how it ends.

Just before Beta gets pushed into the elevator he says "All I want is the girl", referring to Lydia but it shows Daryl's subconscious desire when going to Grady was just wanting the girl too (Beth).

The song at the beginning of 914 when pregnant Michonne is looking for Rick, is about dream catchers and dreaming. Which could be a hint at this being a dream state.

The episode also repeats the theme from the Grove, messed up children (Lizzy) willing and even happy about killing (Mica). The episode focuses on children killing dear just like The Grove and Josalin teaches them they must be strong, not weak just like Carol taught the kids in season 4. The timeline in this episode includes Henry getting his leg patched up at Alexandria with Lydia (another repeat of Beth's ankle injury) which would have happened around the same time as the events in the Grove.

We see Miles and Hilda running from walkers through the woods, him wearing plaid and her a cardigan just like Beth and Daryl in Still/Alone

They just happen to come across somewhere safe (Hilltop) but that eventually leads to her being scalped and Miles gets his face turned into a whisperer mask so he effectively ends up "walking around like a dead man" which is a reminder of what Len says to Daryl in season 4 referring to Daryl being miserable due to losing Beth.

Connie and Kelly fight about Connie not saying goodbye when she leaves with Daryl to rescue Henry. A reminder of  Beth and Daryl's conversation about not saying goodbye at the prison.

When next we see Beta and Daryl realises he survived being pushed into the elevator shaft.

Beta says to Daryl "You just had to give me the girl, no one else had to die, now that deal is done".

Same theme and mentality of Daryl when planning to rescue Beth from Grady.

He wanted everyone to go home and no one to die so he rejected Rick's plan of quietly slitting everyone's throats and hoped for a peaceful trade . But once Beth was lost to him, that deal was done and he instantly opens fire on Dawn.

The whisperers then kill Henry and the other's by quietly sneaking into Kingdom, taking them, and eventually slitting their throats and cutting their heads off.

All because they couldn't get Lydia back. The tactics were reversed. And in both situations the main Dr was not killed (Edwards and Siddiq)

Henry is killed and Lydia is miserable enough to almost commit suicide while the group is traveling through a snow storm from Kingdom to Alexandria. This is a repeat and reverse of the group traveling from Alexander in a heat wave and drought while Daryl was miserable.

Season 10

We see Siddiq keep having flashbacks about those that were killed at the fair.

Negan in prison at Alexandria is a repeat of Beth as a prisoner in Grady.

In 10.02 (1010) we get Alpha and Beta's back story from 7 years earlier. They are both in a addiction treatment Facility with hallways reminiscent of Grady, Beta has written on the walls 'Why am I STILL ALONE'. hint much?

Alpha tells Beta that she doesn't die easily. A repeat of Beth telling Daryl that even tho he looks at her like just another dead girl, she isn't.

Alpha starts singing/humming when she hears Beta humming and he tells her to stop singing and never do it again. Repeating Daryl yelling at/mocking Beth about her singing in Still, and a reverse of Alone when he tells her to keep on singing.

Beta asks for Alpha's name and she responds with "The dead don't have names". Reinforcing the theme from Still of Beth telling Daryl that she knows he sees her as just another dead girl, and that's why he's afraid to get too close to her.

We see the introduction of the whisperer sisters (twisted versions of Maggie and Beth from season 4/5) one of which-a blond, has just lost a baby (Beth and Judith) and she eventually dies.

Beta and Alpha talk about what the dead feel, Alpha says "nothing" repeating Beth yelling at Daryl "Do you feel anything?"

Later we find out Beta's brother was being treated in that facility for addiction, repeating Daryl telling Beth about Merle and how he was always high. Alpha is the one to kill Beta's brother, repeating Beth telling Daryl "You got away from it" meaning Merle and his influence, and Beth's insistence on him staying who he is, kept him from becoming his brother.

The very next scene is current time and shows Beta telling Alpha (Just after the satellite hits) that he saw smoke at the boarder. Insinuating the fire from the satellite also represents the fire from the cabin in Still which was also right after Beth and Daryl's talk about Merle and how he got away from him.

Alpha and Beta then interlock fingers just like Beth and Daryl in Alone.

The Whisperer sisters also have a conversation about how Alpha killed Lydia (which she lied about) and Alpha told them that she didn't shed one tear when Lydia died. One of the whisperer sisters says "She is Alpha, she doesn't cry."  repeating Beth's "I don't cry anymore Daryl".

Beta finds out Alpha lied about Lydia being dead and yells at her "she is never coming back, she is GONE! Alpha." Repeating Daryl and Rick's conversation about Beth being just gone.

The beginning of 1003 shows Alexandria get wave after wave of walkers because of the fire from the Satellite (Sill cabin) which is a repeat of the walkers being drawn to the cabin while Beth and Daryl are still watching it burn. 413 opens with Maggie, Sasha and Bob fighting waves of walkers in the fog, and the Grove episode which happened on the same timeline showed burned walkers coming to the cabin Carol, Ty and the girls were in.

It's repeating that era.

The fighters at Alexandria are exhausted and Gabriel tells Aaron he has to use Negan to fight because they are low on fighters, he says pointing to Negan then Aaron "Peanut butter meet jelly" repeating the peanut butter Beth eats in Alone and Jelly Daryl eats.

Carol, Daryl and Michonne stay the night at Barnett academy home of the foxhound. Repeating the dog theme from Alone.

The description of the episode says "The group stays at the academy but Carol falls into a trap." Once again Repeating the Alone/foot trap/dog/Grady/trap theme.

Carol calls for Daryl to help her once she steps in the trap.

This trap causes Carol to fall and hurt her arm badly repeating Beth's arm injury from season 5 when she wakes up with her arm in a cast.

Rosita and Eugene have an argument about how he loves her, and he says that he wished she would would re-zone him into love town, and hoped she'd changed her mind. (Changed your mind? Love? Yeah not spelling this one out for you)

This same episode Carol "wakes up" smiling but actually dreaming of domestic bliss with Daryl preparing her food, they have run out of jam/jelly. Probably because Daryl ate it all lol (once again Alone on repeat)

1006 Carol and Daryl go looking for Negan (the missing prisoner) a repeat of consumed 506 with Daryl and Carol searching for Beth.

At the same time we see a focus on the doctors/medical ward of Alexandria due to the contaminated water making everyone sick. A reminder of Grady.

We also have Eugene on the radio broadcasting to try and reach a new community, which eventually leads to him and the others in 1016 ending up at the end of the train tracks with train cars and the meeting of a new group.

Which is repeating terminus, who were broadcasting on the radio too.

He is on a mission to meet the new potential love of his life (Stephanie) at the same time Daryl and Carol are out on their search for the missing prisoner.

We see the whisperer doctor (Dante) plant himself into Alexandria and he eventually kills the second doctor (Siddiq) repeating but twisting the Grady story of Dr Edwards using Beth to kill the new doctor that comes into Grady.

Before he kills Siddiq however, Dante uses poison and kill another whisperer who gets put in the jail cell at Alexandria, he then blames the mistaken medication that killed the whisperer on Siddiq. Repeating Dr Edwards poisoning the new Dr that came into Grady while blaming Beth.

Lydia runs away from Alexandria during the time Dante kills Siddiq.

While Lydia (the girl) is missing and no one knows where she is, father Gabriel oversees Siddiqs funeral. Repeating Ty's funeral from season 5 while no one knew what became of Beth. The funeral scene emphasizes the sprinkling of dirt into the grave just like we saw with Ty.

Next we see a father Gabriel watching a video log of Dante when he first arrived at Alexandria

repeating the groups from seasons 4/5 arriving at Alexandria and doing video logs with Diana.

Aaron and Gracie are seen taking about vehicle registration plates and the different states, repeating Aaron and Eric's obsession with collecting them all in season 4/5

While searching for Alpha, Carol almost steps in an animal trap and Daryl saves her. Another repeat of Beth's animal trap.

Soon after the animal trap, Carol then runs after Alpha leading the group into a trap in the cave, repeating her running into the trap at Grady and being hit by the car and the leading of the group to Grady.

While in the cave we see a bird cage, like we see in Beth's cell back at the prison, the bird cage representing her at Grady.

Carol is rash wanting revenge and stupidly drops the explosive causing the group to think Connie and Magna are dead. Beth at Grady rashly stabs Dawn, causing the group to think she is dead.

We next see a depiction of resurrection when Beta comes out the grave while sneaking into Alexandria.

Daryl and Alpha fight, Alpha after fighting with Daryl wakes up from passing out, she is reborn stronger.

Eugene takes to Rosita about the probability of never seeing Father Gabriel and the others from Alexandria again because Alpha's horde is coming to Hilltop. Rosita tells Eugene to stop, repeating Beth and Daryl's argument in Still about never seeing Maggie again and Beth yelling at him to stop.

Eugene and Rosita then share some alcohol (moonshine) depicting Beth and Daryl doing the same.

Rosita tells Eugene he has no romantic game which we all know applies to Daryl too.

Before the fight/fire at Hilltop, Daryl tells Judith that he is afraid a little bit. With Beth he wouldn't admit he was afraid of losing people, he cared about.

We then see Hilltop get drenched in a clear flammable liquid (tree sap) and set on fire (The Hilltop fire represents the cabin Daryl and Beth Burn)

The episode with Virgil and Michonne is fascinating and aspects in it, could well be repeated with Daryl and Leah. This episode could be a foreshadow of: Scenario number 3. It's in part a hallucination.

In the Virgil/Michonne episode we see Michonne get drugged and she sees what the past would have been like if she'd chosen a different road. She describes what she saw in her hallucinations to Virgil, as losing her family and that it was Hell to see.

Virgil has taken the drugged tea before and he describes it as heaven because it reunited him with his family and he hoped it would do that for her. After coming out of the hallucination, Michonne spares Virgil's life and that act, ends up leading her to Rick's boots

And the phone with the picture of her and Judith on it.

The end of the episode ends in Michonne going to "Find him."

So the theme at play is: a Hallucination, then having mercy could lead to clue of a lost loved one finding the other. Interesting...

The note Daryl apparently leaves Leah says "Find me".

If Daryl is in some kind of drugged state during this episode, it could combine his immediate situation (Leah actually being there) and his memory and desire of Beth in a similar setting (Alone). If this scenario plays out Leah could take something of Daryl's and the follow on effect may well lead Beth to a clue about Daryl, leading to her finding him.

Just putting this idea out there as the hallucination theme is reinforced in season 10 with Siddiq and in the very next episode when Carol hallucinates Alpha, just after Alpha has been killed. Princess also mentions not being sure if she is hallucinating or not when she meets Eugene, Ezekiel and Yumiko, and wonders if they are real. And Beta hallucinates the walkers all looking to him and saying "this is the end of the world".

So the Leah events maybe half true, half hallucination and this might be what leads to a clue and eventual reunion just as we assume Michonne's clues will eventually lead to a reunion with Rick.

After this episode the repeats in Bethyl themes get even more obvious.  

Beta takes Alpha's head and goes off on his own to listen to music (Emily's song, a love song with lyrics about going to Hell to find your missing girl) Beta makes a mask of half her face. She's with him even when she's gone.

The last words Beta says to Alpha are "Thank you, I see now, thank you". Repeating the thank you note and how she taught Daryl to believe there are still good people.

Eugene's group going into the city and then on to meet the new group at the train yard, is a mix of the group traveling to Atlanta to get Beth and also traveling to Terminus. Both times at the train tracks with train cars and the group ends up surrounded and with weapons pointed at them.

The hospital location in 1015 and 16 or "Tower" as they call it, and what happens especially with Judith and Daryl, is in my opinion the biggest clue we are close to her return.

The hospital is in your face Grady and it's meant to remind you of that time.

In the hospital we see Lydia patting cats

A reminder of the claimers and Joe the claimer leader asking Daryl if he was a cat person, just after losing Beth at the funeral home, but before Grady.

Lydia has just lost Henry, repeating that time. Also if you recall in season 4 just before the Daryl meets the Claimers, Michonne and Rick were separated he was injured and she eventually finds a clue to him and Carl. Michonne is currently looking for Rick again due to the clues she finds with Virgil.

Luke is working on fixing up a speaker system to play music. Music/Beth inside the hospital.

Outside the hospital, in the woods Judith finds Daryl and tells him she doesn't like it inside it smells like cat pee (another reminder of the claimers era) she then tells Daryl she wants to learn what he does.

Just like Beth learning to track, we even get Judith tracking and identifying what she tracks as a walker while Daryl looks on proudly.

The group's whole plan for 1016 is to safely get "The music" speaker system out of the tower/hospital, to lead the huge horde of walkers surrounds them away.

Exactly what we didn't get to see in the aftermath of Grady. Getting Beth (music) out of the hospital.

Carol putting the knife up her sleeve is repeating Beth putting the scissors in her cast.

Carol ends up getting her revenge without getting killed (Unlike Beth with Dawn) but ultimately it's Negan and Daryl that do the revenge killing for Carol and Beth. Carol says to Negan regarding killing Alpha" What took you so long", where as Daryl's reaction was instantaneous, in a split second and he had put a bullet in Dawn's head.

We also see Negan go down the elevator shaft with a rope, just like Beth did.

The music they play to get the walkers away from the hospital is "Burning down the house", another repeat of the Still cabin.

When Negan comes across Beta, Beta runs at him immediately to kill him. Pushing him down he pulls out his knife and is about to kill Negan as he say "For Alpha". Beta Repeating Daryl's instant revenge on Dawn.

The title of 1016 is A Certain Doom, which is actually what Coda should have been called, considering this episode actually went to plan (mostly) for our group. Hardly anyone dies, only Beatrice from Oceanside and they get rid of Beta and Alpha's horde.

Beta dies as Daryl kills him before he can kill Negan. As Beta dies we see Alpha flashbacks of her telling him, he is not broken, that they love nothing, fear nothing, feel nothing and it makes them free. This is the exact opposite of what Beth taught Daryl. She called him out on being afraid of feeling and loving/caring about others.

Season 9 and 10 culminates with Lydia (Daryl) saving Carol (Beth) from certain death, by not letting her go over the cliff with all the walkers.

And standing on the edge of the cliff watching the horde fall down-along with Alpha's mask, Lydia and Carol interlink hands, just like Daryl and Beth in front of the grave. The Grave Beth and Daryl stand in front of says Father, while Lydia and Carol are looking at the end of Mother (Alpha)

Hopefully soon we get to see the original version of all this, and not just a repeated shadow of Daryl unknowingly doing something that helped Beth survive in the aftermath of Grady.

The upcoming episodes have me itching to see, I'm already seeing more repeats from Alone, Coda and 510 to name a few.

Beth is absolutely spilling out of the story right now through all these parallels, I haven't even covered them all here but just the main standouts of season 9 and 10.

So no matter what happens with this Leah character, Beth is still coming back and it's going to be massive

[emeto-things]

You Will Be Okay ❤️

Whatever you’re panicking about right now, know that you will be okay.

You will not be s*.

You are stronger than your emetophobia, and you’re in control of your emotions - even if sometimes it feels like you aren’t.

I’ve dealt with emetophobia for over 13 years, starting at just age 5.

Over the years, I’ve gathered many, many tips and tricks that I would love to share with you :)

Remember, everyone handles their anxiety/emet differently, so don’t be discouraged if any of these techniques don’t work for you, over time, you ultimately end up finding what works for you ❤️

•Videos/Songs/Apps•

1. Anti N* frequency on YouTube.

https://youtu.be/E8Ea159nx2g

I find that really helps.

2. “Emetophobia Panic Attack Help”

https://youtu.be/YtifvkN0U4w

Jona is the sweetest soul and I can’t even count the amount of times I’ve watched this video and felt instantly calmer afterwards. She’s the reason I found this blog! ❤️

3. “Weightless by Marconi Union”

https://youtu.be/5b1BKt_3Ag8

This song has been proven to reduce anxiety, and it really does! This version is 8 ½ hours long with no ads and a dark screen, it’s perfect for bedtime anxiety! But it works during any time of day ❤️

4. The App “Calm”

I always use the “breathing exercises” part of this app, and I find that it always calms my panic and relaxes me. You can do the breathing exercises for free, and you can set the time of how long you want to do them, and repeat as necessary :)

5. Bob Ross

https://youtu.be/HCsCatvigtw

This is just a random video of his, but he has a very calming voice and watching him paint is also very relaxing. I love watching him before I go to sleep to get me in a calm, happy state of mind. There’s tons of full length episodes on YouTube that you can watch of his!

•Food/Drink•

1. Spearmint/mint chewing gum.

I find that mint gum opens my throat when it feels like it’s closing in. Chewing gum is also a distraction from your anxiety, and I find that the mint flavors soothe any stomach discomfort. It also relieves n*! The perfect, easy solution for us emets!

2. Ice cold water

Sipping ice cold water helps bring me back to reality when my anxiety has taken me to another world. It also soothes the stomach, and if you’re sweating as panic sometimes causes, it can help you cool down.

3. Bread

Plain bread is one of my favorite things to have when my emetophobia is high functioning. I feel like it’s really easy on the stomach and coats it - we emets don’t eat as often or as much as most people, and tend to feel empty stomached often. Eating something small such as bread, can really help fill up your stomach without making us more anxious.

•Extra tips & tricks•

1. Ask yourself, “what would make me feel better right now?”

This is so simple, yet so effective. When panicking, it’s so easy and common to forget all the tips you’ve learned and forget what you really need in the moment. Make a conscious effort to ask yourself, “what would make me feel better right now?” It could be a glass of water, talking to someone you trust, going home if you’re out, taking a shower etc. And if for some reason you can’t do what you feel you need to do, choose the second best option that you CAN do. Remember, there is ALWAYS something you can do to feel better, even if it’s small❤️

2. Being alone/being with others

This one is completely up to personal preference. Some find that they’re less anxious when around other people, and some find that they’re less anxious alone.

This ties into the first tip. I personally prefer being alone when I’m anxious, so I always try to find somewhere to step aside, calm myself down and then go back to where I was. But some people feel that the complete opposite helps them, see what works for you! Ask yourself if you’d be more comfortable around others right now, or alone. Or with just one person you trust! - And remember, If you are anxious in a situation where you’re alone and nobody is with you, you WILL be okay. You will make it through. You will not be s*.

And if you are anxious in a situation where you’re around others and have to be, you WILL be okay. You will make it through. You will not be s*.

3. Temperature shock

I find sometimes if I’m sweating with anxiety, a quick change in temperature can really distract me and calm me down. Maybe go outside if it’s cold out, or splash cold water on your face. If you’re cold, try going into a heated room or standing by a fireplace, or wrapping up in a blanket with a heating pad.

3. Heating Pads!!!

I can’t emphasize enough how much heating pads help me. With as much stomach discomfort as us emets have, they’re a miracle worker on stomach aches, stomach discomfort and just about any stomach sensation, the heat of the heating pad really seems to help. Not to mention, it’s great for when you’re shaking and cold from panic, it works for that too!

4. Creating a playlist of calming music to listen to when you’re anxious

I always do this, and it always helps me calm down. I’m planning on making a Spotify playlist to share with you guys, for you to listen to when you’re anxious. But feel free to also make your own! Different music calms different people in different ways :)

5. Talk to a trusted friend or family member

You don’t have to talk to them about the anxiety you’re experiencing - unless of course, you feel that would help you in the moment. Having someone to talk to that you trust can be a real anxiety buster. It’s always good to laugh and have a good time with someone you can truly be yourself around.

I really hope some of these tips can help you guys, and just know that you are never alone in this phobia.

It’s a difficult phobia to endure, but it just shows us how truly strong we are. We are so much stronger than our anxieties, fears, OCDs, depression and any other battle we come across.

Believe in yourself, and try not to beat yourself up over having a panic attack, or having this phobia in general. It’s not something we can control, and we are so much stronger than we even realize.

Your anxiety and emetophobia doesn’t define you. Even with anxiety and emetophobia, you’re still a wonderful, beautiful, strong, brave person who can achieve anything in this world that you put your mind to. Your anxiety only limits you as much as you’ll let it.

You’re deserving of love, family, friends, health and happiness - you are a beautiful human being inside and out and don’t ever let other people, or your own inner anxieties and fears tell you otherwise.

You are not s*. You are perfectly healthy, and you will be okay❤️

Anyone on this blog is here for you and understands you, and we all love and care about you and are so proud of you for the progress you’ve made and are continuing to make. Stay strong, loves! You will be okay❤️

THIS IS AN AWESOME POST! THANK YOU SO MUCH ABBY! - Kaitlyn